Last week, Google-owned Motorola finally updated its XPRT smartphone to support a brand new version of Android. Jelly Bean? Yeah right. Ice Cream Sandwich? Not even close.

That's right, XPRT users everywhere are enjoying Gingerbread, a nearly 2-year old operating system that's three full versions behind the current release (though to be fair, Honeycomb was a tablet-only release). The XPRT isn't ancient. A rebranded version of the Droid Pro, this "business-ready" incarnation of the keyboard phone was released by Sprint just 15 months ago. 

And it's not just the XPRT. According to Google's Android Developer site, Gingerbread accounts for nearly 60 percent of its active users. That's like one out of every two iPhones running iOS 4. 

Apple users, we know, flocked to iOS 6 in droves. Why? They could. I have no doubt that every XPRT user would be running Jelly Bean if only Sprint would let them. In fact, unless you're using an unlocked device or the WiFi-only Nexus 7 tablet, you're probably not running the latest version of Android; the major carriers have dragged their feet on releasing Jelly Bean updates to Android phones, including the lauded Samsung Galaxy S3 and even Google's own Nexus phone.

And that's where the chasm between iOS and Android--which seems to be growing greater with each chapter in the Maps saga--starts. Android users can take shots at Apple's "lack of innovation" with the iPhone 5, and iOS fans will rip Android phones for being too big or plasticky, but the essence of the fight has little to do with hardware. Lets be honest: The Galaxy S3 isn't a bad looking phone; and if Tim Cook ever allowed the iPhone to run Android, millions of Apple haters would suddenly rush out to buy one.

It's a lot like the OS wars with Microsoft. There was a perception that specs were all that mattered, and Mac users were only interested in shiny boxes, so Steve Jobs tried to push the megahertz myth--that true performance was measured by more than just clock speeds. But he could never convince the masses that fractured, fragmented boxes, no matter the processor inside, only ran as well as the version of Windows would allow. Even Bill Gates will tell you that optimizing an operating system for hundreds of different models is a losing proposition, but no one ever seemed to listen.

While Apple will be forever criticized for its "walled garden," diehard Android users will never understand (or admit) that the Cupertino model works. When Steve came back to Apple in 1997, one of his first executive orders was to kill the clone program, much to the dismay of the fringe Mac community. It wasn't so much about controlling profits; Steve simply sacrificed the needs of the few to protect the experience of the many.

A small, vocal minority of Android users know the ins and outs of rooting and clamor on about how much more advanced Android is than iOS, but the vast majority of users will never know how great Android can be, whether due to carrier or manufacturer manipulation of the UI or an inability to upgrade to the newest version. Apple, on the other hand, always makes sure its for-sale handsets can enjoy at least some of the features in the latest OS right from day one, and each release is crafted to boost speed and performance on all supported models.

Google certainly puts as much effort into each Android release--Jelly Bean's Project Butter was dedicated to making scrolling and gesturing as smooth as iOS--but if 99 percent of users can't experience it, what's the point? Even with a second-rate maps app, iOS 6 will likely be close to 50 percent adoption rate by Christmas.

With Macs and PCs pretty much running the same chips as Windows PCs, there's not much use for the megahertz myth these days. But maybe Tim Cook can start peddling the mobile myth: What good is an "open" phone if it's shut out of all the good stuff?