Neil Mix

Google has launched a social network platform to encompass all social network platforms. Besides the rather meta-meta nature of this play, it’s fascinating to watch the interplay between Google and Microsoft here:

Early October: Ballmer trashes social networks like Facebook as being “fadish”.

A few weeks later: Microsoft invests in Facebook for a ginormous valuation, beating out Google. This gives the appearance that Ballmer was trashing Facebook as a ploy — to lure Google into believing that Microsoft was only mildly interested in Facebook.

Now Google’s announcement. This raises several questions:

• Did Google lure Microsoft into over-bidding for Facebook? (The WSJ already published an article discussing the implications of the inflated valuation on stock options, i.e. Facebook’s diminished ability to use equity to lure top-notch talent.)
• Was Open Social a part of the discussions between Facebook and Google? Did Facebook relent for fear of becoming a share-cropper, i.e. an app on top of a platform, just like apps live on its platform? (Remember, whoever successfully creates the most meta platform wins.)
• And/or, was the loss of Facebook a huge blow to Google’s plans for Open Social?

Fascinating stuff. It does strike me that Google’s play seems incomplete without the big-gorilla Facebook. Does this now become The Law of Duality in action?

Neil’s law:

The size of the bubble is directly related to the number of experts claiming there is no bubble.

Now, I won’t say that we’re going through the exact same thing we did last time. It does appear a few lessons have been learned. But seriously, not every site that attracts a devoted following is going to be capable of generating huge returns using advertising revenues. So there’s going to be fallout. And when that happens, jobs will be lost. It’s a cycle; it’ll happen. It always does.

The amazing thing about market euphoria is the way it tricks people into thinking “This time it’s different! The rules have changed!” As if value can increase unimpeded forever.

That’s not to say we need to be all doom-and-gloom. It’s a fun ride — enjoy it! Just try not to lose your shirt over it. And if you do, enjoy it anyway! You only get a few such opportunities in a lifetime.

What do you do if you’re standing on losing ground in a debate? One option is to bait your opponent with a blatant lie. It’s a dirty trick, but it works, especially when the lie plays into preconceived notions of the listener. Your opponent must respond — silence implies truth. But to expose your lie changes the focus of the debate — is your allegation true, or is it not? Just how true is it? Listeners tend to believe there’s a grain of truth in most any point of view, and cling to falsehoods that justify their world view. Thus you gain ground in casting doubt on your opponent, even though the doubt is entirely baseless.

If you’re lucky, your opponent will be angered by the dirty trick, and argue back with fervor. This reinforces the listener’s (mistaken) notion that reality lies somewhere in the “middle ground.” If you succeed in evoking passionate anger, you’ve maneuvered into equal, polar opposition from your opponent. You’ve gained yet more ground.

What do you do if you’re standing on winning ground and your opponent sucker punches you with a blatant lie? I’m no expert in debate (clueless really), but I decided to do a little research: don’t get angry, don’t argue the veracity of the lie. Instead, re-cast the lie in a context such that the listeners’ thought patterns lead to its dismissal. Easier said than done! But it’s the only path that leads to decisive victory.

Why is this on my mind today? There may be a storm brewing in the web world. I see two opposing entities, and an uncertain future. A shot was fired (sucker punch), and the response was passionate. I can clearly see who’s in the right; those who haven’t been paying attention will not. And thus the passion of the response, while clearly warranted, only serves to establish a firm middle ground for those who don’t care to dig beneath the surface.

Don’t take the bait.

This year marks the 10-year anniversary of my first startup. My high school friend Dan convinced me to start a web-based shopping-cart service with him. My logic went something like this: “Ok, 4 out of 5 companies fail within their first year. But hey, I’m young and employable, what have I got to lose?”

We ran the company out of a spare office in a local ISP’s facility in downtown St. Paul. I worked consulting gigs to fund the business, Dan solicited consulting gigs for me and worked on selling the business. And in whatever spare time we could scrape up, we built the shopping cart.

We made mistakes. Lots of them. Technical mistakes, architectural mistakes, business mistakes, all kinds of mistakes. If I were to do it today, I would do lots differently.

In spite of that, a year later we were bought and relocated to San Francisco. Half a year after that our buyers were bought by Microsoft.

Had we run the business with the benefit of my hindsight and maturity, I suspect we would have failed. Perhaps within a year.

There are a few shared qualities I’d use to describe every successful bootstrapper I’ve met: resourceful, scrappy, never-say-die, and blissfully ignorant of the “correct” solution. Does it work? Ship it. Is it a hack? Ship it. Just do it. Make it work, just do it.

Those were fun days. I miss them. I don’t think I can ever fully return to that life, which is more good than it is bad. But it’s important to never lose touch with the bootstrapping temperament. It needs curbing, restraint. But not too much.