Starbucks came to success on a commitment to quality and service that blows me away. Starbucks, led by Howard Schultz, set out to bring the “Romance of Coffee” to America. Read “Pour Your Heart Into It” for a profile in passion and a deliberate, conceptual attempt to make something great.  Schultz struggles continuously with the question of how to expand everywhere and build a successful company while maintaining the quality of one’s product. I think the company was pretty damned successful and love that–pretty much wherever you are in America–you can quickly find an inviting place to sit and enjoy a good cup of coffee.

Unfortunately, as Starbucks grew, it became everyone’s favorite whipping boy–a symbol alongside SUVs and the Gap for a kind of mindless, inauthentic consumerism. I think that much of the criticism is just the old, rotten knee-jerk hatred many people have of anything corporate. But when my girlfriend pointed out last Christmas that the Christmas CDs, cards, stuffed animals, etc completely swamped anything related to coffee; I had to agree that the experience wasn’t quite as strong as it used to be.

Which brings us to something exciting. A few months ago, Schultz returned to the CEO position of Starbucks, after having retired from the post in 2000. He unleashed a huge number of initiatives designed to return Starbucks to being the great coffee shop it was in the past. There’s a long way to go, but damn I’m excited about the idea of walking into the Starbucks Schultz envisions existing by this Fall. I think we could be in for something much better than the what Starbucks used to be.

Click here for a great, long story about a fantastic, righteous battle happening right in front of us.

Click here.

Or here for an interview.

Tae Kwon Do fascinates me, and I have been considering starting it. It is a martial art, which means that its goal is self-defense, but that’s not my main goal. Watch this video to see a human being use his body to break through boards. I can’t do that.

In pursuing Tae Kwon Do, one is taking direct control over his body, transforming it into something that seems superhuman. I like that you actually have a system that marks the progress you make in becoming superhuman, as you progress from the starting white belt, reaching yellow belt with practice, and potentially reaching black belt–showing true mastery.

For stories of Tae Kwon Do competitions, click here.

Several people have been credited as the historical inspiration for Indiana Jones; Roy Chapman Andrews is my favorite. Andrews worked for the American Natural History Museum in the early 20th century as a paleontologist. First and foremost, though, he was an adventurer. 

Andrews’ most famous expedition was a series of trips to dangerous China and Outer Mongolia in search of a treasure trove of fossilized dinosaurs at a time when such fossils were rare. On one of the trips, Andrews uncovered fossilized dinosaur eggs, the first proof that dinosaurs laid eggs rather than giving birth to their young live. Andrews kept a revolver by his side at all time and had to be on constant watch for wild dogs, sandstorms, and raiders.

Enjoy: http://www.madison.com/archives/read.php?ref=/wsj/2007/05/05/0705050243.php. 

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Science is a significant value of mine. It’s funny to me that people tend to find science dry or boring. To me, it’s anything but. 

Science allows you to walk around at the world and see something that makes sense and is beautiful for it. Look at a plane and see a balance of forces that result in suspension in the air. Look at the sun (through very, very thick sunglasses) and see a gigantic mass of fusion reactions. Look even at your own plate; look at shrimp plump in salt water and see supercharged osmosis. 

Pile on top of that exactly how damned valuable science is. As I write now in a cafe, I see everywhere the benefits of our discovery of electricity’s properties: warm lighting, machines that pump water through coffee at very high pressure, wooden chairs shaped with electric saws and sanders. And then there’s the benefits of chemistry: rich and long-lasting paints on the wall, the vacuum-packaging that keeps the coffee fresh.

That body of knowledge accumulated by the scientific pursuit is a huge achievement. It is the product of incredible people pushing onward to greater knowledge and clarity.

The particular story I’m linking to today is about research on a relatively undiscovered topic: autism. If you read media reports on autism, it would seem that everyone knows exactly what autism is and what causes it–vaccines. In truth, there are multiple hypotheses about the cause of autism, and the current scientific consensus is that vaccines are a very unlikely culprit. Further, there is argument about what autism even is (one hypothesis is that there are actually multiple syndromes all grouped together under the term of autism). I say this not to criticize current knowledge of autism but to point out the activity and enthusiasm that right now is going into understanding the syndrome. 

The story below about researchers Ami Kiln and Warren Jones struck me because of the joy and inventiveness Kiln and Jones bring to their work. In one example, Jones had the idea that doing eye-tracking on autistic children would be a fruitful avenue toward figuring out how to make a diagnosis. Since eye-tracking software is expensive, Jones had the children wear head gear with lasers mounted on top pointing forward. Thus, ingeniously, the laser’s movement would actually trace the path of the child’s attention. 

Proper diagnostic tools would be a large step in understanding what autism is, which populations have it, exactly when a particular child developed it, and–ultimately–what causes it. From this kind of understanding comes applications, including possibily knowledge of how to prevent autism, to improve the lives of those with it, possibly to cure it. Quite a prize.

Click here to read on.

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Friday I saw the first great film of the summer–Iron Man. It was a perfect action film: fun, exciting, charismatic, filled with great action, all upheld by just enough story, drama, and pathos that it actually added up to something substantial. I very highly recommend.

This sort of film is usually called–by both fans and critics–escapist. And yeah, I don’t regularly strap on jet-powered armor and shoot missles out my titanium alloy-covered wrists. But there’s a deeper level at which this sort of film is immensely valuable to your real life. It’s something I touched on in my first post: a certain kind of spirit that the film captures.

What a good action movie does–and the majority are not good–is show a great character pursuing something epicly important despite epicly difficult obstacles. I can pretty much (pretty much) guarantee you that the concretes will be different from those of your life, but the general form is universal. Life consists of the pursuit of things you consider important, often in the face of obstacles. 

In Iron Man, we watch Tony Stark transform from amoral, consequenceless playboy to righteously driven armored hero fighting evil. The great joy of his character is that Stark does all this with panache and mischievous joy. Even while righting wrongs, Stark still feels like a guy who designed a really, really cool fast car. 

To watch Iron Man is to spend two hours living in that mix of determination and joy. The mix is what makes Stark so effective in his pursuit, and it’s something that you can aspire to in your own life. Watching the film, my mind kept flashing to my job at JetBlue, my blog, my general building of a life, of living my life with Stark’s approach. Good action films are a soul recharge of the purest form.

I have optimism about this summer’s crop of flicks. Coming up over the next few months are the next Chronicles of Narnia, the next Batman film, a new Will Smith action/comedy/drama, and–of course–the new Indiana Jones. If even one or two more films excites me like Iron Man, I will be a very happy man.

For more: See the damned film.

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an abandoned railyard in the Newport section of Jersey City. The railyard had a quick PATH train to Manhattan and an amazing view of the city. LeFrak’s reaction: yknow, I think a city should go there.

Fourteen years later, the same area looked like this:

LeFrak’s city now contains residences, office space, restaurants, supermarkets, and a mall with movie theater. You could literally live there without ever leaving. 

In order to make his dream happen, LeFrak faced the challenges of city politics, creating security in a high crime city, and the immense difficulties and coordination of building a project on this scale. Quite a feat.

Read on for the story:

http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m3601/is_n4_v44/ai_19953443

Essentially, any task you try to accomplish is a problem to be solved, with specific requirements for a right answer. However, those requirements are often broad enough that many solutions will fit the bill. According to DeWitt, creativity comes from not stopping at the first but rather moving on to the next and the next.

DeWitt gave several examples; all, naturally, involved photographs he’s taken. The most powerful involved a photo shoot for an ad campaign for Dewar’s, which wanted him to take a shot of salmon fishing on Scotland’s River Tweed. What DeWitt found on arrival was a flat, stagnant, disappointing body of water in a swamp. DeWitt spotted two fishermen standing around and snapped a photo. 

Problem solved. Just not particularly well.

So DeWitt pushed on. He came closer and saw that the fishermen were working in formal suits complete with vests. He snapped a photo–another right answer. 

DeWitt finally approached the fishermen to talk about salmon fishing. They told him of the proud formality of the practice–hence the suits. They told him also of the thick mist that had been present early that morning. DeWitt’s mind lit up.  

The next morning, DeWitt came before dawn. He snapped the same photo of the fishermen, except now there was a great mist behind them. Suddenly, DeWitt realized that the sun was about to come up, and he moved himself into place to get this photo, ultimately the one used in the campaign:

Pretty nice, huh? 

This is still the same essential shot as DeWitt’s first one–salmon fishermen on the River Tweed. But as DeWitt kept working at the next right answer, the shot kept getting more interesting, more creatively satisfying. Until eventually he found a shot that was pretty damned right.

For more: http://www.dewittjones.com/html/everyday.shtml

Probably the most commonly referenced adventure story is David and Goliath. If David was a kid with a rock, JetBlue was a kid with a paper airplane. Its Goliaths had names like Delta, TWA, and American–airlines that had built credibility over half a century and flew continuous flights out of just about every city imaginable. They could fly the biggest planes in the world and offer expensive hot meals, which JetBlue could not.

Neeleman’s initial plan would buy the airline an initial period of stability. JetBlue still needed to make a product strong enough that customers would choose them over the competition and to do that with the slimmest of margins. Forget gourmet meals’ JetBlue could hardly offer blankets. 

But JetBlue had a secret weapon: they had common sense.   

The thing about getting big is that you can also get complacent. The airlines had settled into a bloat of costs and a prescribed way of doing things. Further–and most importantly–service had diminished as the airlines’ hunger died. 

In the year before JetBlue’s launch, Neeleman and his new team of executives hunkered down to design the new airline. They had two maxims: 

1. The focus was on service to passengers. The stated goal was to bring humanity back to air travel.

2. They would employ what they termed “the radical application of common sense.” They would question every aspect of the airline experience, always with the goal of reaching better, simple solutions.

A few examples of this approach: 

1. It was common wisdom that LaGuardia was the best airport on Long Island, since it was closest to Manhattan. JetBlue chose to use JFK as their hub instead. Since all the airlines were in LaGuardia, JFK was basically empty, meaning that there was less delay-causing traffic on the runways. JFK was a full five miles further from Manhattan. However, the real hurdle for Manhattanites was in leaving Manhattan. After that, the five miles really didn’t mean much. Plus, JFK was actually closer for the 6 million people that lived on Long Island.

2. Though leather was nicer and ritzier, airlines used cloth on their seats, since it was cheaper. However, JetBlue decided to use leather, realizing that you would actually save money on cleaning costs. Spills soak into cloth but wipe right off leather. 

3. Airlines offered either full meals on their flights or a simple, cheap snack like peanuts. JetBlue couldn’t afford to offer full meals, but they could offer choice. JetBlue decided to offer a large range of snacks. The price and complexity of service was roughly the same as peanuts, but the effect was a feeling of bounty and quality.

4. Airlines’ in-flight entertainment was to run movies that were either projected onto one main screen or shown on a few small televisions evenly spaced through-out the cabin. While the movies were a nice distraction, the quality of the experience was necessarily poor due to discomfort and poor, distant image. JetBlue took a look instead at a new product–LiveTV’s service of putting live television on the back of seats. The experience was far more enjoyable but not expensive enough to significantly affect cost. 

I feel like a shill for my company in saying this, but the result was that when JetBlue launched, it actually had the better product. Nine years later, JetBlue is one of the only profitable airlines, and it continues to grow quickly. Last month it became the number one airline flying out of Boston, replacing Delta.

Being the underdog doesn’t actually have to hurt you. Size often means bloat and complacency. The joy of a start-up is that everything is a problem to be solved anew where everyone else has already agreed long ago on the proper solution.

Goliath can be as mighty as he wants. David can still be smarter.

jetBlue entered an industry littered with bodies.

From 1938 to 1978, the airline industry was ruled by the Civil Aeronautics Board (CAB), a government bureaucracy that approved all new routes and had the power to set fares. The CAB’s decline and eventual closure by the Airline Deregulation Act of 1978 unleashed a flood of productivity, as many start-ups tried to get in on the game.

One problem. Succeeding in the airline industry is hard.

Between 1978 and 2001, nine major carriers and over 100 smaller airlines went bankrupt or were liquidated–including most of the dozens of new airlines founded post-deregulation [click here]. Into the mix came David Neeleman, formerly an executive for Southwest Airlines. Neeleman had been kicked out of Southwest Airlines for being tactlessly argumentative [see Blue Streak]. He wanted to start up his own airline but had to wait five years for his Southwest non-compete clause to expire. 

So what do you do when it seems like everyone that’s come before you has failed? You learn from their mistakes.

What becomes clear in Blue Streak is the amount of reflection that went into creating jetBlue. Neeleman’s favorite activity in those five years seems to have been trying to understand why the start-ups failed. Start-ups tended to begin with around $10 million. What that bought was a few small planes from obscure foreign airlines, staff, and basic operating costs. The strategy was to fly to a few locations with little advertising, figuring that the rock-bottom fares you’d charge would generate a windfall of free advertising once word got out.

Neeleman saw a recurrent and inevitable pattern of problems. Fixed costs were higher because the start-up wasn’t big enough to negotiate cheap airport leases or lower prices on gas or insurance. The old airplanes would break down frequently, giving the company a reputation as unreliable. The new airline’s only real competitive advantage was pricing, but the major airlines would temporarily lower their prices to wipe out that advantage. 

The solution? Start big. Neeleman created a plan that would address the start-ups’ problems by allowing it to negotiate lower fixed costs, buy new airplanes, and run a healthy number of flights out of the gate. The only problem? Instead of $10 million, this plan would cost $130 million. Raising that money posed its own challenges, but–if jetBlue’s success is any indication–it was the right move.

There’s much more to the story here that I’d love to tell. The one part in particular that I really want to explore is how Neeleman and company came up with the particular innovations that make jetBlue jetBlue. In the meantime, I recommend Barbara Peterson’s “Blue Streak.”

jetBlue’s creation is a classic example of seemingly impossible odds. I think that the two most common actions people would take in the circumstances are either to give up or to plunge on and hope. But there’s a third option, which Neeleman clearly did. 

The third option is to learn.