Monday, May 07, 2007
Books That Make You Mad
Ever read a book that makes you mad? I've recently read two that have raised my ire, but for different reasons.
The first was "Wikinomics: How Mass Collaboration Changes Everything" by Don Tapscott and Anthony D. Williams. In the interest of full disclosure, I did not finish reading this book because it made me so mad. First, I slogged through the intro, which seemed to be a repetition of stuff I'd already read elsewhere, i.e. the Internet is making us collaborate more; everyone needs to become more transparent, blah, blah, blah. To be fair, I figured that the book had to start somewhere and had to assume that many readers would be new to its ideas, so I kept going. After the authors launched into how great the current generation is, how so much more creative it is than previous generations, I put the book down. This notion of comparing generations and how great one is in relation to another boils my blood. I wanted to scream, "Who do you think invented the internet and everything that led up to it? Don't you think that was just as creative as what the current generation is doing with new tech tools?" Honestly, I simply can't abide by these judgemental attitudes. It's why I can't stand the term "Greatest Generation" in reference to Depression/WWII folks, or the term "slackers" in reference to Gen-Xers. I don't mind an analysis of generations based upon shared experiences, or short-hand, non-judgemental names, such as Boomers or Millennials, just don't slay entire generations with negative assessments. If anyone has read this book and had a different opinion, please share. Maybe I'll give it another shot.
The second book that made me mad was Nicholson Baker's "Double Fold: Libraries and the Assault on Paper." Working in a museum as I do, I have an incredible fondness for bound volumes of our local newspapers. Leafing through these books, which date back to 1892, is pure joy. Baker's book shows how, with the Library of Congress at the helm, libraries have wholesale ditched their collections of bound volumes of newspapers in favor of microfilming. (Round two is here with the current push toward digitization.) In order to easily microfilm these newspapers, the bindings have to be removed. Libraries, including the Library of Congress (LOC), submitted entire runs of our nation's newspapers to this disbinding. Once this was done, the libraries, finding space ever at a premium, decided to sell or destroy the disbound newspapers, rather than box and store the originals. The Library of Congress has even done this with books. All of this should make us furious. The Library of Congress is supposed to be saving the nation's history, not gutting it for the latest fad in reproduction. Their claim has always been that microfilm is a suitable substitute for newspapers that are crumbling to dust. It is not, for numerous reasons laid out in Baker's book, and the vast majority of newspapers are not crumbling to dust. Trust me, I know. I can still use the 1892 newspaper. It's a bit more delicate than later editions, but still very readable and hardly crumbling to dust or anything else.
The Library of Congress has a requirement that authors must submit a hardcopy of their books when they register for copyright. If the LOC is merely going to slice and film, I'd be tempted as an author to send them a little note with my registration, saying that I'm not going to waste money on giving them a hardcopy being as how they don't want it anyway, and offer to provide a digital copy.
Baker's book is excellent in that it makes me mad in an appropriate, how-can-I-change-the-system way. It goes into all sorts of details about the construction of paper (Did you know that mummy wrappings were used at one time in U.S. paper production?), the chemistry of paper, the political and financial maneuverings of certain high-level LOC officials, and raises questions about what we deem important enough to save. Obviously, I highly recommend this book. It will make you mad and it should.
The first was "Wikinomics: How Mass Collaboration Changes Everything" by Don Tapscott and Anthony D. Williams. In the interest of full disclosure, I did not finish reading this book because it made me so mad. First, I slogged through the intro, which seemed to be a repetition of stuff I'd already read elsewhere, i.e. the Internet is making us collaborate more; everyone needs to become more transparent, blah, blah, blah. To be fair, I figured that the book had to start somewhere and had to assume that many readers would be new to its ideas, so I kept going. After the authors launched into how great the current generation is, how so much more creative it is than previous generations, I put the book down. This notion of comparing generations and how great one is in relation to another boils my blood. I wanted to scream, "Who do you think invented the internet and everything that led up to it? Don't you think that was just as creative as what the current generation is doing with new tech tools?" Honestly, I simply can't abide by these judgemental attitudes. It's why I can't stand the term "Greatest Generation" in reference to Depression/WWII folks, or the term "slackers" in reference to Gen-Xers. I don't mind an analysis of generations based upon shared experiences, or short-hand, non-judgemental names, such as Boomers or Millennials, just don't slay entire generations with negative assessments. If anyone has read this book and had a different opinion, please share. Maybe I'll give it another shot.
The second book that made me mad was Nicholson Baker's "Double Fold: Libraries and the Assault on Paper." Working in a museum as I do, I have an incredible fondness for bound volumes of our local newspapers. Leafing through these books, which date back to 1892, is pure joy. Baker's book shows how, with the Library of Congress at the helm, libraries have wholesale ditched their collections of bound volumes of newspapers in favor of microfilming. (Round two is here with the current push toward digitization.) In order to easily microfilm these newspapers, the bindings have to be removed. Libraries, including the Library of Congress (LOC), submitted entire runs of our nation's newspapers to this disbinding. Once this was done, the libraries, finding space ever at a premium, decided to sell or destroy the disbound newspapers, rather than box and store the originals. The Library of Congress has even done this with books. All of this should make us furious. The Library of Congress is supposed to be saving the nation's history, not gutting it for the latest fad in reproduction. Their claim has always been that microfilm is a suitable substitute for newspapers that are crumbling to dust. It is not, for numerous reasons laid out in Baker's book, and the vast majority of newspapers are not crumbling to dust. Trust me, I know. I can still use the 1892 newspaper. It's a bit more delicate than later editions, but still very readable and hardly crumbling to dust or anything else.
The Library of Congress has a requirement that authors must submit a hardcopy of their books when they register for copyright. If the LOC is merely going to slice and film, I'd be tempted as an author to send them a little note with my registration, saying that I'm not going to waste money on giving them a hardcopy being as how they don't want it anyway, and offer to provide a digital copy.
Baker's book is excellent in that it makes me mad in an appropriate, how-can-I-change-the-system way. It goes into all sorts of details about the construction of paper (Did you know that mummy wrappings were used at one time in U.S. paper production?), the chemistry of paper, the political and financial maneuverings of certain high-level LOC officials, and raises questions about what we deem important enough to save. Obviously, I highly recommend this book. It will make you mad and it should.
Labels: anger, authors, books, copyright, generations, internet, library of congress, newspaper, nicholson baker, paper, reading, wikinomics
Sunday, April 15, 2007
New Business Model
People keep saying that a new business model is coming. (Chris Anderson of The Long Tail, Don Tapscott and Anthony D. Williams of Wikinomics, and others.) When they say this, they are referring to changes brought on by technology and the internet. I keep trying to figure out what they are expecting will happen. What will this new business model look like? What is meant by the term "business model?" I'm no economist, obviously, or I'd probably not question the term "business model." I'd just carry around the definition that some economics professor had crammed down my throat in college.
To figure something out, I like to break it down to its essence. In business, a company sells products or services. Products, at their core, are natural resources - physical stuff like food, minerals, wood, human-made things, etc. When you buy a service, on the other hand, you are buying something intangible, albeit no less real. You're buying time (like when a maid comes and cleans your house, so you don't have to), expertise (like the computer tech who fixes your hard drive after it decides not to work), entertainment (music, movies), knowledge, and attention (you buy attention when you engage the services of an advertiser).
Back when we were a nomadic society, and even in the earliest days of agrarian culture, we "bought" things through barter. "I'll give you ten chickens for that rug." This wasn't always a convenient way to conduct business. What if the rug maker wants a pig, but all you have is chickens? Then, the bright idea of currency dawned. Money became the stand-in for anything of value. (Realize that an entire society has to buy in to this idea for it to work. If someone decides that a currency isn't worth anything, he isn't going to give you a rug for a bunch of coins.) Today, after the New Age movement, many of us think of money as a symbol of energy - the energy it takes to produce something, or the time spent earning that money.
In my estimation, this is the ultimate definition of the term "business model," which is why I'm confused when people talk about a new business model being on the horizon. The fact that we have hierarchical organizations or sole proprietorships, whether we sell in a physical location or online, whether someone works in a factory, a cubicle, or from home, or all the permutations a business can take in selling products and services, these are merely frills to the underlying scheme. Sell your goods and services and make as much money out of the deal as you can. In order to get back more than you give (profit!), you have to convince the buyer that your goods and services are worth more, or you have to cut your costs in providing that good or service.
The sources that indicate there is to be a new business model point to the internet as the source of that model. They talk about the reduction in cost of holding inventory. If the goods we buy can be held in a warehouse, or better yet, held as bits and bytes of digital data, which costs virtually nothing, the seller can make more money. Yay for the seller! But this is still no different from the basic premise of doing business. We've just learned how to bring costs down to practically zero.
The other area in which I see talk of a new business model is in the music industry. Here, people are saying that the music itself will no longer be the product. Musicians will make money through peripherals, selling concert tickets and merchandise. Honestly, how long in the history of human beings on earth have musicians actually made money on the music itself? Before the advent of recorded music and copyright laws, musicians likely made their money on the performances, so we're coming full-circle.
Even stripping it all down, the idea of the "business model" still confuses me. Is it the basis of business, or does it include the frills of how that business is conducted? I wish some bright economist could explain this to me. Then maybe I could begin to see what people mean when they start jabbering about a NEW business model.
To figure something out, I like to break it down to its essence. In business, a company sells products or services. Products, at their core, are natural resources - physical stuff like food, minerals, wood, human-made things, etc. When you buy a service, on the other hand, you are buying something intangible, albeit no less real. You're buying time (like when a maid comes and cleans your house, so you don't have to), expertise (like the computer tech who fixes your hard drive after it decides not to work), entertainment (music, movies), knowledge, and attention (you buy attention when you engage the services of an advertiser).
Back when we were a nomadic society, and even in the earliest days of agrarian culture, we "bought" things through barter. "I'll give you ten chickens for that rug." This wasn't always a convenient way to conduct business. What if the rug maker wants a pig, but all you have is chickens? Then, the bright idea of currency dawned. Money became the stand-in for anything of value. (Realize that an entire society has to buy in to this idea for it to work. If someone decides that a currency isn't worth anything, he isn't going to give you a rug for a bunch of coins.) Today, after the New Age movement, many of us think of money as a symbol of energy - the energy it takes to produce something, or the time spent earning that money.
In my estimation, this is the ultimate definition of the term "business model," which is why I'm confused when people talk about a new business model being on the horizon. The fact that we have hierarchical organizations or sole proprietorships, whether we sell in a physical location or online, whether someone works in a factory, a cubicle, or from home, or all the permutations a business can take in selling products and services, these are merely frills to the underlying scheme. Sell your goods and services and make as much money out of the deal as you can. In order to get back more than you give (profit!), you have to convince the buyer that your goods and services are worth more, or you have to cut your costs in providing that good or service.
The sources that indicate there is to be a new business model point to the internet as the source of that model. They talk about the reduction in cost of holding inventory. If the goods we buy can be held in a warehouse, or better yet, held as bits and bytes of digital data, which costs virtually nothing, the seller can make more money. Yay for the seller! But this is still no different from the basic premise of doing business. We've just learned how to bring costs down to practically zero.
The other area in which I see talk of a new business model is in the music industry. Here, people are saying that the music itself will no longer be the product. Musicians will make money through peripherals, selling concert tickets and merchandise. Honestly, how long in the history of human beings on earth have musicians actually made money on the music itself? Before the advent of recorded music and copyright laws, musicians likely made their money on the performances, so we're coming full-circle.
Even stripping it all down, the idea of the "business model" still confuses me. Is it the basis of business, or does it include the frills of how that business is conducted? I wish some bright economist could explain this to me. Then maybe I could begin to see what people mean when they start jabbering about a NEW business model.
Labels: business, chris anderson, copyright, economist, goods, i'll give you ten chickens for that rug, money, music, services, society, the long tail, wikinomics
