The Comeback Nobody Predicted: How Garmin Out-Survived the Phone That Was Supposed to Kill It
The Comeback Nobody Predicted: How Garmin Out-Survived the Phone That Was Supposed to Kill It
In 2007, Garmin looked like a company with an expiration date. Its entire business was built on selling standalone GPS devices — little suction-cupped boxes that told drivers where to turn. Then the iPhone arrived, and within a few years Google Maps was doing the same job, for free, on a device everyone already carried. By 2013, MIT Technology Review reported that Garmin's market value had shrunk to less than a third of its 2007 peak, with sales down 15 percent as its core personal-navigation business collapsed.
Nearly two decades later, Garmin isn't just still around — it's posting record revenue. Its fitness division alone grew 32 percent in 2024 to $1.77 billion, with operating income more than doubling to $483 million, and the company told investors it expected another year of double-digit growth in 2025. That turnaround is worth understanding, because it's one of the clearer examples in consumer tech of a company getting disrupted, refusing to panic-compete on the disruptor's turf, and finding a way to matter again.
Two Engineers, a Card Table, and a Secret
Garmin's origin story starts in 1989 in Lenexa, Kansas, when electrical engineers Gary Burrell and Min Kao left their jobs to start a company called ProNav. Both had worked on GPS technology for the US Department of Defense — at the time a satellite positioning system still largely classified and unavailable for civilian use. Their employer was cutting R&D spending just as GPS was becoming viable for commercial products, so Burrell and Kao decided to build it themselves, raising roughly $5 million from family and friends. According to company lore, their first office consisted of two folding chairs and a card table.
The company renamed itself Garmin in 1990 — a blend of its founders' first names, Gary and Min — and built its earliest products for aviation, selling panel-mounted GPS units to pilots at a time when the technology was still a novelty in the cockpit. From there it expanded into marine electronics and, in the 1990s and 2000s, into the automotive dashboard units that became its biggest business: turn-by-turn personal navigation devices (PNDs) that briefly turned Garmin into one of the hottest hardware companies on the Nasdaq.
The Squeeze
The PND business was always going to be vulnerable to a single invention: a smartphone with decent GPS and a mapping app. Google Maps added turn-by-turn navigation in 2009, and within a few years it was obvious that paying $150–$300 for a dashboard GPS unit made little sense when the phone already in your pocket did the job free. Garmin's automotive segment, once its largest, went into a long structural decline, and for years the dominant narrative around the company was "the next Kodak" or "the next BlackBerry" — a hardware brand about to be swallowed by the smartphone.
What actually happened was different, and slower.
The Pivot: Stop Competing With the Phone, Go Where It's Worse at the Job
Garmin's response wasn't to build an app, or to try to out-feature Apple and Google in general-purpose navigation. Instead, it leaned into the segments where a smartphone is a genuinely worse tool than dedicated hardware: multi-day battery life, waterproofing, cold-weather reliability, offline maps with no cell signal, and sensors a phone doesn't carry. The company had actually planted this flag early — its Forerunner running watch launched back in 2003, years before the iPhone existed, and built a loyal following among runners that Garmin kept building on through successive generations.
That early foothold in fitness became the foundation for Garmin's rebuilt identity: GPS sports watches for runners, cyclists and triathletes; dive computers and marine chartplotters; aviation avionics for small aircraft; and outdoor-adventure watches built to survive conditions that would kill a phone's battery in hours. Crucially, Garmin kept its vertical integration — designing its own chips, sensors and mapping software rather than relying on off-the-shelf components — which let it ship devices with genuinely longer battery life and more specialized sensors than a general-purpose smartwatch from Apple or Samsung could match. Rather than fighting the Apple Watch head-on in the mass smartwatch market, where Garmin's share remains small, it defended a set of niches — endurance sport, marine, aviation, outdoor — where accuracy, durability and battery life matter more than app ecosystems.
Why the Comeback Worked
Garmin's 2024 and 2025 results show the strategy paying off at scale. Fitness is now the company's largest and fastest-growing segment, and outdoor products — adventure and rugged watches in particular — have also posted strong growth, even as the company's own executives have acknowledged that sustaining double-digit outdoor growth year after year is harder than it looks. Aviation and marine, smaller but historically high-margin, continue to generate steady revenue from customers who prioritize reliability over flash.
The broader lesson extends well beyond one Kansas-founded hardware maker. When a cheaper, bundled alternative eats your core product — as smartphones did to GPS devices, point-and-shoot cameras, and MP3 players alike — the companies that survive tend to be the ones that stop trying to out-compete the disruptor in its own arena and instead retreat to, and defend, the specific jobs where dedicated hardware still wins. Garmin's watches now show up on the wrists of marathoners, open-water swimmers and mountaineers worldwide — including a growing base of fitness and outdoor enthusiasts across the UAE's running, cycling, diving and desert off-roading communities, where GPS accuracy and multi-day battery life matter in ways a phone screen in direct desert sun simply can't deliver.
Garmin never beat the smartphone. It just found enough places the smartphone couldn't go.