Dear Internet:
You Are Extraordinary, But Not Exceptional
NEW
BOOK: Professor Shane Greenstein is annoyed by “Internet exceptionalism,” the prevalent idea that the
Internet defies economic logic, that there’s never been anything like it in
business history, and that its impact supersedes everything. In his new book,
Greenstein argues that the Internet actually follows classic patterns of
economic behavior, detailing the commercial forces that guided the Internet’s
path from cool invention to successful innovation.
AUTHOR INTERVIEW
What the Internet and Corn
Have in Common
Interview by Carmen Nobel
During the dot-com boom of the 1990s, Shane
Greenstein routinely met entrepreneurs who believed that economic forces did
not apply to their precious startups. As an economist, this bugged the hell out
of him.
“I encountered two types,” says Greenstein, the MBA Class of 1957
professor of business administration at Harvard Business School. “One was the
techy engineer sort who said, ‘I don’t have to know anything about business.
Business will take care of itself.’ The other was the business type who said,
‘We don’t have to have a revenue model yet. Don’t worry about it. It will
appear.’”
“E-MAIL AND CORN DEPLOYED MUCH IN THE SAME WAY”
Greenstein dubs it
“Internet exceptionalism”—this idea that the Internet is a technological
innovation that defies economic logic, that there’s never been anything like it
in business history, and that its impact supersedes everything. “It’s a
pernicious myth,” he says.
His new book aims to
replace Internet exceptionalism with a logical framework based on durable
patterns of economic behavior. In How the Internet Became Commercial: Innovation,
Privatization, and the Birth of a New Network, Greenstein looks at how the Internet evolved from a government-owned
network (used primarily by military and university researchers) to a powerful
profit engine (used by pretty much everybody). Marrying industry anecdotes and
economic theory, the book examines the factors that created the Internet we
know today.
The book is different from
many other books on business history in that it focuses on innovation and
commercialization rather than invention. Greenstein defines innovation as “the
act of turning invention into something useful.” Commercial forces, he argues,
turned the Internet into something useful.
While the government laid
the groundwork for the information superhighway, pockets of industry outsiders
were responsible for paving it. “A set of actors from outside the core played
the instrumental role in commercializing the Internet,” Greenstein says. “This
was innovation from the edges.”
What do corn and e-mail
have in common?
Greenstein says the
Internet follows economic archetypes—patterns of economic behavior that show up
repeatedly throughout history. “Economic archetypes are not unique to the
Internet and have appeared in other markets or time periods,” he writes in the
book.
In one example, Greenstein
equates the spread of the Internet in the 1990s to the spread of hybrid corn in
the 1930s, citing the work of the late economist Zvi Griliches, who chaired the
Harvard Department of Economics from 1980 to 1983. In the seminal 1957 paper “Hybrid Corn: An Exploration in the Economics of
Technological Change, Griliches was
the first scholar to argue that economic forces drive technological innovation.
(Previously, economists had treated technology as an exogenous force, immune to
the rules of economics.) In How the Internet Became Commercial, Greenstein
reminds us that Griliches’ findings hold true in the Internet age, too.
“E-mail and corn deployed
much in the same way, which is not an obvious connection,” Greenstein says.
In their infancy,
Greenstein explains, both e-mail and hybrid corn faced an “adaptation
conundrum.” To succeed on a large scale, they needed to spread into new
applications and circumstances and to prove distinctively valuable to everyone
who might use them.
In the case of corn,
suppliers had to juggle the demands of buyers in different geographies (and
therefore different agricultural needs), as well as keep up with the growing
number of uses for corn. With e-mail, there were millions of customers
subscribing to many Internet service providers operating under various
standards. “You did not get the same kind of e-mail everywhere at the same time
in 1996,” Greenstein says. “In fact, it had to be adapted in multiple ways, in
multiple locations, in multiple circumstances.”
Fateful policy choices
Scholars and industry
insiders sometimes debate whether the Internet achieved commercial success
because of government policy or in spite of it. “For the most part, I’m on the
because-of-it side,” Greenstein says.
That said, he believes
that the commercialization of the Internet wasn’t a purposeful governmental
orchestration but rather a matter of the government making decisions that
enabled something huge, built up by a bunch of small players.
“The 30,000 foot lesson of
the Internet is that it’s not designed by the government,” Greenstein
says. “There’s no architect. There’s no one person who designed the whole
thing. Part of what supported it was lack of concentration from the authority.
The other big part was a modular architecture and open governance structure.
That supported many so-called ‘innovative specialists,’ who really did much of
the investing and building, which accumulated over time.”
He also notes that many of
these government policies only incidentally and retrospectively supported the
Internet. “Ninety percent of the time it looks as if all these government
actors were trying to support innovation from the edges,” Greenstein says.
“It’s as if many government policy makers had a strategy to coordinate, but
obviously that is not possible across so much time and so many decision makers.
How did that happen? It’s one of the big puzzles of the book.”
Early in the book, for
instance, he talks about how the 1982 government-ordered divestiture of
AT&T created multiple Baby Bells, whose decisions would prove integral to
developing the industry, although the Department of Justice couldn’t have known
that at the time. “The divestiture was essential to the later growth of the
Internet,” Greenstein says. “It eliminated the ability of one firm to veto what
happened next with the Internet.”
He discusses the Federal
Communications Commission’s decision to open up a particular swath of radio
spectrum for unlicensed use. At the time, that spectrum, the 2.4-GHz band, was
largely relegated to garage door openers, wireless handsets for landline
telephones, and baby monitors. “Those three applications were regarded as
‘garbage’ by snobbish engineers because they were technically uninteresting,”
Greenstein says. “They called the spectrum ‘garbage,’ too.”
That “garbage spectrum”
eventually became home to Wi-Fi.
“By making it unlicensed,
the FCC permitted the dominant use to migrate from the low value to a higher
value,” Greenstein says. “To an economist, that’s a wonderful thing. They got
rid of the Gordian knot that results from the hoarding of licensed spectrum,
which you see quite a lot in the spectrum world.”
And he writes about the
National Science Foundation grants that allowed Larry Page and Sergey Brin to
conduct research at Stanford University, which eventually gave rise to Google.
It wasn’t that the foundation guided the research, but rather that it granted
the freedom for the researchers (and their academic advisers) to pursue new
opportunities as they arose.
“Did the NSF intend to
renew the market for ad-supported Web pages?” Greenstein writes. “No, that was
not the direct intent of its funding. However, the flexibility of their funding
process helped indirectly, because it raised the chances that the research
would be relevant.”
Lessons learned
In addition to examining
the factors that led to commercial success, the book also discusses several
commercial flops—namely, companies that crashed and burned after falling prey
to the idea of Internet exceptionalism.
Case in point: Webvan, the
online grocer that went bankrupt in 2001, less than two years after a 1999
initial public offering in which it achieved a whopping $7.9 billion valuation
in its first day of trading. Caught up in the dot-com bubble, the company
stubbornly flouted basic economic tenets throughout its brief history. The
company incurred high sunk costs upon entering the market, as well as high
fixed costs during operations. Meanwhile, its margins were low, and its
customer base was too small in too many geographic locations.
“How did the Webvan people
convince themselves that somehow they could live by a different set of rules?”
Greenstein asks. “The only thing that can explain this was that they believed
and their investors believed that they didn’t have to play by the rules.”
Greenstein hopes How
the Internet Became Commercial might serve as a cautionary tale for
modern-day entrepreneurs who are too young to recall the booms and busts of the
1990s.
“The older I get, the more
I realize that the kids just don’t get it,” he says. “I’ve been to too many
tech conferences, sitting in the back, listening to business presentations and
thinking, no, that’s a really bad idea. Don’t you remember what happened in
1996? We’ve been through this already. Don’t do that!”
http://hbswk.hbs.edu/item/dear-internet-you-are-extraordinary-but-not-exceptional?cid=spmailing-12393206-WK%20Newsletter%2011-4-2015%20(1)-November%2004,%202015
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