Peter Thiel Analysis

US vs China Trade War

Key Points
  • Thiel supports the tariffs because he believes bilateral trade relations that are asymmetric should be fixed. He highlighted what he believes is a sign that today's trade dynamics are "strange" and used it to justify the tariffs.
  • According to a neoclassical economic model, since developing countries like India or China have lower capital to labor ratios, investors can expect higher returns on the capital they invest there. If capital is assumed to be mobile, this means that logically capital should flow from richer to poorer nations. “Capital should be flowing from the U.S. to invest in China, and China should have trade deficits that offset the flows,” he said during the Fox interview with anchor Maria Bartiromo, who also conducted the other interview. “The U.S., the slower growing economy, has the trade deficits and the investments are flowing from poor people in China into the U.S. economy. It’s completely backwards. That tells us something is very strange in terms of the trade dynamics.”
  • Thiel spoke at the New York Economic Club of the “relatively open, free trade world” of the early 1900s when the UK had a current account surplus of 4% of GDP and capital got exported to Russia and Argentina. “That’s the way globalization is supposed to look,” the former Trump adviser said. He thinks capital flowing the wrong way should push U.S. policymakers to ask questions like, "Why does nobody in China not want to buy anything from the U.S.? Why are our goods so undesirable? Are there policies that skew things too much towards consumption in the U.S. and more toward investment in other places and should we be rethinking that? Or are there intellectual property things that are not being enforced?" Thiel on Fox directly linked the "uphill" flow of money to trade deficits. He said, "The reason it's happening is because of these enormous trade deficits. There is far more Chinese investment in the U.S. than U.S. investment in China." To which Bartiromo responded, “That makes sense.
  • "China has a current account surplus largely as a result of its high savings rate – both corporate savings and household savings are high, for a variety of reasons. The surplus does not primarily result from unfair trade practices or protectionism by China, even though those are genuine problems," said Andrew Kenningham of Capital Economics. "Conversely, the U.S. has a deficit largely because it saves so little – particularly households, also the government." He also pointed out the example of capital flowing from Nigeria to London because of corruption, not protectionism.
  • Bartiromo asked Thiel at the ECNY event if he was worried about the "hair on fire commentary about a trade war." He responded it is quite unclear to him where China can reciprocate on the tariffs because the U.S. is exporting so little and "there's no Chinese response possible."

Interview with Financial Times


      Peter Thiel has only just sat down at a corner table in Palo Alto’s Evvia restaurant and he is already into a disquisition on the history of financial bubbles. “This,” he declares, after listing the frequent market eruptions of the past three decades, “is historically very anomalous. There was one bubble in the 1920s and one in the 1720s.” It is the sort of sweeping statement, delivered with flat finality, that Thiel thrives on. Since he has made billion-dollar fortunes twice over, in very different corners of the investment world (though one of the billions was promptly lost again), you’re inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. But you also can’t help thinking: really? What of the railroad bubble of the 1870s or the periodic booms and busts of capitalism’s gilded age? As with many of the eclectic assertions Thiel (pronounced “teal”) uses to pepper his conversation – allusions to Dickens and Shakespeare as well as the broad swaths of economic, technological and political history – you wish you could secretly Google under the table to fact-check. Now the 46-year-old Facebook billionaire, former hedge fund star and self-styled libertarian Big Thinker is ready to declare one final bubble. This time it is the result of excessive government borrowing to refloat a world struggling to get beyond the financial crisis. With this, he argues, we have arrived at the Last Bubble. There will be no more. Period. Evvia is a Greek taverna that gives off a complacent lunchtime hubbub in this wealthy Silicon Valley enclave. It is half a block from the location on University Avenue where Facebook had its start. The $500,000 Thiel invested in the company in 2004 made him its first outside backer and has entered Valley legend: at the time of Facebook’s initial public offering last year, his personal stake was worth $1.25bn. The same building is now home to Palantir, a secretive data-mining company that made its name working for the CIA and which is among Thiel’s most successful recent investments with his venture capital firm Founders Fund. A couple of blocks further down the road is the spot where PayPal, the online payments company that he co-founded during the dotcom boom before selling out to eBay in 2002, started life. Thiel, who trained as a lawyer and worked as an investment banker before making it big among the engineers of Silicon Valley, arrives looking trim and wearing a blue V-neck sweater with no shirt underneath. He initially suggested breakfast: he has more time in the mornings. But, in the event, he seems happy to spend more than two hours over lunch holding forth on the state of the world. His manner is both purposeful and wary. He seems unabashed about making declarative statements that take a big swing at controversial ideas but cloaks them in hesitant “ums” and takes several runs at formulating his thoughts. He begins almost every statement with the words “I think”, as though politely leaving it up to the listener to choose whether to swallow each new assertion as undeniable fact. Such as: “And of course, um, and of course as a libertarian, I think it’s imperative that we stop another massive terrorist attack on the US because the worst thing that could happen to this country is that we could get another Patriot Act.” Diving head first into big ideas is a mark of the high seriousness that Silicon Valley types like to affect, and Thiel is no exception. Though it isn’t entirely down to him that we plunged into the history of financial bubbles with barely a moment for niceties. I had reminded him of a conversation we had several years ago, before the housing bubble became apparent. Thiel, whose Clarium Capital hedge fund was then nearing the peak of its success, predicted that further success in the investment game would depend on being able to ride a series of unexpected booms and busts in unconnected parts of the financial world. The good years in the middle of the past decade brought Clarium Capital a gusher of cash from new investors, inflating its value to more than $7bn. But following a few bad bets, the hot money flowed out again. His summation: “We had, basically, six very strong years and then, basically, two-and-a-half bad years.” He admits to outright investment gaffes but says his biggest mistake was taking short-term money from investors who blinked when times got tough – particularly since his investments turned on making unorthodox bets that went against conventional wisdom. One miscue was to cling to a bearish position throughout 2009 and 2010, in the face of a broad market rally. At one point, Clarium had lost 70 per cent of its value. He still displays signs of bitterness, as much over his investors’ unwillingness to give him credit for his contrarian successes in the good years as for the way they fled when times got tough. “They’ll still be kind of annoyed because you made money and [think] you got lucky,” he says.

      Thiel knows the menu well and is solicitous. He recommends the lemon soup but declares it “all quite good”. We both order the soup to start, and fish for the main course. Venture capital, where success depends on picking winners in the next hot tech markets and sticking with them, seems a long way from riding booms and busts as a hedge fund manager. In Thiel’s world, however, all things are connected, as he stitches ideas together into a grand unifying theory of our times. The pieces fit together something like this. The historically anomalous bubbles of recent years – Japan’s stock market boom of the 1980s, the dotcom mania of the 1990s, the housing finance frenzy of the past decade and, now, the government bubble – all resulted from the fact that people retained outsized expectations for the future, even as reality came up short. Twitter may not be enough to take civilisation to the next level The reason for this expectation gap, Thiel argues, is that technological progress came to a halt at the end of the 1960s. As the website of Founders Fund declares: “We wanted flying cars, instead we got 140 characters.” Thiel is still making it up to Twitter for this jab: it’s a perfectly fine company, he says, and may even be worth the high valuation placed on it by Wall Street, though he adds with deadpan irony that “it may not be enough to take civilisation to the next level”. No matter that Thiel has made a fortune on Facebook (according to Forbes, his total wealth is $1.8bn): the internet, in his version of events, has not been enough to make up for an innovation shortfall. He is wary of talking publicly about Facebook, since he still sits on its board. But he does say this about the company: “The nuanced truth is, Facebook is a great company, it is a specific success – it is not, however, enough to save our civilisation. Those are not inconsistent statements, you know.” As to why progress stalled, he says he is less certain. But if pressed it becomes apparent that he has plenty of theories. In one succinct formulation, he puts it this way: “We landed on the moon in July 1969 and Woodstock started three weeks later. With the benefit of hindsight, that’s when the hippies won and somehow progress sort of died, the idea of progress came to an end.” The food arrives. The egg-lemon soup has a pasty texture but tastes good, so I decide that means it’s probably authentically Greek. I ask Thiel if he follows the paleo diet, which involves cutting out grains, potatoes and refined sugar and has become popular among Silicon Valley strivers (and which I confess to following sporadically myself). He says he goes “back and forth on it” but then offers a typically assertive theory. “You should not eat sugar. In almost everything there are different permutations of what one can do but if you drastically cut your sugar consumption, I think you’ll be much healthier. That’s the only rule.” We move to the challenges of self-improvement. At the start of this year Thiel, who in his youth was a nationally ranked chess player, decided that an hour-and-a-half a day spent playing online chess was too much wasted time, so he deleted the program from his computer – only to download and then delete it again “maybe a dozen times” since. I push him for other shortcomings, with the argument that no one will believe an excess of chess-playing is his main character flaw. He cautiously offers bad time management and says he is “not that detail-oriented.” What about seeing other people’s points of view, I suggest? “I think I’ve gotten better at that over the years,” he says. “I think in my twenties I tended to think of all people as sort of more or less alike.”

      He goes on: “I now think that people are really different in all these subtle ways that are very important. So if you give critical feedback to people, there are some people who will be in tears and others with whom it won’t even register.” He sounds equally uncomfortable discussing himself. The “ums” multiply as he tries to explain why he threw in law and banking and came to Silicon Valley to pursue something far more world-changing. “There was this decision to move back to California and try something new and different,” he says as though it were something that happened to someone else. He is similarly vague when talking about the origins of his personal philosophy. “I’ve always been very interested in ideas and trying to figure things out.” His undergraduate degree, from Stanford University, was in philosophy but his stance against the dominant political philosophy on many issues seems more visceral than intellectual. “I think that one of the most contrarian things one can do in our society is try to think for oneself,” he says. He only really regains his stride when talking about how technological ambition has gone from the world, leaving what he calls an “age of diminished expectations that has slowly seeped into the culture”. Predictably, given his libertarian bent, much of this is traced back to regulation. This is his explanation for why the computer industry (which inhabits “the world of bits”) has thrived while so many others (“the world of atoms”) have not. “The world of bits has not been regulated and that’s where we’ve seen a lot of progress in the past 40 years, and the world of atoms has been regulated, and that’s why it’s been hard to get progress in areas like biotechnology and aviation and all sorts of material science areas.” … The main courses have long since arrived and Thiel has been picking at his salmon without much interest while ignoring the dollop of mashed potato on the side. The dark wedge of collard greens on my plate packs a rich and tangy punch, like swallowing a week’s supply of vitamins in one go, though it rather overshadows the sole alongside. Despite occasional bouts of determinism – “On my bad days I find the sort of Spenglerian decline of the west very compelling” – Thiel says he believes in the unconstrained ability of individuals to make a difference. But, he complains, “People have become too incrementalist and too risk-averse and not trying hard enough.” He holds up Elon Musk, a friend from the PayPal days and now head of both electric carmaker Tesla Motors and private rocket company SpaceX, as an example of how big ideas can still flourish. By comparison, says Thiel, most people are trapped by social conformity into spouting received ideas, from “the average liberal in San Francisco …[to] the average church lady in Alabama”. The result, he says, is that “I never know how much people believe any of the stuff they say”. Despite this, he still claims to be an optimist. Though his is not the kind that seems endemic in Silicon Valley, where a Pollyanna-ish belief in the best outcome reigns supreme. “I believe things could be a lot better,” he says, in self-justification. “There are all these things that aren’t being done.” The fact that “we’re not finding cures to cancer” or that a third of people past the age of 85 have Alzheimer’s, for instance, is a “crazy catastrophe”. “I think that all these things could be eminently curable,” he says. “I think that we could find much cheaper sources of energy if we worked at this. I think there could be, you know, radical life extension.” Although Founders Fund has stayed away from energy, which has proved a graveyard for start-up investors, it has backed a number of new biotech and healthcare businesses with ambitious goals. For Thiel, only an acceleration of technology can provide the solution. Take the problem of uncontrolled government surveillance. While many would see that as the result of too much technology in the hands of an unchecked intelligence establishment, Thiel thinks there isn’t enough. “If you can figure out effective ways to identify terrorists, then you don’t need to be as intrusive. It’s a lack of technology that drives intrusive behaviour,” he says. This is the sort of problem Palantir is trying to solve.

      Over coffee, I have another go at the personal stuff. I wonder how he feels about the caricature of him as a techno-utopian libertarian billionaire. Is he concerned about being seen as, well, flaky? “If that’s the meanest thing they said about me, I’d be happy about that,” he counters. He claims that, ultimately, libertarianism – though not about to become a dominant ideology in the US – is now an influential strand of thinking that will have a bearing over the next decade on issues as varied as whether to intervene in foreign wars or to legalise marijuana. And he saves a last jab for the Tea Party movement and its attempt to reach back to the past in search of solutions to the problems of the present. “We can’t go back to the past. If you literally went back to the past, you’d just get back to the messed-up present. We need to think of a future that’s different from the past.” It’s past two o’clock and the taverna, with its own archaic echoes of a culture from far away, has almost emptied. Polite and attentive to the last, Thiel makes sure he has given a thorough response to any outstanding questions. Then he is gone as abruptly as he arrived, leaving a faint echo of the future.

Interview with New Yorkers


      Peter Thiel, the Silicon Valley billionaire investor, seemed out of place, diminished, when he walked up to a podium at the National Press Club on Monday. Thiel has made a fortune and cultivated a public persona based on his confident predictions about technologies that most of us barely understand. His mode of talking, in the past, could be called utopian/dystopian Manicheanism. He has described a marvellous world that could be—space colonies and abundance fuelled by biotech, cheap energy, and brilliant robots—and then explained why our risk-averse culture and stifling, confiscatory government prevent us from achieving what should be ours. At this most recent speech, though, he spoke about a topic we know all too well: Donald Trump. The core of Thiel’s message came in a line that seemed designed to generate laughs. “No one would suggest that Donald Trump is a humble man,” Thiel said. “But the big things he’s right about amount to a much-needed dose of humility in our politics.” Suggesting humility as Trump’s true strength is essential Thiel: provocative, surprising, and based on the idea that he sees something in plain sight that the rest of us have missed.

      Thiel was one of the few successful businesspeople to endorse Trump at the Republican National Convention this summer and, more recently, he pledged $1.25 million to support his campaign. While this is a trivial amount to Thiel, personally, and would be unremarkable in a normal Presidential campaign, it is among the largest single gifts in support of Trump (most of the money was given to a super pac that backs Trump) and generated enormous anger among Thiel’s peers. After hearing calls to have Thiel kicked off the board of directors of Facebook, Mark Zuckerberg wrote a note to staff defending him. “There are many reasons a person might support Trump that do not involve racism, sexism, xenophobia or accepting sexual assault,” Zuckerberg wrote. Similarly, Sam Altman, the president of Y Combinator, an influential startup incubator, wrote a series of tweets simultaneously attacking Trump for being “abusive, erratic . . . unfit to be President” and also defending his decision to keep Thiel as an adviser to Y Combinator; “YC is not going to fire someone for supporting a major party nominee.” Soon after the controversy arose in mid-October, Thiel announced plans to give this talk to defend himself and the man he wants to be President. His speech is unlikely to change minds about Trump, though it probably will shift how some people think of Thiel. It revealed that, contrary to his pose as a Delphic seer and public considerer of the inconceivable, he is a conventional, right-leaning scold, comfortable with vague assertions. (Thiel also responded to questions about his secret financing of Hulk Hogan’s lawsuit against Gawker for publishing Hogan’s sex tape, offering the dual argument that he was driven by a desire to give Hogan—a mere “single-digit millionaire”—his day in court and to protect the First Amendment.)

      Thiel laid out a grim, near-apocalyptic view of America, one in which citizens are “stuck in a broken system” and as he put it in the post-talk discussion, that America “is on the Titanic and we’re going to sink.” He listed familiar reasons for American despair: rising medical costs, a huge trade deficit, student debt. The protagonists in his national drama are Trump voters that he, generously, counts as fifty per cent of the American population. The villains are élites in their coastal bubbles of Silicon Valley and Washington, D.C., who “do not intend to tolerate the views of half this country.” These élites, he said, have destroyed our government’s competence. The U.S., he argued, used to do great things like sending people to the moon and building the interstate highway system, but now it can’t do anything right. He supports Donald Trump, he said, because Trump “rejects the false, reassuring stories that tell us everything is fine.” Thiel explained: “Very unusually for a Presidential candidate, he has questioned the core concept of American exceptionalism. He doesn’t think the force of optimism alone can change reality without hard work. Just as it’s about making America great, Trump’s agenda is about making America a normal country.” Thiel defined a normal country as one that doesn’t have a trade deficit, doesn’t fight many wars, and that has a government that “actually does its job.” While some of Thiel’s statements were explicitly wrong—far fewer than half of Americans support Trump, whose unfavorable ratings have hovered around sixty per cent—most were what might be called truth-adjacent. Yes, student debt has risen and there are real issues to address, but it is hardly a sign that the nation is in collapse. (Thiel is famous for railing not just against student debt but also against the idea that a college education is worthwhile.) Trade has, indeed, hurt many Americans, but it has also helped many others—and the help far outweighs the hurt. Also, it is not just a tiny coastal élite who support it; most Americans do. The U.S. has a pretty “normal” trade deficit, lower than that of Canada, New Zealand, and the United Kingdom. Thiel’s talk felt much like other political speeches. The building blocks of his argument were a mishmash of decontextualized thoughts reassembled to form a simplistic narrative of good and evil, heroes and strawmen. Thiel’s odd but fascinating past statement suggested the possibility of a thoughtful, if idiosyncratic, synthesis of libertarianism and Trumpian populism. But that wasn’t the case. Thiel’s speech—celebrating big government projects, condemning trade and the price of a college education—was as much a rebuke of libertarianism as of Republicanism.

      Thiel has earned his place among technology visionaries. He created PayPal and was among the first to understand Facebook’s power. I’d be curious to hear what he thinks the next decade holds for Internet-related startups. He used to present radical libertarian views that didn’t catch on but were fun to hear about. He was, for example, probably the most famous supporter of the seasteading movement, which imagined anarcho-libertarian societies built on artificial islands. Some of his statements over the years have been very troubling. In 1998, he co-authored a book condemning affirmative action and diversity efforts on college campuses as anti-white. Ten years later, he wrote, “I no longer believe that freedom and democracy are compatible.” He explained his thinking, in part, by pointing out that women got the vote and women are “notoriously tough for libertarians.” Thiel received a bit of a pass for these offensive ideas because they seemed to be the unfortunate side effects of his radical libertarianism and the privilege of a deep thinker exploring the outer reaches of acceptable discourse.

      But the man who spoke at the National Press Club had no deep, coherent philosophy. He seemed libertarian at times and, at others, he supported a far more activist government. Throughout, he presented an insufficiently examined enumeration of urges and angers, not a program for governance. His ideas are such an odd assortment of left-wing, right-wing, and wingless nihilism that it’s hard to think of any movement or thinker that shares them—other than Donald Trump.

Zero to One Book

Preface: Zero to One
  • “EVERY MOMENT IN BUSINESS happens only once. The next Bill Gates will not build an operating system. The next Larry Page or Sergey Brin won’t make a search engine. And the next Mark Zuckerberg won’t create a social network. If you are copying these guys, you aren’t learning from them.”
  • “Of course, it’s easier to copy a model than to make something new. Doing what we already know how to do takes the world from 1 to n, adding more of something familiar. But every time we create something new, we go from 0 to 1. The act of creation is singular, as is the moment of creation, and the result is something fresh and strange. Unless they invest in the difficult task of creating new things, American companies will fail in the future no matter how big their profits remain today. What happens when we’ve gained everything to be had from fine-tuning the old lines of business that we’ve inherited? Unlikely as it sounds, the answer threatens to be far worse than the crisis of 2008. Today’s “best practices” lead to dead ends; the best paths are new and untried.”
  • “In a world of gigantic administrative bureaucracies both public and private, searching for a new path might seem like hoping for a miracle. Actually, if American business is going to succeed, we are going to need hundreds, or even thousands, of miracles. This would be depressing but for one crucial fact: humans are distinguished from other species by our ability to work miracles. We call these miracles technology.”
  • “Technology is miraculous because it allows us to do more with less, ratcheting up our fundamental capabilities to a higher level. Other animals are instinctively driven to build things like dams or honeycombs, but we are the only ones that can invent new things and better ways of making them. Humans don’t decide what to build by making choices from some cosmic catalog of options given in advance; instead, by creating new technologies, we rewrite the plan of the world. These are the kind of elementary truths we teach to second graders, but they are easy to forget in a world where so much of what we do is repeat what has been done before.
  • “Zero to One is about how to build companies that create new things. It draws on everything I’ve learned directly as a co-founder of PayPal and Palantir and then an investor in hundreds of startups, including Facebook and SpaceX. But while I have noticed many patterns, and I relate them here, this book offers no formula for success. The paradox of teaching entrepreneurship is that such a formula necessarily cannot exist; because every innovation is new and unique, no authority can prescribe in concrete terms how to be innovative. Indeed, the single most powerful pattern I have noticed is that successful people find value in unexpected places, and they do this by thinking about business from first principles instead of formulas.”
  • “This book stems from a course about startups that I taught at Stanford in 2012. College students can become extremely skilled at a few specialties, but many never learn what to do with those skills in the wider world. My primary goal in teaching the class was to help my students see beyond the tracks laid down by academic specialties to the broader future that is theirs to create. One of those students, Blake Masters, took detailed class notes, which circulated far beyond the campus, and in Zero to One I have worked with him to revise the notes for a wider audience. There’s no reason why the future should happen only at Stanford, or in college, or in Silicon Valley.”
Chapter 1: The Challenge of The Future


Chapter 2: Party Like It's 1999

  • “MANIA: SEPTEMBER 1998–MARCH 2000”

Chapter 3: All Happy Companies Are Different


Chapter 4: The Ideology of Competition


Chapter 5: Last Mover Advantage


Chapter 6: You Are Not a Lottery Ticket


Chapter 7: Follow the Money


Chapter 8: Secrets


Chapter 9: Foundations


Chapter 10: The Mechanics of Mafia


Chapter 11: If You Build It, Will They Come?


Chapter 12: Man and Machine


Chapter 13: Seeing Green

  • “TESLA: 7 FOR 7”
  • ENERGY 2.0

Chapter 14: The Founder's Paradox


Conclusion: Stagnation or Singularity?
  • “IF EVEN THE MOST FARSIGHTED founders cannot plan beyond the next 20 to 30 years, is there anything to say about the very distant future? We don’t know anything specific, but we can make out the broad contours. Philosopher Nick Bostrom describes four possible patterns for the future of humanity.”
  • “The ancients saw all of history as a neverending alternation between prosperity and ruin. Only recently have people dared to hope that we might permanently escape misfortune, and it’s still possible to wonder whether the stability we take for granted will last.”
  • “However, we usually suppress our doubts. Conventional wisdom seems to assume instead that the whole world will converge toward a plateau of development similar to the life of the richest countries today. In this scenario, the future will look a lot like the present.”
  • “Given the interconnected geography of the contemporary world and the unprecedented destructive power of modern weaponry, it’s hard not to ask whether a large-scale social disaster could be contained were it to occur. This is what fuels our fears of the third possible scenario: a collapse so devastating that we won’t survive it.”
  • “The last of the four possibilities is the hardest one to imagine: accelerating takeoff toward a much better future. The end result of such a breakthrough could take a number of forms, but any one of them would be so different from the present as to defy description.”
  • “Which of the four will it be? Recurrent collapse seems unlikely: the knowledge underlying civilization is so widespread today that complete annihilation would be more probable than a long period of darkness followed by recovery. However, in case of extinction, there is no human future of any kind to consider.”
  • “If we define the future as a time that looks different from the present, then most people aren’t expecting any future at all; instead, they expect coming decades to bring more globalization, convergence, and sameness. In this scenario, poorer countries will catch up to richer countries, and the world as a whole will reach an economic plateau. But even if a truly globalized plateau were possible, could it last? In the best case, economic competition would be more intense than ever before for every single person and firm on the planet.”
  • “However, when you add competition to consume scarce resources, it’s hard to see how a global plateau could last indefinitely. Without new technology to relieve competitive pressures, stagnation is likely to erupt into conflict. In case of conflict on a global scale, stagnation collapses into extinction.”
  • “That leaves the fourth scenario, in which we create new technology to make a much better future. The most dramatic version of this outcome is called the Singularity, an attempt to name the imagined result of new technologies so powerful as to transcend the current limits of our understanding. Ray Kurzweil, the best-known Singularitarian, starts from Moore’s law and traces exponential growth trends in dozens of fields, confidently projecting a future of superhuman artificial intelligence. According to Kurzweil, “the Singularity is near,” it’s inevitable, and all we have to do is prepare ourselves to accept it.”
  • “But no matter how many trends can be traced, the future won’t happen on its own. What the Singularity would look like matters less than the stark choice we face today between the two most likely scenarios: nothing or something. It’s up to us. We cannot take for granted that the future will be better, and that means we need to work to create it today.”
  • “Whether we achieve the Singularity on a cosmic scale is perhaps less important than whether we seize the unique opportunities we have to do new things in our own working lives. Everything important to us—the universe, the planet, the country, your company, your life, and this very moment—is singular.”
  • “Our task today is to find singular ways to create the new things that will make the future not just different, but better—to go from 0 to 1. The essential first step is to think for yourself. Only by seeing our world anew, as fresh and strange as it was to the ancients who saw it first, can we both re-create it and preserve it for the future.”

Copyright © Aristo Purboadji 2018