The quartz crisis
The year is 1969, and the world is changing in some of the most profound ways imaginable. Muammar Gaddafi leads a bloodless coup d’état, overthrowing King Idris. Concorde propels aviation forward with its first supersonic passenger flight. Chevrolet discontinues the ’69 split-window Corvette, while counterculture is immortalised by the Woodstock Music Festival. I could go on about the rock ballads released that year – songs that helped define the music industry as we know it today – but the point is this: 1969 was a year that reshaped everything, with each month marked by something momentous.
At Seiko, there was a challenge.
For some time, Seiko’s engineers had known that quartz oscillation could achieve a far higher degree of precision than mechanical movements. The problem? Quartz oscillators in the late 1950s through the mid-1960s were the size of bookcases.
As a result, the rest of the watch industry continued producing timepieces driven by mechanical balance wheels. And admittedly, mechanical watches are marvels to behold. Both the watches themselves and the brands behind them trace an arc of progress through movement architecture and technological milestones—each one a song of triumph over competition.
However, the pleasure of owning a timepiece remained largely out of reach for the common man. These were aspirational objects, designed and produced for the wealthy.
On December 25th, 1969, Seiko released the Seiko Astron. Merry Christmas.
It was more than simply a quartz movement. The Astron outperformed mechanical watches in accuracy by a factor of 100. Its Calibre 35SQ movement
By Enzo Botha
movement, requiring no lubrication and virtually no maintenance. In doing so, Seiko charted the course for an entirely new method of timekeeping.
Unknowingly, Seiko would go on to drastically reshape the global watch industry.
Calling it an engineering revolt would be a euphemism.
Age-old institutions – those that had crafted the mechanisms of tool watches, timepieces that helped shape the modern world – were wiped clean from the pages of history. What was once reserved for the opulent was reengineered for the common man.
Quartz movements required little servicing, and as more companies adopted the technology, consumers were given something they had never truly had before: choice. For the first time, the average person could afford a reliable timepiece on their wrist. For many of the great watch companies of the era, this shift proved catastrophic.
The spirit of innovation is often haunted by the ghosts of what it renders obsolete.
At the time, the Seiko Astron did not look radically different from the mechanical watches around it. Its compact Calibre 35SQ movement allowed for a thinner case profile, with the only real differentiator being the words “Quartz Astron” printed on the dial.
It was priced like a medium-sized car, so true affordability had not yet been perfected—but even then, it was significantly less expensive than many of its mechanical counterparts.
SPONSORED BY AA WATCH WHOLESALERS CC +27 12 342 8978/9
Excelsior Park was a respected and critically important movement maker.
Its work can be found in vintage Girard-Perregaux timepieces and, most notably, Zenith chronographs. Known for their reliability and efficient architecture, Excelsior Park movements power some of history’s most sought-after watches.
These names represent just a few of the nearly 1,000 casualties claimed by the rise of quartz. Entire watch companies disappeared almost overnight. Movement houses like Excelsior Park vanished – though some were fortunate enough to be absorbed and repurposed to create proprietary movements for major brands.
There was, however, a silver lining.
Mechanical movements did not die – they evolved. Freed from the burden of mass-market utility, they became more expressive, more intricate, and more beautiful. Brands leaned into craftsmanship, heritage, and individuality.
Just as man evolved in response to
Mechanical
movements did not die –
they evolved. Freed from
the burden of mass-market
utility, they became more
expressive, more intricate,
and more beautiful.
Brands leaned into
craftsmanship, heritage,
and individuality.
disruption, so too did watches.
The Quartz Crisis did not end horology – it refined it, dividing timekeeping into two parallel paths: one driven by absolute precision, the other by human ingenuity.
And both, in their own way, continue to shape how we measure time today.