Legacy
19 September 2020
Ruth Bader Ginsburg passed yesterday, on the night of Rosh Hashana. She will rightly be remembered amongst the most important individuals - not just women - in the modern history of this country, and has attained deity-like status in the cultural zeitgeist.
My first "interaction" with RBG was in 2018, when I bought a friend a children's book documenting her life, titled "I Dissent", on the occasion of his son's birth. I was just under 60 years late to the party in appreciating her power, as by this point, her contributions to the country's laws and culture, especially in relation to the fight for women's rights, were already the stuff of legend.
Two things stand out to me as I reflect on the little I know of her. The first is related to her personal life. I recall (with my memory refreshed by Wikipedia) from the "RBG" documentary an anecdote about her husband, Martin. Wikipedia relays that "[a]fter the birth of their daughter, Ginsburg's husband was diagnosed with testicular cancer. During this period, Ginsburg attended class and took notes for both of them, typing her husband's dictated papers and caring for their daughter and her sick husband—all while making the Harvard Law Review". I find this level of selflessness, focus and resilience breathtaking.
The second is about what I perceive to be her philosophical approach to progress. Ruth Bader Ginsburg's legacy will rightly be one of a champion of liberal causes, and ideologically I'm certain this is accurate. But in her early days on the Supreme Court's bench, she was defined as a moderate. Another recollection of mine from the documentary was the way in which she adapted her judicial opinions and ideological leanings over time to ensure a balanced bench. The documentary left the impression that she was able to subtly adapt depending on the composition of the bench. This level of self awareness and control is startling. But more importantly, it speaks to the purity of her motives, the weight of her sense of duty, and the prioritization of progress and balance over ideology.
My knowledge of this amazing woman is very superficial, and largely viewed through the prism of popular culture. But for the reasons described above, and because of the way today's politics and culture have strayed so far from the quiet determination and dignity she represents, RBG's qualities and aura seem to reverberate in my soul. And from the reaction her passing has caused, it's clear I'm not alone.
I sat down today with the intention to write something very different to how this piece has turned out. It took less than 2 hours from the news of her passing to emerge for the political and popular narrative to shift to violently prognosticating what this meant for the timing of replacing her, and by implication, what the impact could be on an election that's likely to end up in front of the Supreme Court. I was planning on using her passing as a prompt to ask what this election is about, and to parse how her death may impact the race. I initially titled the piece "RBG's symmetry" to reflect that in death, due to the state of the election and the fate of liberal democracy, her impact may be as large as her contributions while living. But I'm glad I ended up writing this piece instead.
Very few people exert gravity through the substance of their character. Ruth Bader Ginsburg, from my vantage point in a different time and place, is one of those people. One final element of her story has always resonated with me: her deep friendship with her ideological opposite in the Supreme Court, Justice Antonin Scalia (who passed in 2016). In my doomscrolling on Twitter last night, one message stood out to me. Justice Scalia's son, Christopher, left a message of love and condolence on RBG's passing. In doing so, he shared an anecdote from their relationship as relayed by another Supreme Court justice:
"During one of my last visits with Justice Scalia, I saw striking evidence of the Scalia-Ginsburg relationship. As I got up to leave his chambers, he pointed to two dozen roses on his table and noted that he needed to take them down to "Ruth" for her birthday. "Wow," I said, "I doubt I have given a total of twenty-four roses to my wife in almost thirty years of marriage." "You ought to try it sometime," he retorted. Unwilling to give him the last word, I pushed back: "So what good have all these roses done for you? Name one five-four case of any significance where you got Justice Ginsburg's vote. "Some things," he answered, "are more important than votes."
Amen. May her memory be a blessing, and by god do we need one right now. And may her lifetime of sacrifice and integrity be a reminder and catalyst for us all to fight for the world we want to live.
Inside
18 September 2020
Today is Rosh Hashana, a day where we celebrate the Jewish new year. It is also the beginning of a 10-day period of introspection that culminates with Yom Kippur, Judaism's holiest day.
I wrote a longer piece a few weeks ago about the concept of "revealed preferences" and how I've used that as a model to understand who I really am, and to decide whether I want to change to match my vision of myself, or change my vision of myself to match the real me. I think I've used that model successfully in the last few weeks to change my behavior.
But in contrast to this earlier introspection, the thought today of focused introspection feels heavy, or burdensome, or foreboding. Or maybe it's just Friday afternoon and I'm tired from the week. It may also be that Rosh Hashana and the introspection it ushers in, is falling during a time of great uncertainty. There is an element of unease in the lead-up to this year's election that I can't seem to escape from; I cannot speak to others' experience, but it does feel quite universal.
I must admit that I hadn't remembered this element of Rosh Hashana until I sat down to write today. I picked up some challah, bought some scotch, and got some flowers for Tali, but only reminded myself of the essence of this holiday when I started thinking and typing. My daily writing is an amongst other things, a very deliberate act. It's value is therefore twofold today: further entrenching itself as a daily habit, and reminding me of the importance of being considered, intentional and deliberate.
I'm grateful for that, and will carry that spirit through the next 10 days. God knows there's a lot to think about right now.
Snowflake
17 September 2020
Yesterday’s finance news was dominated by Snowflake’s IPO in which it raised $3.4bn, making it the largest IPO raise in the history of software. The company listed at $120 per share, after being revised up from $75-85 per share early in the process, buoyed by Berkshire Hathaway (amongst others) taking a ~$250mm position in a stock traditionally well-outside its wheelhouse.
The stock traded at $245 at the market close, implying a gain of over 100% on its first day (the stock is down about 10% today), giving the company a valuation of 165x trailing sales at the close. The biggest question I had, one I put to friends in investment banking, is this: can you say the bankers royally screwed up if something trades up >100% on listing, but does so on that type of multiple? Is that level of euphoria something that should be predictable today? The response was unclear, and I can empathize with someone not foreseeing this type of reaction.
One of the most interesting perspectives I’ve read since has been that of Bill Gurley, one of the more famous and successful venture capitalists, and long-time critic of the IPO process; it’s worth reading his short Tweet-thread here.
This episode ties together a few narratives for me about the market today: Complete valuation insensitivity (167x sales), the challenge of value investing (Buffett buying SaaS IPOs), banks and insiders profiting at the expense of companies and other investors (and the inequality this furthers), and the desire to move to direct listings or even decentralized finance to remove these transaction costs.
Dumb
16 September 2020
Australians generally have low opinions of Americans' intelligence. Australians also generally don't know what they're talking about when it comes to this country.
The first mistake that Australians make when thinking about the US is that you can talk about 'Americans' in the one breath and be referring to a homogenous culture or worldview. In reality there's enormous variation between most US states. The country is called the "United States" because its a federation of 50 states, each with its own truly unique history and culture. I don't profess to know enough about US history, but I know there are meaningful differences between each region.
The second mistake that Australians make when thinking about the US is that a large portion of them are "dumb". I know many people who express this view don't actually mean it, but it still really irks me. It is beyond doubt that some opinions held by some Americans are impossible to reconcile to any version of a coherent reality. But these opinions are a product of their individual backgrounds and realities, and to make throwaway comments about "dumb" Americans is to entrench the elitism that created a fractured world.
Often the people that hold these views are capable of real empathy. But in reality, it may be that empathy, like another famous political ideology - the "horseshoe" - also operates on a spectrum. Maybe a dose of empathy blinds people to what the word really means.
Positioning
15 September 2020
The upcoming election in the US is occupying a lot of my thinking. There's a strong correlation between this and the amount of time I spend on Twitter, but I don't see my Twitter use declining meaningfully in the coming weeks (perhaps a topic for another post).
There's an air of inevitability about this election, and this year in general in a sense. While COVID-19 and the raging Australian and Californian wildfires couldn't have been predicted with specificity, many people had been warning of the dangers of a pandemic, and the impacts of poor fire management combined with global warming, for some time. So in a sense, this year has been dizzying in its unpredictability, but will probably read quite coherently when the history books are written.
One thing that lots of people did accurately predict was the dysfunction and division that would result from 4 years of the current president. And with 49 days until the election, I'm thinking about what the rest of the year will look like in terms of personal safety and portfolio construction. They are two very different considerations; one very real and physical, and the other very abstract.
I think it's beyond doubt that the election outcome will be contested in some form. How, with what means, by whom and by how many, are all very relevant factors that could make the contest anything from benign to violent.
Perversely, I'm quite glad Tali and I are in New York and will witness what's likely to be an historic election. But I'm also thinking about where we want to physically be in mid-November. The looting and violence in our neighborhood (Nolita/Soho) in early June (we weren't here at the time) seemed to be the boiling over of anger in the heat of the BLM protests. While it will be interesting to be here and feel the city in the lead-up to the election, I'm not sure we want to be here in the aftermath if the city collectively repudiates an election result and boils over.
From a portfolio perspective, it's been a challenging year to position effectively. Right now, I'm trying to express a view that protects against the breakdown of order (GLD, SLV, BTC), while also riding growth stocks on the free-money train (SQ, TTD, TCEHY), with a sprinkling of conservative positions that should remain steady in any case (BRKB, WMT, TRNO), and a few other bets to fill in the gaps.
I guess I'm trying to hedge on both physical safety and my portfolio. My hope is that my portfolio provides me asymmetric upside. On reflection, maybe I should start applying the same lens to where we spend the next few months.
Scales
14 September 2020
From Tyler Cowen:
"Recently, one of my favorite questions to bug people with has been “What is it you do to train that is comparable to a pianist practicing scales?” If you don’t know the answer to that one, maybe you are doing something wrong or not doing enough. Or maybe you are (optimally?) not very ambitious?"
I'm not a pianist, but I think the message is clear. Repetition is important and compounding is powerful, so what do I do on a regular basis that will compound over time to make me better at whatever it is that I want to do?
I'd suggest that writing is my 'scales'. I started with a monthly newsletter, which then died. I then started writing a monthly post, on various topics, to a small group of readers, mainly comprised of friends and contemporaries in Australia and the US. I committed to writing one piece per month, and have been relatively consistent in doing so. In the last few months, I also started writing a weekly piece for my principal in Australia to keep him and the group abreast of developments in the US in what feels like an important year. After reading Tyler's question, I figured that there's nothing stopping me writing more regularly.
There is definitely a vulnerability that comes with writing publicly. Sometimes your ideas aren't that interesting, your writing isn't that good, or nobody cares enough to engage. This vulnerability definitely creates a high bar for publishing, and there exists a cycle of (i) I don't know what to write, (ii) here we go, that's a good idea (iii) I hope this piece is good, (iv) I don't think this piece is good, and finally (iv) I can't look at this piece anymore, I have to publish it. Rinse and repeat on a monthly basis.
I've realized that I'm not short on ideas, and while I may only have time for one longer piece each month, there's no reason I can't indulge ideas daily. So here I am, with my first daily post, about daily posting. Living in New York, at a pretty turbulent time, while getting to engage with interesting and clear thinkers, makes this a fruitful time for writing.
Together with daily meditation, hopefully daily writing becomes my 'scales'. I don't know what I 'want to be', but equanimity and clear thinking are attributes I hope to enhance for wherever this journey takes me.
Photo by ASTERISK