In his latest essay, “How to Earn a Billion Dollars”, Paul Graham does his best impression of a condescending prick while trying to explain that it is possible to have a billion dollars without cheating. This was in response to Alexandra Ocasio-Cortez’s comment that:
There’s a certain level of wealth and accumulation that is unearned. You can’t earn a billion dollars. You just can’t earn that. You can get market power, you can break rules, you can abuse labor laws, you can pay people less than what they’re worth, but you can’t earn.
This is my interpretation of Ocasio-Cortez’s words: no one deserves to have one billion dollars of their own. You can get to them by ways both lawful — underpaying your workers, abusing labor laws, etc. — and, of course, unlawful, but you can’t earn them. Somewhere on your path to a billion, in fact in too many places to count, you will have broken a moral, ethical, personal or public standard, sold your soul piece by piece, through acts diabolical when written down and thought about for more than a moment but which tend to go down smoothly, like nothing at all, just doing regular business as taught and practiced by people like Graham. No one described it better than C.S. Lewis in his essay “The Inner Ring” and, more viscerally, in the third book of his space trilogy.
This is how Paul Graham seems to have interpreted those same words: it is impossible to have one billion dollar net worth without cheating. He then uses basic math — start with a few measly million, grow it at 93% per month, see magic happen — to show that no, it is mathematically impossible not to get to a billion with that kind of growth. The only reason you are not a billionaire is that you are not trying hard enough, not producing the magical technology that will get you to a 93% monthly growth rate. Left unsaid, for this was initially a talk he gave at the Oxford Union debate society, are the many assumptions that are to me unpalatable but to Graham either so common that they have become like water or equally unpalatable and therefore hidden deep in his hindbrain. I can’t tell which is worse.
Assumption one: growth is a universal good. Without even going into what it is that you are growing (gambling, recreational drugs, surveillance systems, etc) the easiest way to grow a thing good or bad is to provide more to the customer than what they are paying. If I gave people a dollar for every quarter they spend my growth would be through the roof! Normally you grow because the perceived value to the customer is greater than the monetary one, but we are long past that. Getting thousands of dollars worth of tokens for a $200 per month subscription is the latest iteration, but Uber did it before on wheels, as have many companies before and since. Welcome to step one of enshittification.
Assumption two: to the founder go the spoils. Well, not just the founder — spare the thought for the investor — but notice how it goes without saying that by getting the company to a billion dollar valuation it is the founder who would become the billionaire. You see in this kind of thinking one of the reasons why CEOs, board members and investors are so enthusiastic about AI: widespread implementation would absolve them of the moral injury they get by shafting their workers. Well, those who still have morals to be injured.
Assumption three: these are not, I repeat — not — shark-infested waters. The second assumption is that the workers should be happy with their salary and a few lottery-ticket options, and that only a handful of people, the founders, should get a lion’s share of the company. The third is that the financial ecosystem will let the founders keep the money. Alas, from banking and legal fees to business partners and investors claiming their share, our newly not poor founder may find herself in an Old Man and the Sea situation. This is much more common in biotech where the academic founders regularly get mere crumbs once they cede most business to people presenting themselves as the adults in the room.
Assumption four: all assets are equal when it comes to net worth. The Internet has been flush with graphic depictions of what one trillion dollars means in physical terms — even one of my favorite popular science outlets was in on it — without stopping to think whether Elon Musk actually has access to that kind of money. Founder shares are particularly susceptible to melting down once the founder starts liquidating them, so the answer is no, Musk would not be able to get his one trillion and lock them in a vault Scrooge McDuck-style. Which is fine, as long as you can buy, borrow, die, but then what have you “earned”, exactly? The right to cheap credit and no taxation?
Assumption five: to be a billionaire, you have to want it. This one is in fact the correct assumption! There are no accidental billionaires, though not for the reason you think. You can be purposeful and diligent in building a great business; alas this is not sufficient. Mr. Market won’t just hand you gobs of money after it sees what you have done, no, you have to absolutely want to be a billionaire, make those small sales of your soul, shaft the workers, avoid the sharks and buy into the lifestyle. Balk at any one of those steps and wham, even if the number of whatever tracker you use gets to ten figures you won’t stay there for long. Well, conditional on inflation being under control, or soon enough we will all be billionaires!
There are many, many people in the tech and biotech circles who could have become billionaires but haven’t, and kudos to them! They tend to be silent, but Jeff Atwood comes to mind as an exceedingly decent human being who is also unusually outspoken and kudos to him. Whether there are even more people who would desperately want to be billionaires but can’t — or aren’t yet — I cannot say for certain, though my brief exposure to the ecosystem tells me that the answer is sadly yes.
After ten… eventful years in DC, our family — which doubled in size since 2016 (and more than doubled if you include the cat, and why wouldn’t you) — is moving to Denver, Colorado! Next month. Less than three weeks from now. Gulp.
So anyway, here is a recent storm over Washington to set the mood.
As seen in the official email communication from the American Society of Hematology:
Milos, if you’re sitting for the hematology boards this November, you don’t just need more resources — you need a structured plan that fits alongside your fellowship and life.
AI slop is the clipart of our age. This too shall pass, one would hope.
A new pop up just opened in DC on 7th Street NW, between G and H. You love to see it.
To state the obvious: I have been following blogs for much longer than I’ve had one. A version of what now goes under “Infinite Regress” first started in October 2010, shortly after I moved to the US. Most of it was in Serbian and now available elsewhere but in 2012 I started blogging in English and, well, here we are.
There is only a handful of blogs which I have been following from before that time. The list does not include Marginal Revolution, which I didn’t know about until around 2015, when a hematology attending at NHLBI mentioned it during rounds. [Note: Here is the too much information part, and not particularly relevant to the topic at hand: the attending was Neal Young, who also introduced me to Edward Tufte; it was during the post-Tuesday clinic roundup of patients with aplastic anemia, which were always fun; and it was him showing a video of a bear which Tyler Cowen linked to the day before. Why I can remember those facts but not to pick up ricotta cheese at the store as instructed to by my wife is one of those small mysteries of life. I do also remember being somewhat surprised that the super-smart and erudite Young was impressed by a stupid bear video. ] Andrew Gelman’s “Statistical Modeling…” also wouldn’t make the cut: even though he started blogging in 2004, around the time I discovered Bloglines, I wouldn’t become a subscriber until some time during covid lockdowns during a brief period when I thought I had enough time to read much more than I actually could and ultimately and inevitably overcommitted. Yet I try to model their regularity (consciously) and irreverence (not as consciously, more as a permission), if not Cowen’s positions as of late.
Then there are the blogs which are now dead, defunct, or a shadow of themselves. Many of those productivity-adjacent. Stuff like Lifehacker, 43 Folders, Kevin MD. These I couldn’t say were explicit current influences in format or style, but I do still have a GTD and a medicine tag and I update both fairly frequently.
There are only three blogs I can think of that I have been following pre-blogging and still do, with some interruptions in between. Two of them should not be a surprise to even a casual recent reader: John Gruber’s Daring Fireball and Dave Winer’s Scripting News. [Note: I fought hard against finshing the title of this post with a (the last one may surpirse you) because this is one of those cases where the clickbaity headline may actually have fit. ] The third, though, fell off my radar during the last great feed reader reshuffle as it has several more times over the last 22 or so years I have been a not-so-faithful follower: Dubious Quality by Bill Harris, which has gone from being predominantly about gaming to game developing to, well, something that is less focused than even what you are reading here so I would not exaggerate if I called DQ the ur-influence of “Infinite Regress”.
And a few decades before @jtr’s push to write more emails I was a fairly regular emailer to Harris. In fact, my very first email to him, my Gmail archive tells me, was dated August 24, 2004 and had the subject line of “RSS feed, please”. I haven’t changed much, have I?
Repugnant.
Abby Care — the listing is alphabetical so it sits at the top — “empowers families to deliver exceptional care”. More specifically, it “trains family members to become paid caregivers for loved ones with disabilities or special needs” and “provides training and community support to deliver better care at lower cost”.
Mysteriously, it also brags about accepting major health insurance providers. Piecing together the fluffy prose on their website and their simple 3-step process [Note: Step 1: Get certified with Abby Care through no-cost training. Step 2: Begin care enrollment (with Abby care support for employment, payroll and administrative coordination… Wait, payroll?) Step 3: Deliver quality care. ] it seems that Abby Care wants to be the Uber of home health aid for people who have a family member in need. The proposition is that, since you are already doing all these things for your loved one, you may as well train to do it even better (great!) but also bill your loved one’s medical insurance for it for the “care” you “deliver” (wait, what?) and let Abby Care take a cut (ick!)
The website is also full of community, whether it’s “family-to-family connection and support”, “navigation of community programs and resources” or a statement that “Abby Care brings families together through shared experiences, practical support, and ongoing connection”. Yes yes, you can make this abomination into a community in the same way you can run dirty tap water through reverse osmosis and add back electrolytes to make it taste like a crisp mountain spring. But only one of those comes free, conditional on 1) it existing and 2) you getting to it; RO is significantly easier to obtain provided you have the electricity to run the machine, money for regularly replacing the remineralization filter, and tolerance for wasting four gallons of water for every one you drink.
Mr. Market has a knack for finding an inherently good thing people do out of altruism, sense of obligation or sheer humanity, then putting a price tag on it, taxing it and adding on a 15% service fee to boot — just look at what happened to Airbnb. The only reason some galaxy-level brain at Sequoia isn’t funding a child care scheme similar to Abby Care is that there is no equivalent in health insurance for the care of children. Otherwise I have no doubt that there would be a platform — it is always a platform — for parents to take care of each other’s progeny in return for some meager returns which the platform owners will garnish, laughing all the way to the Silicon Valley Bank.
The monetization of everyday interactions is not new — it first became salient to me after reading the 2019 book Capitalism, Alone by Branko Milanović, which the Wall Street Journal described as “an implausibly dystopian vision of global capitalism’s future.” I am sure the finance whizzes at the WSJ would not find this entire thing repugnant, but I truly wonder about the prevailing opinion among everyone else.
The 109-year-old (National) Sylvan Theater sits directly across from the Washington Monument on the National Mall. Derelict and seemingly abandoned — the last event was in October 2025 — it may be an even better symbol of America’s semiquincentennial than that monstrosity behind the White House.