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Inside The Future Of RFID
By Josh McHugh
Wired Magazine
7-7-4
 
I'm in a supermarket called the Extra Future Store in Rheinberg, Germany, 40 kilometers north of Dusseldorf, jonesing for a bit of Philadelphia cream cheese. I feed my request into the touchscreen console on my shopping cart, and up pops a map showing the optimal path to the dairy section. I steer over and grab a box - regular in name but far smarter than the average cream cheese. The package carries a computer chip that talks to a 2-millimeter-thin pad lining the shelf under the box. When I pick up the cheese, sensors in the pad notify the store's database that the box has been removed. I exchange the plain for the mit Kruter (with herbs) then, wracked with indecision, snag the low-fat version. It turns out it's not really all that low-fat anyhow, so I put it back down. My waffling will produce a flurry of data back at Kraft Foods headquarters. The company, which gets this information in return for subsidizing the smart shelf and the microchips attached to the packages, will use the data to analyze my behavior. The marketing department will likely draw some kind of conclusion from my skittishness - a hint that maybe "low-fatness" is too Spartan a theme for a hedonistic schmear anyway. Of course, they'll also have serious insight into my personal shopping habits.
 
My companion is a sloe-eyed, dark-haired young woman named Silke Michel, who holds one of the world's rarer jobs: supermarket tour guide. More than 10,000 people have visited the Future Store in the past year - not including the real live shoppers of Rheinberg, who have become adept at maneuvering their carts around herds of pinstriped looky-loos. The visitors come from all over the world for a preview of the global retail experience, circa 2013. The star of the show is the radio frequency identification chip - a piece of circuitry about the size of a grain of sand. Thanks to the coordinated efforts of the world's biggest retailers and manufacturers, not to mention the persistence of former lipstick marketer Kevin Ashton, these little tags are about to infiltrate the world of commerce.
 
Depending who you ask, RFID tags constitute
 
1. the best thing to happen to manufacturing since the cog.
 
2. the biggest threat to personal privacy since the crowbar.
 
3. the near-exact fulfillment of the Book of Revelation's description of the mark of the beast.
 
There's a compelling argument for each of these perspectives - including number three.
 
European retailer Metro built the Future Store to be the premier live testing ground for RFID tags, and the world's biggest consumer goods manufacturers are lining up to have a gander. Gillette, Kraft, and Procter & Gamble are among the companies banking on RFID chips to track each cream cheese container, razor blade, and bottle of shampoo. They know precisely which package occupies what bit of shelf space and how long it takes the Future Store's staff to replace a purchased item.
 
Retailers are even keener to get their hands on the sort of information RFID tags promise to reveal. The way it works now, all the little kinks along the supply chain accumulate in the lap of retailers, which take delivery of products without knowing whether the shipments are correct until they're unpacked. The average rate for shipping screwups is 1 in 20. That's a big part of why margins in the retailing business are so thin - average net profit for supermarkets is 1 percent - and precisely the reason that Wal-Mart, Target, and Metro have given their top suppliers six to nine months to start slapping RFID tags onto crates and delivery pallets. Manufacturers want this technology, but retailers need it.
 
When talking to people in the RFID business, you hear a lot about Fortune One, aka Wal-Mart, the top company on the Fortune 100, which rose to power by understanding the supply chain better than any of its competitors. The pitch RFID vendors make to retailers boils down to this: You, too, can take control of your supply chain. You can be like Wal-Mart. You can save millions - billions! - of dollars. The Future Store stockroom serves as the model. Michel points to a reader at the entrance to the loading dock that logs the arrival of any RFID-tagged contents, all but eliminating foul-ups.
 
Back in the aisles, antennas suspended from the ceiling track our position, and a server beams information about specials to our cart's console. The prices on the 35,000 remote-controlled LCD labels flickering on the shelves rise or fall each night with inventory levels. Throw that 10-pack of juice boxes into the cart when there are still two pallets in the back room and it could cost you 1.99 euros. But show up after a Saturday afternoon rush and you'd be looking at 2.53 euros.
 
After choosing a bottle of Pantene shampoo (P&G will be interested to know that I opted for the glatt und seidig variety only after picking up a different bottle first), we make our way to the DVD section. Michel picks Verr¸ckt nach Mary off the shelf, the German-dubbed version of There's Something About Mary, and holds the RFID-tagged package up to a video kiosk. The movie's trailer starts, and we share a chuckle as Cameron Diaz answers the door sporting a hairstyle product not sold in stores.
 
As a rule, I loathe going to the supermarket. But this is actually fun - like a multimedia scavenger hunt. It's as though the store is reaching out to help me, entertain me, and, yes, take my money. Ultimately, the store hopes to have every item tagged. Until then, it boasts several futuristic features that use barcodes as temporary stand-ins for RFID. A produce kiosk equipped with a digicam and identification software prints price stickers for fruits and veggies based on size, color, and shape; a sommelier kiosk regards a bottle of wine, tells me the appellation, suggests accompanying dishes, and compares vintages. Best of all, once the store becomes RFID-saturated, I'll be able to breeze out to my car without breaking stride - a scanner will read the tags in my cart and debit my bank account, just like a shopping-floor E-ZPass. I just hope the bag boy can keep up.
 
In 1997, a fresh-faced P&G cosmetics marketer named Kevin Ashton noticed that practically every time he checked the shelves of various British retailers for Oil of Olay Hazelnut lipstick, they were empty. Peeved, Ashton sought a technical fix and came across RFID tags. At a few dollars each, they were way too expensive to put on every consumer product. But Ashton knew the tags could be manufactured at a fraction of that cost, especially if, say, P&G were to order them in huge volume. "I started giving my RFID presentation to anyone who would listen," says Ashton, who now heads marketing for ThingMagic, a designer of RFID systems, "and they kept passing me up the chain."
 
A year later, P&G "loaned" Ashton - a brand manager with a bachelor's degree in Scandinavian studies - to MIT as the executive director of the Auto-ID Center, an offshoot of the Media Lab funded with $20 million from P&G, Gillette, Kraft, Unilever, Wal-Mart, Home Depot, Coke, and just about every other major retail brand you can think of. Ashton and his team of PhDs predicted that RFID would usher in a new age of business-process clarity and corporate profitability - when the cost falls from 10 to 5 cents a tag. The reams of data would also give sellers new insight into consumer behavior, more control over pricing, and better-targeted in-store promotions.
 
How could a tiny chip do all this? It starts with the technology. The key pieces of hardware are a radio transmitter and receiver (the RFID reader) and a tag (chip plus antenna). Metro uses passive RFID chips, which remain inactive until the radio frequency energy from a reader hits it, giving the tag enough juice to emit a 96-bit digital signature, three times the information held in a barcode. The chip can be read through cardboard, wood, and plastic, which means that manufacturers can actually embed them in products. Some of today's readers have a 30-foot range and are the size of a quarter. As far as the chips go, well, they're closing in on that magic 5-cent figure.
 
The tags will have the most immediate impact on retailers. Wireless receivers can track the whereabouts of every item, eliminating inventory errors of all sorts: the mysterious disappearance of a few cases of Coke here and there, a pallet of perishables left to rot in some far-off warehouse corner, the 64 dozen boxes of cashews improperly logged as cat chow. A handy supply-chain calculator on the Web site of EPC Global, the current incarnation of MIT's Auto-ID Center, makes the case quite convincingly. You can punch in the numbers yourself: A retailer with, say, $250 billion in sales and 103 distribution centers (OK, Wal-Mart) would, based on industry-average operating margins, see $407 million in savings by having its suppliers attach RFID tags to all their pallets. By requiring an RFID tag on every item, Wal-Mart would save $7.6 billion, mostly in labor costs - think of all the employees with barcode scanners who staff the loading bays, warehouse aisles, and checkout counters. And then there are the incalculable new business opportunities that would come with the ability to do true one-to-one advertising at the point of purchase.
 
ThingMagic, Ashton's startup, now finds itself in a very hot field. Alien Technology, another RFID equipment maker, has raised more than $50 million in venture capital on the strength of Gillette's promise to buy up to 500 million Alien RFID tags at a reported 10 cents each. Another chipmaker, Matrics, recently pulled in a $20 million round. Supermarket giant Albertson's, with 2,300 stores nationwide, has said its top 100 suppliers must put RFID tags on all boxes and pallets they ship by next April. Starting next year, Michelin is putting chips in its tires as a way to minimize costly recalls like the Firestone-Ford debacle of 1999 and 2000. And Wal-Mart began experimenting with RFID on consumer goods in May. Seven Dallas-Ft. Worth Wal-Marts are tagging Hewlett-Packard, Johnson & Johnson, and P&G products. The resulting avalanche of data will be a windfall for tech firms; IBM, Oracle, and SAP all turned out for the recent RFID summit in Chicago.
 
"And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads." Katherine Albrecht is reading aloud from chapter 13 of the Book of Revelation. " and that no man might buy or sell, save that he had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name. Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast; for it is the number of a man; and his number is six hundred threescore and six.'"
 
This is no wild-eyed street preacher. Albrecht is a Harvard PhD candidate in educational psychology and a reliable media staple, appearing on seemingly every TV or radio talk show on the topic of RFID. Red-haired and apple-cheeked, she's wearing a tasteful sweater with a silk scarf draped around her shoulders. Albrecht is the founder of Caspian, Consumers Against Supermarket Privacy Invasion and Numbering. She's well-informed, appealing, and adept at rebutting the pro-RFID arguments of industry shills and tech wonks. Most of all, she sees the danger and she's spreading the word. If Ashton is RFID's Johnny Appleseed, Albrecht is Erin Brockovich.
 
Albrecht began worrying about supermarkets in 1998. Looking at all the retailer loyalty cards in her wallet, she got to thinking about the databases behind them, wondering how information on her every transaction would be analyzed, used to influence her purchasing decisions, and sold to others. When RFID came along, she attended an Auto-ID Center meeting at MIT and heard a marketer say, "Won't it be great when we know every time the consumer takes the lid off the toothpaste in their own bathroom?" Realizing that the tiny chips were more powerful - and troubling - than loyalty cards ever could be, she took Caspian on the warpath against RFID.
 
Feature: Attention, Shoppers! Plus: Shopping Cart Revolution Last summer, Gillette, Wal-Mart, and Britain's Tesco stores canceled RFID pilot projects that involved clandestine videotaping of razor shoppers after Albrecht found out and organized a Gillette boycott. This spring, Albrecht spent hours on the phone with staffers to US senator Patrick Leahy, preparing him for public hearings on RFID regulation. Three states have taken up her cry to require retailers to label any items that have RFID tags attached: California and Utah legislators have proposed versions of her labeling bill, while Missouri's senate has introduced it nearly word for word.
 
As a free-market libertarian, Albrecht believes the new California legislation is too extreme: It goes beyond just labeling - it bans tracking customers as they shop. Albrecht has no problem with RFID tags being used inside a store to improve supply-chain efficiency. It's the point at which you bring the tags home that worries her. Outside the store, she fears, the tags become beacons, broadcasting all sorts of information to anyone with an RFID reader. And the readers are so cheap that anyone will be able to check out what you've bought without your noticing.
 
For every bit of convenience RFID offers, Albrecht sees a potential invasion of privacy. Consider the clothing manufacturers who weave chips into their lines. According to Chris Enright, the CTO of IconNicholson, the firm that helped design the RFID system in Prada's Epicenter store in Manhattan, it's a great way for retailers to ID customers and prevent theft. But what happens when you bring that blouse home? Albrecht worries that a burglar could use a reader from outside your house to preview the contents of your closet. Likewise, industry folks say RFID tags in your shoes could save you time in line at the bank - the teller, tipped off by a chip reader in a floor mat, will have your account information on her screen when you step up. But the same reader slipped under a bookstore welcome mat could reveal your fetish for a certain type of underground porn. These may be far-fetched scenarios, but they're also contagious, self-propagating.
 
Albrecht, the critic, and Ashton, the pioneer, have emerged as leading voices in the RFID debate. They regard each other with respect. "There's no doubt that what Kevin did with the Auto-ID Center changed the world," she says. "He's a visionary. It's just that he's on the wrong side of this issue."
 
Ashton, for his part, calls Albrecht "extreme" but admires her knack for attracting media attention. And he worries she'll continue to strike a chord with consumers. He imagines a kind of dÈtente: Manufacturers and retailers get the in-store benefits of RFID but devise convenient ways to kill the tags before shoppers leave the store. "You'll be at the supermarket, checking out, and the choices will be, Cash or charge? Paper or plastic? Dead or alive?" Ashton says.
 
Except that, of course, in the RFID future, you won't actually be checking out.
 
Shopping Cart Revolution
 
Metro's prototype store in Rheinberg offers an early glimpse of the supermarket of the future. You'll start by grabbing a cart and swiping an ID card through a reader mounted on the handle. Now the cart can announce your presence to every kiosk, display shelf, and electronic price tag as you move through the store. The cart also will have a console that generates a shopping list based on your purchasing habits and a map to navigate the aisles.
 
Dynamic Pricing Prices will be updated each night in response to real-time fluctuations of supply and demand.
 
Tag Anonymizer After checkout, shoppers will have the option of anonymizing their RFID tags. The procedure can't eliminate a tag's serial number, but it can delete any product information.
 
Advertising Display Shoppers strolling by will be served custom ads based on buying habits and demographic profile.
 
Checkout Pass No more waiting in line. An RFID reader will instantly scan all the items in your cart and debit your card accordingly.
 
Sommelier Kiosk Oenophiles will learn about the vintage, region, and varietal of a selection - and even get food pairing ideas by waving the bottle at the reader.
 
Smart Shelves Inventory data will be refreshed in real time by readers embedded in the shelves. The information will be sent to everyone in the supply chain: retailers, distributors, and manufacturers.
 
Cart-Top Computing A Wi-Fi-enabled touchscreen on the handle of each cart will read a shopper's ID card, suggest items for purchase based on previous visits, and guide customers to the shelves where the listed items are located.
 
Veggie Vision A self-serve scale with built-in digicam will identify produce by size, shape, and color, then print price labels. Eventually, it will generate an RFID tag for each item.
 
- Contributing editor Josh McHugh (josh@wiredmag.com) wrote about the future of health care in Wired 12.05.
 
© Copyright© 1993-2004 The CondÈ Nast Publications Inc. All rights reserved. © Copyright 2004, Lycos, Inc. All Rights Reserved. http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/12.07/shoppers.html?tw=wn_tophead_6
 


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