David Heinemeier Hansson (DHH) on Software Craft, Flow, Winning Le Mans and Fighting Wokeness

Embrace the journey of change; your past opinions don't define your future growth.

I used to absolutely hate you. There was a time when I hated DHS online, and I hated your guts—all of it. You are an opinionated person, and I mean that's fair; it's fair to have disagreements. What matters to us more than anything else in this business is independence. We want to be able to do whatever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want. The only kind of "investment" we ever took was a secondary round from Jeff Bezos. It was just enough to give us the financial kahunas to say, "[ __ ] all the money." If you want the best odds of getting a million dollars, it's not a VC ticket; it just isn't.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to a very, very special episode of the R and AM show. We have a very, very special guest. You know, I often say this person needs no introduction, but this person truly does not need an introduction. I just know him, like everyone else, by his initials. It is a pleasure to have the one and only DHH. For those of you who don't know him, this will do no justice to his body of work, but I'll highlight some of the key points: David Heinemeier Hansson, creator of Ruby on Rails, founder of 37signals, bestselling writer, and a Leemon winner. I think you've been raising for 10 years, and we will get into all that. Honestly, in my view, he is one of the most interesting people in tech.

David, first of all, thank you so much for coming on the show.

Thank you for having me. This is great to be here.

You're a bit different because usually when people come on the show, I have the kind of excitement feel about it, like, "I've been a big fan of you forever, blah blah blah." But you are different. You are the first guest we have had where I start off by saying, "I used to absolutely hate you." There was a time when I hated DHS online; I hated your guts. And just for the record, if it's not obvious, I'm one of D's maybe biggest fans now. There’s a lot of journey in there to unpack.

To start off with, I was trying to think back as to why I disliked you. I think it is probably fair to say you are an opinionated person online. I'm just kind of curious: where does that come from? Is that a Danish thing? Where does it come from? And then I'm going to get into some of the stuff I really used to disagree with you on.

Yeah, I mean, you're kind to say opinionated person. A lot of people would say opinionated bastard. I don't think it's a particularly Danish thing because I moved to the United States in 2005, spent 15 years there, then moved back to Denmark for three years over the pandemic. I really got reacquainted with the Danish spirit, which is usually very mild-mannered. I'm not going to say bland, but it's restrained. So, I don't know where this DNA mutation came in along the way in the lineage, but somehow it got inserted into me.

Yeah, I've always cared deeply about the things that I care about. Let's put it like that. I don't care about everything, but I do care about perhaps too many things. The things I really get into, I usually get quite passionate about. Although, maybe we'll talk about that later, I have actually—I mean, I was going to say backtracked, and I think that is fair. I have cared deeply about things from a certain angle, and then as time passes, I realize, "You know what? There are other vantage points you can look at that issue," or that the vantage point I used to have was just flat-out wrong.

So, I think this is one of the joyous things of having been online for what is that going to be? 25 years? Geez, almost 30 years now. I was working with the internet all the way back from 1995, and before that, I was involved with BBSs and all of that stuff. So, I just have a huge body of work from being online for that long. It's hilarious that I can go back and look at some of the things I wrote in 2004, and sometimes I'll go, "Damn it, I wish I could still write like that." I used to be far more succinct in 2004; I would write like three or four paragraphs, boom, that's a post out the door. Now I'm a little more long-winded. But other times, I go back to 2004 and think, "What is this?"

Yeah, so this is just one of the joys of being online long enough and living long enough, to some extent, that you get to see some of your predictions or passions pan out—that they're still true, they're still applicable, and then other...

=> 00:05:01

The longer you stay in the game, the more you realize that not all predictions age well, but the craft of honest expression never goes out of style.

I have been working with the internet for almost 30 years now, starting back in 1995. Before that, I was involved with BBSs and all of that stuff. As a result, I have a huge body of work from being online for that long. It's quite hilarious that I can look back at some of my writings from 2004 and sometimes think, "Damn it, I wish I could still write like that." I used to be far more succinct back then; I could write three to four paragraphs and boom, that was a post out the door. Now, I find myself being a little more longwinded. However, there are times when I revisit my work from 2004 and wonder, "What is this?"

This experience is one of the joys of being online long enough and living long enough to see some of your predictions or passions pan out. Some of them are still true and relevant, while others, well, they didn't age as well. Unlike you, I have written thousands of tweets, and I can confidently say that they have all been correct.

I want to talk about why I have become such a big fan of yours over the years. But first, let’s discuss something we disagreed on. I want to bring up a post that I used to really hate you for, which is from September 23, 2010, where you stated, "Facebook is not worth 33 billion." Guess what, David? You were right, because as of now, Facebook (Meta) is worth approximately $9793780460.

For a while, I actually held this against you, which I realize is quite dumb of me. However, I think there are a few things I appreciate now that I’ve gotten older. One is the body of work you have created. As we age, we start to appreciate craft and beautiful work, and I believe a lot of what you do embodies that. I want to acknowledge that.

Secondly, I really admire people who stick to their guns, and you are one of those individuals. In a world where we are often afraid to say what we really think, you have consistently expressed your opinions without fear. Back then, a different version of you might have thought, "If I write this, will a bunch of VCs get mad at me? Will it stop some future deal?" But you chose to write what you believed in instead.

Lastly, I want to borrow a metaphor from you or someone else. It reminds me of the scene in Game of Thrones where Jon Snow comes and says, "Hey, I don't know why you guys are fighting; these white walkers are coming from the north." Many of us who care about technology, craft, and building things have had to find each other. For a while, I did hold my disagreement against you, so I owe you an apology.

I think it’s fair to have disagreements. What I find interesting about that particular post is that you are not the only person who remembers it as a significant piece from that era. It was titillatingly angering to VCs, and I think the reason it struck a nerve is that it tapped into the fundamental insecurity of VCs. They often wonder if the things they invest in are actually worth what they believe or promote them to be worth.

In that post, I analyzed why it was so controversial. I predicted a certain value for Facebook that did not pan out as expected; in fact, Facebook is worth 20 times what I said they were worth back then. However, I think my point still stands. The specific example I provided was about minority investments and how they can create inflated valuations based on the last money in.

In Facebook's case, it turned out to be a good investment, particularly the one made by Microsoft, which was the basis for my article. But if you look at what has happened in the last two years, it validates the fundamental point I made. Every VC who invested in Q4 of 2021 is now upside down or underwater. Most of those investments are either going to zero or are in a bad position.

=> 00:09:04

Investing in tech is a gamble; most bets are losing ones, and the real winners are the outliers. Instead of chasing VC hype, focus on building sustainable businesses that generate real profits.

In the discussion about minority investments, there is a significant observation regarding how valuations work. When you invest a certain amount of money for a small percentage of a company, that initial investment can suddenly become worth a hundred times more. This is primarily because valuations are often based on the last money in. However, I found this concept to be somewhat fishy and potentially gamed. While in the case of Facebook, the investment made by Microsoft was indeed a good one, it raises questions about the overall validity of such valuations.

Looking at the last two years, it becomes evident that many venture capitalists (VCs) who invested in Q4 of 2021 are now upside down and underwater. Most of those investments are either heading towards zero or are worth only a tenth of their original value. Even the best investments from that period are now valued at half of what they once were, with many worth nothing at all. This situation underscores the point I was making.

I came across a term from a book about poker called resulting. This concept refers to the idea that if you assess whether you made the right prediction based on the outcome rather than the fundamental odds, you are resulting. For instance, in poker, if you know there is a 27% chance of winning with a certain hand, the decision to play that hand should not be judged solely on the outcome. If a player wins despite having only a 2% chance, it is not an amazing play but rather a lucky play. This analogy applies to the Facebook valuation, which was an outlier in the VC industry.

The VC industry is fundamentally built on a small number of outliers—perhaps 10 or 20 companies—that have paid for all the rest, as everything else has generally been negative. My broader argument suggests that if we continue to rely solely on VC funding in tech, we risk becoming impoverished. We need to explore other types of companies that are not solely dependent on VC funding. While I do not harbor a complete vendetta against VC, I do have a grudge stemming from my experiences during the bust, particularly as I was involved with a couple of VC-funded companies. The memories of having to fire people and lay them off due to investments based on nothing are still fresh.

In contrast, I have over 20 years of experience in selling software for more than it costs to produce, allowing me to keep the difference. This approach has proven to be a viable way to build wealth, which is often dismissed in VC discussions as a lifestyle business. While it may be labeled as such, it has afforded us hundreds of millions of dollars in profits. This lifestyle allows me to do whatever I want, live wherever I choose, and buy what I desire—indeed, it is a lifestyle worth celebrating.

Reflecting on the past, it is fascinating to see how our debates about funding methods seem trivial compared to the larger threats that have emerged. Whether it’s government regulation, wokeness, or other powerful forces, these issues overshadow our discussions about the valuation of companies like Facebook. Ultimately, if we are facing existential threats, the value of Facebook being worth $33 billion becomes irrelevant.

As I turn 40, I find value in nurturing a long-term grudge, as it can define one's perspective. I appreciate that others share similar sentiments, and I think of figures like DHH, who has had his own notable moments in tech discourse, akin to Commander Taco of Slashdot fame, who wrote that famous review about the iPod. Such reflections remind us of the complexities and nuances within the tech industry and the broader implications of our discussions.

=> 00:12:53

Independence over funding: choosing freedom to innovate without asking for permission.

The discussion revolves around the themes of getting banned and wokeness infiltrating everything. The speaker reflects on their experiences, humorously noting, "I just put him on the Christmas list; strike that off," referring to someone named DHH who is no longer on their list. They mention turning 40 and express a belief that nurturing a long-term grudge is good for you, recommending it to everyone as it kind of defines you.

The speaker expresses happiness about having a grudge and compares DHH to Commander Taco of Slashdot, referencing a famous iPod review where DHH criticized the device's lack of wireless capability and storage. They acknowledge that DHH is right about some things but also want to delve into the wokeness issues.

The speaker highlights the contrast between their world in Silicon Valley VC and the experiences of DHH and Jason, particularly regarding wealth. They find it interesting that DHH and Jason are unafraid to talk about their wealth. They ponder an alternative timeline where DHH and Jason could have raised tens of millions of dollars, participated in a series of funding rounds, and become prominent figures in tech, but they chose to avoid that path.

The speaker notes that by 2005-2006, they had 44 VCs reach out for introductions or investment discussions, but they consistently said no, influenced by the fresh memory of the dot-com bust. Both DHH and Jason had previously worked at VC-funded companies in the late '90s and early 2000s, which shaped their perspective on the potential pitfalls of such funding. They recognized that while there are success stories, the majority of VC-backed companies do not achieve the home run billion-dollar unicorn experience.

DHH and Jason shared a vision that prioritized independence above all else. They wanted the freedom to pursue their ideas without needing to ask for permission. The speaker acknowledges that this desire for independence might sound reckless, but they emphasize that they consider their actions diligently, even if they sometimes act impulsively on social media.

They express a strong aversion to the idea of seeking permission, stating, "I am allergic to the idea of asking anyone for permission of anything." They have never had a board and only accepted a secondary round of investment from Jeff Bezos, which provided them with enough financial security to say, “[ __ ] all the money.” This decision was made during a time when they had modest bank accounts and faced the temptation of accepting a large check from VCs. Ultimately, they chose to maintain their independence, ensuring that if things went awry, they wouldn't be overly concerned about financial repercussions.

=> 00:16:44

True financial freedom comes when you no longer worry about the basics, allowing you to pursue your vision without compromise.

Straight from Jason Ry, no money went into the company; it was just enough to give us the financial courage to just say, "[__] all the money." This was the temptation when the VCs first showed up at our door in 2005. At that time, I didn't have any money; we weren't serial entrepreneurs, and we didn't have home runs in the bank already. We had very modest bank accounts. So when someone shows up and says, "Hey, do you want a check for $20 million?" technically, it's not your money; it goes into the company. However, it still feels like your money, and the temptation was there absolutely.

Then we did the deal with Bezos, who gave us just enough in that bank account that we thought, "You know what? If this is going to blow up in smoke, we're not going to be worried about rent." That gave us such a degree of confidence to go the distance, to go the full 20 years, as it has been almost since then, without being tempted to go into this arrangement and without falling into another arrangement where we have to ask for permission. This is why I'm so in love with the internet; this is why I think the web is the greatest computing platform of all time. This is also why I'm so incensed about the App Store bureaucracies.

I think your freedom point is so valid. Someone I think about a lot these days is Richard Stallman. When I was growing up, I used to find him too much of an ideologue; I used to say, "This guy is way too hardcore." I grew up at Microsoft, on the opposing team. However, now, as I sort of inhabit crypto, I see it as a spiritual successor to some of the values that he had. I kind of like someone who stands by their values out here on the extreme because I think society needs people like that who are kind of different.

Now, I want to touch on something which I think is very interesting about you. By the way, just for everyone in the audience, this is the first time David and I are actually meeting over audio-visual media. We’ve kind of texted a little bit, but I feel like I know you just from your writing. You talk about wealth, and one thing I found very interesting and refreshing about you is that you talk about your wealth in a way that is relatable. You drive cars and post about things which a lot of people can afford. The reason I find that refreshing is that in Silicon Valley, obviously, people have enormous wealth—not just Elon or Bezos, but people with $10 million. Yet, there’s kind of a code about not talking about things that you can actually afford, at least on Twitter. But you do, and I’m curious about why you do that and what you have learned from it.

I think it’s a great point, and there are several aspects to it. One is that I want to demystify it for two reasons. The most important reason for me is that whenever I talk to entrepreneurs, I try to convince them not to take VC money. I talk about the wealth ladder. The next time you do that, let me meet them so I can convince them. Like, "This is the guy who wrote this blog post; you want to take advice from this guy." Yes, actually, that blog post will be relevant to my point.

The wealth ladder for me is something I’ve stepped through. I grew up working class in Denmark, which is a great place to grow up working class, by the way. I can totally recommend it if you’re going to be working class anywhere; Denmark hits the top of the list. You don’t have the same level of deprivation that you have in a lot of other countries. If you grow up like that, the socially democratic state affords you some opportunities that you perhaps wouldn’t have access to otherwise.

But once you get past that, what is the thing that’s going to change your life financially as an entrepreneur? In my opinion, it’s to step from $0 in your bank account to $1 million. I’m just picking a million; we could adjust for inflation as you see fit. As soon as you no longer have to worry about the basics of maintaining life—like rent and groceries—you can go to whatever restaurant you want. You can even buy a nice watch or a nice car; you can do those things.

=> 00:20:14

Financial freedom starts when you no longer worry about the basics; after that, it's about finding joy in what you love, not just chasing the next big thing.

In many countries, especially those with a socially Democratic State, individuals are afforded certain opportunities that they might not have access to otherwise. However, once you move past the basics of life, the key factor that can change your financial situation as an entrepreneur is the ability to transition from having $0 in your bank account to $1 million. This figure is somewhat arbitrary; you could adjust it for inflation as needed.

Once you reach a point where you no longer have to worry about essentials—such as rent and groceries—and can dine at any restaurant you choose, or purchase a nice watch or car, you have essentially achieved 90% of all the utility that money can provide. There remains a final 10%, which can lead to some truly exhilarating experiences. I believe it's important to have aspirations for unique experiences. For instance, one of the most exotic things I have done is race cars. This activity is incredibly expensive and, unlike buying a fancy watch that retains value, racing cars results in 100% depreciation of the money spent. However, the thrill and enjoyment of that experience make it worthwhile, and I would do it all over again.

As an entrepreneur, it is crucial to focus on optimizing your odds for achieving that first milestone on the wealth ladder. The goal should be to improve your chances of reaching that $1 million mark. However, the strategies for achieving this are often in direct opposition to those needed for aiming for a unicorn valuation. If your goal is to reach unicorn status, you should definitely engage with venture capitalists (VCs) and embrace that path, as it is likely the best route to take. Most successful companies that we recognize today have been VC funded.

Nonetheless, if your objective is to maximize your chances of earning a million dollars, pursuing a VC route is not the most effective strategy. There are far more viable paths available, especially for software builders, that do not require going through the VC system. I want to emphasize that I have surpassed that initial financial milestone quite some time ago. While it is enjoyable to purchase nice things, I still find myself dedicating eight hours of my day to writing software. This reflects my belief that, despite the allure of material possessions, the best things in life are free, and the second-best things can be quite expensive.

I appreciate the quote attributed to Coco Chanel: "The best things in life are free." In my life, the activities that bring me the most joy revolve around my work—being present, engaging in the arena, writing, and creating software. Additionally, spending time with family is invaluable and accessible to many.

On another note, I find it hypocritical and somewhat nauseating when individuals who are worth hundreds of millions of dollars walk around in hoodies, pretending to be the same as a software engineer. This pretense is misleading; they are not the same. It is disingenuous to act as if they are merely modern-day kings ruling over a vast feudal network while claiming equality. This attitude, prevalent in Silicon Valley culture, has contributed to the rise of wokeness and the notion that we are all the same and that success is equally achievable for everyone. This culture has ingrained in people the idea that they should work 18 hours a day, seven days a week, glorifying the complete merger of life and work.

=> 00:24:23

Silicon Valley's culture of egalitarianism masks a deeper truth: the relentless grind of work and the manipulation of language can distort genuine aspirations for equality into a hollow performance.

You're not the same; stop goddamn pretending you're a modern-day king ruling over a vast feudal network. You're pretending that you're the same because there's some social credit in that; there are some social niceties in that. However, to me, those are very short-term. I will actually point to that particular part of Silicon Valley culture as integral to the rise of wokeness. It has contributed to this idea that we're all the same, that it's actually all egalitarian, and that it's all equally achievable.

I’m not saying you—I mean Silicon Valley culture at large here. Silicon Valley culture put this into the minds of people, and then they made these people show up to work for 18 hours a day, seven days a week, glorifying the complete merger of life and work. Where the hell else are people going to express their political aspirations or actually take all this egalitarian talk as fair value and start advocating for it? I think these things are linked.

This might be a good way to kind of segment the discussion because I’ve followed folks for a long while. I was surprised when, a couple of years ago—maybe during the peak wokeness era—we kind of began to see that era behind us. You folks are a little bit of a Kura, as Jon Stewart says, our own wokeness. I think the whole press era pulled a lot of people together. I’m curious if you think about that timeline; what was sort of the first inclination you had that, hey, there’s something happening even within your own company or from the inquiries you were getting? What did you sort of understand or learn from the process you went through?

For me, this was one of the defining episodes of my career, and I’m so grateful, first of all, to have had the pleasure—in hindsight—to go through it. It was not fun for two weeks, but a lot of intellectual pleasures are not fun; they’re the opposite of fun, and that’s why they become so meaningful. This was one of those things where it happened slowly, then all of a sudden. I had certainly been politically speaking on the left. As I said, I grew up in Denmark and have a great affinity for the socially democratic state that Denmark has been able to build. I lived under the misconception for a long time that America could import a lot of that. Why can’t America have, whatever, quote-unquote, free healthcare or state-run healthcare?

I was sympathetic to a lot of the issues that percolate on the left for a long time, and I thought that’s what we were going for. I thought, hey, let’s lift people up; let’s make sure everyone has equal opportunity to thrive and so forth. Then slowly, from 2016 forward, I started smelling things that weren’t quite right. I had that sense that there’s something here that’s not quite right; there are things brewing that I don’t fully understand, and I don’t think it’s good.

Now, this whole Trump thing was clearly an accelerant or an activator for all of this stuff. I was as dismayed in some ways as others were at the time, thinking, oh my God, like norms and all the things. But then it started getting weirder and weirder really quickly, especially with all the talk about DEI. When I first heard that term, I thought, yes, of course, why wouldn’t we want diversity? Why wouldn’t we want equality? But that’s not the same thing at all; it’s actually the direct opposite.

Then there’s inclusion, which also sounds nice. Why wouldn’t we want those things? Slowly, you realize, you know what? This is a cover operation. It’s a cover operation where we take words that most people have a positive affinity for and then we just flip them. We make them mean something else, and by the time you realize what the words actually mean, you’re knee-deep in [ ]. The [ ] was sort of quota-based hiring and all the nonsense that fell from the idea that unless we have a demographically statistical distribution within our little company, that’s evidence of discrimination, if not racism, if not all these other things.

As we step through this and as things accelerate, I go like, whoa, whoa, wait a minute; I’m not bored with this. What are we doing here?

=> 00:28:36

When words lose their true meaning, you realize the game is rigged.

The discussion begins with the notion of inclusion, which initially sounds appealing. The question arises: Why wouldn't we want those things? However, as one delves deeper, it becomes apparent that this is a cover operation. It involves taking words that most people have a positive affinity for and flipping their meanings. By the time individuals realize what these words actually signify, they find themselves knee-deep in a situation that resembles quota-based hiring and other related nonsense. The idea is that unless a company maintains a demographically statistical distribution, it is seen as evidence of discrimination, if not outright racism.

As events unfold, the speaker expresses a growing discomfort: “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. I'm not on board with this. What are we doing here?” A pivotal moment occurs when a customer inquires whether a particular service is safe for conservatives. The speaker reflects on their initial confusion regarding the question, noting that some individuals within the company believed they understood its implications. They assumed the answer had to be a resounding “Absolutely not,” suggesting that conservatives are inherently violent and should be denied service based solely on their political affiliation. This stance was a significant turning point for the speaker, who felt compelled to voice their disagreement: “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I am not on board with this at all.”

The realization of what Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) truly entails became increasingly clear to the speaker. They describe it as a complete dead-end and a bad detour. Observing that everyone around them was reciting the same phrases, the speaker recalls a post from 2020 summarizing statements from the CEOs of 140 major public companies, all echoing the mantra: “There’s more work to be done.” This repetition led the speaker to conclude that this phenomenon is not merely a political movement but rather a religious movement. It is not about building coalitions or ensuring fairness; it is fundamentally a power grab and a grift.

As the speaker reflects on the situation, they note that many key figures involved in this movement have since been exposed as con men or grifters. Initially, the speaker lacked the intellectual background to fully understand the implications of DEI. However, upon researching the intellectual foundations of wokeness and DEI, including concepts like centering the margins and the Paradox of Tolerance, they began to grasp the historical context. This body of work can be traced back to at least the 1960s, if not earlier.

The speaker expresses a sense of awe at the intellectual machinery that has been employed to shape the current cultural landscape, stating: “Do you know what? Marx would be proud.” They acknowledge the impressive achievement of capturing the cultural moment of not just the country but the entire Western world, all stemming from plans laid down decades ago. However, they also caution that this trajectory is ultimately a dead end, warning that if allowed to reach its logical conclusions, it could lead to dire consequences for everyone involved.

In a parallel reflection, another individual shares their perspective on DEI, noting that their experience growing up in India was vastly different. DEI was not a concept there, although some similar ideas existed regarding reservations. Upon arriving in the West, they initially experienced a sense of normalcy in their professional life, believing that hard work and the right qualifications would lead to success. They had spent their career in computer science and tech companies, adhering to the belief that diligence would yield the desired outcomes.

=> 00:32:47

Merit should always be the priority in hiring, not checking boxes for diversity; true inclusivity means valuing individual contributions over demographics.

Perspective on Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI)

Did you know that some starts out somewhat similar to Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI)? Both Sham and I grew up in India, where DEI was not a thing. There were other systems, like reservations, but DEI, as we know it today, was absent. When we came here, it felt like business as usual; we could have normal jobs, go to work, and climb the career ladder, getting promoted along the way.

For me, particularly, I always believed that if you worked really hard and obtained the right degrees—having studied computer science and worked in tech companies all my life—that would be enough. Then, this DEI concept emerged, and while the theory behind it sounds reasonable—of course, we want inclusivity; why would you exclude anybody?—I began to see the side effects. I started questioning how hiring decisions were being made. Would people think of me as just a DEI candidate? I found that notion disheartening. I didn't want to be seen as a checkbox that had been ticked off; I wanted to be recognized for my viewpoint and feel like I truly belonged at the table.

You would not believe the number of times I have been invited to panels or offered board seats simply because, as they put it, "we're looking for a woman." Hearing that was frustrating, as it highlighted the very issue I was concerned about. It's strange that this is the hill our industry has chosen to die on over the last couple of years. This focus on DEI seems to undermine all the progress we've made, as it shifts the emphasis away from merit.

I was particularly confused when terms like "color blindness" became taboo. If we look back at figures like Martin Luther King, who did the heavy lifting for civil rights in the United States, they emphasized the content of your character over the color of your skin. Now, we find ourselves in a situation where, if discrepancies in outcomes exist—whether in terms of gender, race, or other demographics—some argue we must use discrimination, if not outright racism, to fix it. This is a twisted logic that I cannot support.

If the "E" in DEI stood for equality of opportunity rather than equity, which implies the same outcome for everyone, then I could get behind that. We should want the best candidate to get the job or promotion in all scenarios. However, we've strayed so far down this path that, particularly in tech companies, the lack of equal distribution of gender or race leads some to conclude that discrimination must be the cause.

This is where the concept of "blank-sism" comes into play, suggesting that everyone has the same background and opportunities. But that's simply not true. By the time candidates reach the hiring stage, there is a wide discrepancy in credentials, IQ, experience, and more. Thomas Sowell often points out that even within the same family, you cannot guarantee the same outcomes. People can grow up under identical conditions and still have vastly different experiences.

Thus, it leads to a fundamental misunderstanding: the belief that everyone who shows up for an interview has essentially the same qualifications. If we don't see the demographic percentages we desire, it is wrongly interpreted as evidence of discrimination. This misinterpretation is a cardinal sin of the DEI initiatives that have infiltrated Corporate America, particularly in tech. While I express these criticisms, I find myself becoming increasingly critical of the current state of DEI.

=> 00:36:59

Equity of outcomes is a myth; even siblings raised in the same household can turn out vastly different. Let's focus on merit and beauty in our work instead of chasing arbitrary growth metrics.

The discussion around achieving equity of outcomes is complex and often misunderstood. It is evident that even within the same family, people who grow up under exactly the same conditions—in the same household and sharing the same DNA—can yield vastly different outcomes. This raises the question: how could one possibly imagine achieving equity of outcomes for individuals who are far more separated than that?

This fundamental misunderstanding leads to a troubling conclusion. Many believe that everyone who shows up for an interview has essentially the same rights and opportunities. Therefore, if we do not see the percentages we would like from an aesthetic or demographic background, it is often interpreted as evidence of discrimination. This notion has become the cardinal sin of all the DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) initiatives that have infiltrated Corporate America, particularly in the tech sector.

I have become increasingly critical of this approach as I have reflected on it more deeply. It is a bad idea that can take hold, but it can also be ejected. This realization has given me a sense of enthusiasm for the future, particularly looking toward 2024 and beyond. Initially, I thought we were in for two decades of woke rain, believing it would take a long time to undo the current trends and return to a concept of equality that is merit-based and devoid of color lines. However, I now feel we are 90% there. While tech companies may not have reached that percentage, I believe we are moving in the right direction.

One of the defining moments in this shift, I believe, is Elon's acquisition of Twitter. This event has dramatically changed the dynamics of the conversation. For example, some individuals who previously wrote critical pieces are no longer on Twitter, indicating a significant shift in the landscape.

I want to switch gears now to discuss something that has always interested me about your body of work. I grew up in a corporate environment, particularly at Facebook, where efficiency and impact were prioritized. The focus was on the muscle of code and product, emphasizing how many people could be reached and how quickly things could be accomplished. In contrast, your work emphasizes craft, beauty, and elegance.

This artisan nature of your work is not meant to be derogatory; rather, it highlights the importance of beauty in code, even if it is something most people cannot see. I am curious about why this matters to you and why it should matter to the programmers or developers watching this discussion.

The conversation about beauty in code begins with the economics surrounding venture capital (VC). The funding model often places growth above all else, making it the primary metric in any scenario. This focus on growth seeps into everything else, leading to a situation where all efforts become subservient to growth.

In contrast, Jason and I do not prioritize growth as our top concern; it doesn't even make it into the top three or five priorities. While some degree of growth is healthy, it is not the top of our chart. This shift in priorities allows us to focus on very different aspects of our work. I view our approach as a lifestyle business, which I embrace endearingly. I want this to be a pleasant place to work for the next 10, 20, or even 40 years.

However, I want to challenge this perspective a bit. While I understand the kind of business you are building, there are entirely different types of businesses—such as a chat application or a social network—where growth is essential. In these cases, it is crucial for the business to take off. This necessity for growth is also downstream from the same funding model and economic pressures.

=> 00:40:59

Build a business that brings you joy, not just growth; prioritize beauty and craftsmanship over chasing numbers.

I refer to a lifestyle business endearingly. I want this to be a pleasant place where I can work for the next 10, 20, 30, or even 40 years. You can't achieve that with growth as number one, or at least it's very rare to see someone succeed under those conditions.

However, I want to challenge you on this part a bit, as you brought up a few points. I totally understand the kind of business you folks are building, but there are entirely different kinds of businesses. For example, if you wanted to build a ride-sharing business or a social network, those are companies where it has to take off; it’s going to take off, right?

That’s why I believe that there’s a downstream effect from the same values. If you are in a winner-take-all business, how do you think about beauty? Does it not matter to you at all, or can it not even make the top three? I think if you are in a winner-take-all business, you have to submit to the logic of growth. You have to put that at the top of the altar, which is one of the reasons why so much of my advocacy is focused on the idea that there are other tech businesses than winner-take-all. In fact, most tech businesses are not winner-take-all.

Certainly, if you look within tooling and social networks, I would never encourage anyone to pursue that path. I've actually discouraged people who have written to me saying they want to build another Twitter but without taking venture capital, wanting to grow it organically. I tell them to forget about it; that’s not compatible. If you want to dethrone Twitter or Facebook, you need to go to Sand Hill Road, raise $100 million, and give it your best shot. You're probably going to fail, but that’s the path you have to take if you want a shot.

You’re not going to artisanally grow something like Basecamp, a project management tool. Once you set aside growth as the most important thing, you can focus on the other aspects you truly care about—those things that make you happy, that get you into a flow state, and that make you proud. I feel proud and enter a flow state when I create really nice things to the best of my capacity, preferably pushing myself a little further so that I’m also learning. I share that from a spirit of wanting to create a viable, not just viable, but a successful company. That’s important because otherwise, I don’t get to keep doing what I love.

Once that bar is cleared, I don’t really care whether we have 100,000 or 1 million daily active users or even 100 million. In fact, I’d probably prefer having 1 million daily active users because once you reach 100 million, you need a hyper-organization. Most organizations, let’s say, I don’t want that.

So, let’s say you are the Jason of the business; you don’t have to grow. Fine, you focus on beauty. What does beauty mean to you in code? It’s very specific and actually a bit of a taste. I remember when I started learning photography; I would look at pictures and think, “That’s a nice picture,” but I couldn’t tell you why it was nice because I didn’t know about composition rules, the rule of thirds, exposure, or any of those things.

Trying to explain to someone who doesn’t know about code what makes beautiful code is actually quite difficult. However, I can draw a parallel. I think of code like I think of prose. I see myself as a software writer, not a software engineer. I don’t want to wear an engineer's hat; that’s not what I do, nor is it what brings me joy. Occasionally, I have to put that hat on for performance testing, which is very methodical and scientific. But most of the time, what I do is write stories that a computer can understand and execute. I want those stories to sing with the kind of prose that Orwell, Hemingway, or the best prose writers in the world could produce, all while maintaining clarity and context.

That’s how I think about it. I know how to write; I know the English language and can put together a full sentence. However, that doesn’t mean what I write is worthy of Hemingway or Orwell. There’s a level of beauty and energy that’s present in the best prose writers in the world.

=> 00:44:55

To master a new skill, shed your ego, seek out the experts, and never settle for being the big fish in a small pond.

What brings me joy? Occasionally, I have to put that hat on; we got to do performance testing. It's very methodical and scientific. However, most of the time, what I do is I write stories that a computer can understand and execute. I want those stories to sing with the kind of prose that an Orwell or Hemingway, or whoever else writes the best prose in the world, could produce. Within context, within clarity, and all these other things, that's how I think about it.

I think it's a good parallel where you can say, “I know how to write; I know the English language; I can put together a full sentence.” However, that doesn’t mean what you write is worthy of Hemingway or Orwell. There’s a level of beauty and energy that’s present in the best prose writers in the world, and that’s what I try to aspire to. A lot of it is in these fine details, as it often is.

For example, why is this sentence so gorgeous in The Old Man and the Sea? The way Hemingway describes how the harpoon goes into the fish is compelling. You might think it’s such an objective thing, describing a fisherman out there fishing, but it’s such an engrossing story. I actually read The Old Man and the Sea recently, which is why I refer to it, and I couldn’t put it down. I was just like, “Holy [__]!” I read so much non-fiction that occasionally picking up one of the great works of Western literature and reading through it is a mind-blowing experience. Yes, that’s what I want! I want my code to sing with the clarity and the prose of the harpoon going into the fish, just like Hemingway would tell it.

So, David, I’ll just say the line that I write stories at my computer is just beautiful. You should like that; that’s going in the title for this episode.

Now, I want to ask you what you can teach us from what you have learned over 10 years of racing at Le Mans. Yes, so what was really interesting about learning how to drive a race car was that it was not my first take at the road of learning something new. I already had a method, and I developed that method from programming, from writing, and even from photography. I had been through three domains of step curves, so I knew the meta-learning principles that I wanted to apply to race car driving.

One thing was to identify the experts. This is what I always do: I show up in a new domain and ask, “Who knows [__]? Who's for real? Who can teach me something?” Then, I approach those individuals with as little ego as I could possibly muster. “I know nothing; you know everything.” That’s not true in an absolute sense, but it’s a very helpful tool for learning. If you take your own ego out of the way and you’re not trying to impress people, you can just soak up more information much faster.

The second thing is that there are no speed limits. This is the title of an essay by Derek Sivers that I absolutely love and recommend everyone to check out. He talks about how he learned essentially a music degree in like a fourth of the time because he worked with an instructor who knew that the four-year curriculum was set for average students. If you don’t want to be average or you’re willing to put in above-average effort and intensity into your learning experience, don’t run at the pace that’s set for average students; you can run much faster.

So, what I did was identify the best drivers that I could possibly get access to. I showed up as a sponge and tried to learn as much as I could as quickly as I could, without any regard for accolades, trophies, or even completion. I would jump through the lower ranks of racing as quickly as I could. I wouldn’t even finish a season; I’d get four races into some season, then realize, “You know what? I could probably go top three, top four. Now I’m good enough for that. Boom! I need to go into a bigger pond.”

Never, ever do I want to be the big fish in a small pond. As soon as I can see the edges of the pond, it’s time to skip into the next one. You can just accelerate your learning so much if you follow some of those fundamental principles of learning. I went from getting my driver’s license at 25—I didn’t have a driver’s license while living in Copenhagen, which is not a car-friendly place, with an 180% tax on buying a car. It just wasn’t in the cards for me. I had a pair of rollerblades to get around the city.

So, I was 25 by the time I got my driver’s license, 27 by the time I sat in my first race car, and then at 30—is that right?—yeah, I think at 30, or 31, I was on the grid at Le Mans. But I think you have a great story somewhere, which if I may be quoting this, I think there are two stories. One, I think you had an...

=> 00:48:58

Master the small loops of learning to accelerate your growth; perfect one element before moving on, and embrace the flow state where instinct takes over.

As soon as I can see the edges of the pond, it's time to skip into the next one. You can just accelerate your learning so much if you follow some of those fundamental principles of learning. I went from getting my driver's license at 25; I didn't have a driver's license while living in Copenhagen. Copenhagen is not a car-friendly place, as there is an 180% tax on buying a car. It was just not in the cards for me. Instead, I had a pair of rollerblades that I used to get around the city. By the time I was 25, I got my driver's license, and by 27, I sat in my first race car. Then, at 30, or was it 31, I found myself on the grid at Le Mans.

I think you have a great story somewhere about an instructor who made even the difficult material great, and I also recall the first time you had to operate a clutch in a car. Could you explain both of those experiences?

Sure! I'll start with the last one. I was learning how to drive a car in Copenhagen for the first time, and it was a stick shift. At that time, many cars in the U.S. were also sticks, so I didn't have the benefit of an automatic transmission. I wanted to understand the bite point, which is where the clutch engages, allowing the car to roll off. The instructor would just tell me to "feel it," but I wanted specifics. I said, "No, no, no, that's not what I want to know. Give me the specifics, goddamn it! I want to know exactly when to feel that it starts biting. I want to know how long to hold it while it's biting before I can let it out quickly. I want to know how quickly I can let it out."

I wanted to stay in this very small loop. This is another principle of learning: you make your loops tiny so the feedback cycles are very quick, and you focus on one element before perfecting it. I wanted to perfect clutch movement before I even cared about left turns, right turns, or anything else. I tried to apply that going forward—perfect the short cycles as much as you can. Once you get that down, then you can move on.

There's something profound you just said, which makes me think about the UDA Loop—how quickly can you go through a loop and improve yourself? One of the points you made in one of your podcasts was that a lap in a race is only a couple of minutes. My interpretation of that is it gives you two things: first, you have to be purely focused, and second, every two minutes, you get to reset and try again. This is quite different from starting a company, where you can't just try again in two minutes.

So, when you're going through a lap at Le Mans, what are you thinking? What does it look like? Walk us through that experience.

What's so beautiful about flow is that when you're in that state, you're actually not thinking. It's not a conscious process where you're aware of your own thoughts—that's why it's called a flow state. You lose track of time. When I'm at Le Mans, I'm in a complete flow state. There is no conscious thought; obviously, there are thoughts, but they are all integrated into movement and actions in a way that feels almost subconscious.

In that state, you experience a degree of oneness with the materials, in this case, the car. You have a number of instruments to manage: your steering wheel, your hands are busy with that, and you have two feet. In modern race cars, you don't use the clutch, but you have one foot on the brake and one foot on the gas. You have to blend these inputs to get the perfect line through a corner. As you get better, you develop a sense of the g-load and the slip angle of the car, which you can feel through your body. You pick up minute details, like, "Oh, my right rear is spinning slightly too quickly; I have to make a quick adjustment at the wheel."

All of this happens in a symphony or a dance. You're not consciously thinking, "Oh, the next thing I have to do is push the..." No, if you're doing that, you're operating way too slowly. This is why it can't actually be a conscious procedure; you have to react within milliseconds to get it just right.

What I also love about race cars is that they involve a lot of skin in the game. There's a saying: "You put your hand on the stove." When you drive a race car, if you get it wrong, not only is it going to be expensive, but it may hurt or even be life-threatening. That level of criticality adds to the experience.

=> 00:52:44

In the high-stakes world of racing, every millisecond counts, and the thrill of the challenge sharpens your focus like nothing else.

When driving a race car, one must pick up these minute details like, "oh my, the right rear is spinning slightly too quickly." This requires a quick adjustment at the wheel. All of this happens in a way that resembles a symphony or a dance, where you are not consciously thinking, "oh, the next thing I have to do is push the..." No, if you're doing that, you're operating way too slowly. This is why it can't actually be a conscious procedure; you must react within milliseconds to get it just right.

What I also love about race cars is that they put your skin in the game. As Dan says, "you put your hand on the stove," which means there is a lot of skin in the game when you drive a race car. If you get it wrong, not only is it going to be expensive, but it may also hurt, or you could die. That level of criticality is not available to most modern humans most of the time; they live in very confined, safe environments. I guess that's good—it's why we don't all die all the time.

Race cars, however, are very safe these days compared to how they were in the 1960s, when a third of the people who would start the grid at a Formula 1 season would die. It's nothing like that anymore. Yet, the risk factor is still there, and it really focuses your mind. When you have skin in the game, if you make a mistake, it’s going to be expensive, it’s going to hurt, or you might die. This reality sharpens your focus. If you think of a predator, you’re paying attention to all these things. You look at one thing and ignore everything else, and it’s just such a gorgeous feeling. To me, it’s the closest thing to a high that I can experience.

I haven’t had a lot of actual highs in my life, but this is the closest thing. What's so beautiful about race cars is that I can experience this in programming too, occasionally, when I’m ever so blessed to deal with a peak problem in a race car. I can almost get it every single time I close the door. That’s why it’s so damn addictive. It’s like a key; you can turn it on. Flow states are not like that. If you study the history and science of flow, it’s mostly serendipitous—when the right problem meets the right time, you are fortunate. With race cars, it’s not like that; you get it all the time.

By the way, I think this might mean I have to start racing—it's kind of the answer to this. He sold me. One of the things I love about your writing online is that you talk a lot about the tools you use. I think you’re very much like an artist in many ways, and I just love that. Honestly, I was saying to David the other day that I bought those K speakers we have literally because of his blog. That company owes you a lot of referral money or at least one order. Many people love hearing this stuff; I love hearing it too.

So, talk to us about your setup—your beautiful office, the software you use, and what a regular workday looks like. Let me set that up by saying that there are some people who really poo-poo the idea that we should even care about this stuff. They think, "whatever gets the job done." This connects a little bit to the discussion we had about value hierarchy. If growth is number one, or whatever, you are willing to sacrifice nice tools—whatever gets the job done. I’m not that person; I care immensely about the tools I use to get the job done.

For me, the act of making things is in itself the reward. Now, I also like to have made something that’s very rewarding, but it’s more rewarding for me to be in the state of making things. To be in that state, I have to work with beautiful things, beautiful tools, and I have to do it with a method that I find aesthetically appealing. This is another interesting discussion in computer science. There are people in computer science who don’t have a lot of love for aesthetics. Have you ever read the essay “Worse is Better” by Richard Gabriel? Yes, and I do agree with that in a high-level sense. I’d actually say Ruby on Rails is worse is better; most things that succeed are worse is better in that regard. I don’t agree on the nitty-gritties of when you make things.

Anyway, to get to your questions about how you build things, it’s funny—whenever I post a photo of my work setup, I get two comments every time. The first is, "You have a nice view." Thank you very much; yes, this is one of the few...

=> 00:56:33

Embrace what you love and stick with it, regardless of trends or market share.

In the realm of computer science, there exists an interesting discussion regarding the concept of aesthetics. There are individuals in this field who do not have a lot of love for the word "aesthetics." This brings to mind the essay "Worse is Better" by Richard Gabriel. Have you ever read it? Yes, I have, and I do agree with it in a high-level sense. In fact, I would say that Ruby on Rails is worse is better; most things that succeed fall into this category. However, I do not agree with the nitty-gritty details of how things are made.

Whenever I post a photo of my work setup, I consistently receive two types of comments. The first is, "You have a nice view." I appreciate that, as this is one of the few material advancements that can provide such enjoyment. I like to share it, and I believe it represents one of the best aspirational goals to reach for. Just like showing someone a nice car, everyone appreciates a beautiful view of nature. It is a universal aspiration, and I find it to be a wholesome one. Importantly, a nice view of nature is not exclusive to the wealthy; anyone can walk out and enjoy it.

The second type of comment I receive is, "What the hell are you doing with that Apple Mouse and that Apple keyboard? Are you crazy? Is this just a photo shoot? You don't actually use those things, right? Why do you only have one screen? Why not 25 screens?" My response is simple: I have been using computers for 40 years, and the Apple keyboard is my favorite keyboard of all time. Similarly, the Apple Mouse is my favorite mouse of all time, and I will use one screen until I die. I find things that I really like, and I tend to stick with them. I have enjoyed the Apple Mouse since its inception; I think it has a beautiful design.

I find it fascinating how this preference encapsulates whether people understand trade-offs. The most common pushback I encounter regarding the Apple Mouse is that you have to turn it over to charge it. Yes, once every three months, you must turn it over, and it looks a little silly when you do so. People often take pictures of the upside-down mouse and laugh, saying, "That's stupid." While it may seem silly in an abstract sense, it shows a lack of understanding of proportions. For the other three months of the year, I get to use a fantastic mouse where the entire surface acts as a trackpad. That is an awesome feature!

I enjoy sharing my setup because it surprises many programmers. I also use TextMate, a text editor that I helped develop. That's a throwback! I love TextMate, and I still use it from time to time. It represents an era of Mac software, along with others like Delicious Library. While some of these applications are still alive and in use, many have been supplanted by modern options like VS Code.

You are absolutely correct; we asked the audience at Rails World a few months ago which editor they use, and at least 90%, if not 95%, reported using VS Code. It has certainly won the market share battle, and I commend Microsoft for that achievement. However, does that mean I want to use VS Code? Absolutely not! You will have to pry TextMate from my cold dead hands.

This sentiment ties back to why I chose Ruby in the first place. When I started using Ruby, there were virtually no professionals in the West using it to build systems. Ruby was considered somewhat of a niche, a "Japanese thing" at the time, and it was not mainstream at all. It was primarily embraced by programming language enthusiasts. So, why did I choose Ruby when building Rails? First and foremost, I want to clarify that I do not care what other people use. Market share is not a relevant metric for my evaluation. This perspective aligns with my general approach to growth; I do not care what others use, even if I am the last person in the world using my preferred tools.

=> 01:00:29

Craft over popularity. Choose tools that resonate with you, not what everyone else is using. Your work deserves the best.

When I picked up Ruby, there was virtually no one using it professionally in the West to build systems. At that time, Ruby was kind of this Japanese thing; it was not mainstream at all. It was mainly known among programming language nerds. So, why Ruby when building Rails? I would love to share my thoughts on that.

First of all, let me answer the questions in connection. I don't give a [ __ ] what other people use; I don't care about market share. For me, it is not a relevant metric of evaluation. This perspective ties back to my views on growth; I don't care what other people use. If I am the last person in the world to still use TextMate, it makes no difference to me. I don't care whether a million people use TextMate or just two; it does not change my interaction with that program. It already does everything I need it to do, and it does it in such an aesthetically pleasing way.

I actually like TextMate for a million reasons, but perhaps the reason that will baffle most people is that I will not give up its text rendering algorithm. To me, VS Code is ugly, in part because the text rendering is unpleasing to my eyes. Now, that's not a universally applicable thing, but it's a grudge I've held against Windows for a very long time. I've tried Windows a couple of times in the past decade, and usually where things fall down for me is on font rendering.

Wait, hold it! What about VS Code on Mac? It is fantastic, but it still doesn’t render fonts like TextMate does. I don't know what the secret sauce is, and I don't even care what it is. I can't fully articulate it; I can just look at two screens and say, “Yeah, I like that one. I’m going to pick that one.”

Now, there are also features and other considerations. However, one of the things I don't want is an IDE. I don't want an integrated development environment because I want to deal with the individual characters. It is like a forced constraint that pushes me to make Rails so good that you don't need help to write it. When I'm writing it manually, I'm typing out everything—there's no autocompletion.

I love AI, and we can talk about that too, but I don’t use AI for autocompletion. I don’t find that a pleasurable way of working. I don't want anyone autocompleting my thoughts; I want my thoughts to flow through the filters in my head, and then I can get some feedback. I love asking AI, “What do you think of this? Can you help me find a bar? Can you look up this API?” Wonderful! Great! I'm not eluded in those ways, but I do care about my tools in a way where I think of a chef.

The grip on this knife, the sharpness of this blade, the exact length—that’s what I use when I want to cut a fish. I would say there’s something so admirable about your focus on the craft, the beauty, and the intangibles. There is, in many ways, a connecting thread through everything you do and everything you write.

This brings us to a topic that is top of mind for many people these days: Apple. For me, the company is often referenced in connection with some of the concepts you talk about, like getting it perfectly right and doing things because it feels right. Apple is the reference point for this. It is interesting that we live in an era where everyone has to build things that go through their gates and pay them potentially 30%.

You folks have had a bunch of scruffles with Apple, like getting your app blocked and then unbanned. If you could send a message to Tim Cook, who has pressures regarding App Store revenue, growing the business, wanting to keep macOS and iOS a safe place, and also wanting to support open source, what would you want to tell Tim?

Well, let me start with this: You’re breaking my [ __ ] heart, Tim. You really are. I've been an Apple superfan for over 20 years. I've advocated for Apple in all sorts of arenas, exactly for the reason you mentioned. Apple does have an unusual, uncanny affinity and culture that values beauty, aesthetics, and simplicity. These are the reasons why I still use Apple products. However, they have unfortunately entered into the resource curse—the resource curse of this gushing flow of money that comes from the toll booth.

=> 01:04:38

Apple risks losing its soul by prioritizing revenue over the craft, just like Google did. If they keep alienating developers, history shows that the backlash could be devastating.

App Store Revenue is growing, and the business wants to keep the Mac and iOS a safe place. Additionally, there is a desire to have open source for all the good stuff. So, what would you want to tell Tim, or perhaps you already have?

Let me start with this: you're breaking my [__] heart, Tim. You really are. I've been an Apple goddamn Super Fan for over 20 years. I've advocated for Apple in all sorts of arenas, exactly for the reason you mentioned: Apple does have an unusual, uncanny affinity and culture that values beauty, aesthetics, and simplicity. These are the reasons why I still use Apple products.

However, they have unfortunately entered into the resource curse—the resource curse of this gusher of money that is coming from the toll booth, this seemingly free money. Google has suffered under the same resource curse to some extent. When the ads just disspu, nothing else you do ends up mattering. I mean, Google to me is really the terminal case because they're such a basket case of a company. They can't seem to produce any product that they'll stick with for longer than five minutes. Their graveyard is legendary, and constant churn in it means none of it matters. None of the market forces are exerting themselves in the focusing ways that would happen inside a normal functioning company because they don't have to; the money just keeps flowing from the apps.

Apple is in great danger of corrupting their soul on the same principle. As the app revenue or the toll booth revenues increase, they are the EAS—these kinds of money—and it ends up being detrimental. This is something Steve Jobs used to talk about with IBM and the other monopolists of his time. That resource curse crowds out the people who care about the craft and crowds out those who see computing as a series of collaborative games. You can win one game in computing, let's say mobile phones, but if you're so damn extractive and abusive, by the time we have to play the next round—let's say it's VR or something else—people will remember.

There's not a lot of great successes out of the social sciences, but the prisoner's dilemma, especially the repeated prisoner's dilemma, is one of the hallmark achievements of that whole field. But is it actually true in the technology world? I think Microsoft just became the most...

I think what DH is trying to say is the VR one where Netflix pulled out, YouTube pulled out, and Spotify pulled out of wanting to stream within Apple's VR hardware interface. I think you're starting to see this pattern. You're right; I went through this when I worked at Facebook, and the abusive monopoly doesn't affect the big incumbents as much as it affects smaller companies. It's just disproportionate in how much it destroys smaller apps that are just trying to do something fun, put it out there, and make something useful. Then you have this very monopolistic kind of rules and practices.

So I see that, but I think, Sham, the thing that I think DH is referring to is the one where now these big companies are basically teaming up and saying, "Nope, we're not going to do that" because they've had it. They've had enough. That's exactly the historical parallel I would implore Tim to study: it's Microsoft. Microsoft was in Apple's shoes in the late '90s, and they poisoned the ground so badly for so many developers, in part because of their stance on open source, that they turned off an entire generation of developers who could not wait for Microsoft to get its comeuppance.

When the Mac finally became a viable platform because they embraced unit technology and so on, developers jumped in droves. They drove Apple forward with a passion that stemmed from their hatred of Microsoft. That is what Apple is currently cultivating—they're cultivating a hatred from developers who've been screwed over time and again under the current regime. At some point, when they have the chance, they will pay it back.

I know there are a million reasons you can point to, but I like to see the failure of Windows Phone through this lens somewhat. The Windows Phone was something Microsoft poured billions into developing. By all metrics, it should have been able to get a foothold, but they could not get app developers to make apps for it. I think part of the reason—not the whole reason, as there are a bunch of other reasons—was that so many developers still had such a vivid memory of Microsoft being an abusive monopolist, being the ones who cut off the air supply. They did not want to lend a finger to Microsoft.

=> 01:08:43

The lingering resentment from developers towards Microsoft highlights how past abuses can shape future collaborations, making it hard for even the most invested companies to win back trust.

Cultivating a hatred has emerged from developers who feel they have been screwed over time and again by the current regime. There is a sentiment that at some point, when they have the chance, they will pay it back. While there are a million reasons one could point to, I like to view the failure of Windows Phone through this lens. The Windows Phone was something Microsoft invested billions into, and by all metrics, it should have been able to gain a foothold. However, they could not get app developers to create applications for it.

I believe part of the reason—though not the whole reason—was that many developers still had a vivid memory of Microsoft being an abusive monopolist. They were the ones who cut off the air supply, and as a result, developers were reluctant to lend a finger to Microsoft to help them out. In fact, many embraced Apple's platform with open arms, believing that Apple was different and that they would be treated differently.

Moving on to another topic, I wanted to ask you about your most recent piece on the Danish fairy tale blog post. You are known for being a very opinionated person, and most often, your pieces tell us what is going to be right in the title. I approached this piece expecting it to be a polarizing comparison, perhaps suggesting that Danish life kind of sucks while American life is amazing. However, I found it to be very nuanced.

I appreciated how it ended and the acknowledgment of the Danish lifestyle and what they have achieved, yet it came with caveats. You pointed out that if someone is willing to sacrifice and adapt, then that life might be for them. However, it was striking that someone like you could thrive in the U.S., while someone from the U.S. might struggle to make it in a city like Copenhagen. This was a poignant point that resonated with me.

I would love for you to elaborate on why you wrote that piece and what triggered it, as well as any feedback you have received since then. You mentioned that the trigger was actually moving back to Denmark in 2020 during the pandemic. You observed the American response and thought, "This is nonsense," regarding the prolonged school closures and masking of kids. You wanted to find a place that was best for your kids.

In your search, you spun a globe and considered various options, such as New Zealand and Australia. Ultimately, you decided on Denmark, where you have family, and it seemed like an easy choice, especially since borders were closing. With a Danish passport, you could enter the country, so you thought, "Let's just give it a try for six months." That six-month trial ended up turning into three years, which provided you with a delightful reminder of what Danish society is like beyond the postcard image.

Having moved from Denmark to the United States in 2005 and living there for 15 years, you realized that your view of Denmark had become somewhat of a fairy tale. This view was never entirely accurate, and it didn't account for all the compromises. However, it influenced your advocacy for political topics in the U.S. You often wondered, "Why can't we just be like Denmark?" It seemed to you that Denmark had figured out many things, and you questioned why the U.S., being the smartest and richest country in the world, couldn't import some of the best ideas. Instead of holding the U.S. to a standard of being better than countries like Venezuela, shouldn't we aim for the most well-functioning societies in the world?

Ultimately, you moved back to Denmark with your American wife and three kids, which allowed you to explore these themes further.

=> 01:12:31

We need to stop romanticizing other countries' systems without understanding the sacrifices and trade-offs that make them work.

For 15 years, I lived in the United States, which led me to develop a fairy tale view of Denmark in my memory. This perspective was never entirely accurate; it was filled with compromises that I didn't fully grasp. However, this idealized vision influenced my advocacy for political topics in the U.S. I often wondered, "Why can't we just be like Denmark?" It seemed to me that Denmark had 400 different things figured out. I thought, why couldn't the U.S., being the smartest and richest country in the world, simply import all the best ideas? Shouldn't we hold ourselves to a higher standard rather than settling for the low bar set by many in American discourse, who often say, "At least we're not Venezuela?"

Upon moving back to Denmark with my American wife and our three kids, who are more American than Danish, I realized that while everything good about Denmark is true, there exists a laundry list of compromises, trade-offs, and sacrifices necessary to maintain those positive aspects. This realization ignited a fire within me; I recognized that I had been doing a disservice to the U.S. discourse by advocating so forcefully for Danish policies without equally emphasizing the trade-offs that come with them.

One of the major topics often discussed is Denmark's "free education." However, when we say "free education," it actually means state-run education. This concept might sound horrible to an American, who might envision something akin to the DMV, but it is not as dreadful as it seems. I received a state-run education, and while I wouldn't call it great, it was adequate. I didn't have to pay tuition and received good instruction, but it was not a four-year luxury vacation at a lavish hotel with pools and basketball courts. The experience was far more mundane, costing the Danish state about $7,000 a year.

In Denmark, students do not get to choose whatever they want to study. They receive a GPA that determines the kind of education they can access. If their GPA isn't good enough, they may have to apply to a secondary tier of education, which often means they cannot study what they want. Instead, the system directs students toward fields that are in demand, such as engineering, while limiting spots for less sought-after majors, like ancient Greek. The Danish government straightforwardly acknowledges the need for certain professions and adjusts educational opportunities accordingly.

The same principles apply to healthcare. In Denmark, healthcare is not just state-funded; it is state-run. Hospitals are managed by government employees, and cost control measures enable the system to provide healthcare for free. However, this comes with restrictions on the types of treatments available and the speed at which patients can access care.

Reflecting on my own experiences, I was grateful to grow up working-class in Denmark, where these systems worked well for people like me. I performed decently in school, and thankfully, not many aspired to major in business and computer science, making it relatively easy for me to enter that field. I also received necessary healthcare without ever having to pay a dime, such as when I had surgeries for a bad ear as a child. These aspects are what American liberals often point to and say, "See, that's what we need!"

However, I also came to realize that there are significant trade-offs involved. For instance, when someone's mother needs a new hip, she might have to wait for three months, enduring considerable pain. These are the realities that must be acknowledged.

Lastly, I want to address the misconception among some American liberals regarding taxes. There is a belief that if we just tax billionaires more, we can afford free education and healthcare. This notion is misguided. There aren't that many billionaires, and in the grand scheme of things, they don't possess enough wealth to fund everything we desire. The idea that we can simply tax billionaires to cover these costs is unrealistic and will lead to a quick depletion of resources. In Denmark, the approach to taxation and funding is far more nuanced than merely targeting the wealthy.

=> 01:16:24

True social democracy requires a shared cultural understanding; without it, the dream of free services for all remains just that—a dream.

In the discussion, we realize that when someone's mom needs a new hip, she might have to wait for three months, and it hurts like hell. There are trade-offs involved, and unless one is reasonable about it, these issues can become overwhelming.

One of the last significant trade-offs we must consider is taxes. American liberals often have a twisted idea that if we just tax billionaires more, they will cover the costs for everything we want. They believe we can achieve free education and free health care simply by taxing those billionaires more. However, what are they talking about? There aren't that many billionaires in the grand scheme of things, and they don't have that much money. You will run out of it rather quickly. That's not how the system works.

In reality, there aren't a ton of billionaires that are just taxed to the moon. Everyone pays. For example, you pay 50% at the marginal rate by the time you make $85,000 a year, and you pay 32% from the get-go. Are you willing to pay that? Or do you just want everything for free? This kind of thinking is frustrating to deal with.

Additionally, there is another point regarding homogeneity. Everyone seems to buy into this culture, perhaps due to their racial background or social upbringing. There appears to be a discordance between wanting diversity in various aspects of life while everyone subscribes to the same system. This tension is evident in discussions surrounding these topics.

Moreover, I think there is an incompatibility present. I have not seen a truly pluralistic, multicultural society that has also embraced a fully functioning socially democratic welfare state. There is something fundamentally significant about this, and one can delve into a lot of research regarding how willing humans are to share their resources with people who don't look like them or come from different cultural backgrounds.

It's important to note that this is not completely clear-cut; there are numerous nuances involved. I have witnessed this firsthand. My wife comes from a background with Nordic ancestry—literally two generations back, there are Norwegians and Swedes in her family line. She loves Danish culture, but she is not Danish. Although she learned Danish and can speak it passively, she does not speak it fluently.

This difference is crucial. In Danish society, there is a significant skepticism towards those who do not fully integrate. The Danes are very kind to tourists, but when you tell them you are staying, you quickly realize that you have about five minutes of grace before they start questioning why you don't speak perfect Danish or why your children aren't in Danish schools. They seem to need that homogeneity to function effectively, and I actually think they are right about this.

This is why Denmark is often cited by American liberals as a model for free healthcare and free education. However, have you seen their strict immigration policies? Try walking up to the border in Denmark and saying, "Hey, I'd like to get in." You might not get shot, but you will definitely get arrested and deported.

As we approach the end of our discussion, I want to touch on a final question. We have talked about many issues, and while it seems that the tech landscape is somewhat broken, I appreciate what you are doing. It makes me optimistic about a very different kind of tech. We didn't even touch on this today, but I admire the fact that you are building single box architecture.

=> 01:20:21

Lowering the barriers to entry in technology empowers everyone to create, innovate, and thrive in a free marketplace.

American liberals often point to countries like Denmark when discussing free healthcare and free education. However, it's important to consider the realities of their borders. For example, try walking up to the border in Denmark and saying, "Hey, I'd like to get in. Can I just walk in?" While it’s not accurate to say you would get shot, you would certainly be arrested and deported.

As we approach the end of our conversation, I want to ask one last question. We have discussed many topics, and I find it fascinating how your work in technology inspires optimism about a very different kind of tech. We didn't even touch on the single box architecture you are building, which allows things to run anywhere. By the time this episode airs, perhaps it will have launched. I'm curious, on a parting note, what aspects of technology make you optimistic and encourage you to continue working in this space for many years to come?

One of the key reasons is the compression of complexity. I love taking something that is difficult, expensive, or exotic and transforming it into something that is easy to use for someone without a technical background. My life's work with Ruby on Rails exemplifies this; it makes it incredibly easy to build web applications that almost anyone can get started with. While I won't claim that everyone can complete the journey, I want to lower the barriers to entry. The biggest hurdle is often the inability to even get "Hello World" on the screen. I can relate to this struggle, as I had to attempt to learn programming three times before I finally succeeded. Each time I failed, it was due to those high walls.

I have a strong affinity for lowering these walls to create equality of opportunity. If someone is willing to put in the work, they shouldn't need many prerequisites; they should be able to show up with just the willingness to learn. I want to extend this philosophy to all web technologies. To me, the web is the eighth wonder of the world; it is the greatest commerce platform and software platform we have ever known. We must guard it with our lives because there are corporations that would love nothing more than to return the web to the walled garden of the past. Companies like Apple are inching closer to controlling the entire web, which feels dystopian, and we must fight against it.

I am committed to serving the web, the internet, and the idea of a free platform for creation and commerce. In this space, people should not have to ask permission; they should be able to act freely, and it is the customers and end-users who will determine success. This perspective has also influenced my views on crypto, particularly Bitcoin. I used to be quite negative about the space, and while I still have concerns about the shenanigans occurring, I fundamentally support the freedom to transact. The idea that companies like Visa or Mastercard can shut you off from transacting, or that a government can freeze your bank account for protesting, is not just dystopian; it is totalitarian.

The Canadian trucker protest was a pivotal moment that reshaped my views on crypto. At its core, I believe in the love of freedom, individual enterprise, and entrepreneurship. I am 100% behind these ideals. This does not mean we cannot improve things, but at its essence, we must advocate for more people to have access to various avenues of commerce. This access will enable them to create better, faster, and more innovative solutions for all of us.

I recognize that I have harbored a shade of pessimism for too long, partly due to my animosity towards the VC funding model. However, I have softened my stance on the idea that at least someone is putting money forward to build. I want to be a builder and collaborate with those who create rather than sit idly by and criticize. If you are not building, I believe you should refrain from complaining.

As we record this just days after the Argentine president's speech at Davos, his comments on freedom resonate with me. Let's continue to promote freedom for builders and maintain the integrity of the web. I can't think of a better note to end on than this: let’s go build! Thank you for this brilliant conversation, and thank you for coming on our show. It has been truly enjoyable. Thank you!