Why Bloomberg TV Should Make An Xbox One App

Young, financial-types all over New York City are cutting the cord and utilizing gaming consoles as their primary living room media devices.

…or more accurately, like a proper Times trend piece, this assertion is based on my own behavior, along with corroboration from a few passing conversations with friends in the industry.

I made the switch three months back, moving my Apple TV to the bedroom, and making the Xbox One the main media device in my living room. I’m a full convert and was spreading the gospel to a few trader friends, only to find out they had long ago done so.

I cut the cord to cut costs. It puzzled me why a group of traders who could easily afford cable would not only cut the cord, but why they’d choose an Xbox One or PS4 as their primary media device. My anecdotal, non-scientific findings:

The Controller

This is the biggest reason. You’re dealing with a group of users who fit a very specific demographic: all between 25-35 and male. We’ve grown up with a video game controller in our hand. These controllers aren’t something that need to be learned, they’re almost an extension of our bodies. Even with all it’s hardware expertise, the Apple TV remote is still an odd piece of equipment. Smart TV remotes are the same thing, each a unique beast that requires hours of upfront commitment. Our generation has grown up navigating television screens with gaming controllers.

The User Interface

These gaming consoles might be from Microsoft and Sony, companies not exactly known for their design chops, but they’ve managed to make these systems better than what’s out there. The Apple TV interface in no way resembles the intuitive nature of iOS, and other than maybe Samsung, Smart TV interfaces generally feel like programming a VCR. The gaming industry knows better than anyone how to drive action on a TV screen, and it really shows.

Sports, Sports, Sports

This was the most interesting behavioral change in the group. The main hesitation for cutting the cord always used to be around watching live sports. Sony and Microsoft have not only allayed this concern, they’ve turned it into an advantage. One friend told me he specifically cut the cord to “justify subscribing to MLB.tv, Sunday Ticket, and NBA Game Time”, with two citing last year’s Madden 25 Sunday Ticket promotion as the moment they crossed the rubicon. Both console companies seem keenly aware that sports are where they can really differentiate themselves for their audience, and seem to be aggressively pushing this path.

So much like the classic trend piece, this is the where I insert my personal agenda into what appears to be a general observation about the world around us.

CNBC still dominates every trading floor television and it’s a monopoly that is tough to beat. After 12 years of personal observation, they still dominate nearly every television. To Bloomberg, the FT, the WSJ, or any creator of financial video: reach the new generation when we’re at home and in ways that fit into our lives. Become our evening habit and build your brand on the devices where we’re already spending time. Let us navigate your menus with two thumbs and two fingers.

Build apps for gaming consoles.

The Most Perfect Piece of Information

Every day I come across some shiny new app that looks prettier than yesterday’s beautiful new thing. Almost none of these elegant wonders live to see a 2nd day. Yet one of the most valuable pieces of technology that I interact with every day is an ugly, hacked together text message.

Every morning at approximately 6:30am I get a text message with the day’s forecast, that I set up using IFTTT. It has just the high and low temperature, and usually 2-3 words on whether it’s going to be rainy, snowy, or sunny.

 

 

That little snippet is one of the most perfectly delivered pieces of information I’ve come across.

The timing is set for right before my alarm goes off. The message is short enough that all the info displays in message preview on my lock screen so I don’t even need to unlock my phone to see it. Every morning it’s the first thing I see.

That one line satisfies maybe 90% of my weather-related information needs. When weekend planning, I might open up an app or even go to that mockery of a website, weather.com, but every morning all I really care about is the approximate temperature and if it’s going to rain or snow.

I’ve tried out a number of weather apps out there. The ones from major players like the Weather Channel and Yahoo were full of information. The gorgeously designed Forecast.io even made it to my homescreen for a bit. But this simple, hacked-together solution has managed to become my daily weather reporter. It’s somehow one of the most perfectly crafted information delivery systems I’ve experienced.

It’s a great reminder that a simple piece of information, delivered at the right time, in the right place, in the right format, in a reliable and consistent manner, can be more valuable than all the feature-rich and ornately designed services being created every day.

Addendum #1

I’ve been trying out Poncho, a Betaworks company that delivers a similar weather service. I’m a huge Betaworks fanboy, but this is a perfect example of trying to get too creative. Poncho’s onboarding is incredible, but it’s actual delivery ends up problematic as you can see in the two examples below (nicely juxtaposed against the IFTTT solution):

 

 

Addendum #2

I would pay to be a fly on the wall during a weather.com staff meeting. What they’re trying to do with that absurdly valuable piece of real estate is way beyond me.

“I Only Date Guys With Bloomberg Terminals”

Yes, I actually once heard that line on the trading floor. I still cringe when I think about it, yet it reminds me how embedded in the culture those machines were. It came to mind at a dinner last week, when a former coworker brought up something really interesting about their prized Bloomberg Terminals:

We can’t talk about shit on there anymore

Apparently Bloomberg chat is becoming severely restricted and traders can no longer openly talk positions, are ‘strongly discouraged’ from discussing their personal lives, and most importantly, are banned from chatting with traders at other banks. The FT confirmed this, as JP Morgan, Goldman, and RBS have all indicated they’re going to ban “multi-firm chat rooms”.

Trading floors are a different place than my time through the 2000s, but if this trend continues, it will be a monumental cultural shift. It’s tough to describe how integral “IB” (Instant Bloomberg) or “Bloomberg Chat” was to the entire social structure of the bank trading community.

My seven years in front of a Bloomberg Terminal made me see just how impressively their chat functionality developed. A timeline of what I saw:

When I started in 2002, we only had Bloomberg Messaging, which allowed users to simply static message each other within the Bloomberg ecosystem. I think it was maybe 2004 that Instant Bloomberg was introduced and began to write the book on product stickiness.

Soon, you were either on Bloomberg or you “didn’t exist”. It was an obnoxious, yet incredibly common networking practice to meet someone and instead of exchanging business cards, you’d promise to just ‘find them on Bloomberg’. If you weren’t a subscriber it instantly impacted your credibility with potential clients. It became an effective rite of passage for a young trader to “get their Bloomberg”.

This developed into an odd social protocol. When you first met a potential business contact, you MSG’ed (Bloomberg Messaging) them. If both parties felt it was a worthwhile connection, you’ d step it up to IB (chat). If you became business besties, you would create a ‘recurring’ chat room, meaning every time you loaded up your Terminal the chat room would automatically open. A recurring chat relationship wasn’t something you jumped right into. It meant something.

I’m not exaggerating about the “relationship” aspect of this. The absurdity of this hit a high point when my friend made the comment about only dating guys with Terminals. I cringe thinking about that line, yet she almost had an argument. Almost. At the time nearly all other forms of communication were blocked. If the object of your affection was on IB, you could set up a recurring chat room and have an open line of communication to them, all day long (one can debate the relative merits of this).

Even when I moved to the Financial Times, salespeople for premium products used IB to engage with clients and leads. It somehow seemed less intrusive to send an Instant Bloomberg than a cold call or email. There was also again that element of social validation: if you could afford the subscription people perceived your product was of higher value. It justified that subscription price.

Bloomberg’s simple chat functionality has come to define Warren Buffett’s idea of economic castles surrounded by unbreachable moats. It’s ubiquity across the financial community made it the communications mode of choice for any large bank or fund participant. Either you were on Bloomberg, or you weren’t.

The company is now in a very precarious situation: it has to balance the indispensable compliance needs of its biggest customers against its most powerful lock-in, it’s chat functionality. As it begins to lose its grip as the center of communications for the financial industry, the question of “is it worth the price” becomes a lot more difficult to answer. Is it just becoming a really, really expensive chat app?

I Don’t Need A Flying Car

There has been a good amount of debate over whether the world is seeing true technological progress, or if we’re just churning out a bunch of meaningless photo-sharing apps that cater to wealthy Silicon Valley-ites. “We wanted flying cars, instead we got 140 characters”, has become a clarion call for those who argue that Facebook, Twitter and the other new networks of the world do little in the way of moving humanity forward.

I have to disagree.

The ability to quickly communicate with anyone, anywhere in the world is one of the most magnificent things that’s happened in my lifetime. The ability to do it with images is even more profound. It may have began with pet pictures and tweets about your breakfast, but when I think about the universal, human networks that have been built in the past few years, I am just in awe.

It always brings me back to a story my Dad told me.

He immigrated from India in 1969. When he left behind his entire family to chase the American dream, there wasn’t exactly Facetime and Skype. To communicate with his parents back home, he’d have to schedule an appointment at a local calling center. That was just the beginning.

He would have to send a letter via airmail to Calcutta to let his parents know when to be by a phone, which took around 2 weeks to arrive. They didn’t even have their own phone, so the call would need to take place at an uncle’s house. Being Indian, this somehow turned into a party of sorts, with a bunch of relatives coming over to eat and gossip. I vividly remember the scratchy long-distance connections to India in the 1980s, so I can only imagine the crackling that was a 1967 phone call.

Remember these?

I love the image of a circle of relatives taking turns speaking in their “long-distance voice” (not quite conversational, not quite a scream) into a phone, and I smile at the Bengali ability to turn an incredible inconvenience into a celebration. But I can’t imagine it taking a letter, an appointment, and a few weeks for my Dad, an only child, to exchange just a few words with his parents. I can’t even begin to fathom how awful that level of disconnect must’ve been when my grandfather suddenly died of a heart attack in 1970.

As with most children of immigrants, I’ll never quite appreciate the sacrifice my parents made to give my sister and me the privileged lives we’ve had, and I marvel that my grandparents allowed their children to move as far away as they did. But I do appreciate when moving to Singapore in 2009, I could contact my family without a second thought. Skype video, emailing directly from my phone, or sharing photos on Facebook, all in an instant. I recognize when my niece was born the other day in Boston and my parents were exchanging pictures with relatives in India while still sitting at the hospital, that was a pretty incredible thing.

I’m still not done being impressed with technologies that make the world a smaller place. Sometimes, I have to force myself to remember how incredible it is that when I open Facebook, it reinforces personal connections from all over the world. When I open Twitter, I can find out what’s happening in far off lands. When I open Instagram, I can see the entire world in a long scroll.

Mobile messaging, Skype’ing, Gchatting, emailing, texting…they all deepen human ties that geography had historically strained. Technologies that help connect people from around the world truly are amazing, unbelievable, and impossible things.

I consider that progress.

Fab.com and the Future of News

Fab.com’s founder, Jason Goldberg, today made declaration that flash sales will no longer be the focus of Fab emails. Instead the goal is to create as tailored an experience as possible for each user. He writes:

It’s really simple: Follow the stuff that excites you. We’ll personalize your Fab experience on-site based on what you follow.

We’ll also only send you notifications when there are new arrivals of the stuff you follow, and you’re in complete control of how you hear from us.

His language may create the impression of a drastic pivot, but Fab has been moving towards this user-centric content experience for a while now. They’ve been cautiously introducing elements of social commerce: feeds incorporating what your Facebook friends “love” or recommendations of items similar to what you’ve “loved”. Creating a better way to discover things you love is a critical element in what Goldberg believes can be a move away from Amazon-led commodity commerce, to an era of “emotional commerce” (a must read for anyone in ecommerce).

How come when I go to the NY Times homepage, except for a tiny “Recommended for You” section way below the fold, I see the same articles as everyone else (I’m checking in if this is true for subscribers to the website), but the same holds true for BostonGlobe.com, FT.com, etc. Even with the opportunity to know an incredible amount about their users, the content delivery experience is identical. When you land there you’ll see stories that have been deemed important not for you, but for everyone. There’s certainly some news that is universal and necessary, but even the most old-school of editors can’t argue that we should completely disregard what the user has already shown interest in.

There are a number of companies trying to create tailored content experiences like Flipboard, Prismatic, Zite, etc. Instead of looking at the Flipboard model as simply a distribution channel to be partnered with, news organizations need to start thinking of them as the type of technology to power their own delivery. Personalization is not a feature, it’s a mindset, that’s a radical shift from the way news organizations have functioned for decades. Take a lesson from Jason Goldberg and put your users first.

Tear Down That Corporate Firewall

For my friends still working in the trading world, I’m often their “guy” for questions on whatever shiny, new tech thing is out there. When it comes to Twitter, I’ve been harping for a few years on how they need to become fluent in it. Last week, after the AP’s Twitter account was hacked, and a bogus tweet about explosions in the White House caused an instant drop in the stock market, I got a flurry of emails to the tune of “so this is what we get from your fancy Twitter?”

Information flow as a trader at a large bank can be an odd exercise. For years I sat in front of four screens, using platforms like a Bloomberg Terminal, Reuters, internal chat rooms, and a host of other options to monitor news from every corner of the world. Trying to get an information edge was our lifeblood, especially as I was focused on the economies of emerging, opaque markets.

Even though the bank spent thousands every month on fancy information systems for our team, since it was a massive corporation, all the traditional corporate firewall practices applied. Gmail and Gchat, Facebook, Skype and any other communication tools the bank deemed threatening were blocked. It wasn’t just social platforms or external email, up and coming financial blogs like Zerohedge and Dealbreaker were also blocked.

We survived on information, yet the bank actively worked to restrict potentially valuable channels.

Bloomberg recently announced that it was going to incorporate Twitter streams into it’s Terminal product. This made me smile. It was a huge validation of how valuable the information being produced in the social media world can be, and that it’s simply impossible to ignore. Of course, some people blamed this inclusion for the chaos that resulted from the hacked AP tweet, but that ignores the bigger picture. Industries that survive on information are accepting they can no longer ignore the social media world. There will be hiccups along the way and lessons learned, but the broader corporate world is finally coming around.

To put how oddly this transition is playing out in perspective, I was asking a friend still at Bank of America about his Twitter access. He told me Twitter.com is blocked and he can’t download any desktop Twitter clients, yet can now access Twitter via Bloomberg. He concluded by pointing out the most important reason this breakdown in corporate firewalls is accelerating :

“Dude, we have smartphones. We just access it on there.”

A Crispy, Yellowed Time Machine

There’s nothing that incites feelings of nostalgia like a weekend in the home you grew up in. As I’m borderline OCD about viewing everything through a “future of news” prism, my thoughts inevitably wandered to the print vs. digital debate as I was sifting through some mementos in the desk in my old bedroom.

I’ll admit it. There is nothing like holding an old newspaper you saved to commemorate an event. Especially when that event was the Red Sox finally winning a World Series after 86 years in October 2004. My Mom made sure to save me a copy of the Boston Globe the next morning, and as I’ve moved from city to city, the issue has safely sat at my childhood desk.

There’s that yellowish color and the feeling of the slightly crisped paper. There’s the feeling of flipping the pages and seeing what else was happening in the world on that day and seeing the names of the writers you once idolized. There’s even that knowledge that this physical specimen has survived the years while many of its kinfolk have not.

Most importantly, it’s an instant time traveling ticket back to how you felt that day. I vividly remember standing at the Riviera Tavern, an oasis in NYC where Sox fans could safely congregate, and the same venue where Aaron Boone and Grady Little nearly brought me to tears one year before. Dave Roberts, Big Papi, Pedro, the Bloody Sock, Trot, OC, the Curse, Cowboy Up…it all comes back. It even takes me back to Buckner and Mookie, or Mo, or Roger, or Wade…and my period of torment was relatively short for a Red Sox fan. I can’t imagine what that piece of printed paper would do for a fan who waited the greater part of 86 years to experience that joy.

I understand this unique experience that a printed newspaper provides, but also understand it’s not the only way to deliver nostalgia.

There’s an App called Timehop that’s scratching the surface of the potential in digital nostalgia. It will show you what you posted on Twitter, Facebook, or Foursquare on that day’s date (i.e. April 13th) in years past. It really gets the job done. Reminding me of an article I tweeted, or a Facebook photo, or a place I checked in, are all things that if delivered properly, actually inches me towards that nostalgic nirvana.

The argument over whether a reminder of a Facebook post from years past is as valuable as a photo in your keepsake box is a pointless one. The right piece of content at the right time can be important no matter what form they take or how they’re delivered.

I do feel bad for the future generations that probably won’t ever experience that feeling of holding an ageing piece of paper to transport them back in time. But it doesn’t mean the companies that created those treasures have to exist, and it certainly doesn’t mean that decades from now our grandchildren won’t experience the wonderful emotion that is nostalgia.

It might just be delivered in regulated intervals through their Google-branded microchip implants by their cloud-based, robotic girlfriends.

I Admit It. I Love My Bank.

One of the hardest things to accept as a startup is you’ll never be able to meet all of your customers’ needs. You tirelessly work to build a core service, then slowly expand functionality, but you can never keep up with every demand. In those early days, your most powerful weapon to combat this is great customer service.

Enter Bank Simple.

Last week, they turned an all around dreadful situation into me uttering words nearly unthinkable in this post-Lehman, Matt Taibbi world:

“I love my bank.”

Bank-Switcher:

After being a Bank Simple customer for a few months and enjoying no ATM fees plus a great app and website experience, I decided to move my savings from Chase into Bank Simple (after nearly 10 years as a Chase customer). The motivation was part functional, part “to support startups”, and part I’ll never forget how cool [their welcome package](http://eatbigfish.com/theblog/simple) was. Yes, I’m affected by details like that.

Many Moving Parts:

Last week, I was traveling in Turkey. I got an email from a very close family friend who is currently studying in Brazil. Her father, and only parent, had just been taken to the hospital in critical condition in California. He was scheduled to transfer her rent money, but was naturally now unable to. Her landlord was becoming more aggressive and she was desperate to pay him to not lose the apartment, and quickly get back to the US to tend to her father.

She has a US-based Citibank account and could withdraw cash from it at any Brazilian ATM. In most cases, I could loan her the emergency funds with a direct US bank-to-bank transfer. I went to the Bank Simple website to execute the transfer. Then the mess began.

It turns out you can’t do an external transfer from Bank Simple yet. I had decided to go all-in with them under the impression that a feature like this was a given, but hadn’t properly done the research. Simple had been more than ideal for deposits, bill pay, and ATM withdrawals, but when I couldn’t find the option on the site, I used Skype to call their customer service. Like so many of these calls go for startups, I kept being told “we’re working to introduce that feature very soon.”

At that moment, I resolved when I got back to the US, I’d close my Simple account and crawl back to Chase.

Customer Service Heroes:

But Simple’s customer service didn’t give up. I vaguely remember the representative’s name being John (I could be totally wrong on this). After finally getting me to accept external transfers weren’t an option, John told me he could lift the daily ATM withdrawal limit for me and I could withdraw the needed cash and deposit it directly at a Citibank branch.

“Ummm…John, the thing is, I’m in Turkey.”

There was no way I could withdraw cash and deposit it into a US Citibank account from Istanbul. It also turned out you couldn’t lift the daily ATM limit for foreign withdrawals.

John, dug a bit more and told me he could have a check mailed to the intended recipient and it’d get there in 3-5 business days.

“Ummm…..John, just to let you know, they’re in Brazil.”

I give John all the credit in the world for not bursting out with an exasperated, “Are you kidding me?” He told me he’d need a few minutes to look for a solution. While I was waiting, John broke every rule of modern day customer service by giving me a direct number to reach him in case we got cut off. Yes, a direct telephone number for a customer service rep of an online service.

John came back to me after speaking with their partner bank (Simple uses a medium-sized bank, Bancorp, as their operational partner). John had negotiated with them to overnight a “treasurers check” to any US address, and the recipient could physically deposit it into any Citibank branch. They’d waive the associated $58 overnight fee. I was even able “send” back the approval form with my signature just by taking a picture of it with my iPhone.

I used the Istanbul hotel printer, sent in the form, the check was overnighted (tracking number and all) to a mutual friend of ours in NYC who deposited it at a Citi branch, and the money was withdrawn in Brazil, all within two business days. I think it was faster than even most direct bank transfers.

Happiest of Campers

My friend was able to pay her rent, keep her apartment, and got on a plane right afterwards to tend to her father.

As a former employee of a massive bank, I’m aware of how difficult the regulatory and operational challenges facing a banking startup must be. As a longtime customer of massive banks, I’m so conditioned to assembly line customer service that the idea of a real person creatively solving my problem is almost unthinkable.

There is no testament to great customer service than a company taking a terrible situation and going above and beyond their constraints to solve your problem. Given the situation at hand, that effort was that much more important to me. This is how startups should operate.

I love my bank.

Don’t Always Be Closing

Imagine a bank using Gordon Gekko’s “greed is good” speech to train new financial analysts, or a police force using Denzel Washington’s character from Training Day to recruit new cadets.

So how come Alec Baldwin’s character from Glengarry Glen Ross regularly comes up when talking about sales in the context of journalism? I’ve seen it in classrooms, panel discussions, even in a [PandoDaily article](http://pandodaily.com/2012/11/16/always-be-closing-at-pandodaily-now-hiring-a-sales-lead/) meant to entice a new Head of Sales. Is linking a craft to a borderline despicable character the best way to attract top candidates?

It’s unfortunately seems to be the prevailing attitude. After declaring his site an independent business, Andrew Sullivan still refers to the sales process as “nagging“. At large tech-media companies, I come across product managers who make sure to distance themselves from “the salespeople”. How can the news industry ever attract and retain top businesspeople if the perception of sales is still a sleazy guy in a suit?

There’s a fantastic new book I came across via Tomas Tunguz’s blog called To Sell Is Human. The author delves into existing negative connotations of the word “sales”. When he asked a number of people what they thought of the term, he got the following word cloud:

How did this image of a slicked-back hair, used car salesman come to be? Pink makes the compelling case that it comes down to information asymmetry. For decades, consumers were at a disadvantage. When you walked into a showroom, you had no way to know the true list price or condition of the car. Once purchased, you had very little recourse if there was a problem. Dishonest dealings drove honest dealers out of the market as the game was completely tilted in favor of the sellers.

In this age of information, a buyer can now read reviews on the dealership, know the true list price, or get hundreds of pricing data points on similar models. They can even take the Vehicle Identification Number and get the entire repair history of the car. Suddenly, the entire power dynamic has changed and the salesperson is more a facilitator than closer.

Sales is different now. It simply can’t be about tricking customers and getting the deal done at any cost, customers have too much information. It’s about making sure your company is building products that your customers want. It’s about educating the customer to help them do their jobs. It can still often come down the best price, but now it demands giving the customer the actual best price.

“selling is not (and should not be) a series of actions that you do to your customers. Instead, effective selling consists of a series of reactions–things that you do for your customers” – Geoffrey James.

Instead of Glengarry Glen Ross, it’s time for media companies to think of selling as Steve Jobs introducing the iPhone or Sheryl Sandberg talking monetization strategy or Sergey Brin skydiving with Google Glass. It could be a major step in helping save themselves.

Welcome to the Era of Collaborative Enterprise

“Business is a battlefield”, MBAs armed with Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, crushing your competition; these sentiments embody the business world of the 20th century, but are they as relevant in today’s connected world?

Can you get people from different organizations in the same industry to help each other succeed?

It’s a bet we want to take. We want people from the same industry, around the world, to help each other understand: “What’s industry news should I be reading?”

People have asked “Why would people from different companies share what they’re reading?” Wouldn’t that give away some element of their competitive edge? Secrecy has long been a cornerstone for corporate success: just look at Coca-cola’s secret formula or the Apple pre-launch product lockdowns. In a world where business is war, would what we’re asking of our users amount to treason?

It’s different now.

I’m sure I sound like a broken record (remember those?) when talking about how a connected world means rethinking how we conduct business, but it really is different now.

When I started in the most corporate of worlds in 2002 as a trader at Bank of America, the company did everything possible  to block communication outside of the company. Personal email was inaccessible and corporate email was heavily monitored. Bloomberg Terminals only had a shoddy messaging feature. We relied heavily on our internal research teams and intuition. The best option was a personal-switchboard like setup with a number of direct phone lines that served as our window to the outside world.

When I left in 2009 it was a vastly different world. The compliance department fought valiantly to block Facebook, G-chat, Twitter, or whatever new social platform arose. They blocked sites like Dealbreaker and Zerohedge that might end up in employees commenting sharing information. But it was too late, everyone had a personal smartphone sitting next to their bank-issued Blackberry. We could access the outside world.

Bloomberg Instant Messenger was another revolution in inter-bank communication. Colleagues who had left to other banks and rivals you met at broker dinners would all join up in potentially the most expensive internet chat rooms in history (a terminal runs up to 36k a year). We’d be sharing news, trade ideas, or even stories from the night before. It was all monitored, but the ease of communicating made it so we’d learn as much from outside the bank as from within.

And just think, that happened in the most extreme of corporate environments. Sharing information is an almost instant reflex for those outside the walls of a heavily regulated industry. Whether posting a link to twitter, emailing a story to a friend in another company, posting to an alumni Facebook group, or wherever else is convenient, professionals share.

There are a number of factors at play larger than just the platforms that enable sharing. In a world where climbing the internal corporate ranks was once the dream, secrecy made more sense as you had one constituency to please. Nowadays, professionals know they won’t stay at one company their entire lives.  Building industry-wide networks has become as valuable as building intra-company ones, and even makes you more valuable to your own company.

Is this world of cooperative knowledge-sharing some utopian hippie-capitalist’s pipe dream? In the programmer world, sites like Hacker News say it’s possible. The legions of traders tossing links into Bloomberg chat rooms say it’s possible. The tens of thousands of professionals posting industry-relevant information on Twitter wouldn’t argue.

Maybe we can call this is an era of “collaborative enterprise”. It’s a world where professionals have realized they can all learn from each other and that the tools exist that allow them to.