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Christopher Marks

Zero to One: Notes on Startups, or How to Build the Future

5 min read

Only about a fifth of the way through Zero to One by Peter Thiel and Blake Masters, but here's a few excerpts I particularly like.

 

This first quotation neatly summarises my frustration with higher education, and the problems associated with competition and extrinsic goals:

"Competition is not just an economic concept or a simple inconvenience that individuals and companies must deal with in the marketplace. More than anything else, competition is an ideology--the ideology--that pervades our society and distorts our thinking. We preach competition, internalize its necessity, and enact its commandments; and as a result, we trap ourselves within it--even though the more we compete, the less we gain. This is a simple truth, but we've all been trained to ignore it. Our educational system both drive and reflects our obsession with competition. Grades themselves allow precise measurement of each student's competitiveness; pupils with the highest marks receive status and credentials. We teach every young person the same subjects in mostly the same ways, irrespective of individual talents and preferences. Students who don't learn best by sitting still at a desk are made to feel somehow inferior, while children who excel on conventional measures like tests and assignments end up defining their identities in terms of this weirdly contrived academic parallel reality. And it gets worse as students ascend to higher levels of the tournament. Elite students climb confidently until they reach a level of competition sufficiently intense to beat their dreams out of them. Higher education is the place where people who had big plans in high school get stuck in fierce rivalries with equally smart peers over conventional careers like management consulting and investment banking. For the privilege of being turned into conformists, students (or their families) pay hundreds of thousands of dollars in skyrocketing tuition that continues to outpace inflation. Why are we doing this to ourselves?"

 

Thiel then expands on his own personal experience, and how he wish he got out of this mindset earlier:

"I wish I had asked myself when I was younger. My path was so tracked that in my 8th-grade yearbook, one of my friends predicted--accurately--that four years later I would enter Stanford as a sophomore. And after a conventionally successful undergraduate career, I enrolled at Stanford Law School, where I competed even harder for the standard badges of success. The highest prize in a law student's world is unambiguous: out of tens of thousands of graduates each year, only a few dozen get a Supreme Court clerkship. After clerking on a federal appeals court for a year, I was invited to interview for clerkships with Justices Kennedy and Scalia. My meetings with the Justices went well. I was so close to winning this last competition. If only I got the clerkship, I thought, I would be set for life. But I didn't. At the time, I was devastated. In 2004, after I had built and sold PayPal, I ran into an old friend from law school who had helped me prepare my failed clerkship applications. We hadn't spoken in nearly a decade. His first question wasn't "How are you doing?" or "Can you believe it's been so long" Instead, he grinned and asked: "So, Peter, aren't you glad you didn't get that clerkship?" With the benefit of hindsight, we both knew that winning that ultimate competition would have changed my life for the worse. Had I actually clerked on the Supreme Court, I probably would have spent my entire career taking depositions or drafting other people's business deals instead of creating anything new. It's hard to say how much would be different, but the opportunity costs were enormous. All Rhodes Scholars had a great future in their past."

 

Also snaps for anything that skewers economics (in its current state) for being a pseudoscience:

"So why are economists obsessed with competition as an ideal state? It's a relic of history. Economists copied their mathematics from the work of 19th-century physicists: they see individuals and businesses as interchangeable atoms, not as unique creators. Their theories describe an equilibrium state of perfect competition because that's what's easy to model, not because it represents the best of business. But it's worth recalling that the long-run equilibrium predicted by 19th-century physics was a state in which all energy is evenly distributed and everything comes to rest--also known as the heat death of the universe. Whatever your views on thermodynamics, it's a powerful metaphor: in business, equilibrium means stasis, and stasis means death. If your industry is in a competitive equilibrium, the death of your business won't matter to the world; some other undifferentiated competitor will always be ready to take your place. Perfect equilibrium may describe the void that is most of the universe. It may even characterize many businesses. But every new creation takes place far from equilibrium. In the real world outside economic theory, every business is successful exactly to the extent that it does something others cannot. Monopoly is therefore not a pathology or an exception. Monopoly is the condition of every successful business. Tolstoy opens Anna Karenina by observing: "All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." Business is the opposite. All happy companies are different: each one earns a monopoy by solving a unique problem. All failed companies are the same: they failed to escape competition."