The internet’s business implications were huge. Long before the Valley became associated with “disruption,” Kenney and von Burg pointed out that, with internetworking, “industries that appeared to stabilize, in terms of organizational forms or business models, could be reopened for new rounds of firm formation.”12 That meant growth—albeit the destructive kind—and Silicon Valley became a bipartisan darling as it promised a new phase of postindustrial American expansion. The NASDAQ composite index grew from under 200 in the 1982 recession to over 5,000 in the spring of 2000. With support from the so-called Atari Democrats such as Paul Tsongas, Gary Hart, and Al Gore, the tech industry sealed the precepts of the Reagan Revolution into new and seemingly permanent layers of national infrastructure, from defense and finance to computing and telecommunications to who knows what else. These lean tech firms wiggled out from under the obligations of the New Deal and compensatory versions of the state, and it showed in their numbers. Capital utilization was high, as was revenue per employee, and their profit margins reflected their monopoly positions. Key employees were committed to companies through stock options and grants. One hundred years or so later, it was strikingly analogous to the railroad boom. And as in the joint-stock model back then, the financial regime was about as important as the underlying technology.