Zero to One: Difference between revisions

| text = 🚀 Because globalization and technology are different modes of progress, history shows stretches of both together (roughly 1815–1914), of technology without much globalization (1914–1971), and—since 1971—of intensive globalization alongside relatively narrow technological advance centered on IT. Everyday language about “developed” and “developing” countries implies a technological finish line that others must simply reach, but that framing hides the need for invention. The more useful answer to the future’s central question is that technology matters more than globalization: if China merely doubles energy output with today’s tools, it doubles pollution, and if hundreds of millions of Indian households adopt U.S.-style living with current technology, the environmental damage is catastrophic. For most of human history, societies were static and zero-sum; then, from the steam engine in the 1760s until about 1970, sustained technological progress made the modern world far richer. Expectations in the late 1960s—four-day workweeks, energy too cheap to meter, holidays on the moon—did not arrive; outside computing and communications, our surroundings look surprisingly familiar. The task now is to imagine and build new technologies that make the twenty-first century more peaceful and prosperous than the twentieth. Such breakthroughs usually come from startups—small, mission-driven groups that can do what lone geniuses and large bureaucracies cannot—whether in politics, science, or business. A practical definition follows: a startup is a group you can persuade to pursue a concrete plan to build a different future. In this view, progress is a choice: definite people crafting specific plans that create new value, not an impersonal convergence of global averages. Building those plans inside tight-knit teams is how new technology compounds over decades. ''Positively defined, a startup is the largest group of people you can convince of a plan to build a different future.''

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=== Chapter 2 – Party like it's 1999 ===

🎉 The cleanest way to find a contrarian truth is to start with what everyone believed during the late-1990s internet boom and then examine how those beliefs went wrong; even a basic proposition—companies exist to make money—was suspended as losses were relabeled “investment” and page views trumped profit. The distortions of that bubble didn’t vanish after the crash; they still shape how people think about technology. The wider 1990s were less shiny than nostalgia suggests: the U.S. recession ended in March 1991, unemployment kept rising until July 1992, and the slow shift from manufacturing to services fed public anxiety. The internet’s takeoff began with {{Tooltip|Mosaic}}’s public release in November 1993, then {{Tooltip|Netscape Navigator}} in late 1994; Navigator’s share jumped from ~20% in January 1995 to nearly 80% within a year, enabling an August 1995 IPO. Within five months, Netscape’s stock ran from $28 to $174; {{Tooltip|Yahoo!}} went public in April 1996 at an $848 million valuation, {{Tooltip|Amazon}} in May 1997 at $438 million, and by spring 1998 both had more than quadrupled. The result was a culture where fashion eclipsed fundamentals, and “growth at any cost” felt rational. The antidote is not cynicism but clarity: examine which lessons from the crash became reflexes, and replace them with deliberate plans and sound metrics. Thinking about markets begins by retelling the past accurately so current choices aren’t guided by myths. ''The first step to thinking clearly is to question what we think we know about the past.''