Limiting Markets

Laughing Wolf has a couple good posts–one a general tutorial on writing a business plan, and another on specific issues associated with space business plans.

On the latter, though, I think he spent a little too much time at NASA. I don’t understand what he means about space tourism being a “limited” market. From my perspective, it’s the only one that’s not limited, at least in the sense that there are millions of existing payloads, and millions more are continually being manfactured by (as the old joke goes) unskilled labor. In my opinion, he has far far too much faith in space manufacturing, particularly given its dismal payoff so far, relative to the hype for the last thirty years.

I believe that there may be money to be made from this field, but it’s not going to be a major driver for reducing launch costs, because the lucrative applications (if there are any) will be those for which great value can be extracted from small amounts of mass (just as currently the most money made in space consists of delivering a few thousand pounds into orbit which then returns millions of dollars of revenue in the form of (rest) massless photons). Only tourism requires the huge amount of up and down mass that will force up launch activity, and force down costs.

“…A Cranky Letter Writer To The Local Paper…”

Dan Weintraub’s review of a recent Bustamante speech is withering:

With just a few words tucked in the middle of his speech, Bustamante demonstrated that despite the image, despite the build-up, despite the resume, his knowledge of state government and its problems is woefully thin.

Sounding no more informed than a cranky letter writer to the local paper, Bustamante badly mischaracterized the roots of California?s budget crisis, falsely claiming that the electricity purchases the state made on behalf of the utilities in 2001 erased the budget surplus and forced the state to cut vital programs. While that’s a widely held perception among the general public, it is completely untrue, and any second-year staffer in the Legislature could tell you so.

“…A Cranky Letter Writer To The Local Paper…”

Dan Weintraub’s review of a recent Bustamante speech is withering:

With just a few words tucked in the middle of his speech, Bustamante demonstrated that despite the image, despite the build-up, despite the resume, his knowledge of state government and its problems is woefully thin.

Sounding no more informed than a cranky letter writer to the local paper, Bustamante badly mischaracterized the roots of California?s budget crisis, falsely claiming that the electricity purchases the state made on behalf of the utilities in 2001 erased the budget surplus and forced the state to cut vital programs. While that’s a widely held perception among the general public, it is completely untrue, and any second-year staffer in the Legislature could tell you so.

“…A Cranky Letter Writer To The Local Paper…”

Dan Weintraub’s review of a recent Bustamante speech is withering:

With just a few words tucked in the middle of his speech, Bustamante demonstrated that despite the image, despite the build-up, despite the resume, his knowledge of state government and its problems is woefully thin.

Sounding no more informed than a cranky letter writer to the local paper, Bustamante badly mischaracterized the roots of California?s budget crisis, falsely claiming that the electricity purchases the state made on behalf of the utilities in 2001 erased the budget surplus and forced the state to cut vital programs. While that’s a widely held perception among the general public, it is completely untrue, and any second-year staffer in the Legislature could tell you so.

The New Totalitarianism

As you may have noticed, I’m back (in San Bruno, not LA, to which I won’t be back until Thursday). In addition to fighting off small procyonidae and wondering at the pacific Pacific, I read a little over half of The Blank Slate, by Pinker. This is a brilliant book, and a very important one, which I can’t recommend highly enough, not just to people interested in evolution, or anthropology, or evolutionary psychology, but most importantly to those interested in sociology and political science. Its scope is broad, and it covers a number of topics of current political strife in the context of the bizarre and mistaken, but common notion (at least on many college campuses) that human beings truly are a “tabula rasa,” a product purely of their environment, and that human nature doesn’t exist.

I’ll probably be referring to it quite a bit in future posts, but I wanted to note this bit from page 157 of the edition that I have (paperback).

The ideological connection between Marxist socialism and National Socialism is not fanciful. Hitler read Marx carefully while living in Munich in 1913, and may have picked up from him the fateful postulate that the two ideologies would share. It is the belief that history is a preordained succession of conflicts between groups of people and that improvement in the human condition can come only from the victory of one group over the others. For the Nazis the groups were races; for the Marxists they were classes. For the Nazis the conflict was Social Darwinism; for the Marxists, it was class struggle.For the Nazis the destined victors were the Aryans; for the Marxists, they were the proletariat. The ideologies, once implemented, led to atrocities in a few steps: struggle (often a euphemism for violence) is inevitable and beneficial; certain groups of people (the non-Aryan races or the bourgeoisie) are morally inferior; improvements in human welfare depend on their subjugation or elimination. Aside from supplying a direct justification for violent conflict, the ideology of intergroup struggles ignites a nasty feature of human social psychology; the tendency to divide people into in-groups and out-groups and to treat the out-groups as less than human. It doesn’t matter whether the groups are defined by their biology or by their history. Psychologists have found that they can create instant intergroup hostility by sorting people on just about any pretext, including the flip of the coin.

The enemy with which we are now confronted easily slips into the same mold (not surprising, since they have long allied themselves with both groups–the Nazis during WW II and the Soviets in the Cold War).

For the Islamacists the groups are religions, the conflict is jihad and a restoration of the Caliphate, the morally inferior people are the kufr and infidels, and the destined victors are, of course, them. Like the Nazis and Soviets, their movement arose from failed states of once-proud people (Weimar Germany for the Nazis, Czarist Russian in the wake of the Great War for the Soviets, and the lost Arab civilization after their defeat in Europe and the establishment of the Ottoman Empire, followed by European colonization).

The only difference (and its significance is primarily that it will make it easier to defeat them) is their almost total lack of any industrial infrastructure, or ability to build one. At least in the case of the Nazis and Soviets, task one was to rebuild the ability to wage war. The Islamists choose instead to use our own weapons, and their own people as cannon (and daisy-cutter, and bullet) fodder. Whether because this is an inability to develop their own capabilities, or a disinterest isn’t clear, but as Pinker later shows, it could be the former–it is, in its current state, truly a failed culture.

As an example, later in the book (again, the application to the Middle East is mine, not Pinker’s) he points out four modes of human transactions (as earlier described by the anthropologist Alan Fiske):

  • Communal Sharing: no one keeps track of who gets what. This mode applies in families, and occasionally in small tribes. It’s also how Marxists and collectivists (in utter defiance of everything known about human nature) imagine the entire world would work, if the theory were only applied “correctly.”
  • Authority Ranking: Dominant people confiscate stuff from the lower ranks. This is how socialism generally works out whenever it’s actually implemented.
  • Equality Matching: People keep track of who gave what, but there is no time value to the transaction (you can repay me in a year or a day, but there is no penalty for delay), and the value of items is fixed in time and space. This works for ritual exchanges, such as trading rings in the Pacific islands, but it’s hard to build a modern economy with it. The giver may often end up with the same item that she gave someone else earlier. As Pinker points out, this may actually happen with Christmas fruitcakes (the theory being that, like the theory that there’s only one electron in the universe that’s simply very busy, there’s only one fruitcake, passed on from person to person every year). Anthropologists will note that this is most common in hunter-gatherer cultures, and being almost literally tit for tat, it’s probably the economic model that’s most natural and comfortable for us, having evolved to it. It appears to be at the core of our intuitive economics notions (which is why it’s important to have good economics education in schools, to overcome this false intuition).
  • Finally, we have the mode called Market Pricing, which is the basis of modern capitalism, and indeed modern life itself.

The latter requires a much more sophisticated knowledge of economics, and complex institutions such as monetary systems, futures markets, written enforceable contracts, credit, and interest (that is, the recognition that not only time is money, but that money held over a period of time is additional money). It also overturns the intuitive notion (to which Marx fell prey) of the labor theory of value, and indeed the very notion of objective, unchanging value (on which the Equality Matching mode is fundamentally dependent).

The Arabs and Muslims have a problem. Their economies are based on a combination of Community Sharing (among clans) and Authority Ranking (of which Saddam Hussein’s regime was an exemplar). Further, their religion, to all extents and purposes, makes market pricing illegal, because the Koran prohibits the collection of interest, thus not recognizing the time value of money. It’s impossible to run a market economy without allowing interest (and, in fact, recognizing this, some Arab states have come up with elaborate schemes to collect it without admitting that they are).

Of course, the Bible has strictures on usury (or interest). In fact, for that reason, only Jews were allowed to be bankers throughout much of history, and the fact that they were perceived to be earning money by using the funds of honest Christians contributed to the historical enmity against them. But few in the post-reformation West take the Bible literally on this particular score (though it survives in the form of some states’ anti-usury laws, which restrict interest rates, recognizing that some interest is essential but still revealing a natural bias against a perceived “unfair” amount).

Thus, while we are indeed dealing with a totalitarian ideology determined to ultimately rule the world, and have all live under its strictures or die, ironically, until Islam is similarly reformed to reflect economic reality, our new totalitarian enemy will never be the threat that the Nazis and Soviets were. And of course, in the wake of such a reform, they would likely stop trying to murder us and take over the world, because it’s all of a piece.

This is not to say, of course, that the threat is not dangerous–what happened two years ago this coming Thursday gives the lie to that. And as we saw on that sunny September morning, they can be very effective even when wielding our weapons (in fact, much more so than when they restrict themselvse to their own). We should be very thankful that they finally got our attention before they got their hands on the really good stuff, and it’s our ongoing responsibility, now that we see them for what they are, that we continue to keep it from them.

One more point, just to preempt any silly notions that the situation is symmetrical, and that we are the new totalitarians, and want to rule the world, and crush it beneath our GI army boots, and tie up the oppressed, force Big Macs down everyone’s throat, prop their eyelids open with toothpicks and make them watch Britney polish Madonna’s tonsils with her tongue.

We don’t oppose them for their beliefs, except to the degree that their beliefs require that they kill us for ours. We don’t want to make everyone Christian, or Jewish. We don’t want to enslave or kill people because they don’t worship the right god, or wear the right clothes, or avoid being raped. If we have an ideology, it’s an anti-ideology–a belief that ideologies have murdered millions in the past century, and that we are going to do whatever we must to prevent more murders of innocents. The “group of people” who we may have to kill are not a group in the sense of race, or class, or even religion, and they place themselves in the group by their beliefs and behavior, not by accidents of birth. We can live with anyone, except people who cannot live with us.

They are in a battle for domination, and rejoice in death–even their own. We are in a battle for own defense, and would prefer that we didn’t need to send our young men and women overseas.

They desire to kill as many innocents as possible–men, women, children, and lack only the means to do so. When they are successful, they ululate in the streets and pass out candy. We desire to kill as few as possible, and only the guilty–those who sit in their caves and palaces and plot mass death. We spend millions of dollars, and risk our own soldiers’ lives to minimize the deaths of innocents, and when, despite out best efforts to prevent it, innocents die, we don’t cheer–we often grieve, and we launch investigations to determine the cause.

Christianity was once a bloodthirsty religion, but it was reformed. So can Islam be.

But Islamism, like its predecessors, is immune to reform. There is no solution, ultimately, except its total defanging, if not eradication.

A Fala Moment

Gumby just gave Arnold a great chance to show what a scumbag the governor is. He shouldn’t demand an apology–he should make a speech like Roosevelt did in his September ’44 address to the Teamsters:

These Republican leaders have not been content with attacks on me, or my wife, or on my sons. No, not content with that, they now include my little dog, Fala. Well, of course, I don’t resent attacks, and my family doesn’t resent attacks, but Fala does resent them. You know, Fala is Scotch, and being a Scottie, as soon as he learned that the Republican fiction writers in Congress and out had concocted a story that I had left him behind on the Aleutian Islands and had sent a destroyer back to find him–at a cost to the taxpayers of two or three, or eight or twenty million dollars–his Scotch soul was furious. He has not been the same dog since. I am accustomed to hearing malicious falsehoods about myself–such as that old, worm-eaten chestnut that I have represented myself as indispensable. But I think I have a right to resent, to object to libelous statements about my dog.

Here, I’ll do it for him:

Guffernor Davis is apparently not content to attack my ideas, or my plans to straighten out the mess in which he has left the formerly great state of Califfournia. I expected him to attack me as a Republican, and to make fun of my mooffy caareer, and my past asss a body builder, but making an issue of the pronunciation of our state, he isss no longer attacking me, but all uff the hardverking immigrants both here, and in thisss wonderful country. I don’t mind so much, but he isss now denigrating not just me, but all of those for whom English is not a native language, but one that we’ve embraced nonetheless bekawss vee know that it isss the vay to get ahead and to make our state and nation even greaaater.

He cannot defend his record, so instead he attacks my and othersss pronunciation asss he continues to raise millionsss from the special interests who have driven our state into a ditch.

It is a tactic of distraction. But I neither ask for, nor expect an apology. It isss in perfect keeping with the past campaign techniques and lies that allowed him to win reelection, despite his obvious and repeated failure as a governor.

Stagnation

I’ve never seen the Pacific off the northern California coast so worthy of its name as it was this weekend. We rented a small cottage a few miles north of Fort Bragg. The place had been chosen for the ad on the web–“Fifty feet from the ocean’s roar.” We should have demanded a refund.

The ocean’s roar was a kitten’s meow. The sea was a lake. Birds skimmed the water smoothly, just a few inches above. On Sunday morning, we watched divers just offshore. It would have been an easy shore dive–there was essentially no surf to fight through and the visibility was probably a record. It appeared more like the leeward side of a Caribbean island than the California north coast.

I’ve visited the Mendocino Headlands many times over the past couple decades. It is almost always windy, chilly (often bone-chillingly so) even in the summer time, and one of the features of them is the spectacular crashing of the waves on the rocks below, unleashing megawatts of power, in complex rhythms that have their sources far across the ocean.

Driving back down to the Bay Area, we were astonished on Sunday to stand on the bluffs and look down at a gull calmly paddling in a cove like a duck in a pond. We could easily see the bottom, usually obscured by foam and detritus stirred up by the churning surf. It was warm, and there was no breeze. The smells of decaying kelp and other vegetation drifted up to us, and it wasn’t the usual pleasant sea smell.

There are two kinds of people who wouldn’t be similarly astonished–long-time residents who have seen it all, and first time visitors, like the couple we saw as we walked back to the car, who had no comprehension of how unusual the conditions were. Only those who, like us, are semi-regular visitors with experience only of the standard conditions, could appreciate them as unique.

In the Caribbean, such ocean conditions would often presage a hurricane. All weekend we wondered what storm perhaps lay ahead, either literally or metaphorically.

In The Nick Of Time

I was in the kitchen, opening a bottle of Merlot purchased the day before at an Anderson Valley winery, when the ruckus started.

Growls erupted out on the deck of our vacation rental, and scuffling, like a dogfight from hades. But it didn’t sound quite like a dog; the growls had a more feral quality to them, deep and primitive.

I ran outside to try to save the steak that I’d left sitting on a table next to the grill, which I was sure was the instigator of the commotion. I didn’t take the time to grab any kind of weapon–I guess I just assumed that my presence would disturb whatever it was. I fully expected to see the ten-dollar rib steak gone when I opened the door.

I saw no sign of what had happened. The steak was still there, apparently undisturbed. I walked out toward the grill, and heard more noises under the deck, and more growling.

Now I recognized the sound. It was the same one that we’d heard occasionally outside our bedroom window in Redondo Beach in the past, in the depths of the night, drowning out the gentle burbling of the artificial stream that runs past it. In the morning I’d go out and find the rocks in it disturbed, strewn around. One night Patricia stuck a flashlight out the window, and saw the masked face, like a nocturnal bandit, which of course was exactly what it was, both then, and now in the yard of the little cottage on the ocean in Westport, California.

Sure enough, I saw it stick its head around the corner of the house. It was a ‘coon. After a while, it disappeared, presumably back to whence it came, perhaps up in the hills across the road. I put the steak on the grill with its mate (“it” referring to the steak, not the ‘coon), and left it, confident that raccoons are smart enough not to mess with a hot charcoal grill.

The actual train of events, and the participants, remains a mystery.

What were the growls about? Were there two of them, fighting over the treat? If so, why not wait until they had the prize in hand (or in jaw)? Were they partners in crime who had a falling out before actually acquiring the booty? Or did we have a secret watchdog, both solicitous of our nutritional and fiscal wellbeing, and indifferent to fresh beef? How, in any case, did the steak (and our dinner) survive?

Further theories are welcomed in comments.

Biting Commentary about Infinity…and Beyond!