Do vs Learn…

Is something I’ve been struggling with for the last few months. It’s a tough balance to hit, and involves constant second-guessing. I see so many opportunities where I feel like I could do something, and so many other opportunities where I could work with people far smarter than myself. The hardest decisions I’ve had so far are ones where the outcome would be a good one, no matter the choice. How do you make a decision in those cases?

One of the things I remember from Thinking Fast and Slow is that people will go to great lengths to avoid shutting the door on their options, even if it hurts them. I’m starting to appreciate that. No matter what choice I make, I will be shutting the door on other options that I have. Even not making a decision and delaying is itself a choice.

What’s been helpful is again going back to my principles, realizing that my decision doesn’t really matter. I don’t know that I could make a choice right now that in the long run couldn’t be reversed. Over the next year I’ll learn a lot, be closer to figuring out what I like doing, and have an understanding of what makes me happy in terms of work. All of this will come about regardless of what decisions I make now. And that’s a calming thought.

Links from May

It’s been a crazy 10 days. I’ve graduated (big post coming on that topic), have one of the biggest decisions of my life on hand, had a few fantastic meetings with some great people, have been working really hard on a few other side projects, and have spent 25+ hours traveling this week. On top of that, I’ve finally scheduled programming into my life and have been going through Learn Python the Hard Way for an hour each day this week.

I don’t like doing these posts but want to stick to the habit of posting on Tuesday nights, even if it’s something short. That said, here are a few things I read this week that were fantastic:

Paul Graham’s essay on what you can’t say. This is one of my favorite PG essays, and one I hadn’t read until this week. He is brilliant, and I try to apply his philosophy when thinking about new startup ideas or really anything relating to startups.

Sebastian Marshall’s post on the Equal-Odds Rule. Basically, the idea is that if you want to make excellent stuff, you’ll also need to make a lot of crap. I think Seth Godin is a perfect example of this – tons of pithy, almost useless posts. But, every now and then, he has a post that is absolutely brilliant and has a major impact on tons of people’s thinking. He also has several million readers, and is likely the most influential marketer alive – I think he’s doing ok. By the way, point 16 especially resonated with me.

Robert Greene’s Tactical Hell or Strategic Heaven post isn’t my favorite by him, but his description of strategy was important for me to think about after graduating and with a big decision on hand.

Blake Master’s class notes on Peter Thiel’s startup class. The entire series is brilliant (Peter is one of my intellectual role models), but this post especially made me think about how movements are a reaction to past events. I’ll have a larger post on this later, but I think there’s something to the idea that the Lean Startup movement is a reaction to the startups lacking any sort of a business model in the dotcom boom.

 

Success and Probability

This post is based on something one of my mentors told me about success and taking small risks. A lot of it is said really well in this video. Highly suggested viewing.

Like I mentioned a bit ago, I was a participant in Stanford’s EBootcamp program for a 4 day stretch. It was an amazing weekend with some great speakers, really smart student entrepreneurs, and overall just an exciting event to be a part of. For the first morning session on Friday, they had booked Vinod Khosla of Khosla Ventures to give a keynote and answer some questions from a moderator and the students who were at the event. It was a really cool opportunity to get in touch with him. Khosla is a brilliant guy and is well respected in the Valley – he’s definitely a good guy to know. Two days before the event was to occur, I found his email address and shot him a 3 sentence email about who I was, what I’m doing, and what I wanted. His assistant replied and said he’d be happy to meet up before or after the event for a few minutes.

After he was done talking, he was (predictably) swarmed by eager students who wanted 2 seconds of his time to get his thoughts on what they were doing or to try and connect with him on a meaningful level and get his contact information for later. Unfortunately, he had to get somewhere and couldn’t stick around afterwards. I approached him as he was leaving, introduced myself and mentioned that his assistant had set up a meeting for us. We walked to his car for a while and I got about 20 minutes of his time, as well as the offer to keep in touch and valuable feedback about a few things I’m thinking of. Doing something differently (emailing before instead of a post-talk cold approach) allowed me to stand apart from the rest of the group.

This doesn’t always work out. I also approached one of the speakers, Konstantin Guerecke (CMO of LinkedIn) and asked if I could get 20 minutes of his time in a few weeks to help out with a side project I’m working on. He flat out rejected me. That’s all part of the game – unless you’re willing to go through a few rejections of that type, you won’t get to experience massive success (not that I have, but it’s a simple risk-reward equation).

What matters in the end with all this stuff is the mindset you use to approach it, not the actual outcomes. Who knows, maybe the next email I sent Vinod he will ignore and we will never interact again. It’s quite possible, as it was a short interaction and he’s a busy guy. What matters is building these types of situations into your life. If you are constantly unafraid of approaching someone, of talking about a massive idea you have, or of doing things that others generally shy away from, at some point you will stand out. By definition, you can’t expect to stand out by following the crowd. Doing things like emailing people you are interested in, working on a side project, or trying to teach yourself a valuable new skill will eventually culminate in a remarkable life – or so I hope. All I know is that i don’t believe you can do the same thing as everyone else and expect disproportionate results. As Seth Godin said, don’t get picked. Choose yourself. And when you have applied this mentality to several years of your life/career, people will take note of your success and ignore the trail of false starts, failure and trials of confidence that marked the way.

The Easiest Way for Wikipedia to Make Money

“Nonprofits that create a transformational societal impact like Wikipedia often go deeper into the negative direction of economic impact the bigger they get, because it takes more donation dollars to support their growth.”          - Max Marmer (via HBR)

Wikipedia should start putting affiliate book links in the Bibliography/External Links portion of many of their information pages. On the Ruby on Rails page, there are links to 7 different programming books in the Bibliography. All links go to some catalogue or other listing of the book – how much more valuable would a link to an Amazon page be? If I’m looking at the Wikipedia page, it would seem that I am interested enough in the topic that I may consider buying a book about Ruby on Rails. Putting an affiliate link in the bibliography doesn’t detract from my experience with Wikipedia in any way, and would lead me to a page where I can see reviews from others who have gone through the book.

Sure, this could lead to complications and gaming the system, though I believe those could easily be combatted by only allowing certain users to post affiliate links. Or, list all books on the topic with at least a 4 star rating and 20 reviews on Amazon – something along those lines. Either way, the potential for revenue is enormous. Wikipedia requires $10m a year to operate (source). With Amazon affiliate fees ranging between 4-8.5% based on sales volume, Wikipedia could fund and grow their operations just by implementing this relatively simple program. Here’s the math (with very conservative assumptions) on their potential revenue:

With 340 million visitors each month, assuming 15% of those page views are on topics that would work well with this, that’s 51 million visitors reading a topical page each month. Say only 20% of those individuals are interested in learning more about a topic, and the other 80% are just brushing up on their knowledge – 10,200,000 engaged and interested visitors each month. Of that, if only 5% were interested in buying a book, we have 510,000 potential purchasers. At an 8% affiliate commission – and assuming an average price of $15 per book – Wikipedia is looking at $612,000 in monthly revenue from something that is none too difficult to implement. That covers more than 60% of their annual operating costs!

I commend other organizations like DonorsChoose.org who are working on ways to become self-sustaining. Charles Best, the founder of DonorsChoose, has made sustainability his mission by implementing an affiliate program for others who drive donations to their site, and by asking for an (optional) percentage of each donation to towards covering operational costs. We need organizations like Wikipedia and DonorsChoose. The more self-sustaining they are, the better they can fulfill their mission.

What do you think? Would this make sense for them to do? How else could they make money without negatively impacting the user experience?

Personal Spectrums

This has been an amazing week. I met over 50 other student entrepreneurs at Ebootcamp, spent a week in California, got a job offer, and spoke one on one with two billionaires. I’ve been very lucky to with these things, as these are not exactly the typical experiences of a 22 year old senior. And it all happened in one awesome week.

I want to focus on my interactions with the two billionaires and a few lessons I drew from that. The first thing I noticed from interacting with each of them (Peter Thiel and Vinod Khosla) was that I am taller than both of them. The second thing I noticed is just how normal they were. After talking with each of them, it was clear that they were exceptionally smart but still relatively normal people.

One thing that’s interesting about interacting with these people is that you can relate to them on a spectrum you (or I, at least) never thought possible. As I’ve interacted with more and more slightly famous people over the past two years, I’ve come to the realization that every one of the famous people you look up to or are impressed with are completely normal people. My hypothesis for this “surprise” revelation (which really shouldn’t be a surprise if you think about it) is that meeting someone in person involves a collision of two different personal spectrums of experience.

For example, Peter Thiel is literally 200,000 times wealthier than I am. He has accomplished far more than I am likely to accomplish in my career, and many regard him as a visionary.  Before this week, I only related to him in an abstract sense through reading his essays and learning about his various companies, investments and projects. In a career and wealth sense, Thiel is so far beyond my experience and spectrum of experience that it makes him hard to relate to. You can’t imagine having that kind of wealth or influence until you have it. If my idea of making a lot of money (right now) would be making $50k a year, we operate on vastly different planes of experience.

Meeting someone in person removes this abstract separation. Even though in a career and wealth sense I am miles removed from Theil’s status, as a person we are more similar than we are different. A good analogy I recall from Nassim Taleb’s Black Swan is that of wealth and height. If you were to average the heights of everyone in the world, it would follow a normal distribution and would result in a few outliers who were 7-8 feet tall. That would be unusual, and remarkable, but still within the realm of your experience. You can mentally understand how being 2-3 feet taller would affect your life and relate to it on some level. Tall people create a sense of surprise, but not one of awe or long-term admiration.

This is completely different with wealth. Mentally, it is just not possible for us to process the fact that someone like Peter Thiel has as much personal wealth as several countries, or the bottom 5% of the US population – over 5 million people. This type of wealth and career success is so far removed from my (and others) experience with the world that it is difficult to realistically conceive of. Thus, there’s this feeling of awe and extreme respect that makes the famous seem so different from us, as if we couldn’t imagine being in their shoes. Because, literally, we couldn’t.

Meeting these people in person helps you mitigate this effect – you are, in a sense, humanizing them. When you meet someone in person, no matter their station in life they can only be so different than you. They still experience human emotions, have human physical needs and talk in a common language. You come to realize that you share far more with them than not: something that’s difficult to realize and conceptualize about someone that you only read about. Relating to them on a human spectrum, rather than artificially comparing yourself to them on a wealth/career spectrum, makes a world of difference. It’s something I’ve started to think about as I slowly come in contact with more individuals like this.

Like I referenced in an earlier post, there’s also a staircase of emotions and expectations that go along with meeting some of these people.  I was thinking yesterday about the first time I met Justin Goldman, a fantastic mentor who really got me started and helped me figure out to do with all this startup stuff. Now Justin is a great guy and has had some moderate successes, but he’s not a household name (nothing wrong with that). Yet before our first meeting (as a college sophomore) I remember being extremely nervous. I drove into the city an hour early, paid extra money to park in a garage rather than look for a spot and possibly be late for our lunch meeting, overdressed, and was generally just nervous and unsure of myself. Yet just 1.5 years later, meeting with far “bigger” names doesn’t inspire the same reaction. Since that first meeting, I’ve had countless conversations, read hundreds of books and blog posts, and generally become a much more experienced individual. All that translates to an increased level of confidence and a realization that I’m not so different from the most famous individuals out there – at least that’s how I’ve come to think of it.

This is a really long-winded way of getting to the point I really want to make: people are people. Whether or not someone is absurdly wealthy, famous, intelligent or not you can always relate to them on some level. Knowing this, and receiving the confidence bump that comes with this realization, is something worth working towards. It helps put things in perspective. After I met with Vinod, a few of my friends were saying how cool it was that I got his card. Realizing he’s another human, just one with a few more successes under his belt, helps keep my perspective in check. Yea, he’s wealthy and intelligent. But on another level, it was just one conversation among two people. And that’s something I never would have understood a year ago.

Products as Processes

I recently finished Clayton Christenson’s Innovators Dilemma, one of the best business and strategy books I’ve read so far. I’ll do a deep dive on the book later, but man is it good. Some of the top investors in the world (Fred Wilson, Chris Dixon, Mark Suster) have mentioned they use it as their framework when deciding which companies to invest in. In a recent Chris Dixon post, this part really struck me:

“This does not mean every product that looks like a toy will turn out to be the next big thing. To distinguish toys that are disruptive from toys that will remain just toys, you need to look at products as processes. Obviously, products get better inasmuch as the designer adds features, but this is a relatively weak force. Much more powerful are external forces: microchips getting cheaper, bandwidth becoming ubiquitous, mobile devices getting smarter, etc. For a product to be disruptive it needs to be designed to ride these changes up the utility curve.”

This is such a good point, and one that is often overlooked. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dismissed a new product or idea by taking it at face value. I remember first seeing Twitter and thinking it would never work because nobody wanted to sit at their computer typing little updates about their day. I was very, very wrong.

Twitter really took off with the proliferation of mobile devices. Once it was easy for people to tweet anything that was on their mind, the exact moment they came up with it, Twitter’s adoption took off. I almost never use Twitter except when I’m on my iPhone. Chris Dixon has another fantastic post here, where he mentions the power of network effects in technology adoption. While those are extremely powerful, and a strong  growth driver for Twitter, I’d also argue that complements played a big part in Twitter’s growth. A basic tenet of microeconomics is that as the price of complements decrease, the demand for a product will increase. Gas and cars are a good example – if the price of cars go down, the demand (and thus the price) for gas goes up. This is the reason why Google is working on making a cheap operating system for their Chrome netbooks – the cheaper and easier it is for people to get online, the greater the chances that they interact with Google through one of their products. This is also a major driver behind their Google Fiber program – I’m sure they are tracking the jump in users from Kansas City (the city they outfitted with high-speed) that results from new high-speed broadband.

This same driver is behind the growth of Twitter, as well as hundreds of mobile apps over the past 5 years. As smartphones became more and more common, and the data plans on each phone got cheaper, suddenly the demand for mobile products goes up. In Twitter’s case, that demand doesn’t translate to profits but rather a massive increase in users.

As another smart post points out, this means that companies want to try and commoditize their product’s complements. A good example of this is playing out right now as Amazon tries to commoditize content (books and video) with their Amazon streaming service. For $36 a year, you have access to tons of streaming content through Amazon.

They’re also pushing their self-publishing platform, and incentivizing authors (by giving them a larger portion of proceeds – 70% I believe) to sell each ebook for less than $2.99 (rather than the traditional $15-25). Why are they doing this? Complements! When 5 of your favorite bloggers or authors release an ebook for $2.99 on Amazon, guess what device you want to buy to read them? A Kindle. And once you own a Kindle, spending $10.99 on a book at a later point makes far more sense than spending $79.99 + $10.99 for the Kindle and the book.

I don’t pretend to know much about this stuff, but business strategy is something that fascinates me. As technology moves faster and faster, I think it will be increasingly important to have the ability to think strategically and play for the long term.

April Thoughts

* shorter post due to a crazy week *

“Education isn’t a problem until it serves as a buffer from the real world and a refuge from the risk of failure”         – Seth Godin

This is my favorite quote from Seth’s Stop Stealing Dreams manifesto that I went through a few weeks ago. It really resonated with me because I find it so true. In a month I’ll be graduating, and I can see how many fellow graduates are treating education as a fill-in next step because they don’t know what to do.

Higher education is increasingly serving as a buffer from the real world. This buffer is a privilege that has become expected and makes the real world seem scary. For most of human history, there was no easy path to a comfortable life. Only within the past 50-100 years has the idea of college = a comfortable life come to life. Before that, education occurred on the job, in the real world. The idea that you could be more successful by disappearing from the real world and learning only from books was absurd.

I know that I’ve learned more from reading and applying what I read than I have from any class I’ve taken in school. Writing also helps with the learning process, and helps filter what I learned through the lens of my experience. For example, I’m working through Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People right now, and doing so very slowly. I’m trying to apply one principle from the book every day for a week and seeing how things go for me. Someone, I forget who, had a fantastic quote about how reading more is the easiest way to be smarter- you essentially are spending a few hours to learn everything about a subject from someone who has studied the issue extensively for at least a year.

 

Links I found interesting this week:

Article about Chicago’s new mayor. I especially liked how he is having corporations shape the curriculum of local community colleges, and give those graduates preference when they hire. It’s similar to what I wrote about here where corporations are beginning to assume the responsibility of educating future employees due to institutional failure.

Post from Chris Dixon about how the next big thing will look like a toy. He draws this idea from the Innovator’s Dilemma, a book I just finished this week. Things I see looking like toys: photovoltaic cells, electric cars, drones, and the entire Maker movement. I think all of these things will grow to become far more prevalent than they are now.

Patio11‘s comment really resonated with me – “Indeed, part of me thinks that applications (in general) are a backup filtering mechanism for people who haven’t figured out a more effective way to get what they want yet.”

The Problem With “Failing Fast”

There’s a large body of thought out there (especially in startup culture) that abides by the credo of “fail fast”. Basically, the idea is to launch something quickly, get it out in the marketplace, and then see how people respond to it. This holds with startups and side projects, and is the driving idea behind events like Startup Weekend.

I’ve started to see a bit of a problem with this approach however. The problem with startups in general is that it is incredibly hard to tell when you are failing. Right now, there are thousands of entrepreneurs running failing businesses – they just don’t know it yet. Most startups fail – that’s a fact, and one that people tend to forget. I was part of a slowly failing startup for over a year, and we were some of the last people to realize it.

I think the issue is that it is not only hard to tell if you are failing, but it continuously seems like you are succeeding. During the year I spent with a failing startup, we would have several weeks of work punctuated by positive events – great meetings with people who loved the idea, good feedback from some very smart people, press coverage, and even a funding event just a month before we shut down. In the midst of positive metrics and events – more press, (slowly) increasing metrics, enthusiastic reactions from investors and other entrepreneurs – it was nearly impossible for us to tell that we were failing. We were playing the wrong game, trying to grow our business in an area that didn’t make much sense. Looking back on things, even if the metrics we were using would have increased by 500% in 2 months, we still would not have been a near-profitable company. This was certainly a situation where we could have used strategy – we were trying to win a battle that wasn’t worth winning.

This issue goes beyond feedback and vanity metrics. Not only is it possible to look like you are succeeding when you really aren’t, but it’s even easier to feel like you are succeeding while you are failing. Startups are hard work, and you spend tons of time working towards a definite project end. Finishing a marketing campaign or writing the final lines of code for a feature all feel like success. You set a goal and worked hard to complete it. My entire life, setting a goal and completing it meant I succeeded. All through school, finishing a task meant that I had completed something and completed it well. That’s not the case in startups. Rather, there’s a large possibility that what you spent hours building has no bearing on your chances of success.

This difficulty in measuring success and progress extends beyond startups. People (myself included) get caught up in vanity metrics (Facebook friends, Twitter followers, blog readers) that look like personal success. Does having 1000 Twitter followers really mean that you’re making an impact? Does 1000 Facebook friends really mean that you are a good person and a genuine friend? Does your number of LinkedIn connections show how well-connected you are? These things can all act as distractions. Worse, they can fool you into believing you are something you’re not. This things are tools – yes they can help facilitate and create relationships, but they aren’t measuring sticks. Carpenters would never judge each other on the number of tools the other owned. Rather, they judge someone by their body of work.

As an entrepreneur, it is so easy to get addicted to the feeling of “success” that comes with telling people you run your own company. You can easily sell something on a vision you have for your company, regardless of how close you are to that vision. The hard part of all this is delivering real results. In the end, that’s all you are measured on. I made a horrible timing error this past year that is hurting my business, yet every day I can still feel “successful” talking to people about running a company.

This doesn’t mean I dislike running my own company. I love it. I’m learning so much, meeting some amazing people, and am very happy with where I am. I just find it so easy to get sucked into the trappings of startups and not focus on the real work that needs to be done.

Philosophy and Startups

Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations has had a stronger impact on me than any other book I’ve read in the past year. One of my favorite passages has been on my mind lately:

“The time that any man may live is but a little, and the place where he lives is but a little corner of the earth, and the greatest fame that can remain of a man after his death, even that is but a little.” – Marcus Aurelius

It’s so easy for me to get caught up in small, trivial matters where I lose sight of the bigger picture. I’m doing some cool things at a young age, but the truth is that it doesn’t mean anything. The stuff I’m doing has such a tiny impact on my day to day existence. What is so impressive to me is how Aurelius recognizes this even as he is a god at the time he wrote the Meditations. At the time of Marcus’ rule, Roman emperors were treated like deities by their people. Aurelius had more power than almost anyone in history (certainly more than anyone could imagine having today), and yet was fully aware that his fame and his time on this earth was fleeting. What Marcus realized, and what I’m working on understanding, is that chasing after fleeting things will always end in unhappiness. True happiness and satisfaction comes from living well and constantly working to improve yourself.

Like I said, I’m slowly learning this. One year ago, I remember telling myself “if I could only get into Alphalab with a company I started, I’d be happy. That would be it!”. Now, in that position, I can see that the staircase goes much farther than I thought. There are millions of people more successful than me, smarter than me, and doing much bigger things than I am. As you move up the ladder and start to interact with increasingly more successful people, I’ve come to realize just how far “behind” I really am.

I think philosophy has a lot of parallels with startups in general. The idea of working on yourself and not chasing fleeting things can easily be applied to companies. Rather than chase the latest local-mobile-social trend, you can work on building real value and working on your company. In a way, it’s freeing. You don’t have to create an iPhone app, invest in social media marketing, define a Pinterest strategy, or do 100 other trivial things that are big today but will be gone tomorrow. Instead, you can focus on the product, your customers, and building something that delivers value – the things that matter.

It’s also harder. When you float with the trends, it’s easy to blame failure on a shifting trend or marketing timing. For me, I know that trying to focus on what’s important has made some of my excuses hollow. I’m just now starting to realize that I made a big mistake 6 months ago in my planning, one that I’ll be paying for over the next year. It sucks, but it’s also a learning experience. I messed up, I’m moving on and I’m learning from it. I’m improving, and I’ll be a better entrepreneur because of it.

My mentor pointed out this weekend that an idea I had was actually a cover for the fact that I didn’t want to deal with a tough stretch I’m going through. Rather than push through, I wanted to change and do something totally different. It sounds reasonable, but in reality was a way of disguising fear. On top of this fear lay the hundreds of decisions I have to make – some small, some critical – that could determine the success or failure of my startup. Something that’s really helped me overcome this fear is thinking about how in the end, it doesn’t really matter. Decisions that seem enormous right now will be trivial in 15 years. Realizing that in the end, if I come out of this startup experience a smarter, better person, it’s all worth it. Thinking like this certainly helps me get through some tough, stressful times, and challenges me to constantly improve.

Framework for Startup Ideas

Paul Graham had a fantastic recent post on ambitious startup ideas that is well worth reading. My biggest takeaway from that post is his framework for thinking of big ideas that have massive impact:

“One of my tricks for generating startup ideas is to imagine the ways in which we’ll seem backward to future generations. And I’m pretty sure that to people 50 or 100 years in the future, it will seem barbaric that people in our era waited till they had symptoms to be diagnosed with conditions like heart disease and cancer.”

This framework for ideas is brilliant. This is the type of long-term thinking that makes great companies. At Cloudfab, Nick (the founder) believed that in 10 years, getting things made would not require calling 15 local manufacturers, receiving quotes, and then making a decision. Our vision for Cloudfab was a distributed manufacturing system that would fundamentally change the way people manufacture things. We were starting with 3d printing because of its benefits (rapidly growing market, standard file specs, similar quality end-product no matter where it’s made), but the goal was to eventually change how things were manufactured. Generations from now, people will not be searching for manufacturers around them. Whether or not the future includes a distributed manufacturing operation remains to be seen, but you can bet that manufacturing will be far different in 5-10 years than it is today. Though Cloudfab may have had the wrong approach, there are other companies (Protomold being one of them) that are working towards the future of manufacturing in different ways. I also applied this type of thinking with RoommateFit – will universities still be matching incoming students at random in 5-10 years? Probably not.

This framework also fits with a brilliant comment left on a recent Ribbonfarm post (talking about technology cycles that boost certain segments of the economy while leaving others untouched):

“Early on we get rapidly improving computers and IT infrastructure. This stuff is nice to have but has a relatively small impact on the overall economy. We would probably call this the cheap trick… The cheap trick provides some nice bonus stuff for everyone to play with and boosts gdp by a couple points but is only disruptive to a small portion of the economy.

We then enter the middle portion of the cycle…digital technology eats increasing portions of the industrial economy, accelerating as it goes. Eventually we reach a point (basically today +/- a few years) wherein the cycle has gained too much momentum to be slowed. It has already eaten major chunks of the economy, leaving unemployment, bankruptcy and the like in its wake, but the disrupted portion of the population still faces significant expenses from the yet-to-be-disrupted portions of the economy. In our case that would include healthcare, education, defense and major portions of the energy industry…industries that have paradoxically gotten more expensive even in absolute terms.

The big lift (in economic terms) consists of the push to bring these holdout industries in line with the leading industries. In the mean time we get bizarre inconsistencies like people who can access vast repositories of medical information for free but who can’t afford branded antibiotics, or people who pay $0 for the majority of their (mostly digital) entertainment and leisure but who could easily spend $50+ just for a cab ride to go out on the town for a night.”

Combining these two frameworks creates all kinds of ideas for new startups. It allows you to think about what industries are yet to be disrupted, as well as major changes that will likely happen within the next 50 (ex: switch from email to something else). In a future post I’ll outline several ideas I have about industries to be disrupted, as well as various startup ideas I have.