Articles
When the gatekeeper gets locked out: Microsoft’s karmic moment
There is a particular irony in watching a technology giant struggle to restore access to its services after independent publishers have described losing access to its platform.
By Richard Branson ·
For the publishers, the gatekeeper controls the switch. During an outage, even the gatekeeper discovers what powerlessness feels like.
Several independent publishers reported being removed from Microsoft’s MSN platform without notice, according to Press Gazette’s reporting. For a small publishing business, losing a distribution channel can mean much more than disappointing traffic figures. It can threaten revenue, undermine investment and put livelihoods under pressure.
A platform relationship can take months or years to build. Its disappearance can be brutally sudden.
Now Microsoft is confronting a different kind of disconnection. A major global outage beginning on 12 November and continuing into the following day disrupted services including Outlook, Teams and Copilot. The BBC reported that reports of Outlook problems peaked at nearly 140,000 on Downdetector.
For publishers who have experienced an abrupt platform removal, the spectacle may carry a certain karmic satisfaction. The company that controls access for others finds itself struggling to provide access to its own customers.
That does not make the outage divine intervention. Nor does it make the people affected deserving targets. Ordinary workers, small businesses and public services bear the consequences when essential technology fails. Their frustration deserves sympathy.
But sympathy does not erase the irony.
Both situations expose the vulnerability created when so much depends on decisions and systems beyond your control. A publisher can produce worthwhile journalism, build an audience and employ talented people, yet remain exposed to a distribution partner’s change of direction. A business can pay its software subscriptions faithfully and still find its working day paralysed by a failure it cannot fix.
The mechanisms differ. The helplessness is familiar.
Microsoft is entitled to review its publishing relationships. Publishers are equally entitled to expect clear communication, meaningful notice where possible and an explanation they can understand. The larger the platform’s role in a business, the more consequential those basic courtesies become.
“Partner” should describe a relationship with obligations on both sides. Otherwise, it is simply a reassuring name for dependence.
The outage offers Microsoft an opportunity to reflect on that dependence from the receiving end. Customers waiting for services to return want explanations, updates and evidence that someone understands the consequences. Independent publishers facing removal deserve the same consideration.
Perhaps that is where the karmic balance lies: in a sudden encounter with the uncertainty others have already endured.
Microsoft will work to restore its systems. Restoring publishers’ confidence requires something else: transparency, fair treatment and a recognition that behind every feed and account sits a business built by people.
When you control the switch, it is easy to overlook what darkness feels like.
An outage provides a reminder.