Of outhouses and automobiles

Both Megan McArdle and Matt Yglesias have interesting posts about how important network effects can be to the adoption of new pieces of technology (Megan is talking about indoor plumbing, Matt about automobiles).  An except: 

Saying that people are choosing the a cell phone over an outhouse is not the same as saying they’re choosing a cell phone over an indoor toilet. Maybe that’s the choice they’d make, if they had it—I don’t know! But as Kelly’s own account acknowledges, they don’t actually have that choice, and certainly not at anything like the same cost.

Indoor plumbing requires either electricity to pump the water, and a nearby well to pump it from, or a connection to a public system with enough pressure to force the water high enough to flush your toilet. That’s a lot of power, not a trickle charge off of a small solar cell; I believe my great grandparents used a gasoline generator when they installed indoor plumbing in the mid-thirties. Gasoline generators are fairly expensive, as is the gasoline to run them, and I gather that they were only able to do it because their newly married son (my grandfather) saved up to help pay the installation cost, and then paid them rent that covered the cost of the fuel. Most farmers, I am told, waited until rural electrification brought them grid power.
 

Mark also pointed out just how important these elements of infrastructure were in transforming American society.  It's humbling to think about just how much effort was required to actually do all of these things (and concerning that infrastructure moves much slower today). 

However, I am hoping that the shift to an information based economy will have other benefits.  In some sense, there is a possibility that information, stored as pixels, could be something of real value (think of books or television programs) yet require very little resources to create.  In that sense maybe we could end up being happier (overall) while using less resources.

That being said, I have also used an outhouse and have absolutely no interest in giving up my indoor plumbing.  I am not even all that happy camping, unless there is a rest area in the middle of the campground with flush toilets (essential) and showers (highly desierable). 

Miles instead of years

Phil has a great follow-up to Mark's when 50 years was a long time ago post.

Enjoy.

P.S. I was personally struck by just how isolated the Puget Sound area really was in 1857; 6 weeks is an amazingly long trip to still be in the same country.

P.P.S. I should look at the scheduled posts before saying anything.  Suffice it to say, a post with a lot more actual thinking is forthcoming and, having run across it in the archives, it is worth the wait

Adam Frank is better at science than business

This is Falcon 7, not Falcon 9

Astrophysicist Adam Frank is what you might call a fan of SpaceX:

So what's the big deal? Well, the Falcon 9 is a private spaceship, fully developed and owned by the private company SpaceX. And SpaceX is the brainchild of Elon Musk, the Internet billionaire who made his fortune from PayPal. With contracts from NASA to develop new launch platforms, SpaceX and other companies are poised to make space the domain of profitable businesses. And Musk has been explicit about his intentions to go beyond Earth orbit, to build commercially viable ventures that might take people to Mars in a decade or two.

His timing couldn't be any better or any more urgent. Even without the space shuttle, America needs to remain a leader in space. Now, when I was a kid, the U.S. space program fueled my imagination and led me into a life of science. But as I got older, it became clear that the real business of getting a human presence across the solar system was going to have to fall to business. Governments might get the exploration of space started, but the vagaries of election and budget cycles meant they could never go further.

Now, we've reached the point where it's the exploitation of space that matters. And while exploitation might seem a dirty word to some folks, they should stop to consider how dependent we are already on the commercialization of that region of space we call low earth orbit. Think of the billions of dollars in commercial activity tied to weather prediction, global broadcasting and global positioning. All this business depends on satellites orbiting overhead right now.

But if, as a species, we want to go beyond the thin veil of space directly overhead, then the basic principles of private venture and risk will have to apply. These are the ones that have always applied. While Queen Isabella may have given Columbus his ships to cross the Atlantic, it was private companies that built the seagoing trade routes and brought folks across to settle - for better or worse. Likewise, it's only through commercially viable endeavors that large numbers of humans are getting off this world and into the high frontier of space.

It's no small irony that the billionaires bankrolling the new space entrepreneurship built their fortunes not in jetfighter aerospace manufacturing but in the dream space of the Internet.

Frank's enthusiasm is understandable but his thinking about the business and economics of space ranges from the wishful to the hopelessly muddled, particularly when it comes to "the basic principles of private venture and risk."

Private space travel has not, if you'll pardon the phrase, taken off in a serious way because there is no credible business model to support it. No one has figured out a way to make money going beyond earth's orbit and until we see a major technological breakthrough, it's likely that no one will.

There's an important distinction that needs to be made, the economic forces Frank is alluding to only come into play when markets efficiently allocate resources where they will have the greatest return (and the markets have decided that doesn't include trips to Mars). What we're talking about here is having the government contract with an independent company. We can discuss the wisdom and practicality of that decision later, but claiming that this "the basic principles of private venture and risk" are behind SpaceX is like claiming that the hiring of Blackwater meant that the markets decided we should invade Iraq.

To salvage the Columbus analogy, before he returned with information about the existence and location of the new world, people didn't attempt voyages because the expected return on investment was negative. After people had that information the expected return was positive.

Giving some contracts to companies like SpaceX might be a good idea (that's a discussion for another time) but it will do virtually nothing to shift the economic fundamentals.

There are things that the government could do to improve those fundamentals -- research initiatives, mapping out resources, setting up infrastructure (ground and/or space based)* -- but they require lots of upfront money. Our only other option is to wait for technology to bring the costs of launching materials way down, but that is likely to take a long time.

When it comes to the exploration and exploitation of space, those are our realistic choices.



* This is a topic for another post but aerospace researchers are exploring some technologies that could shift those expected returns from negative to positive, such launching components and supplies by railgun.

Looking at the same graph -- seeing an entirely different picture

There's plenty to talk about with this chart (which comes to us via Andrew Gelman), but the thing that struck me (and this happens a lot) is that, when you look at it closely, the graph actually undercuts the point it's supposed to be making.


The idea that technology is coming at us faster and faster is one of the most ingrained ideas in our society. Given the title of this chart, its creator would certainly seem to share this notion, but does the chart really show what its name indicates or are we seeing something more like a distant cousin of Simpson's paradox where shifts in make-up and other factors create the illusion of a trend?

(Before we get into these factors, though, take a minute to look at the graph. It looks like the steepest curve is associated with the VCR. That's over thirty years ago, a long time for a record to hold if we really are seeing an upward trend.)

As you're looking at the graph, think about these three things:

Infrastructure

Depression/War

Big ticket items

Going last to first, big ticket items requiring heavier manufacturing always had slow adoption curves regardless of when they were introduced (check out the dishwasher). Much of the appearance of acceleration can be attributed to a shift in composition to smaller items.

Then there's the period of 1930 to 1945, pretty much the ultimate in anomalous data. During the Depression most people couldn't afford new products. During the war, new technology was rapidly developed and adopted, but by the military, not consumers.

Finally there's infrastructure. The adoption curves of electricity and telephones are almost entirely governed by the hard work of developing infrastructure (something we have arguably gotten slower at) and infrastructure at least indirectly constrains every line on this graph (check out the Reivers for an account of what cross country driving was like at the beginning of the last century).

The infrastructure constraint points to perhaps the most impressive case of a technology exploding. Take a look at the curve for radio. Now look at the curve for electricity. Even allowing for a few crystal radios and battery operated sets, you have to conclude that radios achieved almost 100% penetration of houses with electricity in about a decade. By that standard, the record for fastest adoption is over eighty years old.

Update: There's a good string of comments on this over at Andrew Gelman's site, some of which make some of the same points I've made here..

Futurism

Something that Mark and I have been talking about is how much less audacious we have been (as a country) since the 1950's.  Back then there was a real sense of inevitable progress and an idea that there were great accomplishments lurking around the corner.  Noah Smith weighs in with an example of this:

If we had found better ways to unlock the vast stores of energy that we know are lurking inside the nuclei of atoms, we'd have those flying cars and Mars colonies and everything people thought we'd have back in the 50s (OK, the Economist doesn't say that, but it's true).

When did we lose this ambition and can we get it back?  

Apple's aspect dominance

When a successful, highly respected business dies unexpectedly, a bit of hyperbole is only natural. That said, the coverage has painted an awfully large picture of Steve Jobs' impact. The phrase "changed the world" has been difficult to avoid. (CNN Money doubled down on the theme following the headline "10 ways Steve Jobs changed the world" with the subtitle "There may never be another chief executive like him. Apple's former CEO and co-founder transformed the world's relationship with technology -- forever.")

We've also heard endless comparisons to Thomas Edison, which provide a useful bit of perspective. When Edison died, everyone with electricity or phone service (and many of those without) had his technology in their homes. Whether you went to the movies or the doctor, the legacy was unavoidable. By comparison, Apple, while a fantastically success company by most metrics, has a small footprint. Most of us don't have a Mac or an I-anything.

Apple's perceived footprint, however, is much larger. Based on news accounts and popular culture, you might get the impression that the typical American owns multiple Apple products. How did Apple manage this?

Some of the credit has to go the company's exceptionally effective branding (but that's a topic for another post). Then there's the kind products Apple makes, what we might call surface technology. Much, if not most, of the technology we use operates behind the scene. Personal electronics are easy to spot and are often used in public.

Then there's aspect dominance. I couldn't fins a good online definition of the concept (and I'm not qualified to write one) so I'll use the example that was given to me: when bitterweeds established themselves in a pasture, they would, from a distance, give the impression that fields were a solid yellow. When you got closer, you saw as much green as you did yellow. If you were a botanist observing those fields from a distance, it would be easy to overestimate the prevalence of that one species.

As you might imagine, shape and size contribute to aspect dominance. The bright flowers on top of relatively tall stalks allowed the weeds to have to effect they had. With social behavior, instead of height, we'd look for factors that make certain people more visible to the society (which generally means more visible in the media).

One obvious factor is a being in the entertainment industry. Apple has a huge presence (I'm writing this in a Hollywood coffee shop and I believe this is the only Dell in the house). Veteran sitcom writer Rob Long observed that it was actually a sign of security for someone in the industry not to use a Mac.

Then there are the demographics. Apple users tend to be upscale. Journalists these days tend to view the world through am upper-middle-class lens. Journalists also tend to be more urban (not many Apple stores in small town America) and, by the nature of their jobs, trendy. Nor, is this profile limited to journalists and entertainment professionals. Most prominent people tend to fall into one or more of these groups. In other words, there's a positive correlation between your visibility and your likelihood of owning an Apple product.

None of this takes away from Jobs accomplishments. It does, however, remind us that the press doesn't always do a good job keeping things in perspective.

Tin-can telephones and Apple's Patent Paradox

From Jon Kolger:

Acoustic telephones or 'string' telephones as they are often called, are misunderstood by many collectors. Since they transmit sound purely by mechanical means, they embody none of the pioneering electrical innovations that many collectors find so interesting. Truthfully though, very early telephones performed poorly; and during these years, the acoustic telephone represented a truly viable alternative for relatively short, private-line telephone systems.

Since they contained no electrical transmitting or receiving devices, they did not infringe on the Bell patents. Thus they were able to enter the telephone industry during the protected years of the late 1870s and 1880s, carving out a small niche for themselves.

The Smithson website has a page on one of these phones:

In a trade catalog entitled Holcomb’s Improved Amplifying Telephone Illustrated Descriptive Circular, the telephone was described as “unquestionably one of the most marvelous and useful inventions of the nineteenth century.”

Holcomb’s mechanical telephones used galvanized steel cable-wire to transmit voice communications over distances of two miles. They were designed to meet the needs of businesses and “enable the busy man to save valuable time, to avoid vexatious delays, and to direct from his office the operations of employees at manufactory, mill, office, depot, or store . . . ”

I was reminded of these phones while I was working on a post about Apple. (If you write about Ddulites, you have to do a post on Apple sooner or later.) It struck me that the lag time between Apple and Apple imitators is remarkably brief. Bell's patents kept competitors at bay for long enough for alternatives like mechanical phones to get a foothold (albeit a small one). I also heard that part of the reason that the film industry moved west (first to Chicago, then to LA) was to put some distance between it and Edison's lawyers.

Patent enforcement has never been stronger (take the 101 north and you'll find the woods lousy with patent attorneys). Patents have never been issued so easily. You might expect competitors to wait years to make a media player or a smart phone, but Apple's patents don't seem to buy them any time at all.

I know we have some technologically astute people in the audience who could explain this but, in the meantime, here are a couple of theories.

The first is the obvious one. Apple, at least the Apple off the past few years, is more of a leading edge company than a cutting edge one. The strategy seems to be to make the best products they can using existing technology rather than focusing on actually developing new technology, and it's hard (though not impossible) to effectively build a wall of patents around existing technology.

The second is less obvious (and coherent) and it may apply better to companies other than Apple, but here goes: When everyone has patents, no one has patents. There are so many patents making such broad (and often overlapping) claims that no one can actually make anything without infringing on something. Though there has always been a market in patents (Edison established Menlo Park with money he got from selling his Quadruplex telegraph to Western Union), there was still a strong relationship between creation and patent application (Edison didn't just patent the idea of sending multiple signals over a single wire) and more often than not the company that held the patents made the product.

That relationship has apparently broken down. These days I suspect that most of those patents that aren't held for extortion are purchased defensively -- Google buys patents because they contain good ideas but as protection against patent trolls. In this system, patents don't do anything to protect the people who actually come up with valuable ideas (anything specific enough to be of value will infringe on someone's sweeping patent). Instead, the system insures that only those with pockets deep enough to buy off the trolls will be able to play.

Tyler Cowen argues against more regulation with an example that calls for more regulation

Tyler Cowen has a piece in the New York Times on how regulation inhibits innovation in transportation using the example of driverless cars. I'm not sure he's made his general case (that's the subject for an upcoming post), but his specific case is particularly problematic.

In case you haven't been following this story, Google has been getting a lot of press for its experiments with self-driving cars, especially after statements like this from Stanford professor Sebastian Thrun:

"Think about the car as a medium of mass transit: So, what if our highway-train of the future meant you go on the highway, and there's a train of very close-driving cars with very low wind drag, fantastic capacity, is twice as efficient as possible as today, and so there is no congestion anymore?"

Cowen is clearly thinking along the same lines:

Furthermore, computer-driven cars could allow for tighter packing of vehicles on the road, which would speed traffic times and allow a given road or city to handle more cars. Trips to transport goods might dispense with drivers altogether, and rental cars could routinely pick up customers. And if you worry about the environmental consequences of packing our roads with cars, since we can’t do without them entirely, we still can make those we use as efficient — and as green — as possible.

Putting aside the question of the magnitude of these savings in time, road capacity and fuel effeiciency (which, given the level of technology we're talking about here, aren't that great), where exactly are these savings coming from?

Some can certainly be attributed to more optimal decision-making and near instantaneous reaction time, but that's not where the real pay-off is. To get the big savings, you need communication and cooperation. Your ideal driving strategy needs to take into account the destination, capabilities and strategies of all the vehicles around you. Every car on the road has got be talking with every other car on the road, all using the same language and rules of the road, to get anything near optimal results.

Throw just one vehicle that's not communicating (either because it has a human driver or because its communication system is down or is incompatible) into the mix and suddenly every other vehicle nearby will have to allow for unexpected acceleration and lane changes. Will driverless cars be able to deal with the challenge? Sure, but they will not be able to able to do it while achieving the results Thrun describes.

A large number of driverless cars might improve speed and congestion slightly, but getting to the packed, efficient roads that Cowen mentions would mean draconian regulations requiring highly specific attributes for all vehicles driving on a major freeway. The manufacture and modification of vehicles would have to be tightly controlled. Motorcycles would almost certainly have to be banned from major roads. Severe limits would have to be put on when a car or truck could be driven manually.

This would seem to be another case of a libertarian endorsing a technology with less than libertarian implications.