Is it better? That’s a big question. It encompasses a lot of ideas.

Let’s give an example.

Back before even videotapes were relevant, there were two competing technologies on the marketplace: VHS and Betamax. Both of them allowed for the incredible magic of a) renting movies to watch in your own home, and b) recording TV shows to forget about later.

Betamax was said to be technologically superior by its advocates. VHS won after a short battle. The big question is, “Was Betamax better?”

And without even knowing a damn thing about Betamax, my automatic answer would be “No.” Why? Because it went head-to-head with a big competitor in the marketplace, and it lost.

For me, “marketing” is a major part of being better.

That sounds silly. After all, we all know the old maxim: The more money two competing brands spend on advertising, the less difference there actually is. And it’s true; the difference between Coke and Pepsi is negligible (even as I have a preference), as Budweiser and Miller taste pretty much the same. If there’s really not much of a distinction, then you have to spend money to make people think there is.

But in general, marketing is significant. For many people, it’s an afterthought, something bolted on to a Good Product because, well, you have to have it. But in my experience, “marketing” is a central part of the features, and “bad marketing” is a large part of what makes something worse.

For example: If you were to ask me, “Is Macintosh better than Windows?” I’d frown a bit as I considered the question and then say, reluctantly, “No.” But rephrase the question and ask, “Does Macintosh run better than Windows?” Yes. “Is it more elegant?” Yes. “Do you like it better?” On a lot levels, absolutely.

But Apple’s been piss-poor at marketing. Can the Mac play games? Not really – and that’s been a part of Apple’s marketing strategy for years. Windows went out of their way to encourage people to make awesome games on the PC, and sold Windows based on that amazing capacity; Macintosh pissed off game developers time and time again by ignoring them and/or dismissing the relevance of games (because “games” wasn’t something oh-so-cool Mac wanted to be connected with).*

When Macintosh was too cool for school, Microsoft said, “Hey, if we get people to make good games, we can use that to sell more copies of Windows! We should totally work this angle to the max.”

In other words, marketing drives features. Features that, on the whole, consumers want.

Plus, without getting into the Mac/Windows debate, Macintosh is more expensive – you get much less bang for your buck. How much extra do you get for that money? For some people, it’s well worth it – but for most folk, the extra hundreds you drop on a Mac do not return hundreds of dollars of enjoyment.

This is a way of saying the marketplace is pretty darned good at seeing past marketing hype when it comes to new products. McDonald’s can spend a zillion dollars on the Arch Deluxe, but if it’s not that much better than a normal McD’s hamburger, people will not purchase it past the initial "Hey, check it out" phase.

People are pretty good at determining where to spend their money on things that satisfy them. They may not be the things that satisfy you – I’m no fan of Adam Sandler, for example, but I have to acknowledge that he fills some need in people’s minds for a comedy styling I dislike intensely. But it fulfills them.

Generally, I’ve found that when something flops on the market, there’s a good reason for it. Electronic books have failed to catch fire despite all of the advantages people can throw out. Why? Because:

a) reading books on a little tiny screen is harder for most people;

b) books don’t need to rely on batteries, and;

c) if you lose one book you don’t lose your whole library, but you can lose your entire e-library by dropping an e-book in the oh-God-toilet.

Now, electronic writing has grown in popularity as people have gotten better cell phones to read them. But that’s something people carry with them anyway – it’s a bonus to an existing product, not a new product in itself.

The actual e-book – as in, “A devoted piece of hardware you carry with you only to read books?” Never took off. Why? Because it was a bad idea.

So to me, “a failed product” generally means “a bad one.” That’s not always true, of course; particularly with movies, some things just need time to find their place (“Wizard of Oz” would be a hell of a movie to market to anyone, really, if you didn’t know what it was already). There are some good products that died unfairly.

Even if you take that into account, though, I consider “Failure to get knowledge of your product into the minds of the people who would pay money to get it” to be a part of whether the product’s good. Marketing will only take you so far; if someone developed a car that could drive at 55 mph for $20,000 on someone’s exhaled breaths, you wouldn’t need to market that. Everyone would just buy it. On the whole, the marketplace works.

(And before you ask, who killed the electric car?)

For everything else, “Alerting the world that you exist” is a vital part of how good it is. Because otherwise, it dies on the vine. OS/2 may be the most awesome operating system the world has ever seen, but it’s hard for me to argue that it’s “the best” in a total vacuum where nothing runs on it and nobody’s supporting it. Band X may have been the best band in the history of mankind, but when they produced one four-song LP and then disbanded due to lack of money, how much enjoyment can I squeeze from a single album?

Getting people to like what you do is generally a part of what makes it good. And that’s why I consider marketing a strong part of any “Is it better?” question.

Not all of it, mind you. Just a lot.

* - The list of great Macintosh game developers: Bungie. Who are now working for Microsoft. Hmm.

(Tell me I'm full of it)