Move to Substack?

Ever since I acquired this domain name (back in 2008), this blog has been hosted on WordPress. However, now I’m starting to wonder if I should port it to Substack (the URL will remain the same). Let me explain why.

Recently, the admins at Substack wrote an article that “blogging boom is back“. Quoting,

What we’re seeing now feels a lot like that early blogging boom. There was an intimacy we felt reading our favorite blogs, a personal connection to the writers and the communities that grew around them. We stacked our Google Reader with their RSS feeds and turned to them for restaurant recommendations, recipes, home decor trends, crafting inspiration, gossip, political analysis, and life advice. Writers on Substack are providing that same intimacy and connection with the communities they create. No media conglomerates edit their words and ideas. We have access to our favorite writers, just as we did in those fast blogging days. We see ourselves in the personal stories they share; we trust them.

Having started (and not really continued) some five or six substacks in the last five years, I broadly agree to this sentiment. And the reason why I feel like Substack might be “the old blogging in a new form” is due to comments. People actually comment on Substack, unlike on WordPress.

I was reading a friend’s substack yesterday, and noticed a possibly Freudian slip. I quickly hit the comment button and shot off a comment. As of this morning, he has already seen it and replied. This was a regular feature on the blogosphere in the late 2000s. In the 2010s, this kind of behaviour simply died.

And coming to think of it, it possibly has to do with user experience. The user experience for commenting on WordPress absolutely sucks. There is no concept of login across sites (I don’t know when this “openID” was last maintained). So every time you need to write a comment, you need to enter your name, email, website, and maybe even fill a captcha before your comment gets accepted. And that is IF your comment gets accepted (the number of times I’ve written an elaborate comment and seen it NOT go through is insane).

Two decades ago, when blogging was big and growing rapidly, people used to leave comments on one another’s blogs. A LOT. In fact, I discovered a lot of blogs I followed back in the day by following comment trails from blogs that I already liked. It could occasionally be riotous, like on this legendary post by Ravikiran Rao.

And then sometime in 2010 or 11, it all stopped. Almost all of a sudden. I have statistics on number of comments per post on this blog over the years, but right now NED to pull it up (and also, the commenting was heavier when this site was on LJ). Suddenly people stopped commenting. And I think this had an impact on blogging as well. With little or no feedback, people didn’t feel like writing.

People started talking about the death of blogs. Sometimes, writing this would feel like shouting into an empty room. Then again, I’ve considered this as a documentation of my life and my thoughts (and your benefits, if any, being strictly collateral), and carried on.

What Substack seems to have shown is that the appetite for blogging didn’t go away. The appetite for commenting also didn’t go away. It’s only the user experience. Over the years, maybe coinciding with WordPress being the dominant blogging platform (and WordPress being more popular for making websites than for blogs), the user experience of commenting deteriorated. And as people commented less, they blogged less.

Now, looking at the comment density on Substack, I’m seriously considering if I should make a shift there. Still need to see how easily I can port all of this stuff without breaking. But if I can, I might just. What do you think? Do leave a comment (and if you think this blogpost is too hard to comment on, maybe comment on this “note” instead).

Brahmastra

Sometimes we overdo “option value”. We do things that have a small possibility of a big upside, and big possibility of no or very minimal downside, in the belief that “nothing can go wrong in trying”.

My father used to term this “pulling a mountain with a string”, with the reasoning being that if you actually manage to pull, then you have moved a mountain. If not, all that you have lost is a string.

There is one kind of situation, however, where I think we might overindex on option value – these are what I call “one shot events” or “brahmastras”.

Going into a little bit of mythology, there is the story of the Brahmastra in the Mahabharata. Famously, Karna possesses it. It is an incredibly powerful weapon with the feature (or bug, rather) that it can be used only once. Karna would have set it aside to use on Arjuna, but the Pandavas decide to send Ghatotkacha to create havoc during the night fight when Karna is forced to use up his brahmastra on Ghatotkacha – meaning he didn’t have access to it in his battle with Arjuna, where he (Karna) ultimately got killed.

Because the Brahmastra could be used only once, Karna wanted to maximise the impact of the weapon. His initial plan was to use it on what he thought might be a decisive battle with Arjuna. The Pandavas’ counterplan was to force him to use it earlier.

Actually, thinking about it – the Brahmastra can be thought of as another kind of option. The problem here being one of optimal exercise. Actually, there is a very stud paper written by economist Avinash Dixit on this topic – regarding Elaine’s sponges.

Read the whole paper. It is surely worth it. To quickly summarise, Elaine has a limited number of “contraceptive sponges”, and wants to maximise her “utility” of using them. When a guy comes along, she needs to decide whether it is worth expending a sponge on him. Dixit derives a nice equation to determine a function for this.

Basically, Brahmastra occurs when you have only one sponge left, and you need to use it at an “optimal time”. There is another problem in economics  called the “secretary problem” (nothing to do with secretary birds) that deals with this.

Recently I’ve been thinking – these kind of Brahmastra / sponge / secretary problems are important to solve when you are thinking of talking to someone.

Let’s say you have what you think is a studmax application of GenAI and want to talk to VCs about it. If you go too early, the VC will only see a half-baked version of your idea, and even if you go to them later once you have fully formed it, the half-baked idea you had showed them will influence them enough to discount your later fully formed idea.

And if you go too late, the idea may not be that studmax any more, and the VC might dismiss it. So it’s a problem of “optimal exercise” (note that this is an issue only with American options, not European).

It is similar with asking someone out (or so I think – I’ve been out of this business for 14 years now). You approach them “too early” (before they know you), they will dismiss you then and then forever. You approach too late and the option would have expired.

In the world of finance, we focus too much on the PRICE of options and (based on my now limited knowledge) too little on optimal expiry of the said options. In the real world, the latter is also important.

Mid Wife Crisis

A month or two ago, my wife wrote this studmax blogpost about “Mid Life Crises“. I read it when I was in draft. I read it again soon after it was published. And I read it again, and again, and again. And I’ve been showing it to a lot of people I meet.

Having seen this post, it has been impossible to unsee. I used to wonder why Hospi puts so many dance videos on Instagram, and then realised it must be mid-life crisis. I saw Josh go from being a VLSI Engineer to pushing limits, and have classified that as mid-life crisis as well. Recently, Ruddra posted topless gym photos. I actually commented that it “must be mid life crisis”.

A few days ago, my wife and I were talking about an acquaintance who is possibly having an affair, and that again we put down to “mid life crisis”. When asked why he had had a second child eight years after his first, a relative had said “early forties you hit mid life crisis. We had the option of a sports car or another kid. Decided to go for the latter”.

You see – once you’ve seen this concept, and if you belong to the broad 35-50 age group, it is absolutely impossible to un-see. You get excited about possibly meeting an old flame after ages, and mid-life crisis explains that. You want to get hammered when you meet your old friends, and mid-life crisis explains that as well.

Now, being 40 and having identified that I’m at “mid life”, the challenge is to deal with the crisis in the least destructive manner possible. That the crisis exists, and needs to be dealt with, is a fact. The choice is in terms of how to deal with it.

If you are married (or in a long term relationship), you don’t want to have an affair and put that in jeopardy (also the question needs to be asked if one’s demand for an affair can be met with supply). Alcohol and dope can be destructive to your physical and mental health. Social media gives you dopamine (and I think that was my main tool of dealing with mid-life crisis till recently), but can be both addictive and anxiety-causing. Gaming (I’ve considered buying a console for nearly 2 years now, but I’m yet to act on it) gives you the dopamine but again comes with addiction risk.

And that is where the “healthy obsessions come in”. You notice that many people around my age take to running, or cycling, or lifting, or a combination of these. All of these are physically strenuous activities, and thus can give you your endorphins. As an added bonus, they increase either your cardiovascular health or your muscle strength, thus preparing you better for old age.

So you find these to be fairly common midlife-dealing hobbies. If you can find one of these that you don’t get bored by, it’s a clear win-win (I lift weights). The “problem” is that because it is physically strenuous you can only do so much of it (I go to the gym for an hour each 2-3 times a week. If you do less strenuous stuff like running, you can perhaps do an hour 7 times a week). And so you need more. The question is what you can choose that is non-destructive (relatively speaking).

A month or two back, I got introduced to online quizzing. I’m currently playing three leagues (one of them will end soon, but I’ve signed up for yet another starting at the end of this month). I find that this is a fairly high-dopamine hobby (to the extent that now I’ve started doing this late in the night since it interferes with my sleep), and keeps me stimulated enough. The only issue is it can be potentially addictive (when I played my first “friendly” online quiz 2-3 weekends ago, I felt the same way as I did when I smoked my first cigarette – “this is addictive shit, I need to be careful”).

Interestingly, two friends I spoke to in the week of August 15th (and I’m pretty sure those two have never met or spoken to each other) told me “start working on another book to deal with your mid life crisis”. I admit they too have a point, but I don’t know what to write about.

But yes – midlife crisis is a real thing. It is only about how you choose to deal with it without causing self-harm.

SHAP and WAR

A few months back, at work, a couple of kids in my team taught me this concept called “SHAP“. I won’t go into the technical details here (or maybe I will later on in this post), but it is basically an algo that helps us explain a machine learning model.

It was one of those concepts that I found absolutely mind-blowing, to the extent that after these guys taught this concept to me, it became the proverbial hammer, and I started looking for “nails” all around the company. I’m pretty sure I’ve abused it (SHAP I mean).

Most of the documentation of SHAP is not very good, as you might expect about something that is very deeply technical. So maybe I’ll give a brief intro here. Or maybe not – it’s been a few months since I started using and abusing it, and so I’ve forgotten the maths.

In any case, this is one of those concepts that made me incredibly happy on the day I learnt about it. Basically, to put it “in brief”, what you essentially do is to zero out an explanatory variable, and see what the model predicts with the rest of the variables. The difference between this and the actual model output, approximately speaking, is the contribution of this explanatory variable to this particular prediction.

The beauty of SHAP is that you can calculate the value for hundreds of explanatory variables and millions of observations in fairly quick time. And that’s what’s led me to use and abuse it.

In any case, I was reading something about American sport recently, and I realised that SHAP is almost exactly identical (in concept, though not in maths) to Wins Above Replacement.

WAR works the same way – a player is replaced by a hypothetical “average similar player” (the replacement), and the model calculates how much the team would have won in that case. A player’s WAR is thus the difference between the “actuals” (what the team has actually won) and the hypothetical if this particular player had been replaced by the average replacement.

This, if you think about it, is exactly similar to zeroing out the idiosyncrasies of a particular player. So – let’s say you had a machine learning model where you had to predict wins based on certain sets of features of each player (think of the features they put on those otherwise horrible spider charts when comparing footballers).

You build this model. And then to find out the contribution of a particular player, you get rid of all of this person’s features (or replace it with “average” for all data points). And then look at the prediction and how different it is from the “actual prediction”. Depending on how you look at it, it can either be SHAP or WAR.

In other words, the two concepts are pretty much exactly the same!