Isegoria

Paul Graham presents The Hacker’s Guide to Investors:

1. The investors are what make a startup hub
2. Angel investors are the most critical.
3. Angels don’t like publicity.
4. Most investors, especially VCs, are not like founders.
5. Most investors are momentum investors.
6. Most investors are looking for big hits.
7. VCs want to invest large amounts.
8. Valuations are fiction.
9. Investors look for founders like the current stars.
10. The contribution of investors tends to be underestimated.
11. VCs are afraid of looking bad.
12. Being turned down by investors doesn’t mean much.
13. Investors are emotional.
14. The negotiation never stops till the closing.
15. Investors like to co-invest.
16. Investors collude.
17. Large-scale investors care about their portfolio, not any individual company.
18. Investors have different risk profiles from founders.
19. Investors vary greatly.
20. Investors don’t realize how much it costs to raise money from them.
21. Investors don’t like to say no.
22. You need investors.
23. Investors like it when you don’t need them.

He explains his fifth point:

Because most investors are dealmakers rather than technology people, they generally don’t understand what you’re doing. I knew as a founder that most VCs didn’t get technology. I also knew some made a lot of money. And yet it never occurred to me till recently to put those two ideas together and ask “How can VCs make money by investing in stuff they don’t understand?”

The answer is that they’re like momentum investors. You can (or could once) make a lot of money by noticing sudden changes in stock prices. When a stock jumps upward, you buy, and when it suddenly drops, you sell. In effect you’re insider trading, without knowing what you know. You just know someone knows something, and that’s making the stock move.

This is how most venture investors operate. They don’t try to look at something and predict whether it will take off. They win by noticing that something is taking off a little sooner than everyone else. That generates almost as good returns as actually being able to pick winners. They may have to pay a little more than they would if they got in at the very beginning, but only a little.

This is similar to the point Robert Shiller makes about the Internet bubble of a few years ago:

Some sociologists talk about collective consciousness. We humans evolved to be very closely linked, and our minds focus on the same ideas. Those [ideas] get reinforced because we hear them all the time.

Back in the late 1990s, you kept hearing that you had to stake your claim on the Internet or you’d miss out on the future. No one cared about the present. Then something happened around March 2000. There was an acceleration of public talk about doubts. You could no longer declare at a cocktail party that Internet stocks were going up. Such statements had become embarrassing — and just like that, word of mouth changed.

Embarrassment is a powerful emotion.

Paul Graham presents The Hacker’s Guide to Investors:

1. The investors are what make a startup hub
2. Angel investors are the most critical.
3. Angels don’t like publicity.
4. Most investors, especially VCs, are not like founders.
5. Most investors are momentum investors.
6. Most investors are looking for big hits.
7. VCs want to invest large amounts.
8. Valuations are fiction.
9. Investors look for founders like the current stars.
10. The contribution of investors tends to be underestimated.
11. VCs are afraid of looking bad.
12. Being turned down by investors doesn’t mean much.
13. Investors are emotional.
14. The negotiation never stops till the closing.
15. Investors like to co-invest.
16. Investors collude.
17. Large-scale investors care about their portfolio, not any individual company.
18. Investors have different risk profiles from founders.
19. Investors vary greatly.
20. Investors don’t realize how much it costs to raise money from them.
21. Investors don’t like to say no.
22. You need investors.
23. Investors like it when you don’t need them.

He explains his fifth point:

Because most investors are dealmakers rather than technology people, they generally don’t understand what you’re doing. I knew as a founder that most VCs didn’t get technology. I also knew some made a lot of money. And yet it never occurred to me till recently to put those two ideas together and ask “How can VCs make money by investing in stuff they don’t understand?”

The answer is that they’re like momentum investors. You can (or could once) make a lot of money by noticing sudden changes in stock prices. When a stock jumps upward, you buy, and when it suddenly drops, you sell. In effect you’re insider trading, without knowing what you know. You just know someone knows something, and that’s making the stock move.

This is how most venture investors operate. They don’t try to look at something and predict whether it will take off. They win by noticing that something is taking off a little sooner than everyone else. That generates almost as good returns as actually being able to pick winners. They may have to pay a little more than they would if they got in at the very beginning, but only a little.

This is similar to the point Robert Shiller makes about the Internet bubble of a few years ago:

Some sociologists talk about collective consciousness. We humans evolved to be very closely linked, and our minds focus on the same ideas. Those [ideas] get reinforced because we hear them all the time.

Back in the late 1990s, you kept hearing that you had to stake your claim on the Internet or you’d miss out on the future. No one cared about the present. Then something happened around March 2000. There was an acceleration of public talk about doubts. You could no longer declare at a cocktail party that Internet stocks were going up. Such statements had become embarrassing — and just like that, word of mouth changed.

Embarrassment is a powerful emotion.

Paul Graham says that there are Two Kinds of Judgement: the first kind, where judging you is the end goal, and the second kind, where judging you is only a means to something else.

As children, we tend to face the first — grades, competitions, etc. — much more than the second, so we’re indignant when we’re misjudged:

One thing that leads us astray here is that the selector seems to be in a position of power. That makes him seem like a judge. If you regard someone judging you as a customer instead of a judge, the expectation of fairness goes away. The author of a good novel wouldn’t complain that readers were unfair for preferring a potboiler with a racy cover. Stupid, perhaps, but not unfair.

Paul Graham explains Why to Not Not Start a Startup:

We’ve now been doing Y Combinator long enough to have some data about success rates. Our first batch, in the summer of 2005, had eight startups in it. Of those eight, it now looks as if at least four succeeded. Three have been acquired: Reddit was a merger of two, Reddit and Infogami, and a third was acquired that we can’t talk about yet. Another from that batch was Loopt, which is doing so well they could probably be acquired in about ten minutes if they wanted to.

So about half the founders from that first summer, less than two years ago, are now rich, at least by their standards. (One thing you learn when you get rich is that there are many degrees of it.)

I’m not ready to predict our success rate will stay as high as 50%. That first batch could have been an anomaly. But we should be able to do better than the oft-quoted (and probably made up) standard figure of 10%. I’d feel safe aiming at 25%.

Even the founders who fail don’t seem to have such a bad time. Of those first eight startups, three are now probably dead. In two cases the founders just went on to do other things at the end of the summer. I don’t think they were traumatized by the experience. The closest to a traumatic failure was Kiko, whose founders kept working on their startup for a whole year before being squashed by Google Calendar. But they ended up happy. They sold their software on eBay for a quarter of a million dollars. After they paid back their angel investors, they had about a year’s salary each. [1] Then they immediately went on to start a new and much more exciting startup, Justin.TV.

Paul Graham asks, Is it worth being wise?:

Another sign we may have to choose between intelligence and wisdom is how different their recipes are. Wisdom seems to come largely from curing childish qualities, and intelligence largely from cultivating them.

Recipes for wisdom, particularly ancient ones, tend to have a remedial character. To achieve wisdom one must cut away all the debris that fills one’s head on emergence from childhood, leaving only the important stuff. Both self-control and experience have this effect: to eliminate the random biases that come from your own nature and from the circumstances of your upbringing respectively. That’s not all wisdom is, but it’s a large part of it. Much of what’s in the sage’s head is also in the head of every twelve year old. The difference is that in the head of the twelve year old it’s mixed together with a lot of random junk.

The path to intelligence seems to be through working on hard problems. You develop intelligence as you might develop muscles, through exercise. But there can’t be too much compulsion here. No amount of discipline can replace genuine curiosity. So cultivating intelligence seems to be a matter of identifying some bias in one’s character—some tendency to be interested in certain types of things—and nurturing it. Instead of obliterating your idiosyncrasies in an effort to make yourself a neutral vessel for the truth, you select one and try to grow it from a seedling into a tree.

The wise are all much alike in their wisdom, but very smart people tend to be smart in distinctive ways.

Most of our educational traditions aim at wisdom. So perhaps one reason schools work badly is that they’re trying to make intelligence using recipes for wisdom. Most recipes for wisdom have an element of subjection. At the very least, you’re supposed to do what the teacher says. The more extreme recipes aim to break down your individuality the way basic training does. But that’s not the route to intelligence. Whereas wisdom comes through humility, it may actually help, in cultivating intelligence, to have a mistakenly high opinion of your abilities, because that encourages you to keep working. Ideally till you realize how mistaken you were.

(The reason it’s hard to learn new skills late in life is not just that one’s brain is less malleable. Another probably even worse obstacle is that one has higher standards.)