Is there less training in the knowledge economy?

I am very much an Uber fan, but if you are looking for drawbacks that passage expresses one potential problem.  Pre-Uber, acquiring worker talent required lumpier investments on the part of the employer.  You would hire a bunch of people, with the expectation of keeping them around for a while, and then train them to do a bunch of things.  Some of them would work their way up the proverbial ladder, based on what you had taught them, many would not.  But you would train and teach them quite a bit, if only because there was no alternative for getting things done.

In a “sharing economy,” a pre-trained worker is very often on call for a short stint, when needed.  The employer thus has less need to invest in option value from the full-time work force and that means less training.  The result is that more workers will have to teach and train themselves, whether for their current jobs or for a future job they might have later on.

I submit many people cannot train themselves very well, even when the pecuniary returns from such training are fairly strongly positive.  The “at work social infrastructure” for that training is no longer there, and so many sharing economy workers will stay put at their ex ante levels of knowledge.

Tyler Cowen on the deficit of training in the sharing economy.

It's not just the sharing economy, though. The whole knowledge economy sector seems to put less into employee training. Is this different than in decades past? I've worked my whole career in this space, I have no basis for comparison to a bygone era.

The usual caveats about causation/correlation apply, but with employee tenures being so short in the knowledge economy, perhaps it's not surprising that employee training has diminished. The pace of change, the dynamic competition, the rapid growth, and the constant organizational reconfigurations are other factors that lower the return on investment to on-the-job training. Though it may be cheaper to groom someone from within, it's tempting for the leaders in tech to just poach talent from other companies, never has it been so easy to identify top people within other company walls (thanks to services like LinkedIn and the generally higher connectedness of tech employees in this networked age). 

There are exceptions, of course, but it's best to head into tech assuming you'll need to invest heavily in self-training and be pleasantly surprised if things turn out differently. Most tech executives I know are stretched so thin that actively training others can't even find room on the bottom of the list.

When I speak to most younger students and recent grads, I advise them to think of their education as a lifelong endeavor and not something that ends when they palm their college diploma. Especially in technology, many people will likely acquire new skills multiple times in their career, a college degree serving just as the first notable signal that they're responsible learners.

The positive is that the internet and web have created a vast reservoir of free knowledge. The difficulty is making sense of it all. White collar job knowledge, especially in tech, is either trapped inside specific people or company's heads or it's out there but badly archived and organized.

Reservoir of goodness

As a poetic companion to Justice Kennedy's majority opinion for marriage equality for SCOTUS today, read Andrew Sullivan's piece on the momentous ruling. A recollection, an appreciation, a victory lap, beautiful throughout.

In fact, we lost and lost and lost again. Much of the gay left was deeply suspicious of this conservative-sounding reform; two thirds of the country were opposed; the religious right saw in the issue a unique opportunity for political leverage – and over time, they put state constitutional amendments against marriage equality on the ballot in countless states, and won every time. Our allies deserted us. The Clintons embraced the Defense of Marriage Act, and their Justice Department declared that DOMA was in no way unconstitutional the morning some of us were testifying against it on Capitol Hill. For his part, president George W. Bush subsequently went even further and embraced the Federal Marriage Amendment to permanently ensure second-class citizenship for gay people in America. Those were dark, dark days.
 
I recall all this now simply to rebut the entire line of being “on the right side of history.” History does not have such straight lines. Movements do not move relentlessly forward; progress comes and, just as swiftly, goes. For many years, it felt like one step forward, two steps back. History is a miasma of contingency, and courage, and conviction, and chance.
 
But some things you know deep in your heart: that all human beings are made in the image of God; that their loves and lives are equally precious; that the pursuit of happiness promised in the Declaration of Independence has no meaning if it does not include the right to marry the person you love; and has no force if it denies that fundamental human freedom to a portion of its citizens.
 
...
 
We are not disordered or sick or defective or evil – at least no more than our fellow humans in this vale of tears. We are born into family; we love; we marry; we take care of our children; we die. No civil institution is related to these deep human experiences more than civil marriage and the exclusion of gay people from this institution was a statement of our core inferiority not just as citizens but as human beings. It took courage to embrace this fact the way the Supreme Court did today.
 

I turned on CNN in my hotel here in Italy after dinner tonight. I've watched maybe 15 minutes of television this entire month I've been traveling, distance and the preoccupations of exploring a foreign country have a way of making all news seem too local, but tonight I happened to catch Obama in the midst of his eulogy in Charleston, live. I will always stop to watch Obama speak in a black church, just to hear the cadence of the call and response, the ebb and flow, the dialogue of a communal consciousness.

In his speech, a remarkable and moving one, he referenced Marilynne Robinson's phrase “reservoir of goodness.” If we could just tap into that reservoir of goodness, he both urged and wondered, if we could just tap into that grace, what might be possible?

On this day of all days, the answer seemed to be: more than even Andrew Sullivan expected in his lifetime.

It is so ordered

Everyone is posting the same final two paragraphs from Justice Kennedy's majority opinion (page 33 in this PDF) affirming marriage equality. I will as well, because sometimes legalese rises beyond the mundane and ascends to the lyrical.

No union is more profound than marriage, for it embodies the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice, and family. In forming a marital union, two people become something greater than once they were. As some of the petitioners in these cases demonstrate, marriage embodies a love that may endure even past death. It would misunderstand these men and women to say they disrespect the idea of marriage. Their plea is that they do respect it, respect it so deeply that they seek to find its fulfillment for themselves. Their hope is not to be condemned to live in loneliness, excluded from one of civilization’s oldest institutions. They ask for equal dignity in the eyes of the law. The Constitution grants them that right.
 
The judgment of the Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit is reversed.
 
It is so ordered. 

The efficient tourism problem

Everywhere I travel, I hear a common lament. Such and such a place is overrun with tourists. Everyone tries to discover the undiscovered gem of a spot.

However, the internet makes information flow so efficient that all travelers have easy access to the list of the top sites, restaurants, and hotels in every destination, just one mouse click away. Today's undiscovered gem of a beach is dotted with hundreds of pale white American bodies tomorrow.

A tourist complaining about other tourists is travel's version of NIMBY-ism, except it's not “my backyard,” it's someone else's. In a perfectly efficient travel market all the best sites will be overrun. Hotel vacancy rates might act as an artificial limiter, but the ability for massive cruise ships to dock in a port at noon and disgorge thousands of tourists each afternoon has long since rendered such ceilings meaningless.

[Everyone will complain about the tourists until virtual reality suddenly depresses tourism, and then everyone will complain that the local GDP has cratered and that no one bothers visiting places in person anymore. Perhaps cities will try to trademark their physical sites so they can collect a vig on any sale of any virtual reality experience based on their location.

And of course, some tourists are obnoxious and boorish. For this piece I'm setting those barbarians aside, no one likes them.]

Even docile, respectful tourists can alter one's experience of a place when they amass in great enough numbers. Yet how can I complain when I'm one of them? This is the traveler's conundrum.

I've learned to have a certain zen about it all. Some sites are great and will always draw a crowd. I revisited Michelangelo's David in Florence a few weeks back, and it is always surrounded by dozens of tourists snapping photos. It's still a fucking masterpiece, and it still stuns me.

If you're lucky enough, the most exploitable inefficiency remains visiting places in the offseason or in off peak hours. It's not just how much free time you have, but when you can call upon it that determines its value.

Why you should buy wine from Costco

Jon Thorsen on why you should buy wine from Costco:

Costco's average margin (per their financial filings) is about 12 percent. Costco has stated that the highest margin they will take on a non-Costco brand is 13 percent and they strive to keep it closer to 10 percent. On private label items (Kirkland Signature) they will go up to 15 percent margin but of course the price is still lower than other brands because they cut out the middleman. It's an amazing business model—their stores average about $160 million each in annual sales. Their total revenue is around $90 billion and they make several billion in net earnings, yet investors complain because they think their margin is too low and they pay their employees too much!
 
So what does this have to do with buying wine? I believe the 10–13 percent margin is similar for alcohol. No wonder Costco is the largest retailer of wine in the United States. I talked to a local store manager recently and commented on how a local upscale restaurant was advertising a wine for $12 per glass and $46 per bottle. At the time my local Costco was selling this wine for $9.99 a bottle. He stated Costco's markup on that item was 12 percent, which would put their margin at just under 11 percent. This means that unless you're dealing with a special buy/closeout type situation, you really are not going to find wine much cheaper than at Costco.
 
The other nice thing about Costco is that in my experience their buyers do a fantastic job picking out high-quality products. If they stock it, you can be fairly sure it's good, unlike some of the other big chain stores. Since Costco is the largest retailer of wine in the United States, products tend to turn over quickly so there is quite a variety over time. The downside of this is that a wine you loved may be gone the next week, so if you like it you better buy a bunch.
 

I wish I could chat with the wine buyer for my local Costco and make some requests. And I'm with the author. We complain about companies like Costco and Amazon.com having margins that are too low, yet perhaps we should more often praise companies that generate so much consumer surplus for the world (as long as they compensate their employees fairly).

It's humorous to see the variation in wine selection from one Costco store to another. I was at a Costco in Novato, up north across the Golden Gate Bridge, helping to pick up supplies for a party, and saw half bottles of 2006 Chateau D'Yquem and a bottle of 2009 Screaming Eagle in their glass-case secured wine display. The Screaming Eagle was selling for $2149.99. You can likely deduce the average income of residents in the area (my local San Francisco Costco doesn't carry such fare, though given real estate prices in the city, perhaps they should).

Another useful tip from the piece:

One other note on Costco is that typically any price that ends in .97 is a markdown. Furthermore, if there is an asterisk on the label that means it is a closeout and is not coming back.