Why ‘Leaders’ Aren’t Smart

Friday, August 28th, 2009

When she was on Letterman, Tina Fey diplomatically questioned Sarah Palin’s intelligence:

I see her and think she’s as smart as I am. I want someone smarter than that in the White House.

Eric Falkenstein considers it naive to expect smart leaders:

If you have an IQ above, say, 130, you can’t mouth the inconsistent platitudes with sufficient sincerity to be elected leader. That is, a really smart person can’t in good conscience say that ‘giving to the United Way is the most important thing we do here at Amalgamated Financial’, or that you listen to each customer suggestion on various product releases. It’s BS, but the troops need to hear it, so they get the only people who actually can champion such inconsistent policies. Both Obama and McCain are overselling a load of policies that won’t change much, except for the new government bureacrats in charge (as opposed to the people they are supposed to help), but that ‘not-so-bright’ mindset was necessary to win their party’s nomination. Someone with a painful sense of the obvious and inconsistent, would be seen as not sufficiently inspiring to the masses, as I’m sure he would not be. So we give the people what they want, good and hard.

Humans live in a ‘reverse dominance hierarchy’, so that a leader too dominant, not sufficiently deferential, will not be chosen to lead. Humans hate hubris in their leaders more than anything else, and so a smart guy, who can’t fake appreciating the vastly more numerous pedestrian managers out there, will not get enough support. Anyone with a sufficiently high IQ, to be consciously faking there enthusiasm for the pap they are pushing, is so evil they are much worse. Thus, be happy with the stupid 125 IQ guys, it’s as good as it’s gonna get. The exceptions you see, mainly, are really smart founders who often created their product.

GRE v. GMAT: Battle of the B-School Gatekeepers

Friday, August 28th, 2009

Until recently, the GMAT exam had a virtual monopoly over business school standardized exams:

That all changed on Jan. 1, 2006, when GMAC cut its ties with the Educational Testing Service (ETS), with whom it had a decades-long partnership to develop and deliver the GMAT exam, moving instead to a new testing administrator, Pearson VUE. The severing of ties meant that ETS no longer had to abide by a noncompete clause with GMAC, giving it the green light to court business school admissions officers and promote the GRE as an alternative exam. Under the previous agreement between ETS and GMAC, this type of activity was forbidden.

“Once they ended the contract with us, we were able to move into this market,” says David Payne, head of the GRE program for ETS.

To capitalize on the opportunity, ETS has been aggressively marketing the GRE to B-school admissions officers in recent months, placing advertising campaigns in key business publications, paying visits to business schools admissions teams, and developing new testing tools that it hopes will convince more schools to use the GRE, says Payne. ETS has also been promoting the exam as a more affordable option for students; it costs $150 to take the GRE, versus $250 for the GMAT.

Why Cash Flow Works

Wednesday, August 26th, 2009

Most bad business models will go on until the cash runs out, Eric Falkenstein notes:

That’s why cash flow is a useful predictor, because money losers keep losing money, and driving the stock down, until it goes to zero. Sort of like GM’s strategy.

This is basically foreshadowed by Warren Buffet (p. 85 Investor’s Anthology), when he wrote these common company foibles:

  1. An institution will resist any change in its current direction;
  2. Just as work expands to fill available time, corporate projects or acquisitions will materialize to soak up available funds;
  3. Any business craving of the leader, however foolish, will be quickly supported by detailed rate-of-return and strategy studies prepared by his troops; and
  4. The behavior of peer companies, whether they are expanding, acquiring, setting executive compensation or whatever, will be mindlessly imitated.

The Programming Antihero

Tuesday, August 25th, 2009

Noel Llopis describes The Programming Antihero on his team:

I was fresh out of college, still wet behind the ears, and about to enter the beta phase of my first professional game project — a late-90s PC title. It had been an exciting rollercoaster ride, as projects often are. All the content was in and the game was looking good. There was one problem though: We were way over our memory budget.

Since most memory was taken up by models and textures, we worked with the artists to reduce the memory footprint of the game as much as possible. We scaled down images, decimated models, and compressed textures. Sometimes we did this with the support of the artists, and sometimes over their dead bodies.

We cut megabyte after megabyte, and after a few days of frantic activity, we reached a point where we felt there was nothing else we could do. Unless we cut some major content, there was no way we could free up any more memory. Exhausted, we evaluated our current memory usage. We were still 1.5 MB over the memory limit!

At this point one of the most experienced programmers in the team, one who had survived many years of development in the “good old days,” decided to take matters into his own hands. He called me into his office, and we set out upon what I imagined would be another exhausting session of freeing up memory.

Instead, he brought up a source file and pointed to this line:

static char buffer[1024*1024*2];

“See this?” he said. And then deleted it with a single keystroke. Done!

He probably saw the horror in my eyes, so he explained to me that he had put aside those two megabytes of memory early in the development cycle. He knew from experience that it was always impossible to cut content down to memory budgets, and that many projects had come close to failing because of it. So now, as a regular practice, he always put aside a nice block of memory to free up when it’s really needed.

He walked out of the office and announced he had reduced the memory footprint to within budget constraints — he was toasted as the hero of the project.

As horrified as I was back then about such a “barbaric” practice, I have to admit that I’m warming up to it. I haven’t gotten into the frame of mind where I can put it to use yet, but I can see how sometimes, when you’re up against the wall, having a bit of memory tucked away for a rainy day can really make a difference. Funny how time and experience changes everything.

The End of Innocence

Monday, August 24th, 2009

Steve Blank, prompted by a tale of PR companies posting positive reviews for their clients’ apps, shares an anecdote that illustrates the end of innocence:

When I was in my mid 20’s working at ESL, I was sent overseas to a customer site where the customers were our three-letter intelligence agencies. All of us knew who they were, understood how important this site was for our country, and proud of the work we were doing. (Their national technical means of verification made the world a safer place and hastened the end of the Soviet Union and the Cold War.)

As a single guy, I got to live in a motel-like room on the site while the married guys lived in town in houses and tried to blend in with the locals. When asked what they did, they said they worked at “the xxx research facility.” (Of course the locals translated that to “oh do you work for the yyy or zzz intelligence agency?”)

One warm summer evening I got invited over to the house of a married couple from my company for a BBQ and after-dinner entertainment — drinking mass quantities of the local beer. The quintessential California couple, they stood out in our crowd as the engineer (in his late 20’s, respected by his peers and the customer) had hair down to his shoulders, sharply contrasting with the military crewcuts of the customers and most of the other contractors. His wife, about my age, could have been a poster child for the stereotypical California hippie surfer, with politics that matched her style — anti-war, anti-government, anti-establishment.

One of the rules in the business was that you didn’t tell your spouse, girlfriend, significant other who you worked for or what you worked on — ever. It was always a welcome change of pace to leave the brown of the unchanging desert and travel into town and have dinner with them and have a non-technical conversation about books, theater, politics, travel, etc. But it was a bit incongruous to hear her get wound up and rail against our government and the very people we were all working for. Her husband would look at me out the corner of his eyes and then we’d segue the conversation to some other topic.

That evening I was there with three other couples cooking over the barbie in their backyard. After night fell we reconvened in their living room as we continued to go through the local beer. The conversation happened to hit on politics and culture and my friend’s’ wife innocently offered up she had lived in a commune in California. Well that created a bit of alcohol-fueled cross-cultural disconnect and heated discussion.

Until one of the other wives changed a few lives forever with a slip of the tongue.

One of the other wives asked, “Well what would your friends in the commune think of you now that your husband is working for intelligence agencies x and y?”

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, I felt time slow down. The other couples laughed for about half a second expecting my friend’s wife to do so as well. But instead the look on her face went from puzzlement in processing the question, to concentration, as she was thinking and correlating past questions she had about who exactly her husband had been working for. It seemed like forever before she asked with a look of confusion, “What do you mean agencies x and y?”

The laughter in the room stopped way too soon, and the room got deathly quiet. Her face slowly went from a look of puzzlement to betrayal to horror as she realized that that the drunken silence, the dirty looks from other husbands to the wife who made the agency comment, and the wives now staring at their shoes was an answer.

She had married someone who never told her who he was really working for. She was living in a lie with people she hated. In less than a minute her entire worldview had shattered and coming apart in front of us, she started screaming.

This probably took no more than 10 seconds, but watching her face, it felt like hours.

I don’t remember how we all got out of the house or how I got back to the site, but to this day I still remember standing on her lawn staring at strange constellations in the night sky as she was screaming to her husband, “Tell me it isn’t true!”

The next day the site supervisor told me that my friend and his wife had been put on the next plane out of country and sent home (sedated) along with the other couple that made the comment. By the time I came back to the United States, he was gone from the company.

It’s been thirty years, but every once an awhile I still wonder what happened to the rest of their lives.

Strategy a Function of Skill

Monday, August 24th, 2009

The ideal strategy is a function of skill:

Simon Ramo identified the crucial difference between being a good at ‘amateur’ tennis, and professional tennis: for the best of the best, you need good ‘winning’ shots; to be a good ‘average’ player, you need to merely lower your failure rate. In expert tennis, 80% of the points are won, while in amateur tennis, 80% are lost.

Erik Falkenstein brings this notion into the world of investing:

I think this is relevant to investing, in that for retail investors, who don’t have an edge, they should prioritize the following: minimize costs and diversify. For that select few with an edge, the focus is on fundamentals (financial statements, business model), and though you minimize costs and diversify to the degree you can, it isn’t a priority.

How do Afghani drug lords spend their absurd earnings?

Monday, August 24th, 2009

How do Afghani drug lords spend their absurd earnings? It’s not practical to spend it all abroad:

So Afghanistan’s drug lords import loaded Lexus Land Cruisers with tinted windows and video entertainment systems. They throw parties. Haji Jumah Khan’s parties were highly alcoholic, lasted all night, and featured prostitutes flown in from Russia. Mainly, though, they build stuff — they remake the country to accommodate their acquired appetites. The pioneering Khan bought a town (land, buildings) in southern Helmand Province and transformed it into a rejuvenating way-station for his drug runners, who could pause after their travails and walk, self-reflectively, along the shores of a big artificial lake.

“Narcotecture” is the term used in Afghanistan to describe what the drug lords build. The Sherpur neighborhood in Kabul has the greatest concentration of narcotecture, but the phenomenon is national. Square blocks are razed, ancient family compounds are razed, and narco-palaces, sometimes several on a single vast lot, go up. The mansions may have twelve bathrooms, four kitchens, and rooftop parking lots. Many are fenced and armored; all are guarded.

Stylistically, narcotecture is incoherent and dizzyingly busy. Residences are composed of clashing globe-spanning elements: Asian pagoda tiers and eaves curving to points, Greek temple columns, mirrored skyscraper glass, medieval-castle balustrades and parapets, Persian pillars and arches, arabesque wrought-iron balcony railings, confectionary plasterwork. Some are straight imitations: a White House is under construction in Sherpur.

Inside: three-thousand-dollar Italian chandeliers, basement swimming pools, neon lighting systems that saturate floors. One mansion, according to Monocle magazine, has neon floors in alternating colors: blue on the second floor, pink on the first floor, and a “tutti-fruiti mélange” in the basement.

These structures look down upon, usually, squalor, the condition in which most Aghans live. A private residence with fourteen bathrooms may occupy the same unpaved street as tin-sheet huts and bomb-wrecked, squatter-occupied buildings exposed to unchanneled flows of sewage.

You Wouldn’t Like Me When I’m Angry

Monday, August 24th, 2009

Nick Waanders employed a creative variant of the kanban to get his game-development team to focus on what really mattered — call it, You Wouldn’t Like Me When I’m Angry:

It’s hard to convince a team of 100 people that the programmers can’t simply “fix” the performance of the engine, and that some of the ways people had gotten used to working to needed to be changed. People needed to understand that the performance of the game was everybody’s problem, and I figured the best way to do this is with a bit of humor that had a bit of hidden truth behind it.

The solution took maybe an hour. A fellow programmer took four pictures of my face — one really happy, one normal, one a bit angry, and one where I am pulling my hair out. I put this image in the corner of the screen, and it was linked to the frame rate. If the game ran at over 30 fps, I was really happy; if it ran below 20, I was angry.

After this change, the whole FPS issue transformed from, “Ah, the programmers will fix it,” to, “Hmm, if I put this model in, Nick is going to be angry! I’d better optimize this a little first.” People could instantly see if a change they made had an impact on the frame rate, and we ended up shipping the game at 30 fps.

The world’s first cocaine bar

Thursday, August 20th, 2009

Route 36, an underground club in Bolivia, is (supposedly) the world’s first cocaine bar:

Down in Route 36′s main room, the scene is chilled. A half-hearted disco ball sporadically bathes the room in red and green light. Each table has candles and a stash of bottled water, plus whatever mixers one cares to add to your drink. In the corner, a pile of board games includes chess, backgammon, and Jenga, the game in which a steady hand pulls out bricks from a tower of blocks until the whole pile collapses. If it weren’t for the heads bobbing down like birds scouring the seashore for food, you would never know that huge amounts of cocaine were being casually ingested. There’s a lot of mingling from table to table. Everyone here has stories — the latest adventures from Ecuador, the best bus to Peru — and even the most wired “why-won’t-he-shut-up?” traveller is given a generous welcome before being sent back to his table, where he can repeat those stories another 10 times.

“Everyone knows about this place,” says Jonas, a backpacker who arrived two days earlier. “My mate came to Bolivia last year and he said, ‘Route 36 is the best lounge in all of South America.’” It is certainly the most bizarre and brazen. Though cocaine is illegal in Bolivia, Route 36 is fast becoming an essential stop for thousands of tourists who come here every year and happily sample the country’s cocaine, which is famous for both its availability, price (around €15 a gram) and purity.

The scene here is peaceful; there seems no fear that anyone will be caught. (“The owner has paid off all the right people,” one waiter says with a smile.) A female backpacker from Newcastle slips on to one of the four couches arranged around the table. “We’ve brought some [cocaine] virgins here. This will be their first time, so we are just rubbing it on their lips. But they are lucky – you could never get such pure coke back home. In London you pay 50 quid for a gram that’s been cut so much, all it does it make your lips numb and sends you to the bathroom.”

Travellers’ blogs also give the place a good writeup. “I travelled the world for nine months, and for sure La Paz was the craziest city and Route 36 the best bar of my entire trip,” writes one, while another says, “Like to burn the candle at both ends? Well, here you can bloody well torch the whole candle.”

How Web-Savvy Edupunks Are Transforming American Higher Education

Wednesday, August 19th, 2009

I cringe when I see Fast Company parody itself with headlines like How Web-Savvy Edupunks Are Transforming American Higher Education — but I found this bit on Western Governors University intriguing:

If open courseware is about applying technology to sharing knowledge, and Peer2Peer is about social networking for teaching and learning, Bob Mendenhall, president of the online Western Governors University, is proudest of his college’s innovation in the third, hardest-to-crack dimension of education: accreditation and assessment.

WGU was formed in the late 1990s, when the governors of 19 western states decided to take advantage of the newfangled Internet and create an online university to expand access to students in rural communities across their region. Today, it’s an all-online university with 12,000 students in all 50 states. It’s a private not-for-profit, like Harvard; the only state money was an initial $100,000 stake from each founding state. WGU runs entirely on tuition: $2,890 for a six-month term.

“We said, ‘Let’s create a university that actually measures learning,’ ” Mendenhall says. “We do not have credit hours, we do not have grades. We simply have a series of assessments that measure competencies, and on that basis, award the degree.”

WGU began by convening a national advisory board of employers, including Google and Tenet Healthcare. “We asked them, ‘What is it the graduates you’re hiring can’t do that you wish they could?’ We’ve never had a silence after that question.” Then assessments were created to measure each competency area. Mendenhall recalls one student who had been self-employed in IT for 15 years but never earned a degree; he passed all the required assessments in six months and took home his bachelor’s without taking a course.

Most students, though, do the full coursework, working at their own pace through online course modules, playlists of prerecorded lectures, readings, projects, and quizzes. For every 80 students, a PhD faculty member, certified in the discipline, serves as a full-time mentor. “Our faculty are there to guide, direct, counsel, coach, encourage, motivate, keep on track, and that’s their whole job,” Mendenhall says.

Multiple-choice tests are scored by computer, while essays and in-person evaluations are judged by a separate cadre of graders. What WGU is doing is using the Internet to disaggregate the various functions of teaching: the “sage on the stage” conveyor of information, the cheerleader and helpmate, and the evaluator. WGU constantly surveys both graduates and their employers to find out if they are lacking in any competencies so they can continue to fine-tune their programs.

Mendenhall is impatient with those who argue that what he’s doing with education and technology is unworkable. “Technology has changed the productivity equation of every industry except education,” he says. “We’re simply trying to demonstrate that it can do it in education — if you change the way you do education as opposed to just adding technology on top.”

How can New York City hot dog vendors afford to pay half a million dollars in rent?

Wednesday, August 19th, 2009

A hot dog vendor lost his spot outside New York City’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, because he failed to pay his monthly rent — of $53,558:

Pasang Sherpa was under contract to pay the Parks Department $362,201 a year for a stand on the south side of the Met’s entrance and $280,500 for another on the north side. That’s a lot of hot dogs.
[...]
What we do know is that even though Sherpa, a rookie, got in over his head, vendors have long been willing to pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to push $2 dogs outside the Met. (The museum attracts 5 million visitors a year, and the hot dog stands are the only food outlets for blocks.) Last year’s occupant paid $415,000 a year for the Met stands plus at least $25,000 for supplies and labor, and didn’t go under — so we can assume he brought in significantly more than $440,000.

Vendors on city streets (as opposed to outside park areas) don’t have to pay rent for specific spots; their only real estate expense is the cart permit the city requires them to buy. Theoretically, that’ll put you back just $200 a year. But since the city caps the number of food vendor permits at 3,100, far below demand, there’s an extensive black market. Some companies buy up the permits for dozens of carts and then lease them to individual vendors at highly inflated prices.

Most food vendors outside the parks system don’t see in a year the kind of money that Sherpa agreed to pay every month. According to street vendor advocacy groups, average vendors make $14,000 to $16,000 a year after they’ve paid for their (likely illegal) permits and received a few tickets. Vendors rack up thousands of dollars in fines every year. They can be fined anywhere from $250 to $1,000 for being parked on the wrong street, being stationed too far from the curb, setting up illegal cart “extensions” that increase their shelf space, or any number of other violations.

What Would Warren Do?

Monday, August 17th, 2009

What Would Warren Do? Lose money, Megan McArdle says, after attending the annual pilgrimage to Omaha:

His acolytes had taken a beating, too — at least the ones I met. Most private-fund managers are cagey about their returns, but everyone at my table at Gorat’s readily admitted to having had a very, very bad year. “I’m down 25 percent,” said one friend I ran into at a “meet and greet.” He runs a tiny hedge fund mostly composed of his own money. But he quickly added, with some cheer, “I’m still outperforming other funds!”

In the coming years, we’ll find out if rising above the madness is enough of a success. In many ways, it’s not even clear that Buffett could replicate his own success if he started out today. He built his reputation as an investor in an era when there were more opportunities for easy money, and these days, the news that Buffett has bought a stock is often enough to help support, or even boost, its price.

But I’m not brave enough to second-guess the Sage of Omaha — certainly not while seated at Gorat’s, cramming myself full of investment advice and moderately priced midwestern beef. And even if none of the value investors I ate with are likely to replicate his outlandish success, they will still have an edge over competitors, and the rest of us, because one Warren-like trait they do share is his commitment to thrift and prudence. Just as Warren still famously lives in the same modest house he purchased in the 1950s, almost everyone I met seemed more interested in building wealth and security than in spending riches. During my five days in Omaha, I had at least three conversations about the best way to save money on rental cars. I’m pretty sure that at least one of the people enthusiastically pitching me an off-brand vendor half an hour from the airport was there on an expense account.

Right now, the academic literature suggests that value investing has a modest advantage over a broader market strategy. Better information, more widely available, may continue to erode that edge. But the principles of prudence, patience, and thrift will always, in the end, offer a better chance at outsize returns. The question is whether, once Saint Warren passes, his followers will find the courage to stick to them.

Is Pharma a Victim of Its Own Hype?

Monday, August 17th, 2009

Is pharma a victim of its own hype? Derek Lowe thinks so:

Consider the public face that our industry projects. Look at the press releases and the advertisements — what’s the impression that you get? That there is a defined process for discovering drugs, for one thing, and what’s more, that we are the master of it. Now, I know that we don’t always send out that message. There are attempts to tell people about how many compounds have to be made, how many projects end up failing. But for the most part, we don’t press-release that stuff.

No, the press releases are for the investors, and for them, we want to project that we’re productive, confident, resourceful. . . in short, that we’ve got things under control. The last thing Wall Street wants to hear about is that you don’t always know which drug targets are the right ones to work on, that you’re not quite sure of the best way to prosecute them, and that (despite continuing efforts) these conditions look to obtain for quite a while to come.

And this attitude is one of the things that seeps out into the general public consciousness. That, I think, is why you get people who are convinced that we could cure a lot of these diseases, but that we just don’t — you know, for all sorts of evil and profitable reasons. They’ve bought into our hype. If we haven’t cured the common cold, that must be because we make a lot more money selling people stuff for it, not because antiviral drug development is flippin’ difficult. (Especially for something like the common cold, but that’s another story).

Now, to some extent, there is a defined process for discovering drugs — well, several defined processes. It’s just that it doesn’t work all that well, not on the absolute scale. No one could look at clinical failure rates of around 90% and say that we’ve got everything covered.

Big Business Goes Big for Health Care Reform

Saturday, August 15th, 2009

John Stossel explains why big business goes big for health care reform:

“What disturbs Americans of all ideological persuasions is the fear that almost everything, not just government, is fixed or manipulated by some powerful hidden hand,” Frank Rich wrote in Sunday’s New York Times.

That manipulation should disturb us. But contrary to Rich, it is not the work of “corporatists” who have sprung up to attack progressive reforms proposed by Obama and the Democratic majority. Manipulation is what we got many years ago when we traded a more or less free market for the “progressive” interventionist state. When government is big, the well-connected always have an advantage over the rest of us in influencing public policy.

Observe: Although President Obama and big-government activists demonize health-insurance companies, the companies “are still mostly on board with the president’s effort to overhaul the U.S. health-care system,” the Wall Street Journal reports; and …

Although the activists criticize Big Pharma, “The drug industry has already contributed millions of dollars to advertising campaigns for the health care overhaul through the advocacy groups like Healthy Economies Now and Families USA. It has spent about $1 million on similar advertisements under its own name,” the Times reports.

Big Pharma and Big Insurance want Obama-style health-care reform?

It’s not so hard to understand. “The drug makers stand to gain millions of new customers,” the Times said.

And from the Journal: “If health legislation succeeds, the [insurance] industry would likely get a fresh batch of new customers. In particular, many young and healthy people who currently forgo coverage would be forced to sign up.” No wonder insurers are willing to stop “discriminating” against sick people. (Forget that the essence of insurance is discrimination according to risk.)

Not that Big Pharma and Big Insurance like every detail of the Democratic plan. Drug companies don’t want Medicare negotiating drug prices — for good reason. If it forces drug prices down, research and development will be discouraged. (Depending whom you believe, Obama may or may not have agreed with the drug companies on this point.)

As for the insurance companies, they worry — legitimately — that a government insurance company — the so-called public option” — would drive them out of business. This isn’t alarmism. It’s economics. The public option would have no bottom line to worry about and therefore could engage in “predatory pricing” against the private insurers.

But despite these differences, the biggest companies in these two industries are on board with “reform.”

It illustrates economist Steven Horwitz’s First Law of Political Economy: “No one hates capitalism more than capitalists.” In this case, big business wants to shape — and profit from — what inevitably will be an interventionist health-care reform. Can you think of the last time a major business supported a truly free market in anything?

But how much electricity does it use?

Wednesday, August 12th, 2009

GM is loudly touting the fact that their new Chevy Volt should get 230 miles per gallon in city driving. But how much electricity does it use?

Applying EPA’s methodology, GM expects the Volt to consume as little as 25 kilowatt hours per 100 miles in city driving. At the U.S. average cost of electricity (approximately 11 cents per kWh), a typical Volt driver would pay about $2.75 for electricity to travel 100 miles, or less than 3 cents per mile.

A typical car might burn five gallons of gas to go 100 miles. At $3 per gallon, that would come to $15.

The Volt looks like it will use 25 kWh in electricity and 0.43 gallons of gas, for roughly $2.75 plus $1.29, or $4.04 — so the cost of electricity is tiny, but it’s still more than the cost of gas.