Archive for October, 2009
publishing business models
Posted by Tim in business models on 31 October 2009
Kassia Krozer writes a fantastic blog that primarily discusses the book publishing industry. Her post today has an excellent quote from author Mur Lafferty (here’s his original post):
What really surprises me is when you hear publishing people say that they don’t know what to do, or that they refuse listen to Internet professionals. They seem to believe if they do what has worked in the past, eventually the storm will pass and the anchor of tradition will have kept them steady and safe. They look at the people who are succeeding by merging their digital plans with their traditional print plans and call them anomalies at best, or insane at worst. What they need to be doing is learning from them.
Then in the comments on her original post, Lafferty says this:
Actually I do advocate giving the book away – I have given away one novel (both audio and PDF) and five novellas (audio only). And someone actually brought up the boingboing thing to Cory this year at WorldCon – he replied that in the beginning (2003, when he gave his first novel away, which I am pretty sure was pre-boingboing, but I can’t find a date when he started on that blog), people said, “sure you can give your book away, you are nobody and you have nothing to lose.” and now they say “sure you can give your book away, you’re huge, but someone starting from zero can’t do it.”
When I started my podcast, and the same as JC Hutchins, Scott Sigler, and many other podcasters and authors who give their books away, I had no platform at all. I built it giving my stuff away.
Is it right for most people? I don’t know. (see myopic comment that was my caveat.) But everyone I know who has done it swears by it. It’s right for me.
My friend in publishing asked me this question in the course of our discussion – “If I took [two novels] and put them on my Website and said,”Here, you can have these books for free, but if you want enhanced editions, pony up and I’ll sell you some beauties,” wouldn’t I be conveying the idea that the written works themselves have no inherent value?” If written works themselves have no inherent value, then I’d like to have back the $2500+ per year that I spend on books! The point here is not that written works have no inherent value – they very clearly do. The issue is that perfectly copy-able digital content has a market value that is pretty close to zero. And the problem for publishers is that it is impossible to prevent the existence of digital copies – you can’t have a business model that requires constant ligation to be successful. Consequently, given that reality, it is imperative to find a business model that successfully incorporates free content.

Using free content to drive customers to the paid content only works because the written works the paid content is based on have inherent value. So my answer to my friend would be that using the model that he outlines actually conveys the message that the inherent value of those works is very high – so high that people will be willing to pay $17 for an officially printed copy, or $100 for an autographed copy, or $250 for some other version with some other special add-on. That only works if the original is great – and using a revenue generation model like that actually signals that the content is great.
This is obviously a huge shift, and it’s not an easy one to make. But it’s critical that it be done – I love books too much to see them killed off by faulty business models!
(photo from flickr/austinevan under a creative commons license)
looking for a vacuum
Posted by Tim in evolving economic entities, time on 30 October 2009
Lee Sigelman wants to know why smartphones don’t have keyboards that look like this?

That’s the Dvorak keyboard, and by all (well, most) accounts you can touchtype significantly faster on one of those than you can on a qwerty keyboard. The persistence of the qwerty keyboard is the poster child for the idea of economic path dependence – a story first told by Paul David. According to David, the qwerty keyboard was developed back when typewriters looked like this:

And the reason for the less efficient placement of the keys was to prevent having the typebars jam as they came up to strike the page. qwerty persisted despite the development of more efficient layouts for the keys. This made sense as long as typewriters had typebars, but what about after the development of roller heads? And, more importantly, what about after we started typing on computers? Surely once the threat of jamming is gone, we really want the keyboard with the most efficient layout, don’t we?
Apparently we don’t. David’s hypothesis is that the cost of teaching all of the touchtypists to use new keyboards is so high that using qwerty is locked in. So the path our current technology follows depends on history – hence path dependence.
I was reminded of this yesterday while I was reading Unleashing the Ideavirus by Seth Godin. In that, he talks about the importance of developing ideas for which there is a vacuum – in other words, ideas for parts of the product space that aren’t already taken up. What he’s basically saying is that when you’re innovating, you don’t want to fight path dependence. In fact, if you find empty enough spaces to work in, you can actually create path dependence that favours your new idea.
So when we’re innovating, we want to look for the vacuum.
And of course, the answer to the original question is that since no one is touch-typing on smartphones, what we really need there is the keyboard layout that is the most familiar…
(photo from flickr/John Ong under a creative commons license)
herding the butterflies of innovation
Posted by Tim in innovation, innovation strategy on 29 October 2009
John and I had a meeting yesterday with one of our research partners. Mike is the local head of knowledge management for his firm, and he’s been great to work with on our network analysis research project. At the end of the meeting we were talking about how our project fit in with his overall knowledge management scheme, and Mike said “A lot of people say that knowledge management is like herding cats, but I say that it’s really like herding butterflies. You can’t make butterflies go anywhere – if you want them around you have to create a garden that attracts them.”

In addition to being a nice metaphor, to me this rings true as a good way to manage in general – and it’s just as true for managing innovation as it is for managing knowledge (and really, the line between the two is an awfully thin one anyway). If you’re trying to make your firm more innovative, you can’t force people to execute ideas. You have to give them the tools that they need, in an atmosphere that allows them try out new ideas. If you feel that you need to have full control over the process, it’s not likely to work very well.
The thing of it is, if you get the conditions right, you’ll likely not only get what you want, but some pleasant surprises as well. Since moving into our house, Nancy & I have been planting the yard to attract birds. Some of the birds that have come into the yard as a result have been predictable, some have been entirely surprising, and we’ve gotten a couple of birds in that I never would have imagined seeing in a suburban yard. Gardening for butterflies produces the same kind of results. So does managing for innovation. In all three cases, you have to focus on creating the right conditions, and then have some faith that they will lead to the outcomes that you want. The bonus though is that if you do it well, you’ll also get some outcomes that you never imagined.
(image from flickr/Jason Pier under a creative commons license)
Tom Peters on innovation
Posted by Tim in innovation on 28 October 2009
Here’s a nice talk by Tom Peters on innovation. Some of the points that jumped out at me:
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- He again emphasises the importance of process/business model innovation – we simply can’t get stuck on only thinking of new products as innovation.
- The idea that you should only buy from vendors that are in the top 10% of their industry in R&D expenditure is pretty interesting. Yes, R&D is spending is only a proxy for innovation, and not a great one – but his main point, that you need to work with the most innovative people and firms that you can find is well taken.
- Good ideas can come from anywhere – not just inside your firm. Yes!
- “The bottleneck is at the top of the bottle” – quoting Gary Hamel, Peters says that great innovation doesn’t come from corporate headquarters.
- Diversity of mental approaches is important – for more on this, read The Difference by Scott Page.
- “Who’s the most interesting person that you’ve met in the past 90 days?” – interesting question, and probably worth asking…
- Interesting point on incremental innovation – he cites studies that suggest that people/processes with higher levels of variation end up being more innovative than those with tightly controlled output. So maybe lean/six sigma aren’t compatible with innovating? I’d be interested in hearing thoughts on that…
- I like his idea that firms should be built to perform for 20 years, then move on to something new. That rings pretty true to me.
I know that Peters’ stuff isn’t necessarily overburdened with support from well-deisgned research studies, but I still find him to be consistently interesting, often inspirational, and most imprtantly to me, someone that talks about the world of business in a way that is very conssitent with the way that I’ve experienced it. So I don’t read him to find out the truth – I read him to get ideas. And he’s great for that.
the geography of innovation
Posted by Tim in innovation on 27 October 2009
Where you are is still important. Location has a huge impact on the resources available to you, the education of the people that you work with, the money available to try out radical ideas, and the cultural attitudes towards new things. Check out this from a Time Magazine article on California:
Ignore the California whinery. It’s still a dream state. In fact, the pioneering megastate that gave us microchips, freeways, blue jeans, tax revolts, extreme sports, energy efficiency, health clubs, Google searches, Craigslist, iPhones and the Hollywood vision of success is still the cutting edge of the American future — economically, environmentally, demographically, culturally and maybe politically. It’s the greenest and most diverse state, the most globalized in general and most Asia-oriented in particular at a time when the world is heading in all those directions. It’s also an unparalleled engine of innovation, the mecca of high tech, biotech and now clean tech. In 2008, California’s wipeout economy attracted more venture capital than the rest of the nation combined. Somehow its supposedly hostile business climate has nurtured Google, Apple, Hewlett-Packard, Facebook, Twitter, Disney, Cisco, Intel, eBay, YouTube, MySpace, the Gap and countless other companies that drive the way we live.
And here’s another interesting bit:
California scores poorly in most “business friendly” ratings, which tend to focus on tax rates and wage levels rather than on, say, worker productivity or creativity.
A lot of the measures of ‘business friendliness’ have absolutely nothing to do with the factors that support innovation. In fact, it is a robust research finding that things like increased regulation actually spur innovation and related economic growth. Why are the leading clean-tech energy innovations coming from California and Germany? In large part because of long-standing legislative requirements.

And then there’s this from Guido Jouret of Cisco:
California has a very welcoming attitude, but it’s a Darwinian society. Companies come and grow and die, and no one sheds a tear. And there’s a real sense that it isn’t worth doing if it won’t change the world.
When we talk about creative destruction we often focus more on the ‘creative’ part than the ‘destruction’ – but both are needed for innovation to occur. The big question is what resources are available for those that are negatively affected by change.
I keep hearing about the death of distance, but where you are still matters – especially if you’re trying to innovate. This doesn’t mean that people and firms can’t be innovative in environments that are less supportive of innovation – they can. It simply means that you need to consider the resources and constraints provided by your location when you develop a strategy for innovation.
(hat tip to Tom Peters – who highlighted the first quote too)
(the picture is from flickr/Port of San Diego under a creative commons licence)
splitting and lumping
Posted by Tim in aggregate, business models, connect, evolving economic entities, filter, innovation on 26 October 2009
It’s hard for birders to see albatrosses. You have to a book a boat trip, they take all day (or longer!), and there are long periods of boredom punctuated by frenzied excitement when you run across birds – which you really hope you don’t miss seeing! And even if you’re not prone to seasickness, inevitably others on the boat are, so that part is unpleasant no matter what. The birds that you get see are spectacular though. So Nancy and I have ended up taking quite a few pelagic trips, and we’ve ended up seeing a lot of albatrosses.

Given the difficulties of pelagic birding, though, it was still pretty nice when the number of species of albatross that we had seen suddenly jumped by four without us even leaving land. How? Because dna test evidence was strong enough to convince ornithologists that the albatrosses that we always thought were subspecies were actually full, genetically distinct species. Since we had kept track of the subspecies that we had seen, our sightings of royal albatross suddenly retrospectively became sightings of northern royal albatross and southern royal albatross. This happened with three other species too, so that’s how our albatross list got longer without any extra effort. When it comes to species definitions, birders are almost always splitters. They prefer it when we focus on the differences between two things rather than the similarities. The opposite tendency, more often found in ornithologists than birders, is to be a lumper. Lumpers focus on the similarities over the differences.
So while I’ve consistently been a splitter as a birder, in business I’ve become much more of a lumper. In response to the post on Cory Doctorow’s book pricing experiment, I’ve been having some discussions with a friend of mine in the publishing business. In the course of that discussion I’ve mentioned examples from both music and book publishing. My friend is pretty well convinced that book publishing is completely different from music publishing. He’s a splitter on this matter. I think that is extremely dangerous, for a couple of reasons.
One is that people often split concepts to avoid change. If two examples don’t map onto each other in every particular detail, they reject the possibility of any comparison between the two things. This is fine I guess, as long as there is no imperative to change. John, Sam and I have seen this is our research – people from different sections of our research partner’s firm are convinced that they are completely different from other parts of the firm – consequently they don’t or can’t implement changes that the other parts have successfully developed. The problem with this is that if your industry is turbulent, this kind of thinking can prevent you from making changes that you must make in order to survive.
With books and music, I’m definitely a lumper. Publishing in both fields arose for essentially the same reason – musicians and authors want their work to spread to as wide an audience as possible, the the people that are potentially interested in their work are often geographically dispersed. Consequently, since it has always been pretty expensive to make, distribute and promote books and records, publishers with capital have had a very clear role to play as intermediaries. They take on the risk that a particular book/record won’t sell in exchange for a bunch of the profit if it does do well. The problem that both book publishers and record companies now face is that cheap and easy digital reproduction means that at least at a technological level, anyone can now reach nearly all of their potential audience. There are differences in the particulars of book and music publishing (musicians can make more money touring, book readers tend to be in a higher socioeconomic tier, and so on) – and if you focus on these, you can split the two industries. If you do this, then there is nothing for book publishers to learn from the 30 years of suicidal activities undertaken by the RIAA. There are no lessons for dealing with Amazon’s Kindle or the new Barnes and Noble Nook to be learned by looking at what has happened with the iPod/iTunes combination. In this case, splitting is dangerous, because you can’t learn from what has already happened in similar industries. “But my industry is different” is one of the most frightening phrases that I hear from people in business, and I hear it a lot.
That brings us to the second problem with splitting. Turbulent industries require innovation – particularly on the part of established players as they try to adapt to a rapidly changing environment. Innovation is the act of connecting two ideas that were previously independent. To do this, you need to be a lumper, not a splitter. If you’re trying to find new business models, finding an analogy with a similar (or even a vastly different) industry is often the crucial first step. Excessive splitting in business inhibits innovation. So even though there are significant differences between books and music, I still think that the generic problem is the same – publishers in both areas have to find business models that aren’t built on distribution any more. Cory Doctorow and Kristin Hersh have built unique business models based on building communities of fans/participants around their art. This is based on connecting – one of the three key drivers of economic value in digital economies. The other are aggregating (what Apple has done with iTunes and Amazon has done with all the ebooks available for the Kindle) and filtering (which has been the other historical service performed by book publishers and record labels).
Splitting can be useful in business. It can help you identify a customer segment that is currently under-serviced, or it can help you create five different versions of one product that people can access at different prices. But if you’re trying to make new connections, which is a critical part of innovating, you need to be a lumper. Find the similarities between your situations and others’ – and learn from those.
(the beautiful shot of a northern royal albatross is from flickr/pablo_caceres_c – creative commons licensed)
my boss won’t let me
Seth Godin wrote a piece for the Guardian a couple of years ago now, which included a list of ways to be remarkable. All of that is useful advice, and it’s a good piece that’s worth reading. The part that caught my eye though was the conclusion, because it reminded me of some of the discussion here around the idea of public sector innovation, or innovating in situations where you feel like you can’t. Here’s the quote:
“But wait!” I hear you say. “My boss won’t let me. I want to do something great, but she won’t let me.”
This is, of course, nonsense. Your boss won’t let you because what you’re really asking is: “May I do something silly and fun and, if it doesn’t work, will you take the blame – but if it does work, I get the credit?” What would you say to an offer like that?
The alternative sounds scary, but I don’t think it is. The alternative is to just be remarkable. Go all the way to the edge. Not in a big thing, perhaps, but in a little one. Find some area where you have a tiny bit of authority and run with it. After you succeed, you’ll discover you’ve got more leeway for next time. And if you fail? Don’t worry. Your organisation secretly wants employees willing to push hard even if it means failing every so often.
And when? When should you start being remarkable? How’s this: if you don’t start tomorrow, you’re not really serious. Tomorrow night by midnight or don’t bother. You’re too talented to sit around waiting for the perfect moment. Go start.
I think that his advice there in the third paragraph is exactly correct. The way to be innovative is to try stuff. Start with whatever small stuff you can get away with, then build from there. Why not?
looking for positive black swans
Posted by Tim in innovation on 24 October 2009
Here is Nassim Nicholas Taleb talking about using nature as a model:
The whole talk is well worth watching – it’s one of the best I’ve seen from Taleb. He tends to focus on avoiding negative black swan events (extremely rare events with disproportional impacts), so almost always talks about mitigating risk. When we’re trying to innovate, on the other hand, we’re looking for a positive black swan event if we’re trying to come up with radical innovations. And there is one absolutely essential point for this in Taleb’s talk – to do this effectively, we need slack. We can’t come up with innovations if our organisation is 100% efficient. Some innovations won’t work. This might look like ‘waste’ to some people, but it’s not. It is an investment towards finding the things that will work. We can’t be innovative if we’re fully leveraged.
thoughts on leadership
Posted by Tim in innovation on 23 October 2009
I was talking with my colleague Jay Weerawardena today about leadership. We agreed that an important aspect of leadership is inspiring people, but also putting people into a position to succeed. That idea fit in very well with Itay Talgam’s TED talk, which was posted:
There are many useful points made in this talk, but the one that resonated most strongly with me is the idea that leadership isn’t about telling people what to do – it is about taking everyone’s talents and creating something together. That proposition is self-evidently true in the orchestras that Talgam uses as examples in his talks, but I also think that this is true in firms. Innovation leadership is about creating things together – which means that management is at least as much about removing obstacles as it is about directing.
what happened to Argentina?
Posted by Tim in innovation, networks, time on 23 October 2009
Edward Glaeser has written a couple of posts over the past week looking at Argentina on the Economix blog for the NYT. It’s an interesting topic. Argentina was a wealthy country at the start of the 20th century, but by almost every conceivable ecnomic measure available, it is much worse off now than it was then. Here is an example from my own research:

This shows how well connected a few countries have been in the international trade network from 1938 to 2003**. The diagram shows several of the common patterns in the data. The US is the line in the middle – it has always been the 1st or 2nd most connected country in the network. The lines for Singapore and China are moving towards the middle, indicating that they have become increasingly more connected over time – China is now one of the unusually-highly connected hubs within the network. Ireland is one of the countries that has drifted up and down in the rankings, and Argentina is one of the countries that has dropped dramatically – from 9th most-connected in 1938 to 98th most-connected in 2003. This drop in trade connections correlates quite strongly with relative drops in GDP per capita too.
In his posts, Glaeser has been trying to tease out the reasons for this decline. In the latest one, he includes this graph showing the correlation between school enrolments in 1900 and GDP per capita in 2000:

This data is astonishing! It shows an incredibly strong correlation between school enrolments in 1900 and wealth 100 years later. Glaeser goes on to discuss whether this is a random correlation or suggesive of causality (and he comes down on the side of causality). This link between education and wealth has several important implications for those of us interested in innovation.
The first is that it offers more evidence that the roots of innovation are deep. The work of David Landes and Nathan Rosenberg among many others shows that differences in innovation performance at the national level explain differences in GDP measures. The decisions that we make now about education and other infrastructural support for innovation will have an impact for many years to come. Just as a firm can’t simply say ‘we’ll start being more innovative right now’, neither can a country or a region.
The second point is that this shows part of why there might be a link between innovation and wealth. Again, there is plenty of research that shows that educational levels correlate with innovation. I would contend that since innovation is primarily the act of making novel connections between things, a large part of this link comes from the increased ability to make interesting mental connections that is part of a successful educational process.
It also makes an alarming point about politics. If the impact of decisions about things like education continue for a century, then policy-making based on the 24 hour news cycle seems especially dangerous, doesn’t it?
I think that the case of Argentina tells us a lot about innovation policy. In particular, the importance of thinking through the implications of what we’re doing right now for what we want to have happening in the future. Even though very few of us have 100 year planning windows, this is still an important point.
**Specifically, this data ranks all of the countries included in the IMF trade data over that time based on their in-degree within the network. In-degree is a measure of the number of countries that export a significant amount of their GDP to a particular country.



