… you can, and should, do this little “What is it in itself?” exercise for everything. What is Amazon in itself? Speed. Information velocity. Consumerism. I noticed a funny thing when I moved from the bigger city to a smaller town on the outskirts: All of a sudden I had a lot more money in the bank at the end of the month. I pulled my statements, and found out that I wasn’t spending nearly as much on impulse buys. I had to plan shopping trips to the grocery store, so not only did I save money, I ate better — in the old days, when I was hungry, I’d swing by the drive thru, because it was right there. Or I’d zip down to the store to grab a few things to cook, which ended up grabbing a bunch of other things, because it was right there.
Amazon works the same way. If you have to plan your trips to the grocery store, you have to ask yourself: Do I really need this? There are many fewer chances for impulse buys. When the store’s right there, you just run down and satisfy whatever momentary craving you happen to have. Same with Amazon — if you had to make a special store to get that piece of Chinese junk, you wouldn’t. But Amazon is right there, on the phone …
Haste. Impulsiveness. The instant, unexamined gratification of each and every urge. Those are the things the Left encourages. That’s what all that stuff is fundamentally for — Amazon, Twitter, smartphones, the whole deal.
That, therefore, is what we must reject. Call it “Rejectionism” if you want to make it into a sales pitch (or something better; I suck at titles). The Left’s “morality” is to treat everything — health, beauty, pleasure, the Economy, politics, people — as means to one and only one end: The instant, unthinking gratification of each and every momentary impulse.
We reject it. We reject the Internet. It’s a tool, nothing more, and remember what they say about hammers: When a hammer’s all you’ve got, everything looks like a nail. Reject it. Reject it all, for your soul’s sake.
Severian, “Rejectionism”, Founding Questions, 2022-05-24.
March 21, 2026
QotD: Rejectionism
August 27, 2025
In praise of the book
Ted Gioia contemplates the glorious future of the book:
A decades-old bookmark from a Toronto Book City location (probably the store on the Danforth near Chester).
Can you imagine data storage that never needs an upgrade. Even better, there’s no subscription fee. And the system never crashes — there hasn’t been a single minute of down time in recorded history.
And there’s still more:
- There are no terms of service.
- No hidden fees.
- No customer service bots to deal with.
- No annoying follow-up spam emails and texts.
- No privacy intrusions or surveillance of any sort.
- No data incompatibility issues now or in the future.
- No advertising or solicitations of any sort.
The list continues — no cookies, no credit cards, no come-ons, no conditions. None of that.
What a miracle!
I’m talking about my favorite handheld device, and I don’t need a cloud to hold its contents. Just a shelf.
You guessed it — I’m referring to books. They’re the greatest hard storage concept in human history, and nothing else comes close.
The book is the ultimate killer app.
People have been predicting the death of the book for decades. The Internet was going to make them obsolete. But somehow they survived.
The launch of the Kindle in 2007 posed a bigger threat. Even I was convinced — at least for a while. I bought a Kindle and tried it out, plunging with enthusiasm into the world of eBooks and digital storage.
But a month later, I’d returned to physical books. It was a better experience in every way.
It didn’t help when Amazon started deleting books from Kindles. Much to the customers’ surprise, they learned that they didn’t own the book they had bought — they were merely “purchasing a license to the content“.
Access can be terminated. And Amazon is the ultimate terminator.
That’s never happened to any physical book on my shelf. I own thousands of them, and nobody has ever revoked my access. I can also sell or give them to others, and they will retain rights in perpetuity.
You can’t do that with a Kindle. You’re not allowed to sell an eBook. You can’t even donate it to a library. Your license is restricted and non-transferable.
But transferability is how books and literary culture survive. Books are supposed to move without friction across generations and borders and boundaries. Some books have had dozens of owners over hundreds of years — creating a legacy unknown in the world of digital technologies.
Even more insidious, Amazon will update books on your Kindle — changing the text without the reader or author’s permission. That’s happened, for example, to books by Roald Dahl, R.L. Stine, Ian Fleming, and Agatha Christie. If somebody in a position of power decides that an author’s work is problematic, your e-book gets cleansed.
July 22, 2025
The internet keeps getting worse. Let’s talk about why.
Jared Henderson
Published 16 Jul 2025Why do major online platforms keep getting worse? Cory Doctorow’s work helps us understand the pattern of growth, decline, and eventual demise.
→ Timestamps
00:00 Beginning
00:51 How Platforms Die
08:29 The Death of a Platform (From the Inside)
12:14 Ads, Everywhere
14:47 Yes, I Make Money from Ads
16:32 Bots
22:04 The Internet We Need
(more…)
March 19, 2025
Solving the “Spotify problem”
Sadly, as Tim Worstall explains, it probably can’t be done:
It’s that time of year for the ritual complaints about Spotify. Woes, musicians can’t get any money.
The reason for this is that we out here, the Great Unwashed, value recorded music at something just above toss. Therefore musicians get paid, on average, just above toss. And there we have it, there’s the whole and the complete of the thing.
Spotify is trumpeting big paydays for artists – but only a tiny fraction of them are actually thriving
Yep.
$10bn is a hefty number, but it needs to be closely examined. This money, around two-thirds of its total income, is what Spotify has paid through to record labels and music publishers. Spotify cannot be held responsible for egregious label and publisher contracts, but it needs reiterating that only a portion of that $10bn will make its way to the people who wrote and recorded the music.
The company also says this $10bn is “more than any single retailer has ever paid in a year” and is “10x the contribution of the largest record store at the height of the CD era”. That may be true, but it says less about Spotify’s benevolence and more about how streaming’s market share has mostly consolidated into the hands of four global heavyweights – Spotify, Apple, YouTube and Amazon.
Only one part of that has any relevance. The $10 billion and the 2/3rds.
Obviously there are costs to running a company. To running the servers which hold near all of all recorded music. Of being able to get that out onto the internet.
The $10 billion (OK, 15) is about what people think music is worth to them.
[…]
The reason your really important socially relevant indie band is touring the upper peninsula, still after all these years, the bogs are your changing room and the only rider you’ve been able to achieve is access to tap water, is that the general public values your output at some fraction above toss. Therefore you earn that fraction above toss.
Really, that’s it. It’s not capitalism it’s general public indifference. Really, folk just don’t care.
March 11, 2025
Could even William Shakespeare rescue Hollywood?
Ted Gioia laments the apparent death of creativity in Hollywood over the last few decades:
They need somebody like Bill Shakespeare in Hollywood today.
That’s not as crazy as it sounds. We know very little about the Bard of Avon, but these facts are indisputable:
- He worked successfully in the entertainment business for 30 years.
- He mastered the art of the deal — all six of his surviving signatures come from legal documents.
- He handled money wisely, as entrepreneur, grain merchant, property owner, money lender, etc.
- He still sells tickets today — more than 400 years after his death.
Not even Harvey Weinstein can match that track record.
And — best of all—Shakespeare didn’t let business get in the way of creativity. He knew how to make a buck without compromising his Bard status.
Here’s another fact about Shakespeare: He never used the words “intellectual property” or “content” or “brand franchise”.
I was reminded of that recently when I encountered this headline in The Hollywood Reporter.
I’ve often accused the entertainment industry of abandoning creativity — and turning into boring IP [intellectual property] management companies run by lawyers, bankers, and accountants.
But they don’t even hide it anymore.
There was a day when they pretended to care about artistry — seeking out fresh talent and bold new ideas. But today it’s the exact opposite. They actually want content.
(This is where I concur with Barbara Broccoli, who had creative control over the James Bond films until last week. She forced Amazon execs to buy her out, after she called them “fucking idiots”. This outburst happened in response to the head of Amazon Studios describing the Bond films as content.)
So I read the Bain report and wept. So would Shakespeare — he would rage like King Lear on the heath if he saw a sentence like this:
[Media] companies are essentially themselves converging to compete with the tech media platforms; they’re also acquiring to gain more evergreen IP that can be used across modalities. By owning these cross-sector assets and IP, they create fan communities and multimodal content …
I thought content was bad enough. But we’re now dealing with multimodal content.
That sounds like one of the seven plagues of ancient Egypt — a step above locusts, but definitely worse than frogs and hail. Somebody at the consultancy deserves to be smote down at bonus time.
September 30, 2024
QotD: Compound eyes as models of how the surveillance state operates
The compound eye is a good way to imagine how the surveillance state will keep tabs on the subjects in the near future. Unlike the dystopian future imagined by science fiction, it will not be one eye focusing on one heretic, following him around as he goes about his business. Instead it will be tens of millions of eyes obtaining various bits of information, sending it back to the data-centers run by Big Tech. That information will be assembled into the broad mosaic that is daily life.
For example, rather than use informants and undercover operatives to flesh out conspiracies against the state, the surveillance state will use community detection to model the network of heretics. Since everyone is hooked into the grid in some fashion and everyone addresses nodes of the grid on a regular basis, keeping track of someone is now something that can be done from a cubicle. There is no need to actually follow someone around as they go about their life.
For example, everyone has a mobile phone. At every point, the phone is tracking its location, which means it is tracking your location. It also knows the time and day when you go into various businesses. Most people use cards to pay miscellaneous items, so just that information would tell the curious a lot about you. Combine that information with the same information from other phones that come into close proximity with your phone and figuring out the community structure is simple.
Of course, the mobile phone is not the only input device. Over Christmas, millions of Americans were encouraged to install surveillance devices in their homes by friends and family. Maybe it was an Alexa listening device from Amazon or a Nest Doorbell surveillance device from Google. All of these gadgets are collecting data on your life inside and around your home. It is then fed to the same data-centers that have all of your movements and associations collected from your phone.
The Z Man, “The Compound Eye”, The Z Blog, 2020-01-08.
September 27, 2024
Ronald Reagan never said this … but Karl Marx did
At The Take, Jon Miltimore discusses a fake Ronald Reagan quote-on-a-poster being sold through Amazon and reveals that the quote actually originates with Karl Marx:
For just $9.99, people can go on Amazon and buy wall art of Ronald Reagan apparently defending the Second Amendment.
“Under no pretext should arms and ammunition be surrendered,” the text reads next to a picture of Reagan; “any attempts to disarm the people must be stopped, by force if necessary”.
There are a few problems with the quote, but the biggest one is that Reagan never said it.
As numerous fact checkers have noted — including Reuters, Snopes, Factcheck.org, and Politifact — the author of the quote is none other than Karl Marx, the German philosopher and author of The Communist Manifesto who used language nearly verbatim to this in an 1850 address in London.
“Under no pretext should arms and ammunition be surrendered; any attempt to disarm the workers must be frustrated, by force if necessary,” Marx said in his “Address of the Central Committee to the Communist League“.
Marxists Not Embracing Marx’s Messaging?
In fairness to the many internet users duped by the fake Reagan meme, the quote sounds a bit like something Reagan could have said (though it’s highly unlikely the Gipper, a skilled and careful orator, would have ever said “by force if necessary”).
Reagan, after all, generally — though not universally — supported gun rights and was skeptical of efforts to restrict firearms.
“You won’t get gun control by disarming law-abiding citizens,” Reagan famously noted in a 1983 speech.
Some might be surprised that Marx and Reagan had similar views on gun control. Marx was of course the father of communism, whereas Reagan was famously anti-communist. Moreover, Marx’s modern disciples are staunch supporters of gun control, whether they identify as socialists or progressives.
“Guns in the United States pose a real threat to public health and safety and disproportionately impact communities of color,” Nivedita Majumdar, an associate professor of English at John Jay College, wrote in the Marxist magazine Jacobin. “Their preponderance only serves corporate interests, a corrupt political establishment, and an alienated capitalist culture.”
This distaste for guns goes beyond socialist magazines. As The Atlantic reported during the 2020 presidential election cycle, progressive politicians are increasingly embracing more stringent federal gun control laws.
“No longer are primary candidates merely calling for tighter background checks and a ban on assault weapons,” journalist Russell Berman wrote; “in 2019, contenders like Senator Cory Booker of New Jersey and Representative Beto O’Rourke of Texas were calling for national licensing requirements and gun-buyback programs”.
The point here is not to disparage politicians like O’Rourke and Booker as “Marxists”, a label they’d almost certainly object to. The point is that progressive politicians like Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY) might channel Marx in their class rhetoric, but they are not embracing his messaging when it comes to the proletariat’s access to firearms.
As it happens, this is a common theme with Marxists throughout history.
June 11, 2024
We’ve descended into some sort of bizarre hellworld where Jeremy Clarkson can be described as an “unlikely national treasure”
In The Critic, Kara Kennedy considers the possibility that Jeremy Clarkson, the petrolhead’s petrolhead, might actually have a soul:
Screencap from Jeremy Clarkson’s banned Hawkstone Lager ad
The last truly poignant thing I watched on television was a show about a grumpy farmer raising piglets. He’s a city gentleman new to farming, but what may have started out as a gimmick has, over three growing seasons, transformed into a real calling. Or a passion, even. And one that, in some moments, sees him battle with life and death. Unfortunately, for a lot of the little piglets, it was death. After watching their births — their first moments and last, after their delinquent pig mothers smothered them without a care in the world — I cried. My husband cried. The friends who we harangued to watch the season again with us cried. And Jeremy Clarkson cried.
Yes, I am talking about Jeremy Clarkson on Clarkson’s Farm, streaming on Amazon Prime Video. Clarkson, over the last few decades, has made a career for himself in part by being easy to hate. It is uncomfortable for everybody, himself included, that the miserable boomer has turned into an unlikely national treasure, and all it took was some honest work.
Clarkson is cultural marmite. After 35 years on the BBC’s Top Gear, he is revered in the petrolhead community as a god. Newspapers love him because he’s impolite and will sell some prime “you can’t say anything anymore” content. Meghan Markle hates him after he once wrote he was “dreaming of the day” that British crowds threw lumps of shit at her. Feminists hate him for mostly that same reason. Leftists hate him for writing once that striking workers should be “shot in front of their families”. As for the denizens of the countryside, he has maintained a multi-decade fight in his newspaper column with ramblers.
Basically, the answer to whether you like Clarkson relies really on whether you take what a funny old guy says seriously. But there are some legitimate grievances towards the presenter too. When he was finally bounced from the Beeb, it was because he punched a producer. And as annoying as the people who had long had it in for Clarkson had always been, it is not some new Gen Z norm or innovation of “cancel culture” to say you can’t physically assault your colleague. That said, the producer in question did sue him for racial injury, which is a bit closer. (He called him Irish, for God’s sake!) The crux of it, anyway, is that Clarkson is badly behaved and probably too inconsistent to be trusted by any major TV network. He wound up on Amazon Prime’s The Grand Tour, a just-changed-enough-to-be-legal Top Gear clone, once again drawing a massive and mostly male audience that loves to memorise the 0-60 times of cars only oligarchs can ever afford.
But, once The Grand Tour began winding down — it now returns just for the occasional travel special — the old presenters went off to make spinoffs for Amazon. And Clarkson decided to make his, and to rejigger his Times column, around his 1000 acre country farm in the Cotswolds. And that is where, through epiphany, necessity, human nature, act of God, or sheer growing up, Clarkson was reborn as someone who not just the lovers of edgy humour and high horsepower figures can admire.
January 15, 2024
Grave Error
In the latest SHuSH newsletter, Ken Whyte calls our attention to an important book on a major Canadian topic … that has been ignored by the Canadian media establishment (as one would expect if it contravenes the official narrative):
Have you read Grave Error? Have you seen it on the shelves in your local bookstore? At the library, perhaps? Did you notice coverage of it in the Globe or hear someone talking about it on CBC?
I’d bet ninety-eight out of a hundred SHuSH readers would answer “no” to all those questions.
The full title of the book is Grave Error: How the Media Misled Us (and the Truth About Residential Schools). Its authors are former University of Calgary political scientist and Harper aide Tom Flanagan and Chris Champion, editor of the Dorchester Review. The book takes strong exception to commentary by media, politicians, and Indigenous leaders on the subject of unmarked graves at a former Kamloops Indian Residential School. I first noticed it over the holidays, several weeks after publication, when it was the overall #1 bestseller on Amazon.
It’s not easy to become the top-selling book on Amazon. You’re competing against Colleen Hoover and Prince Harry and the entire world of books, published and self-published. Grave Error was the only Canadian book, fiction or nonfiction, in Amazon’s top fifty when I came across it. It’s rare to see more than two or three Canadian books in Amazon’s top fifty at any given time.
You won’t have noticed Grave Error in your local bookstore because Amazon is the only outlet that’s selling the book. You won’t have seen coverage of it because no mainstream Canadian media outlet has paid attention to it. Nor does any public library stock it. It has not appeared on any conventional bestseller list, although it has to be a Canadian bestseller — Amazon sells well over half of all books in Canada. Most Amazon sales don’t register on our bestseller lists because Amazon doesn’t cooperate with the organizations that produce the lists.
Grave Error is published by True North, a conservative news website and public policy organization. It is run by Candace Malcolm, who founded True North with her husband, Kaz Nejatian, a former Jason Kenney staffer, now COO of Spotify. It’s published a half dozen hits in recent years, several written by Malcolm herself.
September 17, 2023
Why Indigo’s struggles are far from over
Following up from last week, in this week’s SHuSH newsletter Ken Whyte explains why Indigo went in the direction it chose and why it seemed like the thing to do at that time:
“Indigo Books and Music” by Open Grid Scheduler / Grid Engine is licensed under CC0 1.0
Bookselling is a difficult business and it’s been especially difficult over the last twenty years. The Internet captured a lot of the used book business and shifted it online. Amazon captured a lot of the new book business and shifted it online (and bought Abebooks.com, one of the largest used book sites).
Former Indigo CEO Heather Reisman tried and failed to convince the federal government to keep Amazon south of the border back around 2002. She went so far as to sue the feds on the grounds that Amazon, as a cultural entity, was not majority-owned by Canadians and therefore operating in contravention of the Investment Canada Act. The suit went nowhere because Amazon then had no physical presence in Canada; it operated primarily through Canada Post. By the time Amazon did announce its intention to build a warehouse north of the border, early in 2010, the government had given up enforcing the Investment Canada Act. It was happy to have Amazon create new jobs.
It was when Amazon opened its Canadian warehouse that Heather began backing Indigo out of the book business. She cursed Amazon for its anticompetitive practices, not least its habit of selling books below cost to destroy competitors, and adopted the term “cultural department store” as a pivot from bookstores.
I’ve made it clear in newsletter after newsletter that I don’t like the direction Heather took Indigo but it’s only fair to look back at prevailing circumstances in 2010 and wonder if she really had a choice.
I’m sure she had stacks of research and hordes of people telling her that abandoning books was the only move. Attempting to compete with Amazon’s enormous scale and superior logistics would have struck many as a fool’s errand. Amazon would always have the largest selection, the best price, and the fastest delivery.
There was also a widespread belief that print was dead. E-books, e-readers, and tablets were the future, along with the “one very, very, very large single text“. Global e-reader sales were growing like this:
They were expected to keep growing. So were sales of e-books. In 2012, the Financial Post quoted data from Indigo predicting that e-books would capture 50 percent of the market in five years.
So, having played the Canadian Nationalist card and discovering that the government was willing to bluster but not to meaningfully act, Heather Reisman took the advice of her consultants and diversified away from books and into all the utter crap that currently befoul at least half of the retail space in every Indigo store. After all, the big box bookstores in the United States were clearly failing in the face of Amazon, with Borders filing for bankruptcy and Barnes & Noble staggering in the same direction. From 1999 to 2019, fully half of all the bookstores in the country disappeared.
The story isn’t as bleak as it looked in 2019, as Barnes & Noble is staging quite a comeback by concentrating on the book business. It’s a radical move, but Indigo could do far worse than cooking up a maple-flavoured version of the Barnes & Noble strategy. It might fail, but they’ll definitely fail if they keep on pretending to be a department gift store that also has a few books.
January 14, 2023
More on the Barnes & Noble turnaround
In the latest SHuSH newsletter, Ken Whyte looks at the Barnes & Noble recovery story (discussed a couple of weeks back):
“Barnes & Noble Book Store” by JeepersMedia is licensed under CC BY 2.0 
.
Back in 2018, the bookselling chain was losing $18 million a year. It had just fired 1,800 full-time employees. About 150 stores had been closed, leaving the company with 600. It had lost its fourth CEO in five years, this one to a sexual-harassment charge. The firm’s big digital initiative, the Nook e-reader, was a flop. The share price was down 80 percent.
Not only was the business failing: it was demoralized. As the writer Ted Gioia noted in a recent newsletter, B&N had lost faith in the public’s willingness to buy books from anyone but Amazon. Its leadership “shifted a huge portion of its floorspace to peddling toys, greeting cards, calendars, and various tchotchkes”. It doubled down on in-store cafes and even tried launching freestanding Barnes & Noble restaurants.
Just when it seemed B&N was certain to follow the path of its former competitor, the Borders chain, which closed in 2011, it was purchased for $638 million (US) by Elliott Advisors, a hedge fund.
SHuSH has been skeptical about the record of hedge funds in the cultural space. We are also skeptical of hedge funds in the retail space where they have a well-established record of buying chains, slashing costs, and driving them into the ground: Sears, Toys R Us, Payless Shoes, Radio Shack, Aeropostale, Sports Authority, etc.
Elliott Advisors is an exception.
The UK based-firm has a demonstrated commitment to bookselling (at least in the medium term — more on this later). It bought the Waterstones chain in 2018. Waterstones and its 283 stores had been rescued from near-bankruptcy in 2011 by lifelong bookseller James Daunt and a Russian backer. Elliott kept Daunt at the helm and a year later bought Barnes & Noble and added this second chain to his responsibilities.
Daunt acknowledged that Barnes & Noble was in rough shape when acquired by Elliott. Its stores were “crucifyingly boring”. But he was confident the chain could be turned around. There was no template or magic ingredient, he said. It was a simple matter of “running really nice bookshops”. To that end, he gives his stores unusual autonomy to develop their own personalities and tailor their stock to the interests of their communities.
Barnes & Noble stores have since dropped most of their crap: they no longer look like big-box flea markets. They’ve quit accepting payments from the major publishers to put their books on display, a practice that brought B&N revenue but left publishers in charge of what customers saw when they walked into stores. Local managers now decide how their books are presented based on what they think will appeal to their customers.
The company used the COVID lockdown to freshen up its dowdy stores. Managers were instructed to take every single book off the shelves and “weed out the rubbish”. Walls were painted, aged carpet replaced, furnishings upgraded. The result is a much improved browsing experience. Readers like to browse.
There were hard decisions, too. Daunt cut the B&N head office staff in half and shed about 5,000 of 30,000 employees.
All in all, it worked. Last spring, The New York Times reported that sales were up and costs were down at Barnes & Noble and that “the same people who for decades saw the superchain as a supervillain are celebrating its success. In the past, the book-selling empire, with 600 outposts across all 50 states, was seen by many readers, writers and book lovers as strong-arming publishers and gobbling up independent stores in its quest for market share … Today, virtually the entire publishing industry is rooting for Barnes & Noble — including most independent booksellers. Its unique role in the book ecosystem, where it helps readers discover new titles and publishers stay invested in physical stores, makes it an essential anchor in a world upended by online sales and a much larger player: Amazon.”
There are not a lot of reliable financial numbers available on Barnes & Noble because it is no longer a public company, but it reports that its 2021 sales in were up 3 percent over pre-pandemic times. Most importantly, sales of books were up 14 percent.
December 30, 2022
Barnes & Noble used to be like an even more boring Indigo … but they’ve been turned around
Back when my job required more travel, one of the things I used to look forward to was visiting US bookstores, as they always had a wider and more interesting stock than our staid Canadian equivalents. Over time, the interesting local bookstores got harder and harder to find as the big box stores like Borders and Barnes & Noble took over much of their customer base. Of the two, I much preferred going into a Borders store, as they had better stock than B&N and the staff seemed friendlier and (generally) more helpful to clueless foreigners like me. Borders went under around the same time my business travels to the US tapered off and it looked like it was only a matter of time for B&N to follow it into bankruptcy. Even if it struggled on, surely the pandemic killed off what Amazon left behind? Ted Gioia says not so fast:
“Barnes & Noble Book Store” by JeepersMedia is licensed under CC BY 2.0 .
But Barnes & Noble is flourishing. After a long decline, the company is profitable and growing again — and last week announced plans to open 30 new stores. In some instances, they are taking over locations where Amazon tried (and failed) to operate bookstores.
Amazon seems invincible. So the idea that Barnes & Noble can succeed where its much larger competitor failed is hard to believe. But the turnaround at B&N is real. In many instances they have already re-opened in locations where they previously shut down.
Barnes & Noble tried exactly the same sort of “re-imagining” of their stores that Canada’s Indigo chain is currently floundering with: cutting back on the floorspace devoted to books in favour of throw cushions, candles, decorations, bath salts, scarfs and towels. It worked just as badly for B&N as it is working for Indigo: it chases out the primary customer base (book-buyers) in favour of bored people looking to waste away an hour or two just browsing tchotchkes. (And if you can find an Indigo staff member to ask about a particular book, they almost always assure you that you can find it on their website, which I’m sure helps bring more people into the store …) In desperation, B&N looked to expand into a very different market:
… in a bizarre strategic move, the company decided to launch freestanding restaurants under the name Barnes & Noble Kitchen — no books, just meals. But this was another disaster.
The company chairman Leonard Riggio eventually admitted, in September 2018, that running a restaurant is “a lot harder than you think it is … The bottom line is awful.”
Given the incredibly short and profitless life of most start-up restaurants, that really does qualify as a “No shit, Sherlock” moment. So how did Barnes & Noble turn things around?
It’s amazing how much difference a new boss can make.
I’ve seen that firsthand so many times. I now have a rule of thumb: “There is no substitute for good decisions at the top — and no remedy for stupid ones.”
It’s really that simple. When the CEO makes foolish blunders, all the wisdom and hard work of everyone else in the company is insufficient to compensate. You only fix these problems by starting at the top.
In the case of Barnes & Noble, the new boss was named James Daunt. And he had already turned around Waterstones, a struggling book retailing chain in Britain.
Bringing in fresh blood can be a life-saver for a business, but we also have that expression about deck chairs on the Titanic in common business parlance, so just being “new” isn’t enough … new leaders must also bring new approaches and fresh ideas:
But the most amazing thing Daunt did at Waterstones was this: He refused to take any promotional money from publishers.
This seemed stark raving mad. But Daunt had a reason. Publishers give you promotional money in exchange for purchase commitments and prominent placement — but once you take the cash, you’ve made your deal with the devil. You now must put stacks of the promoted books in the most visible parts of the store, and sell them like they’re the holy script of some new cure-all creed.
Those promoted books are the first things you see when you walk by the window. They welcome you when you step inside the front door. They wink at you again next to the checkout counter.
Leaked emails show ridiculous deals. Publishers give discounts and thousands of dollars in marketing support, but the store must buy a boatload of copies — even if the book sucks and demand is weak — and push them as aggressively as possible.
Publishers do this in order to force-feed a book on to the bestseller list, using the brute force of marketing money to drive sales. If you flog that bad boy ruthlessly enough, it might compensate for the inferiority of the book itself. Booksellers, for their part, sweep up the promo cash, and maybe even get a discount that allows them to under-price Amazon.
Everybody wins. Except maybe the reader.
Daunt refused to play this game. He wanted to put the best books in the window. He wanted to display the most exciting books by the front door. Even more amazing, he let the people working in the stores make these decisions.
This is James Daunt’s super power: He loves books.
“Staff are now in control of their own shops”, he explained. “Hopefully they’re enjoying their work more. They’re creating something very different in each store.”
This crazy strategy proved so successful at Waterstones, that returns fell almost to zero — 97% of the books placed on the shelves were purchased by customers. That’s an amazing figure in the book business.
On the basis of this success, Daunt was put in charge of Barnes & Noble in August 2019. But could he really bring that dinosaur, on the brink of extinction, back to life?
November 26, 2022
Indigo vastly prefers selling pillows, candles, and tchotchkes of all kinds rather than – ugh! – books
In the latest SHuSH newsletter, Ken Whyte explains why it’s becoming harder and harder to find actual books in Canada’s biggest bookstore chain … because they no longer want to be a bookstore chain:
“Indigo Books and Music” by Open Grid Scheduler / Grid Engine is licensed under CC0 1.0
We need to talk about Indigo. As you know, it’s Canada’s biggest bookstore chain, with 88 superstores and 85 small-format stores. It sells well over half the books that are bought in stores in Canada, with Walmart, Costco, and independent bookstores accounting for most of the rest.
One problem with Indigo is that it’s failing. The other problem is that it’s abandoning bookselling. Yes, that sounds like a Woody Allen joke, but it’s not funny from a publishing perspective. We depend on Indigo.
The company’s finances have been ugly for some time. It lost $37 million in 2019, $185 million in 2020, and $57 million in 2021. Things looked somewhat better in 2022 with a $3 million profit, but the first two quarters of 2023 are now in the books (it has a March 28 year end) and Indigo has already dropped $41.3 million.
[…]
Indigo hasn’t come right out and said we’re through with books. It can’t, given that Heather [Reisman] has spent the last twenty-five years building herself up as the queen of reading in Canada. Also, the Indigo brand is still associated with books in most people’s minds and that won’t change overnight no matter how many cheeseboards it stocks. So Heather talks about a gradual, natural transition: “We built a wonderful connection with our customers in the book business. Then, organically, certain products became less relevant and others were opportunities.”
To be clear, books are irrelevant; general merchandise is the opportunity. Heather recently appointed as CEO a guy named Peter Ruis who has no experience in books. He comes from fashion retail, most recently the Anthropologie chain, which sells clothing, shoes, accessories, home furnishings, furniture, and beauty products. Anthropologie was hot in 2008, and it seems to be where Indigo wants to go today.
Fair enough. You own a company, you can take it in any direction you want, so long as your shareholders will follow. I don’t blame Heather for having second thoughts about the book business. (I have them every week. It’s a tough business.) But where does that leave readers, writers, agents, publishers, and everyone else who remains committed to books?
You’ll recall that Indigo and Chapters, between them, decimated the independent bookselling sector in Canada in the nineties. They are the principal reason Canada has so few independent bookstores today. You could probably fit the combined stock of all our independents into a handful of Heather’s stores.
The federal government let Heather’s Indigo buy Larry Stevenson’s Chapters in 2001, which gave her a ridiculously large share of the market. That shouldn’t have happened.
At the same time, with the help of some lobbying by Heather, the federal government made it clear that the US chains, Borders and Barnes & Noble, weren’t welcome up here. The argument was that bookselling was a crucial part of our cultural sector and needed to be protected from foreign domination by the Canadian government.
In that spirit, Indigo also asked the federal government to prevent Amazon from opening warehouses in Canada. That request was denied in 2010, which is about when Indigo began its transition out of books.
One can see how Heather might feel betrayed by the federal government. Instead of protecting bookselling, it swung the door wide open for Amazon. You said I wouldn’t have to compete!
May 3, 2022
Is all of social media just a “giant domestic surveillance operation”?
Severian posted this last week, but I’m only just getting caught up now:
I was wrong about Musk buying Twitter. Lot of that going around — the Z Man got a whole podcast on “avoiding error” from his misread of the situation. It’s well worth a listen. I, too, had a “hot take” on Musk’s offer — not that it was particularly hot, as most folks on this side were saying it, but I too thought it was a stunt. After all, Musk, like Bezos and all the other “new commerce” billionaires, don’t exist without massive government support. I figured his “offer” was stoyak — he’s got something in the works in the Imperial Capital and needed to play hardball with somebody.
But I was also working off my longstanding assumption that Twitter, Faceborg, and all the rest are essentially CIA / NSA fronts. When I first heard about Facebook, my first thought was “Wait, don’t we already have Friendster? What does this bring to the table?” My second thought was the first one I’d had about Friendster: “That’s clever, I guess, but how on earth is this going to make money? Even if they saturate it with ads, to the point where it’s unusable — which will happen in about two weeks — they can’t monetize your personal data any farther. People are pretty set in their habits — once the algorithm figures out you’re the kind of guy who likes anime and New Wave music, any further data is useless.”
Being a much more naive, trusting sort back then, I figured it was just stupidity. You know, Pets.com level stupidity. The VC boys were trying to get another dotcom bubble inflated, because if the first one proved anything, it’s that people are dumb and will keep falling for the same obvious scam over and over. I could hear them in the board rooms: “This time, instead of sticking ‘cyber’ in front of everything, we’ll call it ‘Web 2.0.’ Cha-ching!”
Obviously that didn’t happen. So I went with the common explanation that was floating around in those days, that “social media” sites made their money by selling your data to advertisers. But that doesn’t pass the smell test either. For one thing, as I said above, your habits don’t change very much. For another, as anyone who has any experience with them knows, those algorithms really suck. The other day, for instance, I was listening to some old music one of the streaming music sites. And I mean really old. Nothing I’d played the whole morning had been composed after the 17th century, but the service’s algorithm was convinced that what I’d really like to listen to next was some rapper.
Indeed, the whole point of the ads on Pandora, Spotify, whatever seems to be: To annoy you to the point where you pay for their premium service. Pandora, for instance, either really really really believes I want a Surface Pro 8 and some Taco Bell, or they’re just playing those ads every two songs to annoy me into buying the premium service (which is every ad that isn’t Surface Pro or Taco Bell). Which is just bizarre, because I haven’t had Taco Bell since college — which was 30 years ago, and I paid cash — and this essay right here is the first time I have ever even typed the words “Surface Pro 8”, much less looked at the product.
I really wouldn’t be surprised that the “algorithm” is reading itself. Hey, this guy sure has seen a lot of ads for Taco Bell and Surface Pro! He must really want some!
But the algorithm for companies whose entire business model is e-commerce is no better. Amazon seems to have gone to a “push” model — they must be selling their suppliers on the idea that they can push you stuff, which is why they always pimp the same four or five items in the “Amazon’s Choice” recommendations, no matter what you’re searching for. And these again are laughably wrong — the only things I get off Amazon are used history and philosophy books, and stuff for my dog. Based on this, they have concluded that what I’m really looking for are chick lit and beach gear.
Given all that, I came to the conclusion that “social media” (and Amazon too, probably) really only have one customer, who really does have a use for your data, and that customer’s initials are CIA. It’s a giant domestic surveillance operation.
And why wouldn’t it be? The Regime has had a legitimacy problem for a long time, and a “feedback loop” problem for longer than that. Even if we assume no ulterior motives whatsoever — fat chance, but let’s stipulate — the fact remains that public opinion polling, however you want to define it, has a similar problem as psychological studies. Since the vast majority of study participants are college undergrads, what you get is WEIRD — that’s Western, educated, industrialized, rich and democratic, and also in a very narrow age range. Psych studies that purport to be universal are, at their very best, snapshots inside the head of the BCG.
If you haven’t encountered the Basic College Girl, he provided a thumbnail sketch here.
February 28, 2022
Hunting for books in the age of Amazon
In the latest SHuSH newsletter, Kenneth Whyte remembers book searches before the internet got commercial:
“Beat Ground Zero San Francisco 2014” by Mobilus In Mobili is licensed under 
Back in the late twentieth century, I used to build my vacations around book searches. Before going to any new town, I’d make a list of new and used bookstores and hit the best of them during my stay. There was a genuine excitement about entering each store: you never knew what you were going to find, and you were acutely aware that at any moment you might see something you’d never seen before or something you might never see again.
It was especially the fear of blowing that one chance of acquiring something special that turned me into a book hoarder. (I was never disciplined enough to be a collector; I only bought for my own use). Over the years, I accumulated tens of thousands of books. I’d rummage through them, once or twice a decade, and throw out the ones that no longer interested me to make room for new acquisitions. There were always new acquisitions, whether I was traveling or not.
Then came the internet and suddenly the whole concept of book scarcity blew up. Amazon had every new title one could want. I still go to my favorite bookstores when I travel — Daunt’s in London, Prairie Lights in Iowa City, Three Lives & Co. in Manhattan (the world’s most perfect small bookstore), Politics & Prose in DC, City Lights in San Francisco, The Last Bookstore in LA (further below), to name a few. I make the visits (none in the past two years) in part out of a sense of nostalgia for the waning era of brick-and-mortar, and also because well-curated shops often suggest books I might otherwise overlook.
Looking for books on vacation was always one of my habits, and before Amazon came along, I’d carefully search for bookstores along the route we’d be driving during our holiday and I rarely came back without a few armfuls of books. These days, especially since the era of lockdowns began, book stores are mostly just a memory … which is just as well in some sense because I have no disposable cash to spend on fripperies any more.
Of Ken’s list of favourite stores, I’ve only visited City Lights in San Francisco, back in early 1991. It was, bar none, the busiest bookstore I’d ever been in in my life. It rather felt like a record store (remember those?) on a big album release weekend than a staid, stodgy bookstore.
The internet also allowed used bookstores to put their wares online, and Bookfinder.com came along to organize their inventories. Bookfinder.com is a meta-search portal that allows book shoppers to scan the inventories of 100,000 booksellers at once. Type in a title and it will cough up an array of purchasing options: new, used, good condition, poor condition, former library copy, first edition, signed, etc. You compare editions and prices, make your choice, and click through to the bookseller’s site to finalize your purchase.
Bookfinder was launched by a Berkeley student named Anirvan Chatterjee in 1997, just a couple of years after Amazon was born. Chatterjee sold out to AbeBooks in 2005.
AbeBooks is a Canadian tech success story, originally operated out of Victoria by Rick & Vivian Pura and Keith & Cathy Waters. It is a digital marketplace that allows you to search the stock of a wide variety of established retailers. What differentiates it from Bookfinder is that you make your purchase right on the AbeBooks site. AbeBooks also sells the books it represents on other platforms, including eBay, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon. AbeBooks, in short, is a retail business while Bookfinder is a search tool.
AbeBooks was a dangerous discovery for me, and I bought a lot of books through them for a couple of years after discovering the service. Today, of course, not so much, especially as the shipping charges frequently run higher than the initial purchase price of the books themselves. Initially an independent service, AbeBooks is now owned by Amazon.
These days a lot of people want to shop for books anywhere but Amazon or its subsidiaries. For a non-Amazon version of AbeBooks you might try Alibris, founded by Martin Manley in California in 1997 (it’s been passed around to a range of venture capitalists and holding companies and is now in the hands of private investors). Biblio.com is another marketplace, serving mostly collectors. For non-Amazon alternatives to Bookfinder, viaLibri is a slick search tool that I only recently discovered, although it’s not quite as comprehensive as Bookfinder. Bookgilt is a good meta-search site for antiquarian and rare books. For new books, the best alternative to Bezos is your local bookstore, which can get you almost anything you need. See the map at the very bottom of this page or go to Bookshop.org or Indiebound.org. Or you can visit one of the chains, Chapters/Indigo or Barnes & Noble.
I still start most of my used book searches on Bookfinder. It’s old technology, Web 1.0, as hopelessly dated as the Drudge Report, but it works. I find it easy to navigate and it offers far more listings (and more information on each listing) than Amazon. I order from its smaller independents whenever practicable, although it’s often difficult to know exactly who you’re ordering from because the smaller shops are frequently represented on Bookfinder by their resellers, AbeBooks, Alibris, Amazon, and Biblio.
