Author: SK

Expanding IMPS

I hate carrying and transacting with cash. I find it extremely inconvenient and ineffective. The only place where I’m happy carrying and transacting with cash is Spain, where there is a high rate of pickpocketing, and carrying cash puts a floor on your downside.

There are several reasons to this. Cash is messy and dirty. Cash is prone to mutilation. Change is a massive problem. Even from the point of view of the central bank, printing currency costs significant money. When splitting bills at dinners I’m usually the guy who uses his card and “friendTMs”.

Recently (much belatedly, as I figured), I discovered IMPS. This service by the National Payments Corporation of India allows you to transfer money realtime. I used it once to transfer money between two bank accounts held (at different banks) by me. The “funds received” SMS arrived before the “funds transferred” SMS. It’s actually real time.

I had to make a payment to someone else last week and I had a problem with my ATM Card. Using the Citibank Mobile App, I discovered I could pay him up to Rs. 1000 without a second factor authentication, and only knowing his account number and bank IFSC code. The transaction took less than a minute. If he has a “MMID”, I could do the transfer using that ID and his mobile number, without him giving me his bank details. Again instantaneously.

So I’ve started wondering what prevents the tender coconut guy down the road (with whom I have a perennial change problem since a coconut costs Rs. 25, and 5 rupee notes/coins are hard to come by) putting up a board with his mobile number and MMID so that I can pay him through IMPS. I wonder the same about other vendors that I encounter in daily life.

The problem is one of product management and pricing. One reason credit cards haven’t taken off as much in India is that many vendors are concerned about the (~2%) interchange fees they pay on every transaction. So far I haven’t been charged for IMPS (at either end). Popularising and marketing it needs funding, though, and some kind of transaction fee structure needs to be figured out.

Currently, you have apps like Pockets, PingPay or Chillr that allow IMPS transfers. The beauty of these apps is that they eliminate the need for sharing MMID (which recipients have shared with the app on registration), and money can be transferred using the recipient’s Mobile Number only. The problem, though (as I had mentioned in this LinkedIn piece), is that these apps are currently building walls around banks, not permitting interoperability.

Since transactions take place on IMPS, there is no technical constraint. It’s about the war between these apps which prevents inter-bank integration. Given the network effects, though, it makes eminent sense for these platforms to merge and consolidate (or for one to “beat” the other), since this will unleash the “2ab term”.

Having watched the payments sector in a while now, I’m fairly bullish that electronic and mobile payments will take off in a rather large way here. What I’m not so clear about is what kind of pricing model will emerge, who will pay for it, and who will ultimately make money from it.

Car-free days, traffic jams and social capital

While most news nowadays is fairly hilarious, one piece was more hilarious than the others. This was about traffic jams in Gurgaon yesterday, a day that had been declared as a “Car Free Day”.

You might wonder why there might be traffic jams on days that are supposedly “Car Free”. I don’t know the precise effect this can be classified under, but it’s somewhere in a linear combination of Prisoner’s Dilemma and Tragedy of the Commons and correlation, all led by a lack of social capital.

There are no rules that declare the day to be car free. It’s just a “request” by the local government (traffic police in this case). While there were some nominal efforts to improve public transport for the day, etc, there was nothing else that was different yesterday from other days. So why did it lead to a traffic jam?

If you know it’s a car free day and you have a car, you’ll assume that other people are going to leave their cars at home, and that you are going to have a free ride in free-flowing non-traffic if you take out your car. And so you take out your car. Unfortunately, the number of people who think such is enough to cause a traffic jam.

The problem stems with a lack of social capital in Indian cities (based on anecdotal experience (my own data point from 2008-09), I would posit it is lower in Gurgaon than in other Indian cities). As a consequence, when people are trying to make the “great optimisation”, they allocate a greater weight than necessary to their own interests, and consequently a lesser than necessary weight to others’ interests. And thus you end up with outcomes like yesterday’s. More generally, “requests” to people to give up a private benefit for others’ benefits can at best turn out to be counterproductive.

While designing policies, it’s important to be realistic and keep in mind ease of implementation. So if the reality is low social capital, any policy that requires voluntary giving up by people is only going to have a marginal impact.

Coming back to traffic, I’m increasingly convinced (I’ve held this conviction since 2006, and it has only grown stronger over time) that the only way to make people switch to public transport is to lead with supply – flood the streets with buses, which among other things actually increase the cost of private transport. Once there is sufficient density of buses, these buses can be given their own lanes which further pushes up the cost of driving. Then we can look at further measures such as prohibitive parking costs and congestion pricing.

We can have these notional “no car days” and “bus days” and “no honking days” but it is unlikely that any of them will have anything more than a token effect.

Restaurants, deliveries and data

Delivery aggregators are moving customer data away from the retailer, who now has less knowledge about his customer. 

Ever since data collection and analysis became cheap (with cloud-based on-demand web servers and MapReduce), there have been attempts to collect as much data as possible and use it to do better business. I must admit to being part of this racket, too, as I try to convince potential clients to hire me so that I can tell them what to do with their data and how.

And one of the more popular areas where people have been trying to use data is in getting to “know their customer”. This is not a particularly new exercise – supermarkets, for example, have been offering loyalty cards so that they can correlate purchases across visits and get to know you better (as part of a consulting assignment, I once sat with my clients looking at a few supermarket bills. It was incredible how much we humans could infer about the customers by looking at those bills).

The recent tradition (after it has become possible to analyse large amounts of data) is to capture “loyalties” across several stores or brands, so that affinities can be tracked across them and customer can be understood better. Given data privacy issues, this has typically been done by third party agents, who then sell back the insights to the companies whose data they collect. An early example of this is Payback, which links activities on your ICICI Bank account with other products (telecom providers, retailers, etc.) to gain superior insights on what you are like.

Nowadays, with cookie farming on the web, this is more common, and you have sites that track your web cookies to figure out correlations between your activities, and thus infer your lifestyle, so that better advertisements can be targeted at you.

In the last two or three years, significant investments have been made by restaurants and retailers to install devices to get to know their customers better. Traditional retailers are being fitted with point-of-sale devices (provision of these devices is a highly fragmented market). Restaurants are trying to introduce loyalty schemes (again a highly fragmented market). This is all an attempt to better get to know the customer. Except that middlemen are ruining it.

I’ve written a fair bit on middleman apps such as Grofers or Swiggy. They are basically delivery apps, which pick up goods for you from a store and deliver it to your place. A useful service, though as I suggest in my posts linked above, probably overvalued. As the share of a restaurant or store’s business goes to such intermediaries, though, there is another threat to the restaurant – lack of customer data.

When Grofers buys my groceries from my nearby store, it is unlikely to tell the store who it is buying for. Similarly when Swiggy buys my food from a restaurant. This means loyalty schemes of these sellers will go for a toss. Of course not offering the same loyalty program to delivery companies is a no-brainer. But what the sellers are also missing out on is the customer data that they would have otherwise captured (had they sold directly to the customer).

A good thing about Grofers or Swiggy is that they’ve hit the market at a time when sellers are yet to fully realise the benefits of capturing customer data, so they may be able to capture such data for cheap, and maybe sell it back to their seller clients. Yet, if you are a retailer who is selling to such aggregators and you value your customer data, make sure you get your pound of flesh from these guys.

Two way due diligence

In a cash-and-stock or all-stock acquisition, does due diligence take place one way or both ways?

This is a relevant question because not only are shareholders of the acquiring company acquiring shares of the target company, but shareholders of the target company are also acquiring shares of the acquiring company.

Take, for example, Foodpanda’s acquisition of Tastykhana in 2014. The source of this snippet, of course, is the brilliant Mint story about Foodpanda earlier this week.

Shachin Bharadwaj, founder of TastyKhana, a Pune-based start-up that Foodpanda acquired in November 2014. After spending two months inside the company, Bharadwaj was disturbed about the lack of processes and had uncovered several discrepancies—fake orders, fake restaurants, no automation, overdependence on open Excel sheets, which were prone to manipulation, and suspicion over contracts awarded to vendors.

“I know I am making allegations,” he told the people in the room. “All I am asking is that we do an independent audit.”

The others were not interested.

“The past is the past,” said Malhotra. “Let’s just resolve the differences and find a way forward for you and Rohit to work together.”

So Foodpanda acquired Tastykhana, and the Tastykhana founder (who became a Foodpanda employee) later found out that Foodpanda wasn’t the company he had assumed it was, and now owning shares of a company he had overestimated, he rightly felt shafted. It’s unlikely that due diligence happened “the other way” in this acquisition.

I had written on LinkedIn a while back about how employees accepting stock in a company that is hiring them are implicitly investing financially in the company, and that they need to be able to do due diligence before they make such an investment. Acquisition works in a similar way.

So I’m repeating myself yet again in this blog post, but is “reverse due diligence” (acquiree checking acquirer’s books) a standard practice in the M&A industry? Does this work differently in big company markets and in startups? Do acquirers get pissed off when acquirees want to do due diligence before getting acquired (when being paid in stock)?

Note that this doesn’t apply to all-cash deals.

Hyperlocal and inventory intelligence

The number of potential learnings from today’s story in Mint (disclosure: I write regularly for that paper) on Foodpanda are immense. I’ll focus on only one of them in this blog post. This is a quote from the beginning of the piece:

 But just as he placed the order, one of the men realized the restaurant had shut down sometime back. In fact, he knew for sure that it had wound up. Then, how come it was still live on Foodpanda? The order had gone through. Foodpanda had accepted it. He wondered and waited.

After about 10 minutes, he received a call. From the Foodpanda call centre. The guy at the other end was apologetic:

“I am sorry, sir, but your order cannot be processed because of a technical issue.”

“What do you mean technical issue?” the man said. “Let me tell you something, the restaurant has shut down. Okay.”

I had a similar issue three Sundays back with Swiggy, which is a competitor of Foodpanda. Relatives had come home and we decided to order in. Someone was craving Bisibelebath, and I logged on to Swiggy. Sure enough, the nearby Vasudev Adigas was listed, it said they had Bisibelebath. And so I ordered.

Only to get a call from my “concierge” ten minutes later saying he was at the restaurant and they hadn’t made Bisibelebath that day. I ended up cancelling the order (to their credit, Swiggy refunded my money the same day), and we had to make do with pulao from a nearby restaurant, and some disappointment on having not got the Bisibelebath.

The cancelled order not only caused inconvenience to us, but also to Swiggy because they had needlessly sent a concierge to deliver an impossible order. All because they didn’t have intelligence on the inventory situation.

All this buildup is to make a simple point – that inventory intelligence is important for on-demand hyperlocal startups. Inventory intelligence is a core feature of startups such as Uber or Ola, where availability of nearby cabs is communicated before a booking is accepted. It is the key feature for something like AirBnb, too.

If you don’t know whether what you promise can be delivered or not, you are not only spending for a futile delivery, but also losing the customer’s trust, and this can mean lost future sales.

Keeping track of inventory is not an easy business. It is one thing for an Uber or AirBnB where each service provider has only one product which is mostly sold through you. It is the reason why someone like Practo is selling appointment booking systems to software – it also helps them keep track of appointment inventory, and raise barriers to entry for someone else who wants the same doctor’s inventory.

The challenge is for companies such as Grofers or Swiggy, where each of their sellers have several products. Currently it appears that they are proceeding with “shallow integration”, where they simply have a partnership, but don’t keep track of inventory – and it leads to fiascos like mentioned above.

This is one reason so many people are trying to build billing systems for traditional retailers – currently most of them do their books manually and without technology. While it might still be okay for their business to continue doing that (considering they’ve operated that way for a while now), it makes it impossible for them to share information on inventory. I’m told there is intense competition in this sector, and my money is on a third-party provider of infrastructure who might expose the inventory API to Grofers, PepperTap and any other competitor – for it simply makes no sense for a retailer to get locked in to one delivery company’s infrastructure.

Yet, the problem is easier for the grocery store than it is for the restaurant. For the grocery store, incoming inventory is not hard to track. For a restaurant, it is a problem. Most traditional restaurants are not used to keeping precise track of food that they prepare, and the portion sizes also have some variation in them. And while this might seem like a small problem, the difference between one plate of kesari bhath and zero plates of kesari bhaths is real.

Chew on it!

Market depth, pricing and subsidies

A few days back I had written about how startups should determine how much to subsidise their customers during the growth phase – subsidise to the extent of the long-term price. If you subsidise too much initially, elasticity might hit you when you eventually have to raise prices, and that can set you back.

The problem is in determining what this long-term sustainable price will be. In “one-sided markets” where the company manufactures or assembles stuff and sells it on, it is relatively easy, since the costs are well known. The problem lies in two-sided markets, where the long-term sustainable price is a function of the long-term sustainable volume.

A “bug” of any market is transaction costs, and this is especially the case in a two-sided market. If you are a taxi driver on Ola or Uber platform, the time you need to wait for the next ride or distance you travel to pick up your next customer are transaction costs. And the more “liquid” the market (more customers and more drivers), the lesser these transaction costs, and the more the money you make.

In other words, the denser a market, the lower the price required to match demand and supply, with the savings coming out of savings in transaction costs.

So if you are a two-sided market, the long-term sustainable price on your platform is a function of how big your market will be, and so in order to determine how much to subsidise (which is a function of long-term sustainable price), you need to be able to forecast how big the market will be. And subsidise accordingly.

It is well possible that overly optimistic founders might be too bullish about the eventual size of their platform, and this can lead to subsidising to an extent greater than the extent dictated by the long term market size. And some data points from the Indian “marketplace industry” show that this has possibly happened in India.

Having remained credit card only for a long time now, Uber has started accepting cash payments – in order to attract customers who are not comfortable transacting money online. This belated opening shows that Uber perhaps didn’t hit the numbers they had hoped to, using their traditional credit card / wallet model.

Uber has problems on the driver side, too, with an increasing number of its drivers turning out to be rather rude (this is anecdata from several sources, I must confess), refusing rides, fighting with passengers, etc. Competitor Ola has started buying cars and loaning them to drivers, perhaps indicating that the driver side of the market hasn’t grown to their expectations. They are all indicative of overestimation of market size, and an attempt to somehow hit that size rather than operating at the lower equilibrium.

So an additional risk in running marketplaces is that if you overestimate market size, you might end up overdoing the subsidies that you provide to build up the market. And at some point in time you have to roll back those subsidies, which might lead to shrinkage of the market and a possible death spiral.

Now apply this model to your favourite marketplace, and tell me what you think of them.

Why Europe should back Bashar al-Assad

This might seem like a nonsensical idea, but there are good reasons as to why European countries should back Syrian President Bashar al-Assad. This is because the most important thing now from their perspective is to bring some sort of stability into Syria.

The thing with the long-ongoing civil war in Syria is that there are no good guys. Initially, Western powers considered backing the rebels, who are mostly Sunni and hence enjoy the support of other Gulf countries. However, a part of the rebel faction turned into Islamic State and started unleashing atrocities not only in Syria but also in neighbouring Iraq.

al-Assad is no paragon of virtue, and his forces have not held back in unleashing atrocities. Yet the fact remains that he has successfully ruled over Syria (albeit as a hereditary dictator) successfully for a few years until the trouble started brewing. The other thing going for him is that he is a strong leader, and can possibly be convinced to talk, given that the only leadership on the other side is Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, the self-styled “caliph” of the Islamic State.

The unrest in Syria has caused much trouble in Europe, thanks to heavy migration – much more than what Europe can normally handle. What this has achieved is in turning Syria’s problem partly into Europe’s problem, and it is in Europe’s interest to solve the problem in Syria if they are to address the problem at their own borders.

The fight in Syria is between two horrible regimes (or one horrible regime and one horrible non-regime), and the victory of neither will do good for the people of Syria. Yet, the steady state of the unsteady peace that will follow after the battle is significantly superior to the people of Syria than the current status of civil war. For this reason, there is merit in ending the war as an immediate goal, and then looking to stabilise the country in the long run.

And the best way for an interventionist power to end a war is to support the stronger side. al-Assad’s side has been officially made stronger with the recent intervention of Russia on that side. So now it is clear who the side more likely to win is. And so Europe should intervene to make sure that happens quickly.

There are other collateral benefits also – coming down on al-Assad’s side will earn European countries brownie points with Putin, which are important because they face off against him in other theatres, such as Ukraine. While it remains that Putin is a madman and the value of such brownie points is unknown, the option value of these points is surely strictly positive?

So Europe should act, and act now. The trouble is at their doorstep now. They need not commit actual troops. Some drones will do for a start. The actual fighting will be done by al-Assad’s forces with more direct help from Putin. And the civil war will hopefully be stamped out soon.

The problem of al-Assad won’t go away, and will need to be dealt with another day, but at least there can be some semblance of peace there. Which might stem the horrific flight of so many Syrians across the seas into Europe’s borders (where they are receiving a mostly cold welcome).

The Gulf countries will not be pleased, of course, but with oil prices dropping their bargaining power in the overall geopolitical sphere is dropping, that much collateral damage is okay for the benefit of putting an end to the horrific conflict in Syria.

Update: This post was updated on 14th of November 2015, in the wake of the Paris terrorist attacks. This is not a nonsensical post any more.

vaDe for meat and tithi ooTas

The story goes that the humble medu vaDe was invented a couple of millennia back when Brahmins went veggie (to compete with Buddhism and Jainism), and needed a source of protein to replace meat. The vaDe, packed with urad dal and deep fried, can perhaps be described as the perfect keto snack, especially considering that it’s eaten with coconut chutney.

So the humble vaDe is a fixture at lunch during death ceremonies. A standard feature of Kannadiga Brahmin death ceremonies is the “feeding of the brahmins”. These are no ordinary brahmins – they are special brahmins who are part of the ceremony where one represents God and the other represents the deceased in whose name the death ceremony (colloquially called ‘tithi’) is being performed.

Given that these brahmins have fasted before the meal and will fast the rest of the day (this is all in theory, of course), they need to be fed nutritious meals, and what is a better source of long-lasting nutrition than the humble vaDe? The vaDe has become so synonymous with tithis that in Karnataka it is symbolic of death ceremonies, and not prepared on auspicious occasions. The phrase “I’ll eat vaDe in your name” can be considered as a mild death threat, for example.

Right from childhood I’ve always wanted some crunchy stuff to eat with my rice. Back then, my parents would ensure that our house was well-stocked with crunchies such as Congress peanuts, nippaT, mixture, etc., which I would eat along with my rice. Occasionally my mother would make happaLa (fried paapaD). Back when was at IITM, I would make the decision on whether to eat chapati or rice for lunch based on the availability of happaLa – I’m such a sucker for crunchies with rice.

Death ceremonies being solemn occasions, however, crunchies aren’t made. It’s taboo to serve happaLa during these kind of ceremonies (despite the protein that packs, too). The occasional lunch can be eaten without crunchies, but if you have to eat tithi ooTa on a regular basis, some “adjustment” has to be made?

The epiphany happened on the 13th of April 2007, at Paschimavaahini near Mysore. My father had passed away two days earlier after a prolonged illness, and after having cremated his remains, we had gone to Paschimavaahini to dunk his ashes in the Kaveri. This was my first exposure to performing death ceremonies, and I found it so unpleasant that I only performed a limited subset of them when my mother passed away in 2009, and gave up altogether on performing my parents’ annual death ceremonies in 2012 after a series of unpleasant experiences.

That day in 2007, however, was when I discovered the utility of the vaDe as the crunchy during tithi ooTas (ooTa is Kannada for meal). Chutney had also been served, and some vaDes were served at the beginning of the meal along with the rice. You break off a piece of vaDe, dip it in the chutney, and then pick it up with a morsel of huLianna (sambar rice) or saaranna (rasam rice), and you get both crunchies and enhanced taste. And that has formed my template for tithi ooTas (which I’m forced to occasionally attend, though I don’t perform tithis myself) ever since.

Yet another epiphany happened last month, when I was at one such tithi ooTa (in memory of my cousin’s grandmother). Sometime between the initial epiphany and this, I had started eating meat, and this was a key component going into this epiphany.

As I was polishing off huLianna with vaDe and chutney at my cousin’s grandmother’s tithi, the process seemed rather familiar. Considering that I don’t eat too many tithi ooTas, this was surprising. And then it struck me that the way I was eating was exactly the same as the way one eats meat with rice (while eating with fingers in South Indian style). You break off the piece of meat, and pick it up with a morsel of rice (mixed with whatever), and put them together into your mouth.

That was when I got reminded of the vaDe replacing meat in the Brahmin diet. It all seemed to fit in now. Even the way it is traditionally consumed (nothing gets more traditional than a tithi ooTa) is the same!

Tailpiece: Speaking of tithi ooTas, there’s a saying that goes “tie up the cat and perform the tithi”. So I was quite amused when I saw a cat polish off a rather large mound of rice outside a “tithi hotel” yesterday. The rice had been put out on a plantain leaf, evidently deliberately for the cat. From getting tied up during tithis to getting mounds of rice, the cat has come a long way.

VC Funding, Ratchets and Optionality

A bug (some call it a “feature”) of taking money from VCs is that it comes in with short optionality. VCs try to protect their investments by introducing “ratchets” which protect them against the reduction in valuation of the investee in later rounds.

As you might expect, valuation guru Aswath Damodaran has a nice post out on how to value these ratchets, and how to figure out a company’s “true valuation” after accounting for the ratchets.

A few months back, I’d mentioned only half in jest that I want to get into the business of advising startups on optionality and helping them value investment offers rationally after pricing in the ratchets, so that their “true valuation” gets maximised.

In a conversation yesterday, however, I figured that this wouldn’t be a great business, and startups wouldn’t want to hire someone like me for valuing the optionality in VC investments. In fact, they wouldn’t want to hire anyone for valuing this optionality.

There are two reasons for this. Firstly, startups want to show the highest valuation possible, even if it comes embedded with a short put option. A better valuation gives them bigger press, which has some advertising effect for sales, hiring and future valuations. A larger number always has a larger impact than a smaller number.

Then, startup founders tend to be an incredibly optimistic bunch of people, who are especially bullish about their own company. If they don’t believe enough in the possible success of their idea, they wouldn’t be running their company. As a consequence, they tend to overestimate the probability of their success and underestimate the probability of even a small decrease in future valuation. In fact, the probability of them estimating the latter probability at zero is non-zero.

So as the founders see it, the probability of these put options coming into the money is near-zero. It’s almost like they’re playing a Queen of Hearts strategy. The implicit option premium they get as part of their valuation they see as “free money”, and want to grab it. The strikes and structures don’t matter.

I have no advice left to offer them. But I have some advice for you – given that startups hardly care about optionality, make use of it and write yourself a fat put option in the investment you make. But then this is an illiquid market and there is reputation risk of your option expiring in the money. So tough one there!

The service marketplace paradox

This came out of a conversation a few weeks back, and resurfaced in a conversation yesterday. There is a fundamental paradox in service marketplaces – the more useless the general quality of service is, the more useful the marketplace. Let me explain.

Let us take the market for plumbers, for example. There are several hyperlocal service marketplaces in India (like HouseJoy or LocalOye) which supply plumbers on demand. Their biggest challenge is offline transactions (as this article about US-based HomeJoy describes) – once two sides of the market are introduced to each other, they take further transactions online.

Thus, there is a huge amount of activity and value taken offline once the introduction has been made, as the long tail of the client/pro relationship takes hold. Clients are perpetually motivated to move their pro relationships off platform, because it’s one less intermediary to go through to directly access the pros they love.

In other words, once I’ve discovered a plumber through HouseJoy (for example), and find his work to be good, the next time I need a plumber I’ll simply call him rather than call HouseJoy (cutting out the middleman). If the plumber is reliable and produces reasonable service, HouseJoy has practically lost me as a customer for plumbing services for a long time.

On the other hand, if the plumber I used the first time is good but not reliable (doesn’t arrive on time the next time I call him), I’m likely to use HouseJoy (or a competitor)  the next time round. In other words, the worse the service providers are (in terms of reliability, not quality of work), the greater the likelihood of the platform getting business!

This is the fundamental paradox of service marketplaces. When services are reliable, you don’t need a marketplace. So if you need a marketplace only if services are unreliable, the server side of the marketplace is full of unreliable people. The hope, and the value that the marketplace adds, is that by aggregating a bunch of unreliable people, some level of reliability is guaranteed. The question is how sustainable this is.

Think of this another way – the level of reliability offered by a marketplace can be described as the sum of reliability of service providers and reliability of the marketplace itself. So for a given level of overall reliability, the marketplace adds more value if individual service providers are less reliable!

Extending this model to other marketplaces and services is left as an exercise to the reader. Feel free to use the comments section to write your analysis.