Life Notes #81: Singapore Vacation

We had not taken a family vacation for 4 years. With Abhishek in the US, summers were at home and winters were too short to go anywhere. This time around, we finally decided to take one – so Singapore. I had to go to Bali for GAMS and we then converged on Singapore. I had plenty of Marriott Bonvoy points accumulated to cover part of the stay at the Orchard Road Marriott (Tang Plaza) – we couldn’t have asked for a better location.

After New York, Singapore is our favourite vacation destination. We like the big cities – they have something for all of us. And in both New York and Singapore, Jain food is not a problem. Of the numerous options, we zeroed in on Balaji Bhawan, right across from Mustafa. They had plenty of options and just the right taste to suit all of us.

This time, we skipped the Sentosa attractions. We walked around Orchard Road, did Bugis Street, Holland Village, Mustafa, IMM Outlets (got a great price on new ASICS shoes), and Chinatown.

Kinokuniya was once again a favourite, as it has been. Its collection is unparalleled, and in each of my three visits, I found interesting books which I had not come across. While Kitab Khana is the Mumbai equivalent, the scale of Kinokuniya is absolutely amazing.

Abhishek and I also did what we used to do when he was a kid: take a long bus ride to a random destination. One of the mornings, we did just that for a couple of hours, and went across Singapore in perhaps the best possible way: the upper deck of a bus! What struck me was how little the ritual needed to change. The boy who once needed lifting to see over the rail is now studying in New York, and yet there we were, two hours of no particular destination, watching a city go by. Some of the best things one does with children do not have to be outgrown – they just have to be repeated.

Singapore’s taxi drivers always provide interesting stories. One of them told us about the construction that’s underway to connect the North and South. (Mumbai too is seeing its fair share of construction in the past decade with the Coastal Road, Metro, and more. We had stagnated for far too long.) Cities need to reinvent themselves and Singapore has done it very well through the years, since the first time I stepped there in May 1992 on my return to India after my four years in the US.

Overall, it was a good short break, and left me longing for more. When I am with Bhavana and Abhishek, I am a bit keyed up to ensure everything goes right for them – which is perhaps its own kind of holiday.

Thinks 2087

WSJ: “Should AI become far cheaper to deploy, the so-called Jevons paradox, named after a 19th-century economist, would likely take hold. That would mean people respond to lower costs simply by using the technology more, eating up just as much if not more computing power. That is one reason chip companies have largely welcomed open-weight models.”

Ajay Shah: “The transition away from some price controls was a milestone in Indian economic history. It was achieved by looking past narrow desires in price control, and understanding the consequences of price controls for Indian economic growth. The management of the dollar/rupee exchange rate requires the same maturity. The costs encompass fiscal burdens, inflation volatility, stunted financial markets, systemic risk, and degraded state capability. Exchange-rate policy is not a narrow concern of monetary-policy strategy. It is a fundamental choice about the broader economic-growth strategy. India requires a modern financial system, a capable state with high accountability, and a private sector focused on innovation rather than government arbitrage. The path to Indian economic success begins with a full reckoning of the costs of exchange-rate management.”

Technology Review: “Transformers are starting to show their age. Many of the recent advances in LLMs, such as the development of so-called reasoning models and their ability to handle large amounts of input at once, are not neat extensions of that core technology but workarounds that patch over some of its fundamental flaws. A growing number of scientists and engineers are now asking what’s coming next. LLMs are not going anywhere, but the way they get built is up for grabs.”

WSJ: “Something inherent in the human psyche still pushes us fiercely toward the rabbit warrens of outlier theories. Mythmaking is still a large part of how people understand the world, even if they now apply it to suspicions about the powerful institutions and advanced systems they no longer trust…A well-read person grows body armor against the rigid conspiracy theorist, against flat artificial intelligence that manipulates without emotion. It is no coincidence that humanity shot forward when Gutenberg invented his printing press. Books are super fuel for the human mind, the mightiest intellect on earth. And right now, that intellect needs all the collective nutrition it can find.”

Life Notes #80: Benne

Until recently, I had never eaten (or even heard of) a Benne dosa. And then “Benne – Heritage Bangalore Dosa” opened its outlet at Sukh Sagar (in Mumbai) a few months ago. And what an experience it was! The entire process – ordering on a screen, self pick-up, standing and eating, and all done in under 30 minutes at under Rs 200 a person.

While I have been eating dosas for as long as I can remember (both in restaurants and at home), the Benne dosa was so very different. The restaurant’s own site asks what actually makes a dosa memorable – the butter, the crunch, the masala, the chutney, the hands that serve it – and settles on the idea that it is all of these at once. As Wikipedia explains, the benne dose is a Davanagere speciality made by working butter into a batter of parboiled rice, black gram and puffed rice, cooked traditionally on a wood-fired griddle, and served with still more butter and coconut chutney. It is smaller and softer than the dosa most of us grew up with.

I then did some more research. The dish has a history longer than the chain that brought it to me. It traces back to 1928 in Davanagere, where a woman named Chennamma began selling dosas at a street-side stall near a drama theatre. From there it travelled to Bangalore, where institutions built their reputations on it – Central Tiffin Room in Malleshwaram has been serving benne masala dosas since the 1920s, and Vidyarthi Bhavan in Gandhi Bazaar since 1943. What is new is not the dosa but its reach: a regional dish from central Karnataka is now something Mumbaikars queue up for on a Sunday morning. India’s food map is being redrawn by people willing to carry a hyper-local speciality a thousand kilometres and bet that others will love it too.

The other aspect of the experience is how the restaurant chain has turned the eating experience on its head. Self-order and self-pickup. Almost like a QSR. And the stand-and-eat helps them process a lot more customers (and presumably, keep the prices low).

Though this, too, is less an invention than an import. Bangalore’s darshinis – self-service vegetarian fast-food counters – emerged in the early 1980s, more than a decade before McDonald’s came to India, and worked out the same economics from first principles: no waiters, no table service, a small footprint, and customers who eat standing and leave. What Benne has done is take that format, give it a design language and a brand, and put it in a city that pays for the high rents! The founders, Akhil Iyer and Shriya Narayan, came from outside the restaurant business entirely – he a producer, she a psychologist – which may be exactly why they saw the opportunity. The constraint is the strategy: a tiny space with high turns can charge Rs 200 and still work.

I have already gone back twice after the first experience and expect to do so many times more!

Thinks 2086

NYTimes: “India’s working-age population, already the world’s largest at nearly one billion, grows by about 12 million people a year. For families with money to spare, education is one of the few apparent routes out of low-paid farming and wage labor. The best option is a place at one of the country’s highly competitive public universities. For those who cannot get in, private colleges offer another route. That industry has exploded. The number of private colleges tripled in the decade after Mr. Modi became prime minister in 2014. By 2024, India had 45 million students in higher education, up 41 percent from a decade earlier, according to a government survey. More than two-thirds of all students attend private institutions. But the expansion of higher education has far outpaced the creation of good jobs.”

WSJ: “People who switch employers a lot are often seen as red flags. New evidence suggests they get up to speed much faster than others.”

Manu Joseph: “When a system is rotten, a diligent person endures by digging deep into the quirks of his own personality. Some good things happen in India because some people are eccentric.”

FT: “China is beginning to construct its own self-sustaining, internally reinforcing AI ecosystem — and is increasingly offering it abroad. Beijing’s geopolitical foothold in critical infrastructure is increasing and countries adopting Chinese AI will, over time, absorb Chinese approaches to technical standards and governance principles…The original China shock came with the manufacturing revolution that followed the country’s entry into the World Trade Organization. China shock 2.0 was the cleantech wave of solar panels, batteries and electric vehicles. China shock 3.0 has been the diffusion of Chinese digital technology, from ecommerce to recent AI models. China shock 4.0, now on the horizon, will be quite different. It will be based not only on the export of Chinese technology but on China’s approach to innovation as a national project.”

Life Notes #79: GAMS Bali and Bangkok

In the space of a month, I travelled for two of our customer events: the Global Agentic Marketing Summit in Bali (for our South-East Asian customers) and in Bangkok (for our Indian customers). The name has changed over the years — from Hashout to MGS (Martech Global Summit) to GAMS. [See Life Notes #66: MGS Colombo and Life Notes #21: MarTech Global Summit.]

The names themselves tell the story of our industry. Hashout was about email and engagement. MGS was about the whole martech stack, and about going global. GAMS is about agents doing the work that marketers until recently did by hand. Three names in a few years is not restlessness about branding — it is the rate at which the ground under marketing is moving. I am curious what we will be calling it two summits from now.

I like these events because of the interaction with customers (and prospects) in a relaxed setting, and the opportunity they give me to share my thinking on martech on the opening day. I typically start working on my deck a few weeks in advance, bringing together the latest thinking from my blog essays and showcasing the new product thinking at Netcore. This time, I tried a new approach to the presentation: instead of the standard PPT, I decided to do HTML. Over the past few months, I have moved away from the static deck to one that’s more interactive. I can click and show within a slide, and it’s so much easier to make and edit with Claude.

The intimate nature of these events is great for relationship building. I did 9 1:1 meetings in Bangkok, which helped me understand the marketer’s lens much better. This is a time of change as AI and agents transform CRM and retention marketing. The drudgery of marketing is being replaced by a new excitement — the ability to build deeper and better relationships which can deliver profitable growth and eliminate the AdWaste caused by reacquisition.

The other aspect of these events that I like is the travel. Of late, my US visits have gone down (in fact, none for the past 2 years), so the long flights which I relish for deep thinking and reading have not been happening. Bali was an overnight flight to Singapore, and then a 2.5-hour flight onwards. (The return was via Singapore for a brief vacation with family.) For Bangkok, I chose the afternoon flight so I got 4+ hours of contiguous time to think, read, and write.

Both summits ended with the same thing: people lingering. Long after the last session — in the lobby, at dinner, at the breakfast table the next morning — marketers who could have got the whole deck by email were still there, talking. We spent two days discussing how agents will handle the millions of conversations a brand has with its customers. And then we proved, without meaning to, that the conversations which matter most are still the ones you have in person.

Thinks 2085

NYTimes: “Wars are a crucible that very often exposes changes in the physics of the world around us — who has power, who doesn’t have power and how power is being wielded. Nothing better captures the new power equation produced by this war than Trump’s unhinged and obscene rant at the Iranian leadership for not bending to his bombs. This new physics of war is equally present in the conflicts between Ukraine and Russia, Hezbollah and Israel, Hamas and Israel and the Houthis and everyone else. My summary of this new dynamic is that the small can now act really big, really accurately and really inexpensively. And while the big can also act really small, really accurately, it is far more expensive for them to do that while bearing the burden of vast legacy arms systems. The net advantage, for the moment, seems to be to the small.”

SaaStr: “If I were running CS at a B2B company right now, I’d stop treating usage as the primary signal and start asking a different set of questions about every account. How many jobs do we do for this customer? An account that uses you for one narrow workflow is more exposed than an account with lower total usage across five workflows, whatever the seat count says. Single-job accounts get absorbed first. Is this customer building? If your champion is spending their week in Replit, Claude, or Lovable, they are one conversation away from an agent offering to do your job instead. That’s how our sponsor pages, our heat mapping, and our staff meeting all got rebuilt in the last month. Can our data get out and our agents get in? Marketo is deprecating the API we needed and we’d have blown through the rate limits in an hour, which made them unusable for us regardless of features. Agent-hostile architecture is a churn cause on its own now.”

Mint: “As AI gets embedded in the operating fabric of organizations, acquiring a competitive advantage will depend less on building systems than on deciding which systems must be built. Companies that consistently discard weak assumptions before they become expensive commitments are likely to fare better, as would those that reward sceptics who ask inconvenient questions as readily as they reward engineers who deliver working models. While understanding grows abundant, judgement is becoming scarce. This is the reality businesses must confront.”

FT: “K-Pop fans, meme pages, political theorists and occultists devote themselves to creating the world they would like to see. This begins with an understanding of how ideas now spread. Our music, language, aesthetics and politics all emerge from amorphous pockets of algorithmic space — and they can all be manipulated.”

Life Notes #78: Vande Bharat

I recently had the opportunity to take the Ahmedabad–Jodhpur Vande Bharat from its starting point at Sabarmati to Falna. A distance of 280 kms, covered in 200 minutes. I have taken the Vande Bharat in the past between Mumbai and Surat/Ahmedabad, so this was not a new experience. But I am still enthralled by breezing through the Indian countryside at a speed almost 50% faster than other trains or the road. The ride to Falna was excellent: good food, spacious and non-smelly toilets, well-lit compartments, and absolutely punctual.

When I was young, we used to go to Rajasthan very often. My father had a marble factory in Abu Road, so there was a mandatory visit at least once a year. At that time, we would take the overnight train from Mumbai to Ahmedabad on broad gauge, and then a metre-gauge train from Ahmedabad to Abu Road (either the Delhi Mail or the Ranakpur Express, if my memory serves me right). Including the transfer at Ahmedabad, the journey would take about 14 hours for 700 kilometres. What the Vande Bharat now covers in a single morning once took the better part of a day and a night – distance, in those years, was measured in nights rather than in minutes. Ahmedabad junction was a bustling interchange – so many platforms, so many trains coming and going.

This time, I got down at Abu Road (en route to Falna) and spent a few minutes on the platform. So many memories came flooding by. The platform itself seemed to be the same, and yet it all seemed so different. I remember we used to walk from our factory to the station daily to buy the English newspaper. And then sometimes I would just sit on the platform and watch the trains come and go.

The open train windows have now been replaced by glass. The train speed ensures the outside whizzes past in a blur. The small private compartment (“first class”) has been replaced with a noisy space shared with 77 other people. Mobiles ringing (or singing with music), babies crying, the passageway busy with the constant flow of train staff serving food – at times, it was all too distracting. The train journeys I remember and perhaps long for had a quiet charm to them of an older India that has now moved on to modernity. Now, like life itself, it’s all about “business” and speed, and getting from Point A to B, without the time, , as W.H. Davies put it, to “stand and stare.” And yet the nostalgia, I know, is mine alone. Somewhere in that compartment was a child for whom a train is exactly this – sealed, swift, food served at the seat – and who, thirty years from now, will perhaps miss it as much as I miss the metre gauge.

Also see: Life Notes #68: A Retro Train Ride

Thinks 2084

NYTimes: “Whether a productivity boom ends well depends on whether government holds society together while it happens, sustaining a sense of fairness and shared destiny. When wealth concentrates and disaffection spreads, booms end badly. Look no further than the rise of Communism and fascism after the Industrial Revolution, or the populist backlash to globalization we are living through now. Much is unknown about exactly how A.I. disruption will play out. But the potential is huge. Our internal Bridgewater analysis suggests that 18 percent of current American jobs could be displaced by A.I. in the next five years. And even though some new jobs will be created — particularly those where human relationships are integral to the value of the work, like nursing or hospitality — disruption from the societal transition is extremely likely regardless. Governments must act before the inevitable backlash fully arrives at this A.I.-driven labor displacement, not after.”

FT and Standard Chartered Business Book of the Year Award 2026 — the longlist: “The longlist for 2026, the 22nd edition of the prestigious award, is again rich with explorations of the transformative impact of technology, and its 15 titles fit into three broad groups: business and power, business and innovation, and business and society.”

Crunchbase: “Ryan Ziegler, general partner at Edison Partners, told Crunchbase News via email that while funding in physical AI has historically been concentrated in robotics and humanoids, defense, and foundational models, he sees the opportunity as much broader. Physical AI, in his view, represents the convergence of software, hardware, sensors and IoT, and services across a wide variety of real-world applications. What is changing, according to Ziegler, is AI’s ability to process data from those systems at such a scale and speed to generate useful operational insights, while the underlying hardware becomes cheaper and more accessible. “Even our mobile phones now have LIDAR scanners on them,” he noted, “democratizing the ability to map objects and spaces.””

NYTimes: “Chatbots are pushing us toward a post-human Internet..In matters of work, school and even romance, we turn to A.I. chatbots. But what happens when the bots begin talking to one another?”

The Two Taxes Nobody Argues About

Published September 15, 2026

Two large and rapidly growing sources of avoidable cost — and the three places the loop can be cut

Part I: The Tax

1 

The double payment

Companies have learnt to negotiate the price of almost everything. Media rates, software licences, agency retainers, implementation fees, freight, headcount — each has an owner, a benchmark and somebody measured on bringing it down. Yet two large and rapidly growing sources of avoidable cost pass through most organisations every year with remarkably little argument.

The first is what a company pays to reach customers it already has. The second is what it pays to rebuild software foundations it has already bought. Both are entirely visible. Neither is usually seen for what it is, and in most organisations neither has been put in front of a board as a number.

The pattern underneath both sounds implausible when stated plainly. Companies repeatedly pay for value they have already created. They acquire a customer, earn an identity, accumulate a history and establish permission to make contact — then, when attention weakens, pay an outside platform to put the same person back in view. They buy software application by application, each arriving with its own copy of the same foundations — then pay to integrate the copies and hire people to keep them aligned.

The two payments look nothing alike. One sits in marketing and is priced by auction; the other sits in technology and is priced by licence. Economically they are the same act: paying a second time for an asset that should have compounded after the first payment. A customer relationship ought to become more valuable with every interaction. Software machinery ought to make the next capability cheaper to produce. Instead both are repurchased.

The word tax is used here in its economic sense rather than its statutory one: a recurring toll that rises with the level of business activity, is treated as unavoidable, and is rarely examined as a category. Nothing in the argument depends on the word. What matters is that both payments behave that way, and that neither has a name. The Reacquisition Tax is what a business pays to reach people it already knows. The App-Stack Tax is what it pays to rebuild foundations it has already funded.

Figure 1. Two payments leaving the business for assets it already holds.

2 

Paying to reach people you already know

The mechanism is so ordinary that it takes an effort to see at all.

A customer bought something eighteen months ago. Their address, their order history and, in most cases, a valid permission to contact them are all in the database. At some point they stopped opening what the company sent, and the company — noticing the gap in revenue rather than the gap in attention — buys them back through a platform which holds the same address the company already has, at a price set by an auction the company also pays to enter.

The precision that matters here is easy to lose, and losing it is exactly how the tax stays invisible. The business has not lost the customer’s identity. It has lost their attention. Those are different failures with different remedies and different costs, and treating the second as though it were the first is what turns a relationship problem into a media budget. The identity was never lost. The attention was — and the tax is what a company pays somebody else to supply the attention it stopped earning.

Platforms are exceptionally good at finding intent, and that competence is what makes the tax feel like ordinary growth. The platform can tell when somebody is browsing, comparing or returning to the category, and it reports the resulting conversion with confidence. The dashboard shows a new customer acquired at an acceptable cost. The dashboard is not wrong; it is answering a narrower question than the one that matters. The same person can be labelled new by the channel and known by the company at the same moment. The channel takes the credit and the profit and loss statement absorbs the duplication.

This is not an argument that paid acquisition is waste. A business with no prior relationship to a buyer has to pay somebody to create one, and that money is well spent. The avoidable portion is narrower: the part of the acquisition budget landing on people already in the customer file, still contactable, and reachable at a marginal delivery cost close to nothing — if only they were still paying attention.

Two honest caveats. Being present in a database is not the same as being contactable: permissions lapse, addresses decay and deliverability is earned rather than assumed. And low marginal delivery cost is not zero cost — the message still has to be worth opening, which takes data, judgement and people. The claim is not that owned contact is free. It is that it is an order of magnitude cheaper than renting the same person back, and that the gap is rarely calculated.

3 

Paying for the same foundations eight times

A mid-sized consumer business runs somewhere between eight and twenty applications to serve its customers. Each of them, underneath the part that makes it distinctive, contains the same things: a model of the customer, a model of the product, a record of orders, a consent state, a workflow engine, a reporting layer.

Every one of those foundations was built by the vendor, and every one is charged for. The buyer pays for the same substructure once per supplier, and uses only the thin layer on top where the suppliers differ from each other.

The subscriptions are the visible part and, in most companies, the smallest. The true bill is eight subscriptions, plus the integrations between them, plus the work of deciding which system is right when two disagree, plus the people employed to hold the arrangement together. The last of these is often the largest and is the least likely to appear in any assessment of what the software costs, because it is filed under headcount rather than under software.

The largest consequence may not be the bill at all. It is the loss of organisational speed. A simple change becomes a cross-application project. A new workflow waits on three internal teams and four suppliers. A question about a single customer produces five answers, and somebody has to decide which one the business will act on. The stack delivers a great many capabilities while steadily reducing the company’s ability to behave as one system — and that cost appears on no invoice at all.

The same qualification applies as before, and it needs to be operational rather than gestural, because otherwise this reads as an argument against buying the best available tool — which it is not. Two questions, applied to any application at renewal.

—  Does it contribute a distinctive capability the business could not otherwise obtain?

—  What share of its cost is that capability, as against rebuilding identity, catalogue, workflow, permissions and reporting underneath it?

An application that passes the first is specialised software and worth its price. An application that fails the second is mostly a copy of foundations already funded, sold at the price of the feature on top. The App-Stack Tax is the second category. Nothing here argues against the first.

4 

Visible as cost, invisible as waste

Neither tax is hidden. Both are entirely present on the profit and loss statement, in categories any finance function can read: acquisition cost, marketplace commission, software subscriptions, implementation, integration, operations headcount. Anybody can see the money. What nobody can see is that a portion of it did not need to be spent.

Figure 2. The taxes are not concealed. They are distributed across categories that each look reasonable in isolation, and each of which already has a sponsor.

The finance function is well equipped to ask whether a cost is too high. It has no instrument for asking whether a cost needed to exist. Those are different questions, and only the first has a procedure attached to it. A 12 per cent reduction in the acquisition budget is a negotiation anybody knows how to run. A question about which share of that budget is buying back people the company already knew has no owner, no method and no meeting.

So the position is this. Both taxes are visible as cost and invisible as waste. No budget line is called money we did not need to spend. Nobody’s objective includes reducing it. No supplier has any interest in pointing it out, since both taxes are somebody’s revenue. And because the total is distributed across half a dozen categories that each look defensible on their own, no single review has ever seen the whole of it in one place.

There is an organisational version of the same asymmetry, and it is the more stubborn of the two. The media team is accountable for the return on the next campaign, not for whether that campaign reached people the business should still have been able to reach itself. The application owner is accountable for whether the tool works, not for whether seven other tools already contain its foundations. Every participant can be locally correct while the company is globally wasteful — and because every participant is locally correct, every participant can defend their position without lying, which is why these conversations never resolve.

There is a third reason, and it is the least comfortable of the three. Removing either tax reduces somebody’s budget, vendor estate or organisational standing before it improves the company’s profit. The saving arrives later and lands on the profit and loss statement; the loss arrives immediately and lands on a person. That asymmetry is enough to keep a well-run business paying both taxes indefinitely, and no amount of analysis dissolves it.

Challenging either tax therefore requires something no review is designed to do: change the unit of analysis. Stop asking whether this campaign performed or this application delivered its features, and ask whether the payment needed to exist.

Figure 3. Both questions are reasonable. Only one of them has an owner, a method and a place on an agenda.

Companies scrutinise what has been named. That is the entire argument for naming these.

Key points

—  Both taxes are the same act: paying a second time for an asset that should have compounded.

—  The identity was never lost. The attention was.

—  The software bill is the visible edge; the larger costs are headcount and lost speed.

—  Both are visible as cost and invisible as waste, and every participant is locally correct.

—  Removing either tax costs somebody their budget before it improves anybody’s profit.

Part II: The Loop

5

Both were rational when they started

It would be convenient to treat all of this as negligence. It is not, and an essay that says so will be admired and not forwarded. Both taxes began as sensible answers to real constraints, and neither was a failure of attention at the time it was incurred.

The decision The constraint that made it right What changed
Buy the audience A customer who had stopped opening was, in practice, unreachable. Nothing in the owned channel could win the attention back, so the attention had to be rented from whoever had assembled it. The owned surface became capable of earning attention again, and the effect of an intervention became measurable against a control rather than asserted.
Buy the eighth application Eight jobs needed doing and nobody sold a ninth thing that did all of them. Assembling a stack was not a preference; it was the only route to the work getting done at all. Producing software stopped being the expensive part, which makes a single system covering several jobs buildable at a price a small business can pay.

Table 1. Both taxes were rational responses to constraints that no longer hold.

That is a different accusation from carelessness, and considerably easier to act on, because it asks nothing of anybody’s judgement in 2019. It only asks whether the constraint still holds. A cost becomes waste when the alternative changes. The old decision does not become irrational in retrospect; the environment moves around it. Which is also why both taxes have grown rather than shrunk — a decision that was correct when taken is rarely reopened, and rising costs inside it are read as inflation rather than as evidence.

6 

How the two taxes feed each other

Each tax is self-reinforcing on its own. Weaker owned attention deepens dependence on platforms, which leaves less reason to invest in the owned channel, which weakens the attention further. More applications create more integration and more reconciliation, which consumes the capacity that might have gone into consolidating them.

The more interesting relationship is the one between them, and it is the reason these belong in one argument rather than two.

Figure 4. The connection runs in both directions, and the second direction is the one that keeps the loop closed.

Read clockwise from the top left. Foundations built separately in each system mean there is no single record of the customer. Without a single record, targeting on owned channels is weak — the business knows what somebody bought in one system and what they browsed in another and cannot reliably join the two. Weak targeting on owned channels is precisely why reach gets rented from platforms which, having observed the same person across thousands of contexts, know more about them than the brand whose product they bought.

That much is familiar. The step that closes the loop is the one at the bottom left, and it is worth sitting with. A company with a large reacquisition budget has, in effect, purchased a way of not fixing its foundations. Reach can be bought. Attention can be bought. So the incomplete customer record never becomes urgent, the consolidation project never reaches the top of the list, and the money that would have paid for it is already committed to the auction.

Stated as an accounting relationship rather than a diagram: the Reacquisition Tax subsidises the App-Stack Tax, and the App-Stack Tax manufactures more Reacquisition Tax. The business pays platforms because its software cannot assemble the customer truth it already possesses, and postpones fixing the software because platforms can always be paid to find the customer again.

They are not two parallel problems that happen to appear in the same business. They are one problem arriving as two invoices.

Key points

—  A cost becomes waste when the alternative changes. The environment moves around the old decision.

—  Fragmented foundations produce an incomplete record, which is why owned targeting is weak.

—  A budget large enough to buy reach removes the urgency to earn it — and that closes the loop.

—  One problem, two invoices.

Part III: Three Cuts

7  One loop does not need two programmes

The diagnosis carries an implication that is easy to miss and worth stating on its own. If the two taxes form a single loop, they do not require two transformation programmes. A loop weakens wherever it is broken. So the question facing a business is not how do we fix all of this but which single cut can we make.

One precision, because the loop invites an overstatement worth avoiding. The three cuts do not each solve both taxes. They act at different points and do different work. Measurement drains neither tax; it manufactures the pressure the loop removed. Rebuilding owned attention reduces the Reacquisition Tax directly, and withdraws the subsidy that lets an unfixed stack stay unfixed. Consolidating the foundations reduces the App-Stack Tax directly, and improves the conditions under which owned growth is possible at all. Each cut weakens the loop; none of them is a substitute for the others.

Figure 5. Three places the loop can be broken. Each acts at a different point, and they differ in cost, speed and who has to agree.

The cut What it reduces What it costs When it pays
1  Measure it Neither tax directly. It produces the number that gives the waste an owner and restores the pressure the loop removed. A fortnight of somebody’s time. No system changes. No budget. Immediately, as pressure — which is the missing ingredient.
2  Rebuild owned attention The Reacquisition Tax directly, and it withdraws the subsidy protecting the unfixed stack. Modest, and payable out of the tax it reduces. One to two quarters, measurable against a control.
3  Consolidate the foundations The App-Stack Tax directly, and it improves the conditions for owned growth. Migration effort, now an order of magnitude below what it was. Slowest and most durable. Compounds thereafter.

Table 2. The three cuts, in the order most businesses can take them.

The rest of this essay takes them in turn. The first requires nothing from any supplier, which is deliberate: a diagnosis that can only be acted on by buying something is a diagnosis nobody should trust.

8 

Cut one: measure it

Both taxes can be sized approximately in an afternoon, and the reason this is so rarely done is not difficulty.

The question How to answer it What a bad answer looks like
What share of paid conversions were already known to the business? Take a recent period of paid conversions and match the identities against the customer file as it stood before the paid interaction. Separate people new to the business from previous buyers, subscribers, app users and known prospects. Nobody has run the match. In most companies the figure is not disputed — it has never been produced.
Of those, how many had received a useful owned message in the weeks before? Not another promotion — a message informed by that person’s state, context and prior relationship. This separates paid recovery that was unavoidable from attention that was allowed to decay. The last owned contact was a discount sent to the whole list, and it went out after the paid conversion.
How many systems hold their own version of the customer, the product and the transaction? Count every system that stores or reconstructs identity, catalogue, orders, consent, events or workflow state — including applications that merely keep a local copy. Then count the integrations built to keep them agreeing. The number of integrations exceeds the number of systems, and somebody’s job title exists because of it.

Table 3. Three questions, all answerable from data the business already holds.

None of this will produce an audited number. Identity matching misses some people and overstates others; attribution windows complicate the story. That is acceptable, because the first objective is not precision. It is to find out whether the machine reporting new customers contains a material known-customer component, and whether the business has bought eight applications or eight incomplete versions of itself.

This cut looks like the weakest of the three and is usually the most important, for a reason that comes straight out of the loop. The loop closes at no pressure to fix the foundations. Measurement is the only cut that manufactures the missing pressure — and it is almost never chosen, because nobody is promoted for producing a number that makes their own budget look wasteful. Somebody senior has to ask for it, be willing to receive an uncomfortable answer, and then act on it against the budgets it implicates. Visibility creates pressure. It does not by itself defeat the people who benefit from the arrangement being invisible.

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Cut two: rebuild owned attention

The second cut attacks the point where weak owned targeting hands the customer to a platform. If the owned channel earns a response again, recovery stops requiring an auction — and the reacquisition budget stops subsidising the unfixed stack.

Three things have to change, and they are true whoever supplies them. Email is the natural place to start, being the one channel a business owns outright and the one it has most thoroughly worn out.

First, the message has to be current when it is read rather than when it was sent, assembled from the state of the customer and the catalogue at the moment of opening. An email written on Tuesday and read on Friday is presently a Tuesday email; it does not have to be. Second, the useful action has to be completable inside the message rather than three redirects away from it, because that is where most intent is lost. Third — and most brands have none of this at all — some proportion of contact has to exist to maintain the relationship rather than to sell. A channel used only for selling teaches people not to open it, and that lesson, once learnt, is what the reacquisition budget is later paying to unlearn.

Then accountability, which matters more than any supplier’s method. Whoever does this work should be answerable for a customer state rather than for a volume of campaigns, and the effect should be established against a randomised control group, running concurrently, receiving the brand’s pre-agreed baseline treatment — the existing programme, not nothing at all. A control that receives nothing inflates the apparent result and deserves the resistance it will get from anybody asked to deprive their own customers to prove a supplier’s point. The comparison that means anything is against what the business would otherwise have done.

Most businesses will do this work themselves, on a platform they already own, and carry the result themselves. That is the ordinary case and it remains the right one. A transfer of accountability is for the pools a company’s own operation has not closed, and there are usually two of them: customers who are still engaged but whose valuable action has stalled, and customers who have gone dark and are being re-bought through paid channels. The first is larger than most people expect and resolves in weeks; the second is the one visible in the media budget.

What we have built for this

The doctrine is NeoMarketing, and its first commercial forms are Progency Finish and Progency Recover — a managed mandate over one of those declared pools, with accountability for the state of those customers rather than for the campaigns sent to them.

The commercial arrangement is deliberately awkward for us. A baseline is agreed before anything starts, a randomised control runs alongside on that baseline, and payment is a share of the verified difference. No lift, no payment. A supplier arguing that a brand pays too much to re-buy its own customers should be willing to be paid only when it demonstrably reduces that bill. Otherwise the argument is a different invoice with better rhetoric.

What this does not do:

  • It does not replace paid acquisition. It makes paid the fallback rather than the first reflex.
  • It does not recover everybody. Some customers have left, and the control group is how you find out which.
  • It does not work without that control. A claim of lift with no comparison is a claim about the weather.
  • It does not fix the foundations. It buys the time that fixing them requires.

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Cut three: consolidate the foundations

The third cut attacks the origin of the loop: the same substructure, funded once per supplier. The generic move is to stop paying for foundations by the vendor and start paying for them once — one customer record, one catalogue, one order history, one consent ledger, one workflow engine — with the distinctive part of each application sitting on top of that rather than beside it.

The renewal test from section three is how this becomes actionable without a transformation programme. Applications that contribute distinctive capability stay. Applications whose cost is mostly a private rebuild of shared foundations are candidates for consolidation, and there are usually more of them than anybody expects.

The prize is not a smaller software bill, though that follows. It is the removal of hand-offs that exist only because separate applications were built. Search intent should change the next email. A support issue should suppress a promotion. A declared preference should alter merchandising the same afternoon. A well-integrated stack can be made to do some of this, with friction, delay and a standing maintenance cost; on shared foundations it is not a project at all, because the hand-off has stopped existing.

What we have built for this

The Software Foundry builds products on one shared core. The first covers eight jobs: import customers, consent and suppression; ingest catalogue, orders and events; capture identities through forms and pop-ups; build useful segments; send campaigns reliably; run the six essential lifecycle flows; report revenue and activity simply; and migrate from the incumbent without risk. The promise is four items long — one bill, eight jobs, a tenth of the price, a safe way out — and the price is published, the same page shown to everyone, with usage metered and nothing negotiated.

Roughly a tenth of the incumbent price is possible because producing software is no longer the expensive part, and because the foundations are built once rather than once per product. It is not a discount and not a promotional tier that later rises. It is a thesis we intend to prove rather than a result we are claiming, and the proof is whether the second product reuses enough of the first.

What this does not do:

  • It does not replace the commerce platform. It sits alongside it.
  • It does not do reviews, loyalty, helpdesk or subscriptions, and it has no journey canvas.
  • It does not do custom work. Standardisation is what the price is made of.
  • It is not outcome-priced. Its accountability is that leaving is as easy as arriving.

11  Why the two remedies are one thesis

The two remedies price themselves in opposite directions, and the contrast is not an inconsistency. It is the clearest evidence that both follow from the same shift.

Figure 6. The same shift, read from both ends.

Artificial intelligence is collapsing the cost of producing capability. It is not collapsing the cost of trust, of migration, of judgement, or of accountability for whether a thing worked. The abundant half is getting cheaper and the scarce half is not. When everybody can produce the capability, the position worth holding is being the party willing to be measured on the result.

So software can become dramatically cheaper in the same period that a verified outcome becomes more valuable. One remedy charges a published price that does not move with the customer’s success, because production became cheap. The other charges a share of a verified difference, because accountability did not. A business can take either cut first — or take only the first cut, buy nothing, and still be better off than it was.

What it should not do is keep paying both taxes on the grounds that each individual invoice looks reasonable. They are one problem arriving as two invoices, and the loop closes at the point where the money that would have fixed it has already been committed to the auction. The opportunity is not to automate the existing bills, or to negotiate them down by a further eight per cent. It is to stop paying them for value the business already created — a customer relationship it built once, and foundations it has now funded several times over.

Key points

—  One loop, three cuts. Each acts at a different point; none substitutes for the others.

—  Measurement is the cut that manufactures the pressure the loop removed, and it requires no supplier.

—  Attention work buys the time that fixing the foundations needs; it does not substitute for it.

—  One price rises with verified success; the other refuses to rise. Both follow from the same shift.

Assets should compound, not be repurchased.

Thinks 2083

Thomas Doherty: “Together, the film inventory and the expert commentary created the archival documentary, the motion picture genre that preserves and rewinds our history.”

NYTimes: “The chief minister of Andhra Pradesh has 25,000 workers building his dream capital with waterways, bike lanes and a “Quantum Valley” tech hub…Erecting Amaravati as the new capital city for Andhra Pradesh, a state of 50 million people in India’s south, is an enormous task — the largest such exercise in urban planning in independent India. The country’s track record brings little confidence. Its major cities, marked by inadequate infrastructure and increasing pollution, have become notorious for failing to meet the needs of their massive populations.”

WSJ: “Exactly when quantum computing will start disrupting billion-dollar industries remains hazy. But many businesses—some still smarting from being late to the AI boom—are spending big on the technology today. Enterprise users collectively spent $300 million on quantum in 2025, for the first time outranking the combined spending of research labs and governments, and signaling an inflection point in commercial interest in the technology, according to a report from Boston Consulting Group.”

Acquired (via WSJ): “The massive cash flows from ESPN — Disney’s “other” business—powered the acquisitions that brought three of the greatest film franchises in history into Disney’s kingdom. And that wasn’t all. ESPN’s cash flow helped build Disney parks in Hong Kong and Shanghai, plus financed major renovations like California Adventure in Anaheim and Hollywood Studios in Florida. And more recently, ESPN cash flow also helped fund the creation of the streaming service Disney+.”