Jack and Jill Went to Sand Hill…

Jack and Jill went to Sand Hill to raise their Series A

They went from Andreessen to Kleiner and Greylock and then to DFJ

Jill spoke of disruption

Old term sheets’ destruction

And when they will move to the Bay.

 

Jack said said to VCs

“Our app’s the bee’s knees”

“I see you have two Stanford degrees.”

“That’s right,” said Jack, “And the check, if you please?”

 

“Yeah, uh, sure. Okay.”

An Open Letter to the Higher Education System

Dear All,

I think what’s going on here is a confusion of ends and means. Guys, I believe very deeply in your end goal. I believe in the individual, and I believe every individual can and should be an expert in something, and that that person should be held individually accountable for her or his expertise.

But I don’t agree with the means. I don’t like your current model, where students sit in a classroom, take furious and wildly oversimplified notes in their own notebooks and parlay class discussion into an opportunity to impress the professor instead of inquiring deeper into some topic that deserves to be explored deeply.

I’m not the only one to see a different way forward, an alternate set of means to the same end. Over the course of my college career, I’ve noticed a shift in the way that young people get work done.  When I entered college, everything was pretty traditional: I did my own work, I interfaced with my professors, and I worked with my friends only on group projects, more or less.  And I did some copyediting on the side, so I guess in that capacity I worked with people on common projects.

Then, Facebook was kind of this thing one guiltily spent a great deal of time on. And everyone did this, spent time on Facebook. But we didn’t really talk about it because it was not considered standard, copacetic social behavior. One did it in lieu of spending time with friends. But over the course of a few years, we’ve changed the way we view spending time with other people online. Time on Facebook, for many of us, is time with our friends, now. Facebook, Wikipedia, Twitter and other tools have changed the way a lot of young people view information, how we share information, how we understand what “our work” and “other people’s work” is and means. How we view privacy, and how we view propriety. Information, knowledge is social.

The fact of the matter is that I’m not the only one out there saying we need a change. We are seeing a paradigm shift, okay? Nobody told students to get together and share notes. Nobody told them to divide massive reading assignments amongst a group, and they weren’t instructed on how to outline their allotted segment of the readings in such a manner that, when shared with collaborators, it would be legible and intuitive. They just did it. Just do it now. At some primal, gut level, a whole bunch of people just felt that collaborating, doing their own honest work together, was the right or prudent thing to do, that it was morally and socially acceptable, Charles Lipson be damned.

So the burden shifts to higher education systems, and it shifts to the students who recalcitrantly adhere to academic solitude and puff themselves up, snobbishly, like they’re some paragon of integrity or whatever. To those students, I just say, “Keep on with what you’re doing, dude.” Because it’s working out so well, right? Because you really love sitting in the library late at night in the stacks, sweating jittery and alone with some ungodly pile of books beside your laptop. Because that silence is imperious but leads you to believe you can actually get something done because finally for once you are alone with your thoughts and you can get down to the business of making your brain dance, right?

Does this touch on something, here?

But even these most anachronistic of students will eventually notice that their collaborating classmates seem to be having a lot more fun, that they are, ostensibly, enjoying their work. They’ll also notice that these students do better on their exams and papers, and that they retain more material long after they’ve received their final grades, more material than the stoic academic marooned on her/his deserted island ever hopes to hold onto.

Because knowledge–thought itself–is socially constructed and should thus be constructed socially. Learning together makes knowledge a conversation, and contextualizes information in a medium–interpersonal communication–for which evolution prepared us.

Working together, thinking together, sharing with small groups and creating something bigger than ourselves is what evolution has programmed us to do. We are hardwired for small group work, whether it’s stalking, killing, skinning, breaking down, cooking and eating some poor beast out on the Savannah or taking lecture notes, making outlines, brainstorming, exchanging and critiquing ideas, hypotheses, and theories, sketching out and ultimately–privately or collectively–crafting some artifact–e.g. a paper–or facing some challenge–like an exam–of or to prove our newfound knowledge, we are naturally inclined to work in packs, in bands, in tribes.

The way forward is to turn things back to a time before anyone can remember.

Educators are now faced with a choice: either y’all can keep on with the whole individualism thing and face increasing rates of disaffection and more books ringing your death knell, or y’all can adapt to my generation’s new way of working. If you choose the former, I promise you, promise you, things will get worse and worse. You’ll be coercing ever more connected, instantaneity-fueled students into what they’ll find to be an ever more inflexible, insular, and depersonalized system of expectations: namely that they do their own work without the help or input of others.

Unless you change with us, you’ll be forcing us to conform to some broad-based standard, one with little bearing on our highly personalized lives.

All media is social, now. Media is us. Our likes and dislikes are customizing, personalizing each of our media-consuming experiences. Just as the value proposition of television to advertisers–that “hey, we just produced this show that’ll attract a demographic of _____ ages __ to __,”–is getting a little old, because, let’s face it, markets and demographics are so segmented with such fine granularity today; that narrative of “Hey, guys, so I’m going to ask all of you to read this book or take this test so I can certify that you know __.” is also drawing some questions. Because why do we all have the same discussion that nobody likes when we could split up into groups and discuss a couple of  ideas we’re all passionate about?

I’m not suggesting that you guys go that far, letting us author our own syllabi (unless I am).

But in all honesty, I’m not suggesting that. For real.

I guess I just want to say that if we’re all going to be evaluated on the same material, I believe students should be able to learn that material however they please. And I believe it’s your responsibility as the guardians overseeing our intellectual journeys to equip us with the tools we need and want. If you have a policy against collaboration, change it. If I can’t convince you to change it, you’ll still end up changing it within the next few years. If you stand by a basically non-functional technology platform for officiating coursework and haven’t yet heard complaints from students about it, you will.

Take a walk around your campus.  Ask students whether they would like to work with their friends on coursework. If you’ve done what I’ve done, and pitched them on the idea that they can take notes together, share ideas together in real time, do readings together, team-edit papers, and eventually do all of this not only on the university’s web page but on an app that runs natively in Facebook, where they spend the overwhelming majority of their time already, you’ll notice that the overwhelming majority of them light up. They smile and say something like “wow, that just makes so much sense.” Because it does. Because it’s what they’ve been itching to do all along.

I am working with two of the brightest people I know. We all have our different talents. One of us is a brilliant computer programmer, another is a whip-smart tactician, product developer, operations guy and is a fellow tech journalist. Together we are working on something that will change the way students work. I’m still figuring out where I fit into the whole equation of our little company. You could think of me as the “Ideas guy” or the “Vision guy”, or as our first sales guy. What I am for now is an articulator and an elaborator; I’m proud to say that I’ve come up with some of the core features and functions of our software platform, but I’m even happier that we as a team have run with them far beyond what any one of us could have imagined. We’ve gotten as far as we did through teamwork, by assuming good faith. And if I have my druthers, we will change the way people conceptualize work, learning, and knowledge.

Steve Jobs was the guy who changed the way we think of computers; he made them personal. Mark Zuckerberg changed the way we think of our social lives; Facebook showed us that it’s not all about us, that our interactions are part of a larger conversation happening all around us all the time. I want to be the guy who changes what it means to think, what it means to work, how people work together, and how people do the two things I love more than anything: sharing and developing new ideas, and learning.

To be honest, there is nothing I’ve been raised to believe in more than the higher education system. My mother’s parents came over from Greece in the late ’40s. They raised my mom and her brothers with the understanding that a college degree was the key to success, a way out of the immigrant existence that found my grandmother a garment worker and cut my grandfather’s dreams of going to law school short. My maternal grandfather, despite his lack of formal business education, became successful in the restaurant business, and despite the fact I always bring this up when he mentions that I must finish college, I can never seem to refute his argument that a degree makes life easier, that it’s something to fall back on.

My dad’s side has more academics than you can shake a stick at. And all from the University of Chicago, where I’m a student now. In all likelihood, my grandfather wouldn’t be able to do his immunology research, and my grandmother wouldn’t have discovered the Philadelphia Chromosome, a genetic mutation that causes some types of leukemia, and her findings wouldn’t have been extrapolated to explain that genetic mutations cause cancer and not the other way around if it wasn’t for the intellectual openness of an academic institution and academia in general. Would they be afforded the same freedoms at, say, Eli Lilly, or Abbot? Unlikely.

So why is it that my generation, this group of kids who’ve been told since they were infants that they are going to college, that it’s the best time of their lives, that it’s a transformative intellectual experience, (because their parents have been saving for their children’s college education practically since they started dating,) find the college experience somewhat empty? Is it because we’re just too smart for college? I don’t think so.

The past 130 years have been an exercise in increased connectedness. That’s history in one sentence for you.

But education hasn’t meaningfully progressed, technologically, since the printing press, and before it, paper and ink. (And I know what you’re thinking, but the progression from handwriting to typewriting to word-processing is still inextricably linked to the limitations inherent to paper, and to bookbinding, etc.) And now, we’ve come to a jerk in the curve representing innovation in communications and information technology.  My generation, more than any before it, is deviating from paper and all its limitations farther and faster. We’ve plowed brain-first into this wide open world where everything is contextual, everything is embedded and linked and showcases an emergent intelligence. Our intelligence, together. But if you take a look at the kids just a few years younger than me, they’re a different animal altogether. You guys think 20 year-olds think in threads? Do we parse, recall, and concatenate thought into syntax faster than those thirty-somethings? Just a few years ago, we were the news story about those crazy teenagers and their texting. I have nothing on your average seventeen year-old. But I can articulate in a way they can’t understand.

My syntax, like yours, is somewhat deprecated and is decreasingly supported by each successive generation. We speak a dying language.

Here is my indictment: You, people in higher ed, constantly complain that technology is dumbing us down, that it’s making us scatterbrained. That’s the defeatist message of a system which was too inflexible to change a hundred-some years ago.

If you embrace it, now, if you communicate with and to us through the media and in the language that we use to communicate with each other, you might just save us from an eternity of sex scandals and asinine Youtube videos of cats playing pianos, which is what mass culture is becoming today. If you allow my peers and the kids younger than me to engage with you and your system and your vast resources in the same way that we engage each other, we’ll get more out of the student experience. It’ll be more than just four years of partying and half-assing assignments because we were busy chatting with friends on Facebook about the onerous nature of said assignments. And I think that this would make the world a better place, because your capital-L Learning and capital-W Work would be brought to the level of little-c conversation. It would bring knowledge and information back to its roots. It would become less laborious for everyone.

And if my core belief is true, that everyone retains in their core a curious kid with a butterfly net and a magnifying glass, maybe some of the interesting things you try to teach us will trickle deeper than those who’ve gone to college and heard it firsthand. Maybe, just maybe, y’all can shepherd us through this storm of stupidity. Because perhaps we’re being beaten by it, just like you.

And this was just a 2,420-word way of elaborating my points in summation:

  • With regard to your adherence to the ways of bygone analog days, it does you no favors. It hurts you more and more the more you adhere to it. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.
  • If you are willing to change your expectations of what constitutes academic work, we’ll be able to change our expectations of you.
  • We want to help you change the world, ostensibly the goal of education writ large. But you’re going to have to change with us.
  • Ends are achievable by different means.

And I want to help you too. The team and I, we’re doing our part right now. If you are interested in learning more, please sign up. At the time of publication, we just got a bare-bones website up this week. There’s no real content, yet. But you can leave your email address. We’ll keep in touch.

Best Regards,

Jason D. Rowley

 

How (Some of) Us College Kids Feel About Facebook

I subscribe to a very, very heavily-trafficed LISTSERV mailing list called Wallace-l. While the primary subject is David Foster Wallace, there are often discussions about topics tangentially related to him, such as, in this case, a commencement address by contemporary writer Jonathan Franzen at Kenyon College, where David Foster Wallace delivered his famous address which became the short book, This Is Water, and can be found in full here.

I was, rather suddenly, compelled to write a quick response to some of the discussants. I wanted to let them know that not all of us college kids are so blindly devoted to the Web. Some of us see its current limitations. (And some of us, myself included, are working to compensate for them.)

So, here it is.

I just read the modified version of Franzen’s address on NYT.com.

I have no idea what the age demographics of this mailing list are. As a college student myself, I believe that Franzen did bring up a couple of good points about technology and the pervasive nature thereof.

While it is silly to make some broad overarching statement about how many college students feel about technology, I feel compelled to detail in, like, four (run-on) sentences what many of us socially-networked natives of the web feel.

1.) It’s kind of ironic that we search and search for more meaning and personal connection, more run-ins and confrontations with other people, yet do so by demanding more ways to connect through facebook and more powerful, socially-aware deep-digging algorithms from Google, Bing, and other such unfortunately-named “Decision-” or “Knowledge Engines” instead of just backing away from the computer screen and going out there and actually engaging one-to-one with others.

2.) Sometimes there are things which simply can’t be conveyed with a keyboard, which is why it’s at once sad and a bit charming to see lots and lots of teenagers writing hand-written notes, scanning them, and posting the scanned images to their Tumblr accounts.

3.) Many of us take guilty pleasure when we have to apologize for being AFK, because, well, everyone deserves a little shameless AFK time every once in awhile.

4.) We’ve all been told that computing /is/ infinite possibility, but it’s becoming abundantly clear that this is false, that it has been false, that it’s time AF our Ks that provides the greatest room for expression and connection, that allows us to be human and forces us–by dint of longstanding social custom–to be more civil and humane to one another than we’re obliged to be online.

The 19-22 year old set, many of us, have this love-hate thing going on with technology. Those younger embrace it like we never could. I grew up learning how to socialize and be productive before I got onto facebook or was introduced to MS Word. Many young people today learned how to socialize through their use of Facebook. They are blind to technology’s limitations; their world is large and linked and easily navigable, but it’s shallow. Meaning carries a time-decay function, now.

It’s kind of like that DFW quote about modern party dance. Those who choose not to use facebook or twitter or tumblr or whatever because of those platforms’ confining nature are themselves confined. Choosing not to use those tools, ostensibly in order to converse and communicate more freely, in turn removes the non-user from the very space(s) where her/his friends are conversing and communicating blithely because they believe they’re engaging each other in this new and putatively unconstrained way.

Jesus this was long and rambling, but that’s okay.

-J

 

Why, Complicator? (Okay, Computer.) – On Technology | An Excerpt

I am writing a long essay about technology. Its thesis is fairly simple:

  • We live in an increasingly ugly world.
  • To escape its ugliness, we seek diversion. Whether it’s on Facebook, Twitter, Second Life, Farmville, or any number of games we can play on our mobile devices, many are integrating an ethic of escapism into their daily lives to avoid, most often, the content of daily life.
  • Because we can escape the world’s tedium, sadness, decay, and horrors, we lose the impetus to make things better, to set things right.
  • Why strive to live a better life when we can escape into our own digital heavens? Distraction, more so than efforts to improve the situation, might prove more effective now and in the future at helping us avoid tiny personal and larger global hells, so to speak.
  • I believe technology will save us from suffering, this at the expense of sensitivity and empathy and cognizance of our collective humanity. We will become insular individualists, and suffer from “autism”, in the early 20th-century definition of that medical term.

Using a computer was once a social, integrative activity

The introductory paragraphs, and bits and pieces from a few others.

As I was driving into Chicago earlier this week, on the Stevenson expressway, I saw a very large billboard which proclaimed, in no uncertain terms, that Judgment Day will come sometime this May. I believe said the 21st. It was an advertisement for a Christian radio station, located at 91.9 FM, and, finding myself bored of NPR and in the mood to exercise the critical thinking muscles putatively strengthened in college, I decided to take a listen.

And what I heard was not surprising. Before God we are sinners; we must prostrate ourselves and plead for His mercy; we must know that His secrets are His, and are sealed away in a special Bible; the coming Jesus Christ is the only one able to unseal it. Unbelievers will descend into eternal hellfire, will be consumed by the Beast, be deafened by the thundering hooves and blaring horns of the approaching Apocalypse. And that’s all well and good. The radio host quoted from biblical texts with facility, but his message seemed a little out of date. Dante’s Purgatory might be updated. Its setting: I-55, crawling around in morning rush hour. Christian talk radio is the Inferno of the mind.

But his message rang loud and clear: believe in, adopt, and practice this doctrine; take it into your being such that the line between you and it is obliterated. Do this, he said, and you will be saved from an eternity of horrors.

[…]

Escapism is a fundamentally solitary pursuit. Whether sitting in a movie theater, reading a novel, listening to the radio or music, or even just daydreaming, the vast majority of escapist activities are mental. There is nothing more supremely, singularly solitary than the internal dialogue between that kernel-level personage you call you and the oft-silent counterparty: either the creative work, or that etherial conversation partner–simultaneously one’s self and another, a stranger–to whom you make your arguments, and whose counterarguments strike you viscerally.

[…]

Defined by the OED, “Autism” is a condition which has its onset in childhood and is marked by severely limited responsiveness to other persons, restricted behavior patterns, difficulty with abstract concepts, and usually abnormal speech development. Some of the earliest uses of the word were in scientific journals in the nineteen-teens. In the improbably named American Journal of Insanity, in 1912, Hoch asserted that “the chief traits which had existed before the mental breakdown were those which I had at the time called shut-in tendencies–tendencies to which Professor Bleuler has recently applied the term autism.” Carl Jung, translated in 1916 by C. E. Long noted in his Papers in Analytic Psychology that Bleuler’s “autism” was much like Freud’s “auto-eroticism”, though “[Jung] employed the concept of introversion for this condition.” A then widely-circulated clinical definition of autism described “a mental condition in which fantasy dominates over reality, as a symptom of schizophrenia and other disorders.”

Winklevoss, v. [trans.]

1) [tech startup-specific] Coerce (someone) with technical expertise in computer science to build the startup idea of a non-technical founder, usually with a minimal ownership stake in the final product. : Tony has a really good idea for a web application, but will have to winklevoss a technical cofounder.

2) [general] Manipulate those with expertise to do the work of non-experts, usually with minimal ownership stake in the final product. : Jason was totally winklevossed into editing his friend’s political science midterm paper.

ORIGIN Derived from Winklevoss, surname of twin brothers Tyler and Cameron, who brought on Mark Zuckerberg to build The Harvard Connection, the alleged progenitor of Facebook.

Social News Curator Newsle The Most Promising Web Startup at 2011 Kairos SummitStartup

Here’s an excerpt from my most recent post for Flyover Geeks. Check it out here.

The most promising new web startup featured at the Kairos Summit, Newsle, is a social news-curation tool built by a couple of whip-smart Harvard sophomores, Axel Hansen and Jonah Varon. Newsle has been featured in the Chronicle of Higher Education and TechCrunch, and made waves among the veteran Silicon Valley entrepreneurs at the conference. Newsle has the same feel as the Facebook news feed, but takes only relevant, high-quality content from users’ Facebook friends’ pages, as well as allows users to track public figures. News stories are presented in a clean, intuitive user-interface. Having only used Newsle for four days, my experience is rather limited; but based on what I can see, this, more than any web-app featured on the NYSE trading floor, Newsle’s got legs.

The Upstart’s Conundrum: Time Crunch

College entrepreneurs around the country are at once impelled by their institutions to “innovate” and launch ventures, yet stymied by organizational structures and other systemic constraints that render college an inopportune time to gain entrepreneurial experience.

This is the first part of a two or three-part series I’m writing for Flyover Geeks. Below you’ll find a paragraph excerpt, but to read the rest, you’ll have to click here.

College entrepreneurs around the country are at once impelled by their institutions to “innovate” and launch ventures, yet stymied by organizational structures and other systemic constraints that render college an inopportune time to gain entrepreneurial experience. In spite of the recent groundswell in enthusiasm for entrepreneurship–focused specifically on developing “social” and technology enterprises–among business leaders and students alike, there has been little change on the part of institutions to support the development of these ventures in any meaningful way.

Why Young Geeks Leave School

For this series, I’ve Skyped gawky, venture-capitalized college kids who’re still grappling with acne. It seems as though tech entrepreneurs are getting younger.

Click Here to read my new article in Flyover Geeks. Here’s a sneak preview:

For this series, I’ve Skyped gawky, venture-capitalized college kids who’re still grappling with acne. It seems as though tech entrepreneurs are getting younger. What explains this trend toward younger people entering the tech-entrepreneurial space, even while still in college? This necessarily leads to a second question: why is it that nearly all of these successful college-aged entrepreneurs ended up dropping out of college to start their ventures?

#LessonsLearned @SWChi

It’s kind of like speed-dating. You’ve got this little window of 10-20 seconds in which you must capture your audience’s attention and engender the ineffable, refulgent glow of potential recognized. You know, to kick that internal monologue: “That, man… THAT idea’s got LEGS!” How’d I get me summa that?

Or at least that’s how I imagine it. Like speed-dating, speed-entrepreneurship competitions have are populated by people at the extremes of competence and credibility. There are the pros, who spit their game like it’s the only sixty-second syntax chain their brain holds dear. They articulate each phrase well, and their eyebrows waltz in perfect time with the words they animate. But with prowess comes the other side of the spectrum. The desperate at Startup Weekend were, um, very much so.

After pitches we congregate, collaborate, extrapolate and incorporate; Chicago’s new tech potentates cerebrate. From team-based co-mingling and fifty-four hours of incubation come ideas brought to the edge of happening. Winners might Y Combinate.

Rhyming aside, I found my experience at Startup Weekend interesting. It forced me to think quickly and with a degree of granularity I’m not used to applying to the “real world.” I met marketers, tech bloggers (for one of whom I might be contributing a column on college students and technology), lawyers, students, hipster organic cycling enthusiasts, and the most preternaturally energetic 30-somethings ever. I ate a dozen tiny bags of PopChips and several WaoBao baos, but my real fuel was autogenous norepinephrine and the three xanthines found in yerba máte, which was imbibed by the double-brewed mugful. I met people and had many of those “Ohmigod I’ve followed your Tweets for months! It’s a pleasure to meet you in person!” moments. I actually found out what Twitter’s target-audience is: them.

The degree to which I’m ignorant of the technological space is astonishing, and I now understand that I’ve been looking into the wrong end of the telescope: the universe of aforesaid ignorance is much larger than I ever imagined. I introduced myself as a Luddite, they called me a “normal” and spoke their acronym-heavy language slowly and loudly to me. Now, I can’t build out a UI over a back-end API, but I can understand what’s being talked about.

I asked myself as I stumbled into my room on Sunday night , remembering that I had school the next day, and realizing that I’d gotten no work done over the weekend whether I’m doing this again. Hell yes. It says something that an undergraduate-led team won SWChi, and I’m proud to say that the winning idea’s progenitor, Colin Young, is a good friend of mine. I’ve attached a video of the Uber Cmd pitch, delivered by Mr. Young himself. It begins on the embedded video below at 1:23:00.

http://www.ustream.tv/flash/video/10866892?v3=1

Congrats again, UberCmd.

Are you too smart for college?

What I believe the value of a “college education” to be is the following: the formalistic academic environment provided by our nations’ colleges and universities provides its young people with the framework–the papers, the reading assignments, the problem sets, etc.–to undertake the rather formidable task of consuming and digesting giant quantities of information, and, hopefully, be able to articulate it come the time for an exam or term paper.

Over the course of the past week, as I begin to say good byes and good lucks to my friends graduating from the University of Chicago, I’ve been doing some thinking. Why am I going through the process of “getting a college education?” Which I suppose can be rephrased as “what is a ‘college education,’ what’s so important about it, and why do I have to pay so much for one when all I’m doing is writing papers and reading books?” This quickly degenerates into an eggheaded discussion about what, ontologically, “education” is: I am not here to have that discussion, nor do I want to have it. Ever again.

What I believe the value of a “college education” to be is the following: the formalistic academic environment provided by our nations’ colleges and universities provides its young people with the framework–the papers, the reading assignments, the problem sets, etc.–to undertake the rather formidable task of consuming and digesting giant quantities of information, and, hopefully, be able to articulate it come the time for an exam or term paper. It is assumed by unwitting and idealistic faculty that “critical thinking” skills, among others, are picked up along the way. However, and I am not the first to say it, the internet and its attendant social networks and carefully hidden pockets of clandestine information have fundamentally changed the way that my classmates and I undertake the learning process; to wit, it is easier to get academic work “out of the way” without much intellectual effort in order to develop other projects. In short, we’ve hacked college. Most of us “get it done,” not for its own sake–”to learn and to grow”–but to GTFO, so to speak, and, as one of my fellow economics major friends so eloquently put it, “make shit-tons of money.”

If there is one thing that this year has taught me, it is the two flavors of motivation: does one pursue a goal as a means to some other end or as an end in itself? I, personally, have been straddling both sides of this duality, but as of late firmly decided that I only get to “do” college once, and thus I will devote myself as fully to the academic portion of it as possible. However, it seems that the pedagogical focus of the “modern college experience”–building a social network and padding a resume–is, effectively and convincingly, the cynosure among business-minded students–even at the ferociously eggheaded UChicago.

Consider the following conjecture: If you are the entrepreneurial type, the type who wants to get out there and get something started, or if you believe that academia is holding you back from what you want to do, take it from someone who’s read way too much in his life: Aristotle, Nietzsche, Adam Smith, and Karl Marx won’t make you successful. They will, however, help you find significance in your accomplishments. If you’re the retrospective type, one that cerebrates post hoc, you’ll be able to educate yourself later not because society is telling you to, but because you can approach that process with the same zeal with which you approach your current projects. If you have all of these great world-changing ideas, the wherewithal to see them through to execution and are willing to forego the short-term social cache of a college degree, then find an experienced mentor or two, build your network, and get cracking.

Parents often counter their college-bound teens’ assertions that many of today’s most prosperous companies were started by college drop-outs with the fact that their founders were smart enough to get into college in the first place. Bill Gates was also smart enough to realize that if he didn’t start Microsoft, somebody else would.

I’m not making any claims to being too smart for college. I enjoy academic life, and I want the social validation of a degree. I am, in fact, too cowardly to take the plunge into starting my projects in earnest now; few are willing to make that leap, and that’s the point. That said, I am currently researching options for a gap year.