Chris Dixon

Competition is overrated

Your #1 competitor starting out will always be the BACK button, nothing else. – Garry Tan

Suppose you have an idea for a startup, and then do some research only to discover there are already similar products on the market. You become disheartened and wonder if you should abandon your idea.

In fact, the existence of competing products is a meaningful signal, but not necessarily a negative one.  Here are some things to consider.

1) Almost every good idea has already been built. Sometimes new ideas are just ahead of their time. There were probably 50 companies that tried to do viral video sharing before YouTube. Before 2005, when YouTube was founded, relatively few users had broadband and video cameras. YouTube also took advantage of the latest version of Flash that could play videos seamlessly.

Other times existing companies simply didn’t execute well. Google and Facebook launched long after their competitors, but executed incredibly well and focused on the right things. When Google launched, other search engines like Yahoo, Excite, and Lycos were focused on becoming multipurpose “portals” and had de-prioritized search (Yahoo even outsourced their search technology).

2) The fact that other entrepreneurs thought the idea was good enough to build can be a positive signal. They probably went through some kind of vetting process like talking to target users and doing some market research. By launching later, you can piggyback off the work they’ve already done. That said, you do need to be careful not to get sucked into groupthink. For example, many techies follow the dictum “build something you would use yourself,” which leads to a glut of techie-centric products. There are tons Delicious and Digg clones even though it’s not clear those sites have appeal beyond their core techie audience.

3) That other people tried your idea without success could imply it’s a bad idea or simply that the timing or execution was wrong. Distinguishing between these cases is hard and where you should apply serious thought. If you think your competitors executed poorly, you should develop a theory of what they did wrong and how you’ll do better. Group buying had been tried a hundred times, but Groupon was the first to succeed, specifically by using coupons to track sales and by acquiring the local merchants first and then getting users instead of vice versa. If you think your competitor’s timing was off, you should have a thesis about what’s changed to make now the right time. These changes could come in a variety of forms: for example, it could be that users have become more sophisticated, the prices of key inputs have dropped, or that prerequisite technologies have become widely adopted.

Startups are primarly competing against indifference, lack of awareness, and lack of understanding — not other startups. For web startups this means you should worry about users simply not coming to your site, or when they do come, hitting the BACK button.

Builders and extractors

Tim O’Reilly poses a question every entrepreneur and investor should consider: are you creating more value for others than you capture for yourself? Google makes billions of dollars in annual profits, but generates many times that in productivity gains for other people. Having a positive social contribution isn’t limited to non-profit organizations – non-profits just happen to have a zero in the “value capture” column of the ledger. Wall Street stands at the other extreme: boatloads of value capture and very little value creation.

I think of people who aim to create more value than they capture as “builders” and people who don’t as “extractors.” Most entrepreneurs are natural-born builders. They want to create something from nothing and are happy to see the benefits of their labor spill over to others. Sadly, the builder mindset isn’t as widespread among investors. I recently heard a well-known Boston VC say: “There are 15 good deals a year and our job is to try to win those deals” – a statement that epitomizes the passive, extractor mindset. The problem with VC seed programs is they not only fail to enlarge the pie, they actually shrink it by making otherwise fundable companies unfundable through negative signaling.

The good news is there is a large – and growing – class of investors with the builder mindset. Y Combinator and similar mentorship programs are true builders: their startups probably wouldn’t have existed without them (and the founders might have ended up at big companies). There are also lots of angel and seed investors who are builders. A few that come to mind: Ron Conway, Chris Sacca, Mike Maples (Floodgate), Roger Ehrenberg, Keith Rabois, Ken Lehrer, Jeff Clavier, Betaworks, Steve Anderson, and Aydin Senkut. There are also VCs who are builders. Ones that I’ve worked with directly recently include Union Square, True, Bessemer, Khosla, Index, and First Round.

Given that there is a surplus of venture money, entrepreneurs and seed investors now have the luxury of choosing to work with builders and avoid extractors. Hopefully over time this will weed out the extractors.

Pivoting

My Hunch cofounders and I frequently ask ourselves: “If we were to start over today, would we build our product the same way we had so far?” This exercise is meant to counter a number of common cognitive biases, such as:

1. The sunk costs trap.  People tend to overvalue past investments when making forward-looking investment decisions. From the rumors I’ve heard, Joost was a company that fell into the sunk costs trap. In the beginning, their p2p architecture was their main differentiator. Thus they invested a lot in building p2p infrastructure and required users to download a software client. When browser-based web video companies like Hulu and YouTube surpassed them, Joost switched to a browser-based client but still required a special plugin so they could maintain their p2p architecture. In fact, the problem the p2p architecture was solving – reducing bandwidth costs – had, in the meantime, become a secondary basis of competition.  By the time Joost finally discarded the p2p model, it was too late.

2. The Bridge on the River Kwai syndrome.  This is when entrepreneurs fall so in love with their engineering project qua engineering project that they lose site of the larger mission.  Former engineers (like me) are particularly susceptible to this as we often get excited about technology for its own sake. Many products can be built much more quickly and cheaply by settling for good technology plus a bunch of hacks – human editing, partnerships, using 3rd party software – versus creating a perfect technology from scratch. At my last company, SiteAdvisor, we made the decision up front to build a non-perfect system that did 99% of what a much more expensive, “perfect” technological solution would have done.  The software wasn’t always pretty – to the annoyance of some of our engineers – but it worked.

3. Solving the wrong problem. Location-based social networks have been around for years. Foursquare came along just a year ago and has seemingly surpassed its predecessors. The other companies built elaborate infrastructures: e.g they partnered with wireless carriers so that users’ locations could be tracked in the background without having to “check-in”.  Foursquare built a relatively simple app that added some entertaining features like badges and mayorships. It turned out that requiring users to manually check in was not only easier to build but also appealing as users got more control over their privacy. Foursquare’s competitors were solving the wrong problem.

Ask yourself: if you started over today, would you build the same product?  If not, consider significant changes to what you are building. The popular word for this today is “pivoting” and I think it is apropos. You aren’t throwing away what you’ve learned or the good things you’ve built. You are keeping your strong leg grounded and adjusting your weak leg to move in a new direction.

Designing products for single and multiplayer modes

The first million people who bought VCRs bought them before there were any movies available to watch on them. They just wanted to “time shift” TV shows – what we use DVRs for today. Once there were millions of VCR owners it became worthwhile for Hollywood to start selling and renting movies to watch on them. Eventually watching rented movies became the dominant use of VCRs, and time shifting a relatively niche use. Thus, a product that eventually had very strong network effects* got its initial traction from a “standalone use” – where no other VCR owners or complementary products needed to exist.

I was talking to my friend Zach Klein recently who referred to products as having single player and multiplayer modes. I like Zach’s terminology because: 1) it is borrowed from video games where a lot of thought has gone into making these modes compelling in distinct ways, 2) the word “mode” reminds us that people can switch from moment to moment – that even when a product is primarily social or networked and has reached critical mass it might still be useful to offer a single player mode.

Many products that we think of as strictly multiplayer also have single player modes. In many cases this single player mode helped adoption in the early stages when the network effects were not yet strong. For example, you could use Flickr just to store photos privately if you wanted to. I thought of Foursquare as strictly multiplayer until my Hunch cofounder Tom Pinckney told me he uses it solely to keep track of restaurants he’s gone to so he’ll remember which ones to go back to. For some products it’s really hard to imagine single player modes. This is true of pure communication products like Skype and perhaps also social networks like Facebook (although apps like games seem to have provided single player modes for Facebook).

* Products with so-called networks effects get more valuable when more people use them.  Famous examples are telephones and social networks.  Network effects can be your friend or your enemy depending on whether your product has reached critical mass.  Getting to critical mass in network effect markets is sometimes called overcoming the “chicken and egg problem.”  More here.

Inside versus outside financings: the nightclub effect

At some point in the life of a venture-backed startup there typically arises a choice between doing an inside round, where the existing investors lead the new financing, or an outside round, where new investors lead the new financing. At this point interesting game-theoretic dynamics arise among management, existing investors, and prospective new investors.

If the company made the mistake of including big VCs in their seed round, they’ll face this situation raising their Series A.  If the company was smart and only included true seed investors in their initial round, they won’t face this issue until their Series B.

Here’s a typical situation. Say the startup raised a Series A at a $15M post-money valuation and is doing pretty well. The CEO offers the existing VCs the option of leading an inside round but the insiders are lukewarm and suggest the CEO go out to test the financing market.  The CEO does so and gets offers from top-tier VCs to invest at a significant step up, say, $30M pre. The insiders who previously didn’t want to do an inside round are suddenly really excited about the company because they see that other VCs are really excited about the company.

This is what I call the nightclub effect*. You think your date isn’t that attractive until you bring him/her to a nightclub and everyone in the club hits on him/her. Consequently, you now think your date is really attractive.

Now the inside investors have 3 choices:  1) Lead the financing themselves. This makes the CEO look like a jerk that used the outsiders as stalking horses. It might also prevent the company from getting a helpful, new VC involved. 2) Do pro-rata (normally defined as: X% of round where X is the % ownership prior to round).  This is theoretically the best choice, although often in real life the math doesn’t work since a top-tier new VC will demand owning 15-20% of the company which is often impossible without raising a far bigger round than the company needs. (When you see head-scratchingly large Series B rounds, this is often the cause). 3) Do less than pro-rata. VCs hate this because they view pro-rata as an option they paid for and especially when the company is “hot” they want to exercise that right. The only way to get them down in this case is for management to wage an all out war to force them to. This can get quite ugly.

I’ve come to think that the best solution to this is to get the insiders to explicitly commit ahead of time to either leading the round or being willing to back down from their pro-rata rights for the right new investor. This lets the CEO go out and find new investors in good faith without using them as stalking horses and without wasting everyone’s time.

* don’t miss @peretti’s response.

Steve Jobs single-handedly restructured the mobile industry

With the introduction of the iPhone, Steve Jobs achieved something that might be unique in the history of business: he single-handedly upended the power structure of a major industry.  In the US, before the iPhone, the carriers (Verizon, AT&T, Sprint, T-Mobile) had an ironclad grip on the rest of the value chain – particularly, handset makers and app makers.

Ask anyone who ran or invested in a mobile app startup pre-iPhone (I invested in one myself). Since the carriers had all the power, getting any distribution (which usually meant getting on the handset “deck”) meant doing a business development deal with the carriers. Business development in this case meant finding the right people at those companies, sending them iPods, taking them to baseball games, and basically figuring out ways to convince them to work with you instead of the 5,000 other people sending them iPods and baseball tickets.  The basis of competition was salesmanship and capital, not innovation or quality.

The carriers had so much power because consumers made their purchasing decisions by choosing a carrier first and a handset second. Post-iPhone, tens of millions of people started choosing handsets over carriers. People like me suffer through AT&T’s poor service and aggressive pricing because I love the iPhone so much.

I’ve talked to a number of mobile app startups lately who say their former contacts at the carriers are shell shocked: no one is knocking on their doors anymore. I guess they have to buy their own iPods and baseball tickets now.

Yes, Apple has rejected some apps for seemingly arbtrary or selfish reasons and imposed aggressive controls on developers. But the iPhone also paved the way for Android and a new wave of handset development. The people griping about Apple’s “closed system” are generally people who are new to the industry and didn’t realize how bad it was before.

There are three New York Cities

There are roughly three New Yorks.

There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and turbulence as natural and inevitable.

Second, there is the New York of the commuter—the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night.

Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these three trembling cities the greatest is the last—the city of final destination, the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York’s high-strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness; natives give it solidity and continuity; but the settlers give it passion. And whether it is a farmer arriving from Italy to set up a small grocery store in a slum, or a young girl arriving from a small town in Mississippi to escape the indignity of being observed by her neighbors, or a boy arriving from the Corn Belt with a manuscript in his suitcase and a pain in his heart, it makes no difference: each embraces New York with the intense excitement of first love, each absorbs New York with the fresh eyes of an adventurer, each generates heat and light to dwarf the Consolidated Edison Company.

Here is New York, E. B. White, 1949

Money managers should pay the same tax rates as everyone else

Steven Schwarzman is the CEO of the Blackstone Group, a multi-billion dollar money management firm. He is worth billions of dollars, and isn’t afraid to spend his money lavishly:

He often spends $3,000 for a weekend of food for Mr. Schwarzman and his wife, including stone crabs that cost $400, or $40 per claw.

Mr Schwarzman pays a lower tax rate than police officers, firefighters, soldiers, doctors, and teachers. This is the due to the fact that money managers’ “carry fees” are treated as capital gains instead of ordinary income.

Last week the House passed a bill that would partly close this loophole. Sadly, with few exceptions, VC’s are lobbying against this bill, arguing it would hurt innovation, small businesses, and lots of other good stuff.  As one prominent VC recently said:

[H]aving those higher taxes be levied against venture capital investments in small businesses strikes me as self-defeating when it is the single largest job growth area.

The argument seems to be that this tax will hurt small businesses. The phrase “small business” is chosen deliberately by VC lobbyists: most people, when they hear it, think of hard working immigrants pursuing the American Dream. In reality, the only thing this bill will hurt are money managers. As Fred Wilson says:

Changing the taxation of the managers will not reduce the amount of capital going to productive areas. The sources of the capital; wealthy families, endowments, pension funds, and the like, will still put the capital in the places where they will get the highest after tax return. And these sources of capital, if they are tax payers, will still get capital gains treatment on their investments in hedge funds, buyouts, and venture capital. And the fund managers will still have to compete with each other to get access to that capital and their incentives will still be to produce the highest returns they can produce, regardless of whether they are paying capital gains or ordinary income on their fees.

As Fred also argues, removing this tax break will encourage more people to go into jobs that produce tangible goods:

We have witnessed financial services (think asset management, hedge funds, buyout funds, private equity, and venture capital) grow as a percentage of GNP for the past thirty years. The best and brightest don’t go into engineering, science, manufacturing, general management, or entrepreneurship, they go to wall street where they will get paid more. And on top of that, we have been giving these jobs a tax break. That seems like bad policy. If we force hedge funds and the like to compete for talent on a more level playing field, then maybe we’ll see our best and brightest minds go to more productive activities than moving money around and taking a cut of the action.

Fred is absolutely correct. For me, though, removing this loophole just comes down to basic fairness. A fireman who runs into burning buildings shouldn’t pay a higher tax rate than a financier sunbathing on a yacht eating $400 crabs.