Books – Page 85 – artdiamondblog.com

First Principle for Trustbusters Should Be “Do No Harm”

(p. A2) In essence, Justice says that, beginning in 2008, several plankton, in the form of five publishers, conspired against a whale, Amazon, whose monopoly clout had imposed a $9.99 retail price for e-books.
The deal the publishers eventually reached with Apple unfixed the price of e-books by linking their prices to the cover price of the print version. More importantly, publishers could begin to reclaim the right to set e-book retail prices generally.
. . .
Apple, with 15% of the e-book market, is no monopolist. The five publishers, though Justice insists they dominate trade publishing, account for only about half of e-book sales. Crucially for antitrust, the barriers to entry are zilch: Amazon, with 60% market share, could create its own e-book imprint tomorrow and begin bidding for the most popular authors.
. . .
Let’s go back to “per se” vs. “rule of reason.” Because the 1890 Sherman Act is so sweeping and almost any business arrangement could be read as prohibited, courts understandably evolved a “rule of reason” to distinguish the permissible from the impermissible. Unfortunately, the result has been antitrust as we know it: wild and fluctuating discretion masquerading as law. Retail price maintenance alone has been embraced and dumped so many times by the courts that it must feel like Jennifer Aniston.
“Do no harm” would be a better principle for trustbusters.

For the full commentary, see:
HOLMAN W. JENKINS, JR. “BUSINESS WORLD; Washington vs. Books; What about piracy, low barriers to entry and the fact that literature isn’t chopped liver?” The Wall Street Journal (Sat., April 14, 2012): A15.
(Note: the online version of the commentary is dated April 13, 2012.)

Entrepreneur Krupp Was Paternalistically “Benevolent” and Was Skeptical of Capitalism

Source of book image: online version of the WSJ review quoted and cited below.

(p. A13) Harold James, professor of history and international affairs at Princeton University, portrays a vastly different organization in “Krupp,” a painstaking chronicle of a company that traces its roots to a steel foundry in Essen in 1810. Mr. James’s Krupp is a company for which the manufacturing of war matériel was always of secondary interest to that of civilian production. The company might have preferred to concentrate on manufacturing railroad equipment and consumer goods, but in the developing and expansionist German empire of the 19th century, state requirements for the tools of power dovetailed with Krupp’s desire for regular long-term contracts. The result for Krupp was a practical, if not deliberate, focus on armaments.

From the manufacturer’s perspective, the emphasis on war matériel did not consign Krupp to the ranks of belligerent militarists; it was just smart business. “The purpose of work should be the common good,” founder Alfred Krupp once said, or at least that quote graces a statue the company erected after his death in 1887. All through the 19th century, Mr. James says, the pursuit of profit was less central to the Krupp mission than building a solid enterprise within a framework of social responsibility. As early as 1836, Krupp established a voluntary health-insurance program for its workers. By the middle of the century, life-insurance and pension plans had been instituted. Workers’ hostels and company hospitals were constructed. In exchange for this paternalistic benevolence, Krupp expected complete loyalty from its work force and vehemently opposed the slightest hint of union organization or political activity among its employees.
“Alfred Krupp perfectly fits the mold of the heroic entrepreneur,” Mr. James writes. “Profoundly skeptical of joint-stock companies, banks, and capitalism in general, but also of big-scale science and modern research methods, he was a genius at extending to its utmost limits the possibilities of the craft entrepreneur.”

For the full review, see:
JENNIFER SIEGEL. “BOOKSHELF; Heavy Industry, Burdened Past; The company’s 19th-century founder said it was devoted to the “common good.” In World War II, it worked hard for the Third Reich.” The Wall Street Journal (Tues., April 17, 2012): A13.
(Note: the online version of the interview is dated April 16, 2012.)

Texas Was a Place Where It Was OK for an Entrepreneur to Be Poco Loco

(p. 42) Today, everybody knows something about Texas, but in those days Texas was still like an undiscovered oasis of freethinking, individualistic, action-oriented, business-minded people. It was a place where gut American characteristics were concentrated and magnified. A place where you could taste the frontier spirit that is part of our national heritage. There was a feeling in the air that you could invent yourself as any character you chose, and that your neighbors would leave you alone to be whoever you wanted to be. I liked the aggressiveness of the people in pursuing their goals, and the fact that you could be poco loco, as Spanish speakers say: a little crazy. This quality is a big help when you’re an entrepreneur. I felt that, in Dallas. there was extra oxygen in the air.

Source:
Wyly, Sam. 1,000 Dollars and an Idea: Entrepreneur to Billionaire. New York: Newmarket Press, 2008.
(Note: italics in original.)

Quick Computing If Air Conditioning Worked

(p. 36) Using those IBM 650s was no easy feat. You had to take your turn in line with the other students, write your program, key punch it onto a big stack of cards, do your proofs to make sure it was accurate, and feed it into the computer. If you were lucky and the air-conditioning did not malfunction, you’d get your results back quickly. But there would be errors, which you had to correct, and then you had to repeat the process over and over again until the 650–working on the data with the program that you wrote–came up with the right answers.

Source:
Wyly, Sam. 1,000 Dollars and an Idea: Entrepreneur to Billionaire. New York: Newmarket Press, 2008.

“Birdseye Coaxes Readers to Re-examine Everyday Miracles”

Source of book image: http://media.miamiherald.com/smedia/2012/05/04/10/50/13z9ot.Em.56.jpg

(p. C7) Birdseye made and lost money, went west to search for the cause of Rocky Mountain spotted fever and hunted fox for furs in Labrador, where he took his wife and infant son to live 250 miles by dogsled from the nearest hospital. He harpooned whales near his home in Gloucester, Mass., and wore a necktie while doing it. And he designed the industrial processes that made it possible to fast-freeze food, thus rendering obsolete much canned, dried, salted and smoked food and the musty basement bins that once held a winter’s diet of turnips, onions and potatoes.

Food had been frozen earlier but more slowly. Crystallization turned it mushy and tasteless. It was poor man’s food. In Labrador, fishing with the Inuit, Birdseye noticed that when a fish was pulled from a hole in the ice and into minus-40-degree air, it froze instantly, staying so fresh that when it was thawed months later, it would sometimes come alive.
He spent years putting together modern mass production with what he had seen in Labrador. By the 1920s, he was fast-freezing food that was far closer to fresh than any competition. “Today’s locavore movement–the movement to shun food from afar and eat what is produced locally . . . would have perplexed him,” Mr. Kurlansky writes. After all, “consumers could go to a supermarket and buy the food of California, France and China for less money.”
. . .
The author makes a telling point about locavores: “We need to grasp that people who are accustomed only to artisanal goods long for the industrial. It is only when the usual product is industrial that the artisanal is longed for. This is why artisanal food, the dream of the food of family farms, caught on so powerfully in California, one of the early strongholds of agribusiness with little tradition of small family farms.”
Birdseye’s heroism has been forgotten, and his frozen food is taken for granted, the way all inventions are taken sooner or later. He sold his business for $23.5 million in 1929 to what would become General Foods. He stayed on as a consultant and also ran his light bulb company, which he would sell too.

For the full review, see:
HENRY ALLEN. “The American Way of Eating; Harlan Sanders and Clarence Birdseye, just like today’s locavores, saw a meal as a way to improve people’s lives.” The Wall Street Journal (Sat., May 5, 2012): C5 & C7.
(Note: ellipsis added.)
(Note: the online version of the review is dated May 4, 2012.)

(p. C6) “Birdseye” is a slight but intriguing book that raises far more questions than it answers. But it indeed coaxes readers to re-examine everyday miracles like frozen food, and to imagine where places with no indigenous produce would be without them. It emphasizes the many steps that went into developing such a simple-seeming process.

For the full review, see:
JANET MASLIN. “BOOKS OF THE TIMES; The Inventor Who Put Frozen Peas on Our Tables.” The New York Times (Thurs., April 26, 2012): C6.
(Note: the online version of the review is dated April 25, 2012.)

Book reviewed:
Kurlansky, Mark. Birdseye: The Adventures of a Curious Man. New York: Doubleday, 2012.

“Mark Kurlansky.” Source of caption and photo: online version of the NYT article quoted and cited above.

A “Boring” and “Excellent” Business Education

(p. 34) Most of what they taught us in those days was functional. This was before they added “entrepreneurship” to business courses. It was all about manufacturing, marketing, and personnel. I found that somewhat boring. I had two favorite courses. The first was Small Business. It was the only course where all the pieces carne together. The other was Computing, which was the first computer course that the Michigan Business School had ever taught. I had a feeling that this was the big new thing. But, more important, it was what IBM did. I had never seen a computer lab before. This was soon after Remington Rand made headlines with its UNIVAC I, the world’s first commercial computer.
. . .
(p. 59) The University of Michigan is an excellent school. I loved being there and I am proud to have earned an MBA. When I was there, I noticed that the fìve-and–ten-cents-store founder, Sebastian S. Kresge–the man who invented the Kmart chain–had given them Kresge Hall. When I could afford to, I figured, why not do the same? I have always been so grateful for what I learned there. In 1997 I gave the school funding for a Sam Wyly Hall. (A few years earlier, Charles and I had helped to build Louisiana Tech’s 16-story Wyly Tower of Learning.) It’s fulfilling to me that today Paton Scholars study at Sam Wyly Hall on the Ann Arbor campus.

Source of both quotes:
Wyly, Sam. 1,000 Dollars and an Idea: Entrepreneur to Billionaire. New York: Newmarket Press, 2008.
(Note: ellipsis added.)

Some Tasks Are Done Better in Private Offices

Source of book image: http://timeopinions.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/quiet-final-jacket.jpg

(p. 4) When the R.C. Hedreen Company, a real estate development firm based in Seattle, commissioned a renovation of a 10,800-square-foot floor in an old downtown office building five years ago, it specified a perimeter of private offices. Collaborative spaces are provided for creative teamwork, but the traditional offices remain the executives’ home ports.

”Individually, a lot of our workday is taken up with tasks that are better served by working alone in private offices,” says David Thyer, Hedreen’s president.
Susan Cain, author of ”Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking,” is skeptical of open-office environments — for introverts and extroverts alike, though she says the first group suffers much more amid noise and bustle.
Introverts are naturally more comfortable toiling alone, she says, so they will cope by negotiating time to work at home, or by isolating themselves with noise-canceling headphones — ”which is kind of an insane requirement for an office environment, when you think about it,” she says.
Ms. Cain also says humans have a fundamental need to claim and personalize space. ”It’s the room of one’s own,” she says. ”Your photographs are on the wall. It’s the same reason we have houses. These are emotional safety zones.”

For the full story, see:
LAWRENCE W. CHEEK. “Please, Just Give Me Some Space: In New Office Designs, Room to Roam and to Think.” The New York Times, SundayBusiness Section (Sun., March 18, 2012): 1 & 4.

The book mentioned is:
Cain, Susan. Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking. New York: Crown, 2012.

Entrepreneur Sam Wyly Hard to Classify

Source of book image: http://www.charlesandsamwyly.com/images/1000-dollars-and-an-idea.jpg

I sometimes divide entrepreneurs into two broad types: free agent entrepreneurs and innovative entrepreneurs. Free agent entrepreneurs are the self-employed. Innovative entrepreneurs are the agents of Schumpeter’s process of creative destruction.
Then there are entrepreneurs like Sam Wyly who don’t fit very well in either category.
He built or improved businesses in ways that made the world better, but usually did not involve breakthrough innovations.
Like many of the entrepeneurs considered in Amar Bhidé’s main books, Wyly grew businesses that served consumers, enriched investors and created jobs. Some of his most important start-ups, especially early-on, involved computer services. And his efforts to compete with the government-backed AT&T monopoly, were heroic.
I read the 2008 version of his autobiography a few months ago, and found that it contained a few stories and observations that are worth pondering. In the next few weeks I will briefly quote a few of these.

The 2008 Wyly autobiography is:
Wyly, Sam. 1,000 Dollars and an Idea: Entrepreneur to Billionaire. New York: Newmarket Press, 2008.

I have not read the 2011 version of Wyly’s autobiography:
Wyly, Sam. Beyond Tallulah: How Sam Wyly Became America’s Boldest Big-Time Entrepreneur. New York: Melcher Media, 2011.

The dominant examples in Bhidé’s two main books are entrepreneurs like Wyly. The two main Bhidé books are:
Bhidé, Amar. The Origin and Evolution of New Businesses. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2000.
Bhidé, Amar. The Venturesome Economy: How Innovation Sustains Prosperity in a More Connected World. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2008.

Steve Jobs Channels Ellis Wyatt

(p. 260) In 2007 Forbes magazine named Steve Jobs the highest-paid exec-(p. 261)utive of any of America’s five hundred largest companies, based on gains in the value of stock granted to him at Apple. He was on the board of directors of the Walt Disney Co. Yet his former residence in Woodside, where he had once met with Catmull and Smith and mused about buying Lucasfilm’s Computer Division, was now in a state of decay under his ownership.
He had wanted to demolish it; after a group of neighborhood residents opposed his plan to do so, he left the house open to the elements. The interior suffered damage from water and mold. Vines crept up the stucco walls and wandered inside.
The memories that haunted its hallways were those of Jobs’s darkest times. He had bought the house only months before the humiliation of his firing from Apple; he lived in it through that firing and through the hard, money-hemorrhaging years of Pixar and NeXT. He left it as his fortunes were about to change, as he was sending Microsoft away from Pixar, convinced that he had something he should hold on to.
When a judge ruled against his quest for a demolition permit, Jobs appealed in 2006 and 2007 all the way to the California Supreme Court, but he lost at every stage. He received proposals from property owners offering to cart the house away in sections and restore it elsewhere; he rejected them. One way or another, it seemed, he meant for the house to be destroyed.

Source:
Price, David A. The Pixar Touch: The Making of a Company. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2008.
(Note: italics in original.)
(Note: The passage above is from the Epilogue and the pages given above are from the hardback edition (pp. 260-261). The identical passage also appears in the 2009 paperback edition, but on p. 265.

“There Was Never a Plan . . . Just a Series of Mistakes”

“Robert Caro in his Manhattan office. The later volumes of his L.B.J. biography have taken more years to write than it took the former president to live them.” Source of caption and photo: online version of the NYT article quoted and cited below.

(p. 37) “There was never a plan,” Caro said to me, explaining how he had become a historian and biographer. “There was just a series of mistakes.”
. . .
(p. 38) Caro had a[n] . . . epiphany about power in the early ’60s. He had moved on to Newsday by then, where he discovered that he had a knack for investigative reporting, and was assigned to look into a plan by Robert Moses to build a bridge from Rye, N.Y., across Long Island Sound to Oyster Bay. “This was the world’s worst idea,” he told me. “The piers would have had to be so big that they’d disrupt the tides.” Caro wrote a series exposing the folly of this scheme, and it seemed to have persuaded just about everyone, including the governor, Nelson Rockefeller. But then, he recalled, he got a call from a friend in Albany saying, “Bob, I think you need to come up here.” Caro said: “I got there in time for a vote in the Assembly authorizing some preliminary step toward the bridge, and it passed by something like 138-4. That was one of the transformational moments of my life. I got in the car and drove home to Long Island, and I kept thinking to myself: ‘Everything you’ve been doing is baloney. You’ve been writing under the belief that power in a democracy comes from the ballot box. But here’s a guy who has never been elected to anything, who has enough power to turn the entire state around, and you don’t have the slightest idea how he got it.’ ”
The lesson was repeated in 1965, when Caro had a Nieman fellowship at Harvard and took a class in land use and urban planning. “They were talking one day about highways and where they got built,” he recalled, “and here were these mathematical formulas about traffic density and population density and so on, and all of a sudden I said to myself: ‘This is completely wrong. This isn’t why highways get built. Highways get built because Robert Moses wants them built there. If you don’t find out and explain to people where Robert Moses gets his power, then everything else you do is going to be dishonest.’ “

For the full story, see:
CHARLES McGRATH. “Robert Caro’s Big Dig.” The New York Times Magazine (Sun., April 15, 2012): 34-39 & 52.
(Note: ellipses and bracketed letter added.)
(Note: the online version of the story is dated April 12, 2012.)

Caro’s book on Robert Moses is:
Caro, Robert A. The Power Broker: Robert Moses and the Fall of New York. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1974.