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Brin and Page had put their finger on the Catch-22 of the search business: if results improved so much that they became uncannily accurate and precise—like a chess computer arriving at the single best move for a certain position—then advertising will have lost much of its purpose. You would be shown where to go based on the consensus “best result,” and thus should have little interest in hearing what an advertiser wanted to tell you. OK, there might be a few ads to introduce a new product, or to try to persuade you to switch between brands, but this wasn’t the basis of growing business. A search engine needed to sell something valuable—like reaching customers in a way competitors couldn’t—if it wanted to make a lot of money. The bad incentives were clear: search companies would stop trying to improve their services for business reasons, which is why Page and Brin toward the end of their paper made the following assertion: “We believe the issue of advertising causes enough mixed incentives that it is crucial to have a competitive search engine that is transparent and in the academic realm.”

um ya

—p.120 Sergey Brin and Larry Page (113) by Noam Cohen 7 years, 4 months ago

All of which raises some intriguing alternative history: Would Brin and Page have remained true to noncommercial search had they met at a top-class school with a less go-go culture, like, say, MIT? Could they and we have avoided this reimagining of Google’s relationship with its users? Or would we instead be talking about a different pair of brilliant Stanford graduate students who researched how to improve Web search and inevitably found their way to Sand Hill Road, while our alternative-universe Brin and Page would be obscure but distinguished computer science professors?

probably the latter tbh. that's my hypothesis due to like neoliberalism and stuff

—p.134 Sergey Brin and Larry Page (113) by Noam Cohen 7 years, 4 months ago

After some fumbling with other ideas, Thiel and Levchin came up with PayPal, which would create “a new Internet currency to replace the U.S. dollar.” Thiel pitched the idea as fulfilling his anti-government dream of a global market that protects the welfare of the public by empowering them as consumers: “What we’re calling ‘convenient’ for American users will be revolutionary for the developing world. Many of these countries’ governments play fast and loose with their currencies. . . . Most of the ordinary people there never have an opportunity to open an offshore account or to get their hands on more than a few bills of a stable currency like U.S. dollars.” But there was that other thing, too, the chance to make a fortune. If you happened to create and own a new digital currency, you could collect a cut from each online transaction. You would become the middleman of e-commerce, commerce, as David Shaw and Jeff Bezos had sketched out, without incurring a retailer’s burden of keeping track of orders, maintaining warehouses, and making deliveries.

does your currency have an army tho. no? ok bud

—p.139 Peter Thiel (137) by Noam Cohen 7 years, 4 months ago

[...] it appeared to Thiel and his comrades, multiculturalism had the single, overarching purpose of coddling the weak. Stanford students, some of the most talented young people of their generation, shouldn’t need to be shielded from occasional strong language or from the uncomfortable fact that the world’s best thinkers were not neatly divided among various racial, sexual, ethnic, and social groups.

hahahahaaaaaa

—p.141 Peter Thiel (137) by Noam Cohen 7 years, 4 months ago

“In the multicultural allegory, the wealthy are per se oppressive, because their success creates misfortunes for others. The other two possible causes of poverty—bad fortune or bad choices—are rejected a priori. Quite naturally, multiculturalists conveniently overlook the fact that without productive people paying taxes, there could be no welfare for the poor.”

aaaaaaaaah kill me

—p.141 Peter Thiel (137) by Noam Cohen 7 years, 4 months ago

These two distinct pools of candidates for PayPal resulted in an initial staff that was nearly all white and nearly all male. Of the six original founders, the one nonwhite person was an immigrant from China. All were men. All but Thiel were twenty-three or younger. Four had built bombs in high school. A picture of the staff six months later shows that it had grown to thirteen and included one woman, an office assistant. “The early PayPal team worked well together because we were all the same kind of nerd,” Thiel recalled. “We all loved science fiction: ‘Cryptonomicon’ [by Neal Stephenson] was required reading, and we preferred the capitalist Star Wars to the communist Star Trek.”

good lord

thought: homogeneity as a symptom. a symptom of what? not sure, but it's definitely not good

—p.148 Peter Thiel (137) by Noam Cohen 7 years, 4 months ago

Thiel’s complaint against eBay wasn’t so much about its monopoly powers, but that it was becoming a monopoly in online payments instead of PayPal. According to Thiel, a truly free market, with perfect knowledge and perfect competition, leads to failure for everyone. “Under perfect competition, in the long run no company makes an economic profit,” he writes, adding the emphasis. “The opposite of perfect competition is monopoly.” Thus, the goal of any sane start-up should be to create a monopoly. When Thiel uses the term monopoly, he hastens to add, he does not mean one based on illegal bullying or government favoritism. “By ‘monopoly,’ we mean the kind of company that’s so good at what it does that no other firm can offer a close substitute,” he writes in Zero to One, his business-advice book.

i wonder if there's any critical analysis of that last point in the book (i can't remember). why can no firm offer a close substitute? why is no one else able to replicate it, if it's lucrative enough that people would want to? if it's based on IP restrictions, then surely that's government favoritism. but if it's not, and if it instead stems from the idea that some lone genius CEO is so high IQ that no one else can come close, then, well, he's an idiot

—p.157 Peter Thiel (137) by Noam Cohen 7 years, 4 months ago

Under this theory of benevolent monopolies, government regulations and laws are unnecessary. Taxes are in effect replaced by monopoly profits—everyone pays their share to Google, Facebook, Amazon, PayPal. And in contrast to the government, these profits are allocated intelligently into research and services by brilliant, incorruptible tech leaders instead of being squandered by foolish, charismatic politicians. Levchin, during an appearance on The Charlie Rose Show, was asked about the libertarian cast to Silicon Valley leaders. He said he personally was OK with taxes being used to build and maintain roads, for well-functioning law enforcement and national security. For helping those less fortunate, too. But, he added, “I have relatively low trust in some of my local politicians . . . to spend my taxes on things that really do matter. And so this lack of inherent trust of the local or broader political establishment is probably the most defining, most common feature of Silicon Valley ‘libertarians.’”

what are the axioms here? that people who are smart enough to accrue monopoly profits are also smart enough to put their money in the right place (research-wise) rather than hoarding it for themselves ...? what evidence is there to back this up ... especially historically ...

—p.158 Peter Thiel (137) by Noam Cohen 7 years, 4 months ago

The tools for collaboration and direct publishing that Tim Berners-Lee had argued for at the start were introduced to the mainstream during these years as Web 2.0. This phrase immediately stuck in his craw, however. What exactly was new—2.0-ish, that is—about these companies built around user contributions? They were simply fulfilling the original vision for the Web, where “interaction between people is really what the Web is.” 5 There was one vital difference, however. In Web 2.0, the tools for sharing and publishing were part of a social network or service that profited off of what you created there. You weren’t publishing a video to the Web, you were publishing a YouTube video; you weren’t writing a restaurant review on the Web, you were posting a Yelp review. The truly new idea expressed by Web 2.0 was a commercial one, and perhaps that is why Berners-Lee couldn’t recognize it.

sad

—p.162 Reid Hoffman et al. (161) by Noam Cohen 7 years, 4 months ago

There is something jarring about a group of self-styled survival-of-the-fittest free-marketeers committing to a strategy of collective risk and mutual support. At least one pillar of the Silicon Valley ideology was toppled by this arrangement: that success was handed out to an entrepreneur strictly according to ability and hard work, no matter his station in life or place of origin. Marc Andreessen once expressed this faith in individual merit in an interview with the New York Times journalist Tom Friedman, offering another example of how the world is flat: “The most profound thing to me is the fact that a 14-year-old in Romania or Bangalore or the Soviet Union or Vietnam has all the information, all the tools, all the software easily easily available to apply knowledge however they want. That is, I am sure the next Napster is going to come out of left field.” Somehow, things haven’t quite worked out that way. Instead, a collection of male executives from a single company, a few of whom were hired as much for their right-wing political beliefs as for any latent computer or business talent, managed to create a roster of successful companies. A kid in Romania, it seems, no matter how talented, didn’t stand a chance against these guys.

Considering their origin in university friendships and earlier start-ups, networks like the PayPal mafia tended to be nearly uniform when it came to sex, race, and educational background: white, male, elite. Somehow, though, the experience of profiting from connections and college friendship hasn’t diminished the lecturing from Silicon Valley about how other institutions—typically highly unionized ones like the public school system or the automobile industry—are rife with favoritism. Here is Hoffman explaining Detroit’s decline in The Start-Up of You, his business-advice book: “The overriding problem was this: The auto industry got too comfortable. . . . Instead of rewarding the best people in the organization and firing the worst, they promoted on the basis of longevity and nepotism.” Hoffman makes no mention of any similarity to the PayPal mafia, which he describes this way: “My membership in a notable corporate alumni group in Silicon Valley has opened the door to a number of breakout opportunities.”

—p.166 Reid Hoffman et al. (161) by Noam Cohen 7 years, 4 months ago