In 2024, I began reading a biography (usually) every week, and I’ve added all those books to the Library page of this website. But I read books before 2024 too, and I want to share those as well. I aim to add them to the Library page on this site over time. A few days ago, I said I’d set myself a Memorial Day Challenge to add five of them.

I’m happy to report that I checked that box. Here are the books I added:

• Limitless by Jim Kwik
• Unknown Market Wizards by Jack Schwager
• Broken Money by Lyn Alden
• The Dhandho Investor by Mohnish Pabrai
• The Little Book That Still Beats the Market by Joel Greenblatt

This was a fun challenge. It took longer than I expected, but it was worth it. I spent a decent chunk of time reading the highlights and notes in each book. It was a nice refresher and reminded me of concepts I hadn’t revisited in almost two years.

Hopefully, sharing these books via my Library will add value to someone else.

As a first-generation entrepreneur, I’m committed to learning as much as I can about entrepreneurship. The best way I’ve found to do it is to study other entrepreneurs. To do that, I read a book every week, usually a biography. I share it in my Library on this site, and every Sunday, I post the latest book I read.

I recently listened to an interview of Josh Kopelman, founding partner of First Round Capital, a well-known, seed-stage, venture capital firm. One of Kopelman’s points is that most of the profits in venture capital are made in parts of the financial market cycle driven by “extreme f*ing greed” and “irrational disequilibrium” (see the clip here). This interview reminded me that financial market cycles have a profound impact on entrepreneurs and the investors who back them.

Last year, I read Bull!, which chronicles the financial booms and busts between 1982 and 2004. I wanted to go back further. I found exactly what I was looking for in a book that goes back hundreds of years, A Short History of Financial Euphoria. It’s short, a quick read, but does a great job of recounting history’s most famous financial bubbles—from the 1600s’ Tulip Mania to the 1980s’ junk bond frenzy and savings and loan crisis.

This book was straightforward and read like a mini biographical anthology. It details each bubble, including its origins, how it was created, and who the major players were. It describes the patterns each major speculative financial bubble follows and how to spot the signs of a bubble.

Anyone interested in the financial cycles and how to spot speculative euphoria may enjoy this book.

Recently, I started reading a book on financial history. I’m curious about the topic and think it could help me better understand the current financial landscape. I was excited when I received the book and began reading it, but I quickly realized I wasn’t feeling it. I was somewhat academic and a chore to read. The writing style wasn’t a good fit for me. I struggled to read thirty or so pages before I pulled the plug.

I’ve put pre-read steps in place to reduce the likelihood that I’ll start reading a book I won’t like, so this hasn’t occurred in many months. Because it isn’t happening as often, I second-guessed myself for a moment before I realized that I wasn’t the problem. The book was.

I read to gain wisdom from others and an understanding of topics that interest me. If a book isn’t helping me achieve those goals, I need to move on and find another book that will. There’s no shame in that. I’ve got an objective, and I’m on a mission. The world is full of books. If one isn’t working, there are plenty more to take its place.

I enjoy reading books from start to finish, one book at a time. But I’m not going to waste time. I finish books only if they align with what I’m trying to accomplish and aren’t a struggle to digest or comprehend.

I’ve committed to learning as much as I can about entrepreneurship, and the best way I’ve found to do it is by studying entrepreneurs. Reading about their journeys is my preferred method. I read a book every week, usually a biography, and then share it in my Library on this site. Every Sunday, I post the latest book I read.

Last summer, I read Call Me Ted, an autobiography by Ted Turner. The book is a great recap of Turner’s entire career through 2008 or so. But when I read it, I could tell Ted was speaking from the perspective of a wiser man who had calmed down a lot. I enjoyed that perspective, but I wanted to hear from Ted in his prime, when he was full of energy and said outlandish things publicly on a daily basis.

I did some digging and found another book. Last week, I read a biography of Turner, Lead, Follow or Get Out of the Way by Christian Williams. Williams was attached to Turner’s hip throughout 1979 and 1980. He saw and heard a lot. He was even aboard Turner’s yachts for some of his famous and tragic races.

The thing I like most about this book is that it’s filled with quotations of things Ted said. He was brash and direct, to put it mildly. His words offer a unique insight about his thinking and mind during, arguably, his prime. A period when he was undertaking some of his most ambitious projects (e.g., launching CNN), fighting some of his fiercest battles with competitors and regulators, and racing yachts all over the world (and winning, too).

If you’re interested in learning about the early years of Ted’s journey, how he was thinking at the time, and the details of what he was doing, consider reading this biography.

I love studying entrepreneurs. Reading about their journeys is the best way for me to do it. I’m reading a book every week, usually a biography, and then sharing it in my Library on this site. Every Sunday, I’m posting the latest book I read.

Last month I read Netflixed, a biography about—you guessed it—Netflix. The book mentioned Andre Blay and how he pioneered the VHS industry, which helped birth the home video rental industry. According to that book, Blay laid the foundation for Blockbuster and then Netflix.

This week, I read Blay’s memoir about his journey as an “entertainment entrepreneur.” Pre-Recorded History, published in 2010, describes how he became the “founder of the home video industry.”

Blay’s memoir was about more than his own journey; he delineated the backstory of the movie industry and provided a detailed timeline of each movie studio’s chain of ownership and significant events. He then described how working with Learjet founder Bill Lear (who also created the 8-track stereo system) and then at a tape-duplication company that acquired music rights from Motown Records gave him the idea for recorded movies on VHS.

Blay’s idea, combined with new VCR technology in the late 1970s, led to explosions of consumers watching movies at home and video rental stores to satisfy the demand. Between 1978 and 1985, around 20,000 video rental stores, mostly mom-and-pop outfits, sprang up across the country. In 1981, the first year data was recorded, pre-recorded home entertainment retail sales reached $500 million. By 1999, they were $16 billion, according to Blay.

If you’re interested in learning about how technology disrupted the way Hollywood distributed movies, leading to the rise of Netflix, or about how movie distribution deals are structured, consider giving this book a read.

I learned the growth hack The New York Times used to explode readership.

Last week I read An Honorable Titan, a biography about Adolph Ochs, who acquired The New York Times and turned the paper into an institution. Adolph executed this strategy in around 1900, but I think it’s ingenious and something others could find helpful. So, what’d he do exactly?

The Times’s daily circulation was stuck at 26,000, and it was losing money. The Times made money from sales at newsstands and advertising revenue. Adolph determined that he needed to double his circulation to 50,000 to break even.

His paper was respected and sold for the going rate of $0.03. Papers that sold for less than that were deemed sensationalized and from the yellow press. These lower-quality papers sold for $0.01. At the time, the thinking was that anyone who wanted to read a respectable paper would have $0.03. The $0.01 and $0.03 tiers were accepted pricing norms.

This pricing logic didn’t make sense to Adolph, and he decided to blow it up. He hypothesized that “the requisite number of readers could be found among those to whom the difference between three dollars a year and ten dollars a year for a newspaper was a material difference.” Using this logic, he priced the Times at $0.01. The move shocked everyone. His advisers and other publishers thought he was crazy because he essentially reduced his revenue from newsstand sales by 66%. Said differently, he had been losing money before, and he would lose money faster—and be wiped out—if he were wrong.

A funny thing happened. Circulation skyrocketed from 26,000 to 75,000. This jump allowed him to increase advertising rates because more people saw the ads. The Times went from losing money to being solidly profitable. The newspaper world called Adolph’s move a stroke of genius.

What did Adolph see that others had missed?

The unsaid and accepted logic behind pricing at that time was that the poor were unintelligent and, therefore, had no desire to read a respectable paper. Adolph recognized that intelligence is evenly distributed through the population at all economic levels. Doing the math, he realized that the rich are a small percentage of the population and if intelligence is evenly distributed, there was huge unmet demand among the largest segment of the population, the poor.

If, say, 10% of people are intelligent and 100 people are rich, 10 would desire a respectable paper like the Times. If 1,000 people are poor, 100 would want the paper if it was affordable.

Adolph didn’t just accept the status quo. He did his own thinking to reach his own conclusions instead of accepting the thinking of others. This approach allowed him to see an opportunity everyone stared at but couldn’t see.

Two weeks ago, I read a second biography about Albert Lasker, The Man Who Sold America. It mentioned how Lasker worked with Adolph Ochs, who owned The New York Times, to free Leo Frank, who had been charged with the murder of Mary Phagan in Atlanta in 1913. Lasker and Ochs, both Jewish, felt Frank was being wrongly accused because he was Jewish. Learning how Lasker and Ochs created a sophisticated media campaign to draw attention to this case nationally was fascinating.

I’d never heard of Ochs, but I was curious about his journey and how he became the owner of The New York Times. This week, I began reading a biography about him, An Honorable Titan, by Gerald Johnson.

I’m early in the book, but I’ve already been surprised by Ochs’s history: The publisher of a nationally recognized and New York–based newspaper dropped out of school at 14. He wasn’t from an elite family or background. He had to start working full-time at 14.

Adolph began his career as an information entrepreneur in Chattanooga, Tennessee, where he sold a directory at age 19. In 1878, he and a partner created a directory of all the businesses in Chattanooga. This was a manual effort requiring them to canvass the entire city house-by-house to collect the information before they compiled it in a book.

The benefit of this grunt work was that Adolph developed a detailed understanding of the town, its businesses, and the entrepreneurs who owned them. His directory became a valuable resource that allowed him to establish relationships with all the entrepreneurs in town and add value to them by providing aggregated information about where to buy goods and services.

Adolph was selling information that, for the most part, was readily available to everyone in Chattanooga. But by compiling it and making it easy to use, he created something of value that others were happy to pay for. It’s not exactly the same, but it reminds me of how Michael Bloomberg took publicly available bond market data, centralized it, and made it easy for people to make buy-and-sell decisions around bonds (more here). The information product is still, as of this writing, the anchor of his empire and over $100 billion fortune.

It’s interesting how these two information entrepreneurs took a similar approach when they started out though there’s a 100-year gap between them.

I’m curious to learn more about Ochs and how all this led him to The New York Times.

Yesterday, I shared what I learned about how much of the company each Netflix cofounder owned (see here). I also learned from reading Netflix’s S-1 document that VC firm Technology Crossover Ventures (TCV) owned roughly 43% before the IPO and roughly 34% after it. I learned that TCV partner and cofounder Jay C. Hoag has been a Netflix board member since 1999 (see here). Jay and TCV invested before the IPO, so they’ve seen the company go from a promising start-up worth tens of millions to a global, publicly traded company worth over $400 billion.

I view investors who found investment firms as entrepreneurs, so I was curious to learn more about Jay and TCV. I’m early in my research, but I found Jay’s interview (listen here) from 2021 on the Invest Like the Best podcast. A few things I found interesting:

• Netflix stock traded down 15–20% after the 2002 IPO and stayed down for about six months.
• TCV was founded as a private and public (i.e., “crossover”) investor. This means that it invests in private technology companies (i.e., start-ups) and technology companies traded publicly on the stock exchanges.
• In 2011, TCV made a PIPE investment in Netflix after the stock had declined 70%. The stock traded down further after the PIPE investment, which was for $400 million, with T. Rowe Price participating, too. More details are here and here.  
• “By being a private investor, it made us better public market investors” and “By being a public market investor, it made us better private investors.”
• “The capital allocation exercise is to look across the technology landscape, take advantage of all the research and knowledge that we have, and look for the best investment . . . and not be bucketed by either private or public.”

Jay and TCV also invested in Zillow, Peloton, Facebook, Airbnb, Tripadvisor, Spotify, and many more wildly successful technology companies. I’m excited to learn more about Hoad and what led to his outsize success.

Last week I read a biography about Netflix’s early years, That Will Never Work. In one of my posts, I shared how the Netflix cofounders initially divided ownership between the two of them: about 68% for Reed Hastings and about 30% for Marc Randolph. I also shared in a separate post that Marc gave Reed some of his shares in the company when Reed took over as CEO about a year after the company was founded. Both posts were based on what Marc wrote in the biography.

The last part of the book is about going public in 2002 and the day of the IPO. According to my research, the company’s market capitalization (valuation) when it went public was around $300 million (now, it’s more than 1,300 times more: over $410 billion). I was curious how much of the company each cofounder owned when Netflix went public, so I did some digging. I found the company’s 2002 S-1 Registration Statement it filed so it could go public; what I was looking for is on page 66. Here are the details:

• Reed Hastings owned 20% of the company before the IPO and roughly 15% after it. His 15% stake was worth roughly $45 million.
• Marc Randolph owned roughly 5.5% of the company before the IPO and roughly 4% after it. His 4% stake was worth roughly $12 million.

An interesting data point in the S-1 is that VC firm Technology Crossover Ventures (TCV) owned roughly 43% before the IPO and roughly 34% after it. TCV’s ownership stake can be seen on page 66 of the S-1. It’s under the name of TCV founding partner Jay C. Hoag, who is also on the Netflix board. In the biography, Marc says TCV led the company’s series C in early 1999 with a $6 million check and, in April 2000, ten days before the dot-com bubble burst, invested $40 million. IPO documents (page 61) show that TCV invested another $8.3 million in July 2001 via a promissory note and warrants. After the company went public, TCV’s 34% stake was worth roughly $102 million.

The above isn’t a complete picture of everything that happened between the company’s founding and its IPO. Other financial transactions (such as stock options being issued, founders selling shares via secondary transactions, etc.) likely impacted each founder’s ownership at the time of IPO.

I enjoyed Marc’s description of the early days of Netflix. It was helpful for me to see the data around company ownership at IPO.

I finished reading That Will Never Work, the biography about Netflix’s early years. Cofounder and first CEO Marc Randolph’s perspective on taking the company from idea to IPO in seven years is full of wisdom that entrepreneurs will find helpful.

One of his principles I enjoyed was what Marc and Reed Hastings call the “Canada Principle.” For the first twelve years, Netflix served only the United States. But several times during that period, they thought about expanding into Canada. It was close, so shipping costs would be low (it was shipping DVDs then), and the regulatory environment was friendly. Canada looked like low-hanging fruit.

But first appearances were deceiving.

When they dug into it, they learned it would be complicated:

• French is the main language spoken in some parts of Canada, so they’d have translation issues.
• Canadian dollars differ from U.S. dollars, so they’d have to deal with currency issues.
• The postal system in Canada was different, so special envelopes would be necessary.

When they ran the numbers, they learned they’d get a roughly 10% revenue boost by expanding into Canada.

They then considered the “effort, manpower, and mind-power” required to expand into Canada. It would be a big lift for their team. Then they analyzed how much they could increase revenue if they applied the same amount of effort to other aspects of the business.

Using that framework to evaluate the decision made things crystal clear. If they applied that effort in other areas, they could get a far greater return by increasing revenue considerably more than 10%. Expanding into Canada wasn’t the best way to allocate their resources. The return was too low relative to other options requiring similar effort.

They realized that Canada was a short-term, obvious move that would provide short-term benefits. “It would have diluted our focus,” wrote Marc.

After this experience, Netflix adopted what Marc calls the “Canada Principle.” When faced with options, evaluate the potential return of each of them and the effort and resources required to generate it. Pick the highest-return activity and focus on it. Don’t spread yourself thin and lose focus by doing low-return activities.

Marc and Reed realized, through trial and error, that focus is a superpower and that if they could focus on the right high-return activities, they’d have a competitive advantage. The Canada Principle became key to deciding what initiatives to pursue or kill.

The Canada Principle led the company to stop selling physical DVDs and focus entirely on subscription rentals, even though DVD sales were 90% of their revenue. It also helped them decide against pursuing automated DVD rental kiosks, despite promising results from months of testing. (Side note: a team member on the kiosk project helped found Redbox.) All of these were the right decisions. They kept the company focused. They leapfrogged competitors and built a behemoth that’s now publicly traded and has a market capitalization (valuation) of over $410 billion as of this writing.

I didn’t have a name for it when I was building my company, but I applied the Canada Principle several times when making strategic decisions. It was sometimes painful in the short run, but it usually led to the best long-term decision.