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Rice and Chips
Technopreneurship and Innovation in Asia
By Dennis Posadas
Published in 2007 by Prentice Hall
Pearson Education South Asia Pte Ltd
23/25 First Lok Yang Road, Jurong
Singapore 629733
If you were a Martian
venture capitalist tasked with setting up a new office somewhere on
the Asia side of planet Earth, you could learn something from Rice
and Chips, Dennis Posadas’ new book on the state of
play for VC-style technology development in Asia Pacific.
If you were an Asia
Pacific technology company founder, you might find one or two parts
of the book useful. However, not everyone would find net value,
disinterested analysts for example. There is a lot to find fault with
in this book.
What Posadas does well
is lay out the mainstream – and by mainstream I mean venture
capital mainstream – view of things and cheerlead accordingly.
He lets you know who is doing what and where the “hot”
equity and government money is currently placed on the roulette
wheel. He goes down the list of names of many of Asia’s key
universities, research institutes, science parks and successful tech
companies. He also presents a series of “Silicon Valley Rules”
in little boxes that point to what a transplanted technology
development culture could look like in Asia.
His analysis however
favors glib over serious. In a discussion of why Silicon Valley
“beat” Boston’s Route 128 in the technology war,
Posadas repeats the VC lines about California’s small tech
shops being beautiful and fleet while he characterizes the
Massachusetts companies as big, lumbering and “Cold War”
in their mentality and orientation.
Sociologists, legal
scholars and economists point to a very different cluster of causes
for the differentiations that took place, a key one being State of
California right to work laws trumping the Commonwealth of
Massachusetts’ hard enforcement of non-compete clauses in
employment contracts. The point being that California people who are
free to mix are also free to form new companies on the basis of what
they have just learned from their old companies. Boston people
looking at crippling legal costs and the prospect of personal
bankruptcy, don’t run out and start new ventures. They tend to
rein in their creativity accordingly and go find another job instead.
Academics point to
other contributing factors including initial low input costs
(remember the days of cheap rentals in California?), investment risk
transfer opportunities (think of NASDAQ all dolled up and looking
like Macau’s biggest casino) and macro-economic high liquidity
periods at crucial junctures – lucky timing in short.
If the scholars are
right, then the facile VC success stories all miss the mark. It’s
not about how smart the VCs are. It’s about time, circumstance
and the basic market and legal framework.
That the VCs might have
gotten it wrong would not be surprising. Much published analysis
suffers from bias, i.e., a business magazine surveys 100 successful
executives and finds that 87 percent of them get to work early, so
the magazine concludes that getting to work early contributes to
success.
But of course missing
data might well show that 90 percent of failed executives get to the
office early too.
This matters — if
Posadas is right, then the Singapore government’s decision to
make the lion city a biotechnology hub might well succeed and Hong
Kong’s Cyberport and new science park might work too. If he’s
wrong, then mercantilist interventions, no matter how well executed,
are likely to fail.
If he’s wrong,
the best things Asian governments can do to incite innovation are to
improve general education and ensure freedoms under the law, for
instance freedom of association, work choice, expression and
movement, like California did.
Then there is the
implicit question of vested interests. Angels, VCs, investment
bankers, headhunters, lawyers and new-venture accountants —
these folks form and reform loose clubs whose mission statements
might read something like:
Our goal is to push the financial risk inherent in this tech
company idea all the way from the angels to the investors in the VC
funds to the public markets while at each stage creaming off bits of
cash for ourselves.
Granted, alternatives
involve anarchy risk. But economies like Taiwan have done very well
out of loosely managed anarchy over the last half century or so.
Why dump what works and
instead recommend the wholesale importation of your Western
neighbors’ foibles?
Posadas argues, for
example, in favor of strong intellectual property law as it exists
in America.
The granting of method
patents on software is a highly contentious issue. Many critics argue
that large companies (one set of vested interests) use ownership of
often spurious method patents in cross licensing deals with other
large companies, the net effects of which deals are the stifling of
innovation and the locking out of smaller companies.
There is a strong
movement to unwind all software patents in America right now but VCs
resist. They love patents because patents feel like assets.
But the truth is
squishier. Software patents are hard to get and harder to defend.
Some of the time they constitute a bit of pre-funding show, a way for
Silicon Valley technology companies to attract the next round of
investment, knowing that the patents would likely prove indefensible
in the long run.
The point being that
the attempt by Asian governments and vested interests to mimic
California’s technology success may not make any sense. What
used to work in California may never work again in California, or
anywhere else.
These are serious
issues, but Rice and Chips does not deal with real
issues; it assumes the conventional VC answers and tells you how to
understand and implement them in Asia.
The book is not a
policy guide that’s likely to prove useful over time.
But still, the book is
a fun read and a good primer on certain Asian technology and
innovation issues. If you’re curious about VC-style technology
funding in Asia from the perspective of the VCs, Rice and Chips
is worth a look.
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