I am, of course, over-watching the Olympics. Without the cable, I am consigned to watching only what the big NBC wants me to see, but that seems like plenty. Every time, I rail at the ever-declining quality of the coverage, but this is the first time I've had a blog to express that. So bear with me.
First, the Opening Ceremonies. I found parts of the artistic presentation remarkable, other parts tedious. It would likely have been better if Zhang Yimou, the film director who was in charge, had directed the television coverage as well. I couldn't help but feel that we as viewers were missing things that we were supposed to see. The gushing over it, even through today, by the NBC people, both national and local, seems excessive. But it fits into a pattern that I plan to mention later in this post.
It seems quite clear that NBC has decided that people don't watch the Olympics for any numbers or results at all. The coverage of the men's gymnastics preliminaries were devoid of context, simply showing routine after routine with the (very) occasional comment that the U.S. looked good to make the top 8 teams going on to the team final. It took a quick end-of-show mention by Bob Costas to confirm that, and an almost throwaway line that two Americans qualified for the all-around and only two qualified for individual apparatus finals. It was actually a pretty disappointing performance for the U.S. team.
And the curious obsession of NBC with gymnast Raj Bhavsar, so obvious at the Olympic Trials, continued. His story is mildly interesting; he just missed making the team in 2004, came up short again in 2008, getting on the team only because Paul Hamm was injured. Realistically, however, he's the seventh or eighth best American gymnast, which is not at all unimpressive, but it hardly merits coverage that slights the young men who originally beat him out.
One has come to expect the laser-like focus on American athletes, ignoring virtually every other person except as he or she is a foil for the U.S. But it is incredibly boring to hear about a very few ("It's Michael Phelps and 7 other guys in the water...it's Phelps...Phelps is leading...there's another guy, but Phelps can beat him...Phelps...Phelps...Phelps!"). I know the production team pre-scopes all the stories they plan to cover, and everything revolves around that, but, you know what, even the most casual viewer knows that Dara Torres is 41, has a child, and is swimming well. There must be other things to talk about.
What I mentioned earlier, something that has been running throughout the coverage so far, is the gape-mouthed attitude towards China and the Chinese people. It's an amazing story to be sure, the rise of China on the world stage, but that doesn't consecrate every single person or place in the whole country. I don't remember anywhere close to this adulation being heaped upon the Italians for the 2006 Games in Turin; in fact, the Olympics might as well have been held on a stage set for all of that, so pronounced was the lack of local color. NBC, it's a country, a bunch of people - let's try to dial down the awe of this exotic land of mystery.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Readership blues
One of the reasons I regret that this blog doesn't get more traffic is that I honestly would love to get more ideas from readers. This is not just to drive more ideas for posts, though that doesn't hurt. Instead, it comes from my desire to further what I feel is one of the benefits of the new blog world (I can't bring myself to say "blogosphere") - the ability to experience differing viewpoints about my topics of interest. I like that in other blogs, at least before the discussion devolves into pointless trollism. I'd like it even more in my own blog, as I'm sure that the things I write about are interesting to me, and I do enjoy reading what others think about those things.
Even the exchanges I've had that turned out to be disagreeable have been instructive. The fellow who believes that the most important topic, bar none, is whether the economy meets the "technical" definition of a recession, and exults when he finds that it does not, well, I find that focus on what I consider the most trivial part of our economic situation most curious. But it is instructive.
Another fellow who looks at his own situation, considers it to be pretty good, and takes that to mean that everything is essentially fine for everyone else, is again very interesting to me. I don't happen to share that viewpoint, finding it questionable for the vast mass of people and for the economy as a whole, but I respect it. (To speak a little more specifically, that he has gone from a pizza delivery job to a $50/hour technical position is quite commendable. His equanimity in the face of the possibility that the new global economy could have him back delivering pizzas next year is also commendable. The implications, however, are quite strange. He can never make a commitment to a house that is anything but temporary, his kids could well lurch from school to school depending on the neighborhood he can afford that year; most vitally, for the larger economy, there is an inefficiency in having a person with skills worth $50/hour delivering pizzas, no matter how acceptable it may be to that individual.)
The best commenters, from my point of view, are those folks who essentially agree with me but add something, some nugget of fact or opinion, that I can ponder and include in my viewpoint. I've had some very good comments along those lines from Citizen Carrie; most recently I had a very thought-provoking comment on my Wednesday post from Greg. (I won't comment more specifically on that now, as I am still thinking about it and formulating my thoughts as a post for one of these days.)
So, while I am certainly grateful for those folks who do swing by and offer their thoughts from time to time, I can't help but wish there were a few more. It would be nice to see this form of "virtual conversation" expand. (And, yes, I understand the concept of "be careful what you wish for.")
Even the exchanges I've had that turned out to be disagreeable have been instructive. The fellow who believes that the most important topic, bar none, is whether the economy meets the "technical" definition of a recession, and exults when he finds that it does not, well, I find that focus on what I consider the most trivial part of our economic situation most curious. But it is instructive.
Another fellow who looks at his own situation, considers it to be pretty good, and takes that to mean that everything is essentially fine for everyone else, is again very interesting to me. I don't happen to share that viewpoint, finding it questionable for the vast mass of people and for the economy as a whole, but I respect it. (To speak a little more specifically, that he has gone from a pizza delivery job to a $50/hour technical position is quite commendable. His equanimity in the face of the possibility that the new global economy could have him back delivering pizzas next year is also commendable. The implications, however, are quite strange. He can never make a commitment to a house that is anything but temporary, his kids could well lurch from school to school depending on the neighborhood he can afford that year; most vitally, for the larger economy, there is an inefficiency in having a person with skills worth $50/hour delivering pizzas, no matter how acceptable it may be to that individual.)
The best commenters, from my point of view, are those folks who essentially agree with me but add something, some nugget of fact or opinion, that I can ponder and include in my viewpoint. I've had some very good comments along those lines from Citizen Carrie; most recently I had a very thought-provoking comment on my Wednesday post from Greg. (I won't comment more specifically on that now, as I am still thinking about it and formulating my thoughts as a post for one of these days.)
So, while I am certainly grateful for those folks who do swing by and offer their thoughts from time to time, I can't help but wish there were a few more. It would be nice to see this form of "virtual conversation" expand. (And, yes, I understand the concept of "be careful what you wish for.")
Friday, August 8, 2008
An economic parable - bonus coverage
A couple of notes about Wednesday's post, in one case a clarification, in the other an amplification.
The graphic of the growth-share matrix was borrowed from Wikipedia, but I should have made it clear that the values on the axes for market growth rate and relative market share were examples. It is not meant to imply that there is some magic cut-off at 6% growth rate. In the real world, every company would define their expectations differently.
The amplification has to do with the way that companies work today. Perhaps the most arguable part of my argument was that, rather than gratefully hanging on to cash cows, companies today are looking for ways to play up their high-growth stars. That flies in the face of the theory of this model, which contends that companies should look for a mix of all but the dogs.
I argued that the relentless short-term focus of companies, exacerbated by the easy movement of investment money and (possibly) the incentive plans of executives, has created a climate in which growth is the mantra, the unassailable goal. There is an impatience with cash cows, despite their cash generation, because they don't show the potential to be game-changers - they just aren't sexy, and they certainly don't prove a manager's acumen.
The easiest way to illustrate this is to expand on the example of segmentation by geographical areas. When the CEO comes to the VP of Sales to set targets for the coming year, it is unlikely that the conversation will focus on the maintenance of large inflows of cash. It is far more probable that the CEO will say, "Get those sales figures up by 10%."
Let's simplify the example and say that this company does business in only two markets, the U.S. and China. In the U.S., we will be amazed if the economy grows at 2% this year; many feel we could end up negative. To grow sales by 10% will require the VP to increase market share rather dramatically, which, in a mature market, is likely to be impossible.
In China, on the other hand, double-digit growth is decidedly possible. To increase sales 10% there may involve nothing more than riding the economic tide. And the Chinese market is quite immature; it is very that this company will be the first real player in whatever it's selling.
I don't want to get any more specific with the numbers - it would only blur the implications. But think of those implications. The far bigger bang for the buck is going to come from China. Hitting or exceeding your target, with concomitant bonus, is so much easier if the VP concentrates on the China market.
Take this, multiply it by hundreds or thousands of companies, and we end up with what we're seeing now. Calling this trend disturbing for the ultimate health of our economy probably understates the case.
The graphic of the growth-share matrix was borrowed from Wikipedia, but I should have made it clear that the values on the axes for market growth rate and relative market share were examples. It is not meant to imply that there is some magic cut-off at 6% growth rate. In the real world, every company would define their expectations differently.
The amplification has to do with the way that companies work today. Perhaps the most arguable part of my argument was that, rather than gratefully hanging on to cash cows, companies today are looking for ways to play up their high-growth stars. That flies in the face of the theory of this model, which contends that companies should look for a mix of all but the dogs.
I argued that the relentless short-term focus of companies, exacerbated by the easy movement of investment money and (possibly) the incentive plans of executives, has created a climate in which growth is the mantra, the unassailable goal. There is an impatience with cash cows, despite their cash generation, because they don't show the potential to be game-changers - they just aren't sexy, and they certainly don't prove a manager's acumen.
The easiest way to illustrate this is to expand on the example of segmentation by geographical areas. When the CEO comes to the VP of Sales to set targets for the coming year, it is unlikely that the conversation will focus on the maintenance of large inflows of cash. It is far more probable that the CEO will say, "Get those sales figures up by 10%."
Let's simplify the example and say that this company does business in only two markets, the U.S. and China. In the U.S., we will be amazed if the economy grows at 2% this year; many feel we could end up negative. To grow sales by 10% will require the VP to increase market share rather dramatically, which, in a mature market, is likely to be impossible.
In China, on the other hand, double-digit growth is decidedly possible. To increase sales 10% there may involve nothing more than riding the economic tide. And the Chinese market is quite immature; it is very that this company will be the first real player in whatever it's selling.
I don't want to get any more specific with the numbers - it would only blur the implications. But think of those implications. The far bigger bang for the buck is going to come from China. Hitting or exceeding your target, with concomitant bonus, is so much easier if the VP concentrates on the China market.
Take this, multiply it by hundreds or thousands of companies, and we end up with what we're seeing now. Calling this trend disturbing for the ultimate health of our economy probably understates the case.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
T. Boone's air
Kevin Drum wrote a post yesterday in which he cast some doubt on the altruism of T. Boone Pickens, oil man turned statesman (if you believe his ads). It's pretty interesting to read the extent to which Pickens is going to promote new energy technology, even more to see the complicated ways he intends to profit from it.
Kevin followed it up with a later post in which he quotes a "regular correspondent" to the effect that we need to accept that "tycoons [and] large companies" are going to drive the "alternative energy revolution," and that we'll have to accept the necessary "scandal, absurdity, and gross enrichment" if we're to get this done. Kevin's not so sure about that, but does give some credit to Pickens for "getting the ball rolling."
I won't even question, this time, whether it is wise, as a matter of public policy, to turn something so vital over to the tycoons; the reader can determine what the motives of a Pickens are (let me just point out that the motives may not include the provision of cheap energy to every single person in this country, even if such a thing is possible, not if the maximal profit comes at a different point on the curve).
I would rather look at what Kevin's correspondent regards as the tradeoff, the benefits that will be enjoyed by this country if we let the free market guys extract their gains from the process: "The tradeoff is more jobs, a young and growing domestic alternative energy market that competes with oil, keeps prices reasonable, and begins to swing the pendulum of greenhouse gas production in the other direction." (The following sentence, pledging that "we will always evaluate whether and to what extent these goals are being achieved," doesn't make a lot if sense, at least to me.)
I think the enumeration of benefits sounds really good, and one would hope that the results are along those lines. But we need to remember that it is not the goal of the tycoons to keep prices reasonable, as I alluded to above, and the whole pendulum thing seems to run afoul of the law of unintended consequences and unclear science (is corn-based ethanol better for the environment, or worse - seems the jury is still out on that question).
The most peculiar notion of the benefits of the Pickens/tycoon/large companies view of the world is that it will create more jobs. This is the canard that every presidential candidate has trotted out (at least I think McCain has, too - with him, it's hard to tell from one day to the next). It is simply not necessarily true.
The jobs question is not, will there be jobs created that we don't have now? Of course - there will be all kinds of job titles (such as Windmill Dead Bird Disposal Technician) that don't currently exist.
No, the question is, what will be the effect on net jobs? (Replacing a gasoline truck driver with a liquid hydrogen truck driver does not create a new job.) I can't answer that question definitively, but neither can anyone else right now.
And some of the rhetoric is ludicrous. The idea that manufacturing will be ramped up in order to create windmills, and wind turbines, and all the other artifacts of the new energy revolution, is flawed. The same business pressures that have moved 90% of the toy market to China will do the same for all our new energy items.
For regular readers, you will probably note that I am repeating myself, that I mentioned this topic as part of my Al Gore post a little over a week ago, or in a post of about a month ago questioning the belief in magic that so many attach to this subject, or, perhaps most eloquently, in a post from May that casts doubt on whether the beneficial effects are likely to be realized in this country.
But I don't see anyone else (not that I have the time to look really hard) questioning this line of reasoning, that a new economy will emerge from new energy. And I consider this a very dangerous assumption, especially when people in Washington are setting policy based on this. There is a very real chance that the people of the United States are going to go through very real pain in making this transition, at the end of which will stand the T. Boone Pickens' of the world, profiting from that pain. Preventing this should be a major goal of the process, but carrying wrong-headed thinking into that process is not going to help, not at all.
Kevin followed it up with a later post in which he quotes a "regular correspondent" to the effect that we need to accept that "tycoons [and] large companies" are going to drive the "alternative energy revolution," and that we'll have to accept the necessary "scandal, absurdity, and gross enrichment" if we're to get this done. Kevin's not so sure about that, but does give some credit to Pickens for "getting the ball rolling."
I won't even question, this time, whether it is wise, as a matter of public policy, to turn something so vital over to the tycoons; the reader can determine what the motives of a Pickens are (let me just point out that the motives may not include the provision of cheap energy to every single person in this country, even if such a thing is possible, not if the maximal profit comes at a different point on the curve).
I would rather look at what Kevin's correspondent regards as the tradeoff, the benefits that will be enjoyed by this country if we let the free market guys extract their gains from the process: "The tradeoff is more jobs, a young and growing domestic alternative energy market that competes with oil, keeps prices reasonable, and begins to swing the pendulum of greenhouse gas production in the other direction." (The following sentence, pledging that "we will always evaluate whether and to what extent these goals are being achieved," doesn't make a lot if sense, at least to me.)
I think the enumeration of benefits sounds really good, and one would hope that the results are along those lines. But we need to remember that it is not the goal of the tycoons to keep prices reasonable, as I alluded to above, and the whole pendulum thing seems to run afoul of the law of unintended consequences and unclear science (is corn-based ethanol better for the environment, or worse - seems the jury is still out on that question).
The most peculiar notion of the benefits of the Pickens/tycoon/large companies view of the world is that it will create more jobs. This is the canard that every presidential candidate has trotted out (at least I think McCain has, too - with him, it's hard to tell from one day to the next). It is simply not necessarily true.
The jobs question is not, will there be jobs created that we don't have now? Of course - there will be all kinds of job titles (such as Windmill Dead Bird Disposal Technician) that don't currently exist.
No, the question is, what will be the effect on net jobs? (Replacing a gasoline truck driver with a liquid hydrogen truck driver does not create a new job.) I can't answer that question definitively, but neither can anyone else right now.
And some of the rhetoric is ludicrous. The idea that manufacturing will be ramped up in order to create windmills, and wind turbines, and all the other artifacts of the new energy revolution, is flawed. The same business pressures that have moved 90% of the toy market to China will do the same for all our new energy items.
For regular readers, you will probably note that I am repeating myself, that I mentioned this topic as part of my Al Gore post a little over a week ago, or in a post of about a month ago questioning the belief in magic that so many attach to this subject, or, perhaps most eloquently, in a post from May that casts doubt on whether the beneficial effects are likely to be realized in this country.
But I don't see anyone else (not that I have the time to look really hard) questioning this line of reasoning, that a new economy will emerge from new energy. And I consider this a very dangerous assumption, especially when people in Washington are setting policy based on this. There is a very real chance that the people of the United States are going to go through very real pain in making this transition, at the end of which will stand the T. Boone Pickens' of the world, profiting from that pain. Preventing this should be a major goal of the process, but carrying wrong-headed thinking into that process is not going to help, not at all.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
An economic parable - Part 2
I continue from yesterday's post, in which I took us through a somewhat simplified scenario as to how a company, content and strong in its market, can be induced through the pressure of shareholders (and, in the real world, stock analysts) to abandon that core market for a more attractive one.
It is painfully obvious that I'm not writing about a pickle business moving from Grand Rapids to Chicago, but about the movement of the focus of many businesses from the United States to China and India. The parallels are clear, from the market of eight times the size to the attractive low-cost production. I tried to demonstrate how it might be that a company might lose its core market, whether it be Grand Rapids or the whole country:
To show why this is, I have to show a graph that has been incredibly influential in American business thought, the Boston Consulting Group growth-share matrix:
Very simply, this is a chart that's used to allocate resources. The company takes its various products (or divisions) and plots them on the matrix using market growth rate vs. relative market share. [The terms that BCG used have become lingua franca in the business world.] It identifies each of these components as stars, question marks, cash cows, or dogs.
Classic theory suggests that stock price is the present value of future cash flows, but no one believes that any more. Stock price is a matter of perception, of whether the company can outperform the market, and the time horizon, once infinite, is now amazingly short. Money moves so easily in the market that the institutional investors have to be convinced that your company is better, right now, than all possible competitors. (I will not spend time in this post talking about how corporate compensation programs have added to this pressure.)
So too many cash cows, though very lucrative, make a company's growth potential too small. Executives prefer stars and even question marks - this is the fundamental shift since the creation of the model. There is some recognition of this problem; once again, from Wikipedia:
Now it's time to link this to the larger economic picture. You would expect that, if a grocery store used this model, it might divide its business by product, comparing dairy to produce to frozen food and so on, seeing which should be emphasized in the store. A grocery store chain might use the model that way, but it could also divide the stores by geographical location.
Commonly, one would expect the model to be used by product line, so a conglomerate would compare its refrigerator business to its jet engine business, and make decisions as to retention and investment that way. But geography is at least as good a way of looking at it, and I suspect that many companies are applying the BCG model along those lines.
So let's look at world markets, at least as perceived in the executive suite. Europe is a place with a lot of competition, making market share a problem, and growth is quite uncertain. Unless an American company is already fairly well established there, any business in Europe probably falls into the question mark category (if not a full-fledged dog). Unless an executive can come up with a good reason to stay, chances are a lot of companies will not spend a lot of time and effort on Europe.
China and India are seen as potentially gargantuan in terms of growth. Any company that can establish their influence in those countries sees the future there as stars, big stars. They'll spend whatever they have to in order to gain a foothold in these huge areas, will invest massive amounts of time and money.
And the United States? Our growth rate, especially as compared to the projections for certain developing countries, is pitiful. No one projects that we're going anywhere dramatic soon; we have no burgeoning middle class to buy huge numbers of goods. The company may enjoy a solid market share today, but our relative freedom to competition makes maintenance of that share more costly than it might be elsewhere. We're the classic cash cow, and we may be approaching the end of that cycle - remember, cows can become dogs very easily. No company who looks at it this way will invest much in the U.S.
We put all this together, and we see what is happening. American companies, which fancy themselves world players, no longer see their own country as worth much. Oh, they'll take what they can out of it, milk it like the cow it is, but keep in mind that investors are looking for growth. Even the smallest move of cow to dog will prompt an abrupt departure.
And that is my prediction. I believe that, not so long from now, a major U.S. corporation will get out of the American market altogether. When you look at GM's results for this past quarter, it doesn't take a CPA to see that the North American market is dragging them down. Europe and Latin America-Africa-Middle East were profitable, Asia-Pacific contributed just a small loss, and North America represented a loss of, remarkably, $9.3 billion. It is quite possible that GM already sees North America as a dog, and it's not clear that they can afford to prop that up forever.
It isimpossible difficult to conceive of a scenario in which GM stops selling cars in America, but continues to make them in America. We remain the wage leader, so that scenario will never make sense. And with that goes all the ancillary businesses that depend, in whole or in part, on GM. Who will sponsor football games if GM leaves this market?
You can argue that there are flaws in this thinking, that China and India's growth cannot sustain itself forever, that America is still a great economic engine. But the relentless short-term horizon of today's business leaders coupled with the evaluation models and common beliefs make some aspect of this close to inevitable. And that's when we start to see serious problems, a downward spiral of economic investment that has only been hinted at so far.
It is painfully obvious that I'm not writing about a pickle business moving from Grand Rapids to Chicago, but about the movement of the focus of many businesses from the United States to China and India. The parallels are clear, from the market of eight times the size to the attractive low-cost production. I tried to demonstrate how it might be that a company might lose its core market, whether it be Grand Rapids or the whole country:
What we've done, of course, through perfectly logical and sound business practices, is to put all our eggs in the Chicago basket. If we don't ever quite make it there, we'll have no business at all. We're out, or virtually out, of the Grand Rapids market, and, since the demand for pickles is still pretty much where it was, other pickle makers will come in - there is no turning back for us.This seems like crazy behavior to a lot of people, especially when applied to the larger U.S. market. We still have a lot of money to throw around, so why would any company become so besotted with the developing countries as to neglect the U.S.?
To show why this is, I have to show a graph that has been incredibly influential in American business thought, the Boston Consulting Group growth-share matrix:
[Wikipedia image at the link above]
To properly explain its importance is extremely difficult; if you haven't seen this before, rest assured everyone at the upper reaches of your employer has. There have been other models that have tried to compete with this simple, 30-year-old concept, but this stands head-and-shoulders above, despite most people's simplistic understanding of it. It has been misused and misinterpreted (as you can read at the link), but it is regarded as gospel by a surprising number of companies and their executives.Very simply, this is a chart that's used to allocate resources. The company takes its various products (or divisions) and plots them on the matrix using market growth rate vs. relative market share. [The terms that BCG used have become lingua franca in the business world.] It identifies each of these components as stars, question marks, cash cows, or dogs.
- Dogs are those components for which there is low growth and low market share; there is nothing good that can be done with them, and they should be eliminated. When GE looks to sell its refrigerator unit, it's because they've decided that the market is mature, implying that growth will be low, and that their market share is too small.
- Question marks are those for which growth is high, but share is low. These are the ones that require the most management attention, because the growth implies that a lot of resources will be needed, but it will be in the service of little business. These are the ones that will be culled; the company gets rid of the ones that will never work. The rest will get an infusion of money and time to grow market share, the intent being to make stars.
- Stars are high growth and high share. These will require large amounts of resources, but they can be worth it if they can become cash cows; those resources are needed, however, to stave off a drop in market share that would move stars to dog-dom.
- Cash cows are low growth and high market share units. They don't require a lot of resources, just enough to maintain their share, but they generate a lot of cash.
Classic theory suggests that stock price is the present value of future cash flows, but no one believes that any more. Stock price is a matter of perception, of whether the company can outperform the market, and the time horizon, once infinite, is now amazingly short. Money moves so easily in the market that the institutional investors have to be convinced that your company is better, right now, than all possible competitors. (I will not spend time in this post talking about how corporate compensation programs have added to this pressure.)
So too many cash cows, though very lucrative, make a company's growth potential too small. Executives prefer stars and even question marks - this is the fundamental shift since the creation of the model. There is some recognition of this problem; once again, from Wikipedia:
Perhaps the worst implication of the later developments is that the (brand leader) cash bulls should be milked to fund new brands. This is not what research into the FMCG markets has shown to be the case. The brand leader's position is the one, above all, to be defended, not least since brands in this position will probably outperform any number of newly launched brands. Such brand leaders will, of course, generate large cash flows; but they should not be 'milked' to such an extent that their position is jeopardized. In any case, the chance of the new brands achieving similar brand leadership may be slim—certainly far less than the popular perception of the Boston Matrix would imply.Again, I cannot stress enough how few people, in actual practice, understand the above paragraph. The push for "stars" is overwhelming, while the cash cows exist merely to throw off cash, and they're subject to being discarded as soon as the stars generate their own cash.
Now it's time to link this to the larger economic picture. You would expect that, if a grocery store used this model, it might divide its business by product, comparing dairy to produce to frozen food and so on, seeing which should be emphasized in the store. A grocery store chain might use the model that way, but it could also divide the stores by geographical location.
Commonly, one would expect the model to be used by product line, so a conglomerate would compare its refrigerator business to its jet engine business, and make decisions as to retention and investment that way. But geography is at least as good a way of looking at it, and I suspect that many companies are applying the BCG model along those lines.
So let's look at world markets, at least as perceived in the executive suite. Europe is a place with a lot of competition, making market share a problem, and growth is quite uncertain. Unless an American company is already fairly well established there, any business in Europe probably falls into the question mark category (if not a full-fledged dog). Unless an executive can come up with a good reason to stay, chances are a lot of companies will not spend a lot of time and effort on Europe.
China and India are seen as potentially gargantuan in terms of growth. Any company that can establish their influence in those countries sees the future there as stars, big stars. They'll spend whatever they have to in order to gain a foothold in these huge areas, will invest massive amounts of time and money.
And the United States? Our growth rate, especially as compared to the projections for certain developing countries, is pitiful. No one projects that we're going anywhere dramatic soon; we have no burgeoning middle class to buy huge numbers of goods. The company may enjoy a solid market share today, but our relative freedom to competition makes maintenance of that share more costly than it might be elsewhere. We're the classic cash cow, and we may be approaching the end of that cycle - remember, cows can become dogs very easily. No company who looks at it this way will invest much in the U.S.
We put all this together, and we see what is happening. American companies, which fancy themselves world players, no longer see their own country as worth much. Oh, they'll take what they can out of it, milk it like the cow it is, but keep in mind that investors are looking for growth. Even the smallest move of cow to dog will prompt an abrupt departure.
And that is my prediction. I believe that, not so long from now, a major U.S. corporation will get out of the American market altogether. When you look at GM's results for this past quarter, it doesn't take a CPA to see that the North American market is dragging them down. Europe and Latin America-Africa-Middle East were profitable, Asia-Pacific contributed just a small loss, and North America represented a loss of, remarkably, $9.3 billion. It is quite possible that GM already sees North America as a dog, and it's not clear that they can afford to prop that up forever.
It is
You can argue that there are flaws in this thinking, that China and India's growth cannot sustain itself forever, that America is still a great economic engine. But the relentless short-term horizon of today's business leaders coupled with the evaluation models and common beliefs make some aspect of this close to inevitable. And that's when we start to see serious problems, a downward spiral of economic investment that has only been hinted at so far.
Remembering Jack
Today is the tenth anniversary of the death of the great broadcaster, Jack Brickhouse. I say "broadcaster" rather than "baseball broadcaster" because, while Jack was best known for broadcasting the Chicago Cubs, he was one of those early-television guys who came in from radio and did everything. These are the people, of whom far too few are left, who built today's on-camera look and feel. They were pioneers in a medium that we can all agree is important and pervasive.
More personally, as a guy who grew up without a dad (it might not have made much difference; my father was apparently not much of a fan), I learned baseball from Jack Brickhouse. The Cubs played all day games at home, so Jack was on WGN when I came home from school or was inside during the summer. I don't know that Jack was a master of the nuances of the game, but he was able to convey, to a young fellow of seven or eight years old, just how special and fun and rewarding the game could be.
Unfortunately, in his later years, Jack was pushed aside in favor of the more bombastic style of Harry Caray, who seemed, rightly or wrongly, to convey the message that a baseball game was an excuse for having a good time (preferably with a beer in one hand and a blonde in the other). Jack was seen as old-school, maybe boring, certainly not the revenue generator that was the relentlessly commercial Caray.
But, to me, Jack was the uncle who takes you to the game, tells you old stories about people you've never heard of (but builds bridges to the history of the national pastime), loves and respects the game and teaches you to do the same. I had the pleasure of meeting Jack Brickhouse once, very briefly, and he embodied the word "gentleman." Today's broadcasters, who barely seem to fit the game in around promotional announcements and rock group worship, could learn a lot from this very professional broadcaster. I miss you, Jack, and I thank you for my lifetime of enjoyment from the great game of baseball.
More personally, as a guy who grew up without a dad (it might not have made much difference; my father was apparently not much of a fan), I learned baseball from Jack Brickhouse. The Cubs played all day games at home, so Jack was on WGN when I came home from school or was inside during the summer. I don't know that Jack was a master of the nuances of the game, but he was able to convey, to a young fellow of seven or eight years old, just how special and fun and rewarding the game could be.
Unfortunately, in his later years, Jack was pushed aside in favor of the more bombastic style of Harry Caray, who seemed, rightly or wrongly, to convey the message that a baseball game was an excuse for having a good time (preferably with a beer in one hand and a blonde in the other). Jack was seen as old-school, maybe boring, certainly not the revenue generator that was the relentlessly commercial Caray.
But, to me, Jack was the uncle who takes you to the game, tells you old stories about people you've never heard of (but builds bridges to the history of the national pastime), loves and respects the game and teaches you to do the same. I had the pleasure of meeting Jack Brickhouse once, very briefly, and he embodied the word "gentleman." Today's broadcasters, who barely seem to fit the game in around promotional announcements and rock group worship, could learn a lot from this very professional broadcaster. I miss you, Jack, and I thank you for my lifetime of enjoyment from the great game of baseball.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
An economic parable - Part 1
Let's say that I own a pickle factory in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I make good pickles, and I've developed a real following. No one in Grand Rapids would think of having a serious event without my pickles; they might buy a Vlasic for a casual barbecue if the price is right, but the Andro pickle is the only one people will go out of their way to get.
I could sell my pickles and make a solid living forever. Competitors might arise, come up with a clever advertising campaign, take away some of my business for a while, but I'm focused, I know my Grand Rapidians, and I always seem to get that business back.
But I am not the only owner of my company. My dad, who founded the company, couldn't finance it all himself, so he got friends and acquaintances to chip in - I only own 30%. So, despite the fact that Andro Pickles has made money every year of its existence, it hasn't exactly been growth like the early days of Microsoft, and some of the investors are impatient. They think I'm mired in old ways of doing business, that we could be expanding and making more money and on and on.
Again, I'm pretty content with the way things are, I have a nice house and a comfortable life. My house could be bigger, and I could have enough to ensure the prosperity and ease of my grandchildren, but that's just not very important. I make my pickles, I sell my pickles, and I'm happy.
But what to do with those investors, especially as they start to suggest that maybe the board needs to install new management, MBAs who will maximize their return? OK, I'll get my own MBAs, a management consulting firm, and they'll give me some ideas. I'm secretly hoping that they'll give me a thick document which will essentially confirm that I'm already on the right track (I don't really understand how management consulting firms work, obviously). At worst, they'll suggest a few tweaks, but they'll keep the investors quiet and let me get back to my pickles.
Much to my surprise, but probably not yours, the consultants come back a few months later (and seven figures richer) with a set of recommendations that boil down to, expand your markets - and the market they've focused on is...Chicago.
Chicago is nearby, it's without a dominant pickle manufacturer, and it's a whole lot bigger. If I could eke out even a quarter of the market share I have in Grand Rapids, I would be making an incredible amount of money. The projections in the consultant's report are astounding, and quite seductive to my fellow investors (is it just coincidence that the consultant has a big business development practice in Chicago? - no time to ponder that now).
So the decision is made, we're off to Chicago, and riches await. At first, I figure, this can only be a boon to Grand Rapids. We'll ramp up production, offering more great pickle jobs to the people of this city that helped build my business, and we'll have a win-win.
But, it turns out, we can't do that. We charge a premium price for our pickles in Grand Rapids because we've built a reputation; having done so, we have been generous with our employees, with relatively high salaries and benefits. To get into the Chicago market, however, we're going to have to cut our prices dramatically, at least at first, so we'll have to take advantage of the lower pickle worker costs there (they have very few extant pickle workers, and so we can lowball them, and give few or no benefits).
Still, no problem. The Grand Rapids part of the business is humming along, same as before, and I can focus my efforts on the tough but potentially lucrative Chicago market. It's hard at first, takes the vast majority of my time and energy, but there are so many people there - I can't afford not to make this work.
And our brand spanking new pickle plant in Chicago, it's so efficient compared to the clunky old one in Grand Rapids. We see economies of scale, we see lower labor costs, we even can bargain suppliers down in their prices because we're doing do much business. Oh, the market share reality is lagging behind the projection; it's a little harder breaking into Chicago than we (the management consultants) anticipated, but, again, there are so many people.
Because we're not ramping up in Chicago quite as fast as planned, our profits are not quite what the investors anticipated. Obviously we're doing everything possible on the revenue side, so we need to cut costs.
One day, someone has the brightest idea of all. Let's close the old inefficient high-cost Grand Rapids plant, add a bit more production in the Chicago plant, and ship the pickles the 180 miles. Sure, they'll be a bunch of people in Grand Rapids who will be upset, it may even hurt our sales there. But, so what, Chicago is so big that one big sale to a supermarket chain will make that up in no time.
But look at what's really happening. If sales in Grand Rapids fall far enough, and we have hastened that by getting rid of some pretty well-paying jobs (Grand Rapidians no longer have the extra money for premium pickles), the market stops making sense for us altogether. That's especially true if we see even a small jump in the cost of transporting those pickles back; we have a high-cost item with declining market share, and the numbers really don't work for us to care about that tiny market, not when we have the whole vast Chicago area in which to sell pickles.
What we've done, of course, through perfectly logical and sound business practices, is to put all our eggs in the Chicago basket. If we don't ever quite make it there, we'll have no business at all. We're out, or virtually out, of the Grand Rapids market, and, since the demand for pickles is still pretty much where it was, other pickle makers will come in - there is no turning back for us.
This parable has become a fairly obvious metaphor, but I'll have more to say about it as a business model in Part 2.
I could sell my pickles and make a solid living forever. Competitors might arise, come up with a clever advertising campaign, take away some of my business for a while, but I'm focused, I know my Grand Rapidians, and I always seem to get that business back.
But I am not the only owner of my company. My dad, who founded the company, couldn't finance it all himself, so he got friends and acquaintances to chip in - I only own 30%. So, despite the fact that Andro Pickles has made money every year of its existence, it hasn't exactly been growth like the early days of Microsoft, and some of the investors are impatient. They think I'm mired in old ways of doing business, that we could be expanding and making more money and on and on.
Again, I'm pretty content with the way things are, I have a nice house and a comfortable life. My house could be bigger, and I could have enough to ensure the prosperity and ease of my grandchildren, but that's just not very important. I make my pickles, I sell my pickles, and I'm happy.
But what to do with those investors, especially as they start to suggest that maybe the board needs to install new management, MBAs who will maximize their return? OK, I'll get my own MBAs, a management consulting firm, and they'll give me some ideas. I'm secretly hoping that they'll give me a thick document which will essentially confirm that I'm already on the right track (I don't really understand how management consulting firms work, obviously). At worst, they'll suggest a few tweaks, but they'll keep the investors quiet and let me get back to my pickles.
Much to my surprise, but probably not yours, the consultants come back a few months later (and seven figures richer) with a set of recommendations that boil down to, expand your markets - and the market they've focused on is...Chicago.
Chicago is nearby, it's without a dominant pickle manufacturer, and it's a whole lot bigger. If I could eke out even a quarter of the market share I have in Grand Rapids, I would be making an incredible amount of money. The projections in the consultant's report are astounding, and quite seductive to my fellow investors (is it just coincidence that the consultant has a big business development practice in Chicago? - no time to ponder that now).
So the decision is made, we're off to Chicago, and riches await. At first, I figure, this can only be a boon to Grand Rapids. We'll ramp up production, offering more great pickle jobs to the people of this city that helped build my business, and we'll have a win-win.
But, it turns out, we can't do that. We charge a premium price for our pickles in Grand Rapids because we've built a reputation; having done so, we have been generous with our employees, with relatively high salaries and benefits. To get into the Chicago market, however, we're going to have to cut our prices dramatically, at least at first, so we'll have to take advantage of the lower pickle worker costs there (they have very few extant pickle workers, and so we can lowball them, and give few or no benefits).
Still, no problem. The Grand Rapids part of the business is humming along, same as before, and I can focus my efforts on the tough but potentially lucrative Chicago market. It's hard at first, takes the vast majority of my time and energy, but there are so many people there - I can't afford not to make this work.
And our brand spanking new pickle plant in Chicago, it's so efficient compared to the clunky old one in Grand Rapids. We see economies of scale, we see lower labor costs, we even can bargain suppliers down in their prices because we're doing do much business. Oh, the market share reality is lagging behind the projection; it's a little harder breaking into Chicago than we (the management consultants) anticipated, but, again, there are so many people.
Because we're not ramping up in Chicago quite as fast as planned, our profits are not quite what the investors anticipated. Obviously we're doing everything possible on the revenue side, so we need to cut costs.
One day, someone has the brightest idea of all. Let's close the old inefficient high-cost Grand Rapids plant, add a bit more production in the Chicago plant, and ship the pickles the 180 miles. Sure, they'll be a bunch of people in Grand Rapids who will be upset, it may even hurt our sales there. But, so what, Chicago is so big that one big sale to a supermarket chain will make that up in no time.
But look at what's really happening. If sales in Grand Rapids fall far enough, and we have hastened that by getting rid of some pretty well-paying jobs (Grand Rapidians no longer have the extra money for premium pickles), the market stops making sense for us altogether. That's especially true if we see even a small jump in the cost of transporting those pickles back; we have a high-cost item with declining market share, and the numbers really don't work for us to care about that tiny market, not when we have the whole vast Chicago area in which to sell pickles.
What we've done, of course, through perfectly logical and sound business practices, is to put all our eggs in the Chicago basket. If we don't ever quite make it there, we'll have no business at all. We're out, or virtually out, of the Grand Rapids market, and, since the demand for pickles is still pretty much where it was, other pickle makers will come in - there is no turning back for us.
This parable has become a fairly obvious metaphor, but I'll have more to say about it as a business model in Part 2.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Late to the party
I fall too far behind my reading sometimes, even for my favorites. So, six days late, I highly recommend Citizen Carrie's The Message Behind the Message. It's the typical Carrie blend of passionate writing and deconstruction of, this time, an article from The Economist with links to all sorts of things you should read. If I quote any, I'll quote all, so I'll just pick:
How did we jump from the richest 1% getting 11% annual income growth to us blaming trade because the remaining 99% of us plebians are getting less than 1% income growth? Could The Economist have forgotten the part about how, in the search for the lowest costs possible, whole industries are being shipped overseas along with the associated blue collar and manufacturing engineering jobs? Did the authors think of how many seemingly safe information technology, engineering, legal, accounting, financing, journalistic etc. jobs are also heading overseas? And employees for the jobs that are remaining here in the U.S. are facing competition from both illegal and legal guest workers and immigrants who are imported to do the jobs Americans supposedly won't do? And many of the high-skilled jobs performed by H-1B guest-workers are exported out of the country for good after the guest-workers have been sufficiently trained? And the consequence of all of these events is to bring down our wages?
An explanatory note
You may have noticed, if you're a regular reader, that I haven't done much posting about politics lately. I was quite involved in the Democratic primary, but, since that was decided, I haven't had much to say.
It is not that I am not following what's going on, but, frankly, I'm pretty disgusted by both sides right now. The seeming purity of the Obama campaign, which I admired for its intent even as I disagreed with a small number of its specifics, has given way to a Clinton-esque lean to the center, a position which is insupportable. The poorly-thought out urge to move troops to Afghanistan, the "willingness to compromise" on economic issues, these don't strike me as necessary for vote-getting as much as they are incoherent.
The McCain campaign is, remarkably, worse. Obama doesn't need to cast doubts on the McCain message as long as McCain has his embarrassing surrogates out there, from Whinin' Phil Gramm to Carly "I'm a businesswoman - a bad businesswoman" Fiorina to Joe Lieberman ("I've been to Iraq with John McCain, seen the morning dew on his weathered brow as he stands in the sunlight, firm, resolute, right on all the issues - and oh, so sexy"). The McCain message is, seemingly, that he can embody contradictory beliefs in one amazing package; "I don't agree with George Bush on anything, except for the policies that are most important to the American people - on those I agree with him 100% - except when I don't - but tomorrow I'll tell you I do."
I desperately hope one or more of these campaigns pull it together around convention time, as I'm growing more revolted by both by the day.
It is not that I am not following what's going on, but, frankly, I'm pretty disgusted by both sides right now. The seeming purity of the Obama campaign, which I admired for its intent even as I disagreed with a small number of its specifics, has given way to a Clinton-esque lean to the center, a position which is insupportable. The poorly-thought out urge to move troops to Afghanistan, the "willingness to compromise" on economic issues, these don't strike me as necessary for vote-getting as much as they are incoherent.
The McCain campaign is, remarkably, worse. Obama doesn't need to cast doubts on the McCain message as long as McCain has his embarrassing surrogates out there, from Whinin' Phil Gramm to Carly "I'm a businesswoman - a bad businesswoman" Fiorina to Joe Lieberman ("I've been to Iraq with John McCain, seen the morning dew on his weathered brow as he stands in the sunlight, firm, resolute, right on all the issues - and oh, so sexy"). The McCain message is, seemingly, that he can embody contradictory beliefs in one amazing package; "I don't agree with George Bush on anything, except for the policies that are most important to the American people - on those I agree with him 100% - except when I don't - but tomorrow I'll tell you I do."
I desperately hope one or more of these campaigns pull it together around convention time, as I'm growing more revolted by both by the day.
A moment in TIME
I will probably take a closer look at TIME magazine's "Special Report" on "The Economy" later in the week (if I can stop laughing about the idea that Henry Paulson is the only thing standing between us and destruction - maybe he'll even have to work a few weekends). My laughter mixes with disgust that TIME gives their idol Bill Gates, the ultimate SHAGH, six pages (well, one is a huge picture of Father Bill, suitable for framing) to spout off about a new method of capitalism.
Today I just want to mention something that is awe-inspiringly insulting, and it's right on the cover. One of the stories is tagged, "Michigan's blues and why they could decide the election." The story inside is titled simply, "Michigan Blues." (It's conceivable that this story is about umpires in Michigan; alas, it's not.)
The story itself does mention the very real economic challenges that Michigan is facing, challenges that have no obvious solutions. But the title is indicative, I think. The impression is that Michigan is suffering from a case of the blues, that it is a state that feels down, depressed.
How is this different from Phil Gramm's "mental recession," "nation of whiners" diatribe? As long as the media persists in giving the impression that economic troubles are largely a function of attitude, the door is left open for the nimrods who insist that there are no problems, that we just need to continue enriching the oil companies and flocking to the docks to wave goodbye to our jobs and educating our kids for careers that no one will pay anything for.
TIME, it's not "blues" when you lose your house, or your career, or your savings. It's not "blues" when you have done everything right, earned the proper degrees, worked hard, only to lose everything in a massive experiment which consists of seeing if rich people can remain rich in an increasingly poor country. It's not "blues" at all, it's pain, and it's doubt, and it's uncertainty, and it's fear. It may seem like an abstract numbers game to you, media nabobs, but it's real Americans enduring real agony, and we don't appreciate it being passed off as "one of our little spells."
Today I just want to mention something that is awe-inspiringly insulting, and it's right on the cover. One of the stories is tagged, "Michigan's blues and why they could decide the election." The story inside is titled simply, "Michigan Blues." (It's conceivable that this story is about umpires in Michigan; alas, it's not.)
The story itself does mention the very real economic challenges that Michigan is facing, challenges that have no obvious solutions. But the title is indicative, I think. The impression is that Michigan is suffering from a case of the blues, that it is a state that feels down, depressed.
How is this different from Phil Gramm's "mental recession," "nation of whiners" diatribe? As long as the media persists in giving the impression that economic troubles are largely a function of attitude, the door is left open for the nimrods who insist that there are no problems, that we just need to continue enriching the oil companies and flocking to the docks to wave goodbye to our jobs and educating our kids for careers that no one will pay anything for.
TIME, it's not "blues" when you lose your house, or your career, or your savings. It's not "blues" when you have done everything right, earned the proper degrees, worked hard, only to lose everything in a massive experiment which consists of seeing if rich people can remain rich in an increasingly poor country. It's not "blues" at all, it's pain, and it's doubt, and it's uncertainty, and it's fear. It may seem like an abstract numbers game to you, media nabobs, but it's real Americans enduring real agony, and we don't appreciate it being passed off as "one of our little spells."
And Tom Brokaw is...Batman!
I truly do not want this to become a celebrity-type blog, despite some of my frivolous Sunday posts. And I am certainly not one to pass judgment on someone's looks (at least not too publicly), lest that attention be turned back to me - and I am no one's idea of a hunk (despite my Fabio-esque hair).
To be truthful, I haven't the ability to be very entertaining about such things either. There are sites (Go Fug Yourself being among them) that do this sort of thing far better than I ever could, and I happily leave that level of snarkitude to them.
However, when someone makes a choice that undercuts their message, it can be worth a comment. If Joe Lieberman were to appear on Meet the Press in a clown suit, it's a choice he's made, and one that would undoubtedly take away from whatever point he was there to make (which, yesterday, was that John McCain is a real he-man dreamboat, but let's not get sidetracked here).
This issue is complicated these days by gender politics, see the controversy over the mentioning of Hillary Clinton's cleavage. Some regarded what these days is a fairly modest outfit as inappropriate if Senator Clinton wants to come off as sober and statesmanlike ("we never saw Estes Kefauver's cleavage, for heaven's sake"), then were attacked by those who thought it inappropriate to comment on such a thing, that it was an attempt to diminish Hillary as a person.
I don't know about all that; it seems to me that there is a limit point somewhere, that Nancy Pelosi should not wear her Hanes for Her and nothing else on the Senate floor (no matter how fetching it may appear on JLH), but I hope I'm evenhanded. I never wanted to see Denny Hastert in a thong, either. But I can't identify for you exactly where that line is for me, and, therefore, can't tell you where you should draw that line.
All that said, Andrea Mitchell needs to stop having plastic surgery, right now! I'm sure that a goodly number of on-camera people, men and women, have had work done, which probably does mean that we focus way too much on the external. But it's a tough business, always looking for the fresh face, even if it's a fresh face on the same old person, and I understand why media people go under the knife.
However, Mitchell has done things to herself that are unnatural, and to me at least, interfere with what she's saying. I remember her as a hard-nosed, if mousy, reporter who impressed with her reporting skills and her smarts. Now she at 61 seems to be shooting for glamor girl, and it's just not working.
What I saw yesterday on Meet the Press wasn't a top political reporter and analyst, but the Joker from the Batman movies. I couldn't find a screen cap, but take my word for it, the way the ends of her mouth unnaturally turn up and the overdone makeup reminded me of nothing so much as Heath Ledger.
If all of that really is a response to what the audience wants, then we have a problem. If it's an attempt to make husband Alan Greenspan look even older in comparison, then their marriage has a problem. Whatever the reason, it needs to stop - maybe Barbara Walters will retire and Andrea can inherit the hair spray and gauze (or the star filter or whatever Barbara uses - after all, she got it from Lucille Ball).
To be truthful, I haven't the ability to be very entertaining about such things either. There are sites (Go Fug Yourself being among them) that do this sort of thing far better than I ever could, and I happily leave that level of snarkitude to them.
However, when someone makes a choice that undercuts their message, it can be worth a comment. If Joe Lieberman were to appear on Meet the Press in a clown suit, it's a choice he's made, and one that would undoubtedly take away from whatever point he was there to make (which, yesterday, was that John McCain is a real he-man dreamboat, but let's not get sidetracked here).
This issue is complicated these days by gender politics, see the controversy over the mentioning of Hillary Clinton's cleavage. Some regarded what these days is a fairly modest outfit as inappropriate if Senator Clinton wants to come off as sober and statesmanlike ("we never saw Estes Kefauver's cleavage, for heaven's sake"), then were attacked by those who thought it inappropriate to comment on such a thing, that it was an attempt to diminish Hillary as a person.
I don't know about all that; it seems to me that there is a limit point somewhere, that Nancy Pelosi should not wear her Hanes for Her and nothing else on the Senate floor (no matter how fetching it may appear on JLH), but I hope I'm evenhanded. I never wanted to see Denny Hastert in a thong, either. But I can't identify for you exactly where that line is for me, and, therefore, can't tell you where you should draw that line.
All that said, Andrea Mitchell needs to stop having plastic surgery, right now! I'm sure that a goodly number of on-camera people, men and women, have had work done, which probably does mean that we focus way too much on the external. But it's a tough business, always looking for the fresh face, even if it's a fresh face on the same old person, and I understand why media people go under the knife.
However, Mitchell has done things to herself that are unnatural, and to me at least, interfere with what she's saying. I remember her as a hard-nosed, if mousy, reporter who impressed with her reporting skills and her smarts. Now she at 61 seems to be shooting for glamor girl, and it's just not working.
What I saw yesterday on Meet the Press wasn't a top political reporter and analyst, but the Joker from the Batman movies. I couldn't find a screen cap, but take my word for it, the way the ends of her mouth unnaturally turn up and the overdone makeup reminded me of nothing so much as Heath Ledger.
If all of that really is a response to what the audience wants, then we have a problem. If it's an attempt to make husband Alan Greenspan look even older in comparison, then their marriage has a problem. Whatever the reason, it needs to stop - maybe Barbara Walters will retire and Andrea can inherit the hair spray and gauze (or the star filter or whatever Barbara uses - after all, she got it from Lucille Ball).
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Akon featuring Akon with a little help from his friend Akon
In embarrassing news from the music community, Akon's record label admitted today that he inadvertently did a guest vocal on his own new single. Said spokesman Dexter House:
[OK, none of the foregoing is true, but I didn't want to wait until April 1st.]
Timbaland was up on the mixing board, but apparently he turned away for just a couple of minutes to record a new opening to the remix version of Madonna's "4 Minutes" ("I'm outta time and all I got is 8 minutes, got is 8 minutes, hey"). At just that moment, Akon was shuttled into yet another recording studio, he does about 12 a night, handed a music sheet, and told to get to it. By the time Timbaland turned around, Akon was gone. Nobody knew that he had done a track on his own song.It is unknown how this mishap might affect sales, but industry insiders surmise that it might start a trend of performers actually working on their own records. Others pooh-pooh that idea, claiming that the guest appearance is a vital part of the industry: "We can't have Young Jeezy just wandering the streets, not when there are guest raps to do."
[OK, none of the foregoing is true, but I didn't want to wait until April 1st.]
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Real solutions for real problems
Exxon Mobil, as has been well-chronicled, just had the largest quarterly profit ever recorded, $11.68 billion. Now you'll probably think that I'll come up with some criticism of this, maybe deconstruct the self-serving comments of company spokespeople who insist that they need "the profits to search for more oil and gas," and Congress needs to get on board with their needs. I could do this, but a lot of other people have already pointed out the remarkable coincidence that high prices and high profits seem to go hand in hand, that the consumers are bearing the pain while the corporate executives are lining up higher salaries and bonuses for themselves.
At the same time, General Motors has seen a massive loss of $15.5 billion, most of which comes from the troublesome North America market. There is the usual litany of reasons, none of them attributable to really lousy management, of course. But I won't kick a great American company while it's down.
Instead, today I offer a solution - the merger of Exxon Mobil with GM. You'd still have a loss, but it would be a lot less. The laid-off auto workers could be sent to work in the new oil fields and platforms. Exxon, with its enviable commitment to R&D, could lend some of that entrepreneurial energy to GM. And imagine the new incentive programs. Throw in 50 fill-ups with a purchase of a new car, all at Mobil stations. Great synergy.
And best of all, I present this idea at the same time that I promise to undercut any investment banking merger and acquisition fee, I only want 0.5% of the value of the merger.
At the same time, General Motors has seen a massive loss of $15.5 billion, most of which comes from the troublesome North America market. There is the usual litany of reasons, none of them attributable to really lousy management, of course. But I won't kick a great American company while it's down.
Instead, today I offer a solution - the merger of Exxon Mobil with GM. You'd still have a loss, but it would be a lot less. The laid-off auto workers could be sent to work in the new oil fields and platforms. Exxon, with its enviable commitment to R&D, could lend some of that entrepreneurial energy to GM. And imagine the new incentive programs. Throw in 50 fill-ups with a purchase of a new car, all at Mobil stations. Great synergy.
And best of all, I present this idea at the same time that I promise to undercut any investment banking merger and acquisition fee, I only want 0.5% of the value of the merger.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Polls apart
There has been some discussion the last couple of days about the reluctance of mainstream media outlets to publish the results of automated polls, despite their fairly solid track record (in particular, SurveyUSA seems to do a pretty good job). The Numbers Guy at the Wall Street Journal has a post and a print column about this, on the reluctance of existing pollsters and the MSM to embrace results generated by interactive voice response (IVR) systems. For example, a CEO for an existing face-to-face polling company said: “While other firms do use IVR polling and claim great success, Strategic Vision believes that nothing can replace a live caller. The live caller can detect nuances in answers, can better screen for age, and have interaction with the interviewee.”
Now, in general, I'm not a big fan of IVR systems, given their comprehension problems and sometimes laborious navigation, I'm not certain they have a huge disadvantage in the world of polling. My story: When I was about 20, a pollster came to the door of the family manse and started asking questions of my mom. After about five minutes, Mother lost interest in the whole thing, called me down to the living room, and had me finish the 30 minutes of questioning. So, please, don't try to tell me that the live caller or visitor can necessarily do anything better (and are these callers really trained to properly "detect nuances in answers"? Sounds like an invitation to inaccuracy to me.).
Now, in general, I'm not a big fan of IVR systems, given their comprehension problems and sometimes laborious navigation, I'm not certain they have a huge disadvantage in the world of polling. My story: When I was about 20, a pollster came to the door of the family manse and started asking questions of my mom. After about five minutes, Mother lost interest in the whole thing, called me down to the living room, and had me finish the 30 minutes of questioning. So, please, don't try to tell me that the live caller or visitor can necessarily do anything better (and are these callers really trained to properly "detect nuances in answers"? Sounds like an invitation to inaccuracy to me.).
Not living up to his potential
[Of necessity, short posting today. I'm still reeling from Citizen Carrie being marked as a spam blog by the benevolent algorithms of Google. While she was down and back up all in the time I was logged off, it was still a shock. If she can be tagged as having "irrelevant, repetitive, or nonsensical text," what hope is there for the rest of us?]
I'm going to wander into the recession thicket once again. I do so with trepidation, as it is likely that the ORSA (Optimized Recession Search Agent) employed by sbvor will bring him back to my site to engage in endless parsing of the "official" definition of a recession. Actually, he seems to have moved on to a better class of blog, so I may be safe this time.
At any rate, Kevin Drum at Political Animal writes today about how we may actually be in a recession:
There has been a lot written and said as to whether we're actually in a recession. I don't believe that question is the most important; the NBER still doesn't seem sure whether we had one six years ago, so it's difficult to care. There are no relief measures that kick in when a recession is officially declared, so it doesn't really matter.
Perhaps we're asking ourselves the wrong question in the first place. Most of the recession speculation takes GDP (Gross Domestic Product) as the proxy for the health of the economy. There are massive problems with this metric, most significantly that a change in the underlying structure of the economy can change the assumptions that are used to evaluate it.
How many people remember Cesar Cedeno? He was a baseball player who came up with the Houston Astros in the early 1970s, and was thought to have remarkable potential (his manager, Leo Durocher, compared him with Willie Mays). And he had a fine career, as can be seen here. But it was never quite what is was supposed to be, his great seasons pretty much over by the time he was 25. He had injury problems, and an incident in which his girlfriend was killed seemed to take its toll.
The site at Baseball Reference to which I linked above shows a Bill James statistic, Similarity Score, which evaluates each player as to how similar their statistics were to other ballplayers. Looking at Cedeno by age, he starts out being similar to Vada Pinson, a great player who also peaked early. Cedeno from 27 to 29 is most similar to Hall of Famer Carl Yastrzemski; after that, it becomes Johnny Damon, and finishes with Amos Otis. Cedeno was no slouch, but he was no Willie Mays, and there are still many who see him as a big disappointment given his talent.
And maybe we need to start looking at the economy that way. Not, how is it doing?, but, How should it be doing? I'm the first person to say that we still have amazing strengths, a well-educated workforce with an entrepreneurial bent, piles of existing intellectual capital, a regulatory framework that offers some protection to creators and workers alike, and an openness to new ideas and structures that dwarf what the rest of the world has. (And, yes, I well recognize that many of those things have been compromised, I write about that all the time, but we haven't given up all the good stiff yet.)
So what do we do? We take a seriously flawed measure, take even a slight increase as evidence that we're not in an "officially-declared" recession, and feel better. But we should be looking at how this economy should be doing. Why are we comfortable with tiny increments to GDP, when we should be charging ahead like a team of horses? Instead of looking at crude aggregates, someone should develop an underperformance index, and we should be able to see just how our policies and practices are getting in the way of making the best life for everyone.
I'm going to wander into the recession thicket once again. I do so with trepidation, as it is likely that the ORSA (Optimized Recession Search Agent) employed by sbvor will bring him back to my site to engage in endless parsing of the "official" definition of a recession. Actually, he seems to have moved on to a better class of blog, so I may be safe this time.
At any rate, Kevin Drum at Political Animal writes today about how we may actually be in a recession:
It may not be the worst or deepest recession we've ever seen, but I'll bet it's going to last longer than your average downturn.Most of his post quotes Brad DeLong on how the employment numbers are even worse when we look at the U-6 measure of unemployment, the one that actually tries to take into account part-time and "marginally-attached" workers.
There has been a lot written and said as to whether we're actually in a recession. I don't believe that question is the most important; the NBER still doesn't seem sure whether we had one six years ago, so it's difficult to care. There are no relief measures that kick in when a recession is officially declared, so it doesn't really matter.
Perhaps we're asking ourselves the wrong question in the first place. Most of the recession speculation takes GDP (Gross Domestic Product) as the proxy for the health of the economy. There are massive problems with this metric, most significantly that a change in the underlying structure of the economy can change the assumptions that are used to evaluate it.
How many people remember Cesar Cedeno? He was a baseball player who came up with the Houston Astros in the early 1970s, and was thought to have remarkable potential (his manager, Leo Durocher, compared him with Willie Mays). And he had a fine career, as can be seen here. But it was never quite what is was supposed to be, his great seasons pretty much over by the time he was 25. He had injury problems, and an incident in which his girlfriend was killed seemed to take its toll.
The site at Baseball Reference to which I linked above shows a Bill James statistic, Similarity Score, which evaluates each player as to how similar their statistics were to other ballplayers. Looking at Cedeno by age, he starts out being similar to Vada Pinson, a great player who also peaked early. Cedeno from 27 to 29 is most similar to Hall of Famer Carl Yastrzemski; after that, it becomes Johnny Damon, and finishes with Amos Otis. Cedeno was no slouch, but he was no Willie Mays, and there are still many who see him as a big disappointment given his talent.
And maybe we need to start looking at the economy that way. Not, how is it doing?, but, How should it be doing? I'm the first person to say that we still have amazing strengths, a well-educated workforce with an entrepreneurial bent, piles of existing intellectual capital, a regulatory framework that offers some protection to creators and workers alike, and an openness to new ideas and structures that dwarf what the rest of the world has. (And, yes, I well recognize that many of those things have been compromised, I write about that all the time, but we haven't given up all the good stiff yet.)
So what do we do? We take a seriously flawed measure, take even a slight increase as evidence that we're not in an "officially-declared" recession, and feel better. But we should be looking at how this economy should be doing. Why are we comfortable with tiny increments to GDP, when we should be charging ahead like a team of horses? Instead of looking at crude aggregates, someone should develop an underperformance index, and we should be able to see just how our policies and practices are getting in the way of making the best life for everyone.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Leavin' his Beautiful Soul
Sticking with music on a sticky late-July day...
Pop singer Jesse McCartney has expressed a desire to move beyond the kid-pop sound of his 2004 hit "Beautiful Soul." After all, he's 21 now, so it's time to man up, go the Timberlake route, get that harder edge.
Then why is his new hit "Leavin'" even less macho than "Beautiful Soul"? It's pretty frothy stuff, and features a performance of near-negative sexuality. I really doubt that Mr. Tough is going to convince his lady to "call your shorty and tell him you found a new man." (Of course, this gal with the amazing "thing you got behind you" may be impressed with Jesse's "G-5, G-5" - golddigger.)
Pop singer Jesse McCartney has expressed a desire to move beyond the kid-pop sound of his 2004 hit "Beautiful Soul." After all, he's 21 now, so it's time to man up, go the Timberlake route, get that harder edge.
Then why is his new hit "Leavin'" even less macho than "Beautiful Soul"? It's pretty frothy stuff, and features a performance of near-negative sexuality. I really doubt that Mr. Tough is going to convince his lady to "call your shorty and tell him you found a new man." (Of course, this gal with the amazing "thing you got behind you" may be impressed with Jesse's "G-5, G-5" - golddigger.)
Off night, or age?
I don't write often about classical music, despite my great appreciation of it. (In fact, I could find only one previous mention of it in this blog, and I would have thought it would have crept in a time or two more.) Never having played an instrument (though you should hear my rendition of Amazing Grace on a tin whistle - spine-tingling), and having been an extremely casual listener before I was 25, I would be presumptuous to throw around any particular commentary ("ah, his rubato was superior, but I can't say I cared for his use of gratuitous appoggiaturas at all").
Oh, I have definite likes and dislikes as to music, and perhaps one day I will feel emboldened (or desperate) enough to put some of those thoughts on this blog. But I have close to no clue in terms of actual performances, either about the choices the performer makes or their actual ability. I take that back, somewhat; I once heard a performance of Mozart's Clarinet Concerto by the Chicago Symphony with principal clarinetist Larry Combs. The central movement, the Adagio, is in my view one of the truly shatteringly emotional pieces of music, even if I don't take into account that it was written soon before Mozart's far-too-early death. It is to be played slowly, as the marking would indicate, but Larry took it at a pretty good clip, as if he had some party to get to. For me, the structure was obliterated, and that angered me, so I do occasionally have an opinion as to performance choice.
At any rate, I went to the Ravinia Festival last night to hear an all-Beethoven program, the centerpiece of which was pianist Leon Fleisher playing the 5th Piano Concerto, the "Emperor." I won't recount the entire Fleisher story, remarkable as it is (the Wikipedia link I provided is a good summary of his long career and struggle with dystonia). He has just turned 80, and figures prominently in any taxonomy of piano performance and teaching, linked directly to Beethoven himself. Last year he was honored by the Kennedy Center with their prestigious award (of course, so was Diana Ross, so take it as it is).
The first movement was all right, perhaps a little muddy, but well within the boundaries of performance choice. The second movement, a truly lovely example of modified scales over a subdued orchestral background, was played beautifully (for the music-philes out there, I do recognize that there is more going on than my description would indicate, it's one of the few scores I've looked at, but the main impression is as I have said).
But, sadly, the third movement was just a mess. I accept wrong notes as part of live performance (I had the distinct pleasure of hearing Evgeny Kissin play all five Beethoven concertos with the CSO over two nights, and he missed a few notes - a very few). But Fleisher made so many mistakes that it was hard to listen to it, and every such disruption to a piece of music like that hurts the overall impression.
Perhaps unfairly, the first tendency is to ascribe a night like this to Fleisher's age. That may be wrong, he may have just had an extremely bad movement, but that is the first thought. And you think about that, and you begin to realize the extra pressure on a performer of a certain age, as every performance is taken as a referendum on their continued potency.
So I'm going to try not to think that way, but to remember a well-played, touching second movement, and chalk the ending up to a bad night. After all, not every blog post is absolutely top-drawer insight and revelation, some of them are just OK.
Oh, I have definite likes and dislikes as to music, and perhaps one day I will feel emboldened (or desperate) enough to put some of those thoughts on this blog. But I have close to no clue in terms of actual performances, either about the choices the performer makes or their actual ability. I take that back, somewhat; I once heard a performance of Mozart's Clarinet Concerto by the Chicago Symphony with principal clarinetist Larry Combs. The central movement, the Adagio, is in my view one of the truly shatteringly emotional pieces of music, even if I don't take into account that it was written soon before Mozart's far-too-early death. It is to be played slowly, as the marking would indicate, but Larry took it at a pretty good clip, as if he had some party to get to. For me, the structure was obliterated, and that angered me, so I do occasionally have an opinion as to performance choice.
At any rate, I went to the Ravinia Festival last night to hear an all-Beethoven program, the centerpiece of which was pianist Leon Fleisher playing the 5th Piano Concerto, the "Emperor." I won't recount the entire Fleisher story, remarkable as it is (the Wikipedia link I provided is a good summary of his long career and struggle with dystonia). He has just turned 80, and figures prominently in any taxonomy of piano performance and teaching, linked directly to Beethoven himself. Last year he was honored by the Kennedy Center with their prestigious award (of course, so was Diana Ross, so take it as it is).
The first movement was all right, perhaps a little muddy, but well within the boundaries of performance choice. The second movement, a truly lovely example of modified scales over a subdued orchestral background, was played beautifully (for the music-philes out there, I do recognize that there is more going on than my description would indicate, it's one of the few scores I've looked at, but the main impression is as I have said).
But, sadly, the third movement was just a mess. I accept wrong notes as part of live performance (I had the distinct pleasure of hearing Evgeny Kissin play all five Beethoven concertos with the CSO over two nights, and he missed a few notes - a very few). But Fleisher made so many mistakes that it was hard to listen to it, and every such disruption to a piece of music like that hurts the overall impression.
Perhaps unfairly, the first tendency is to ascribe a night like this to Fleisher's age. That may be wrong, he may have just had an extremely bad movement, but that is the first thought. And you think about that, and you begin to realize the extra pressure on a performer of a certain age, as every performance is taken as a referendum on their continued potency.
So I'm going to try not to think that way, but to remember a well-played, touching second movement, and chalk the ending up to a bad night. After all, not every blog post is absolutely top-drawer insight and revelation, some of them are just OK.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
The press of events
The news report you never heard:
And here is the biggest challenge to the new energy, Al Gore types (as I wrote about Monday). The case for disrupting our society is built on two legs: that it is necessary to halt, even reverse, climate change, or the planet may cease to exist; and that the ever-rising cost of traditional energy makes the new world cost-effective.
The first idea is hard for most people to get their heads around. In part, it's because, despite the PowerPoint presentations and documentaries, climate change is a pretty abstract problem. It has long-term, perhaps multi-generational, effects; unless you live on a patch of ground that can no longer support corn, but does allow sugar cane, you probably aren't hit between the eyes with vegetation changes.
And, in no small part, it comes from a confluence of scientific illiteracy with uncertainty. We hear that the north polar ice cap will be gone in five years, 10 years, 50 years, who knows? Not only don't we know what this implies, we don't have any idea when it will happen; if the experts can't agree, it becomes easier to believe that it's all a matter of opinion, instead of fact.
At least as important is the concept that rising prices of energy make alternatives cost-effective. I don't think that's true, at least not to the extent that Mr. Gore does, but the numbers do become more favorable to changes when the status quo becomes less favorable.
We have seen some recognition of that. There has been some positive commentary about higher gas prices, as the claim is that they will push the citizenry toward different technologies (and some corresponding backlash, as other commentators have called out that joy as unseemly given the very real hardships experienced by some people). If you're Al Gore, you need higher gas prices to justify the 10-year, no-carbon-fuel effort, so you have a vested interest in seeing those pump numbers climb and climb.
But, at least as vital is the push to get other people to see the value in those higher prices. To have news anchors trumpet a drop in price must really grate, because it just puts off the day that people will deal with this issue in a hard-headed fashion, making the sacrifices that will be necessary.
And that's why the comparison of the current challenge to the race to the moon is so spurious, so dishonest. A setback in the space program wasn't seen as positive by anyone; a setback in the energy program, like lower gasoline prices, is seen by everyone as positive. Overcoming this is one of Gore's biggest problems.
(January 27, 1967 - the voice you hear is that of a local news anchor, perhaps that of a purring, aging sex kitten) Good news for beleaguered taxpayers, there has been a major setback in the space program. The destruction of the command module of the Apollo spacecraft during today's testing may well mean the slowdown of the project. While this may mean we lose the ability to fulfill the late President Kennedy's dream of reaching the moon in this decade, it promises a lower tax bite to consumers already strapped by the cost of the war in Vietnam. Of course, as we turn to Bluff Hearty with the weather, losing those three astronauts is unfortunate, but we are going to see warmer temperatures...Of course, that is the same story we've heard the past couple of days, as those same news people have waxed rhapsodic over the downturn in gas prices. It isn't presented as a fact that viewers want to know, it's presented as an unalloyed "good thing," albeit with the same breathless tones and beaming smile that accompanied last week's story about how Americans are coping with the prices.
And here is the biggest challenge to the new energy, Al Gore types (as I wrote about Monday). The case for disrupting our society is built on two legs: that it is necessary to halt, even reverse, climate change, or the planet may cease to exist; and that the ever-rising cost of traditional energy makes the new world cost-effective.
The first idea is hard for most people to get their heads around. In part, it's because, despite the PowerPoint presentations and documentaries, climate change is a pretty abstract problem. It has long-term, perhaps multi-generational, effects; unless you live on a patch of ground that can no longer support corn, but does allow sugar cane, you probably aren't hit between the eyes with vegetation changes.
And, in no small part, it comes from a confluence of scientific illiteracy with uncertainty. We hear that the north polar ice cap will be gone in five years, 10 years, 50 years, who knows? Not only don't we know what this implies, we don't have any idea when it will happen; if the experts can't agree, it becomes easier to believe that it's all a matter of opinion, instead of fact.
At least as important is the concept that rising prices of energy make alternatives cost-effective. I don't think that's true, at least not to the extent that Mr. Gore does, but the numbers do become more favorable to changes when the status quo becomes less favorable.
We have seen some recognition of that. There has been some positive commentary about higher gas prices, as the claim is that they will push the citizenry toward different technologies (and some corresponding backlash, as other commentators have called out that joy as unseemly given the very real hardships experienced by some people). If you're Al Gore, you need higher gas prices to justify the 10-year, no-carbon-fuel effort, so you have a vested interest in seeing those pump numbers climb and climb.
But, at least as vital is the push to get other people to see the value in those higher prices. To have news anchors trumpet a drop in price must really grate, because it just puts off the day that people will deal with this issue in a hard-headed fashion, making the sacrifices that will be necessary.
And that's why the comparison of the current challenge to the race to the moon is so spurious, so dishonest. A setback in the space program wasn't seen as positive by anyone; a setback in the energy program, like lower gasoline prices, is seen by everyone as positive. Overcoming this is one of Gore's biggest problems.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Stupidity for sure
I've just come across a link I had saved from nine days ago, and thought I'd put it up. It's a New York Times op-ed by Frank Rich, and Rich lays out the case concerning John McCain's ignorance of the economy. The money quote:
Given McCain's missteps on calling out Barack Obama, essentially sending him overseas for a remarkably successful trip, it would be a shame if we forgot his far bigger problems with the economy. Consider this my contribution to remembering.
When it comes to the central front of American anxiety — the economy — his learning curve has flat-lined.The rest is solid, especially as it discusses Phil Gramm and Carly Fiorina (who "adds nothing to the mix beyond her incessant display of corporate jargon," which is accurate). Rich seems to believe that Michael Bloomberg would, as a vice presidential choice, give McCain the best chance of reclaiming any ground on financial issues, but points out that Bloomberg would be unlikely to take such a position.
Given McCain's missteps on calling out Barack Obama, essentially sending him overseas for a remarkably successful trip, it would be a shame if we forgot his far bigger problems with the economy. Consider this my contribution to remembering.
Decisions, decisions
From last week, a post by Patrick Appel for Andrew Sullivan on a Scientific American article, Tough Choices: How Making Decisions Tires Your Brain. In a nutshell, research shows that making choices fatigues the brain, causing subsequent decisions to suffer. Choice is hard, and providing people with more of it is not necessarily a plus.
I thought of writing a lengthy post in which I talk about how our system of representative democracy coupled with free-market capitalism elevates choice above all other attributes, being the only one that the two components share. As China is demonstrating, capitalism and democracy are not inevitably linked, despite what our pundits say.
It occurred to me, however, that I've written about this before. 14 months ago I wrote a post which lays out my concerns about how poorly our system serves the people, in particular because the ideals of the free market have taken precedence over the functions of our government. As a result, we've elevated the notion of choice, instrumental to the market system, to the overwhelmingly predominant value we can have. So we're offered choice in our medical plans; if we guess wrong, we have no one but ourselves to blame.
There may be many cases in which this is acceptable, but the research also indicates that this creates stress, stress that I would imagine is even greater for choices made in situations of greater uncertainty. Choice sounds great as long as the majority is making good (or at least acceptable) decisions - however, when they all, for example, miscall the real estate market, we can end up with disaster for the nation as a whole. Sometimes it is necessary to constrain individual choice to make the system work.
I thought of writing a lengthy post in which I talk about how our system of representative democracy coupled with free-market capitalism elevates choice above all other attributes, being the only one that the two components share. As China is demonstrating, capitalism and democracy are not inevitably linked, despite what our pundits say.
It occurred to me, however, that I've written about this before. 14 months ago I wrote a post which lays out my concerns about how poorly our system serves the people, in particular because the ideals of the free market have taken precedence over the functions of our government. As a result, we've elevated the notion of choice, instrumental to the market system, to the overwhelmingly predominant value we can have. So we're offered choice in our medical plans; if we guess wrong, we have no one but ourselves to blame.
There may be many cases in which this is acceptable, but the research also indicates that this creates stress, stress that I would imagine is even greater for choices made in situations of greater uncertainty. Choice sounds great as long as the majority is making good (or at least acceptable) decisions - however, when they all, for example, miscall the real estate market, we can end up with disaster for the nation as a whole. Sometimes it is necessary to constrain individual choice to make the system work.
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