Some of us actually enjoy programming, you know? Though, I suppose there's a huge difference between actual development work, and your basic code monkey treadmill. I co-founded an IT Consulting firm, and I play a major role in designing and implementing the software we develop for our clients. I get new and interesting problems to solve, stimulating and challenging work, the freedom to define my own hours and work from home, all while exercising that mix of art and science that is programming. Honestly, the money is pretty much just a bonus; whatever I don't need to live on gets reinvested in the company. How many people can claim that they like their job to the point where a 24+ hour marathon work session is an enjoyable experience?

I do a lot of thinking on paper, too. Although I never took straight notes in class (mainly because I didn't need to study), I would listen to the lectures, and when a concept intrigued me, I would start writing out thoughts about the lecture topic. I rarely looked back at those notes when finals came around, but the act of taking in aural information, processing it, iterating on it, and drawing out conclusions on paper, did a lot more than just copying the professor's words verbatim ever could.

I used to do a lot of free writing before (though I rarely have free time these days). I would choose a topic or subject, and just start writing, continuously. Whatever thoughts entered my mind were immediately transferred to paper, with no editing or selection. I would keep doing that until either I reached the end of the thought-stream (i.e., my pen stopped moving), or my hand cramped up. With practice, it was often the latter. It's a great tool for creativity, information processing, and overcoming the hesitation a lot of people feel when starting a work, whether written or otherwise. I highly recommend the practice.

Because I've gotten into the habit of thinking on paper, whenever I'm trying to work out a solution to a particularly complex programming problem (or any kind of problem, really), I start sketching things out either on paper or a whiteboard, sometimes in words, sometimes in diagrams. I start with an idea, and the act of translating that idea onto paper causes me to consider specifics. The idea may or may not change drastically before I'm through, due to concepts and issues that were previously unseen. Not only does writing this sort of thing down help me actually process and refine the ideas, but it also provides a thought record. I can go backwards through the notes to see how and why I arrived at a particular conclusion, which is sometimes useful months down the line.

I always carry a notebook and pen with me. I keep a small pocket sized one on me, and a larger one (with half graph paper, half lined) in my laptop bag. One can never be sure when inspiration strikes. A colleague once started writing on a napkin at a restaurant; I just looked at him with pity and silently handed him my pocket notepad.

+1, Field Notes reference.

Yeah, I understand the need for the first two seasons to develop the character, and I applaud the creators for staying the course for the sake of the story, and not caving in to the whims of the public, which is what ruins a lot of shows. At the same time, though, it cost them a viewer for a while.

While the focus of the story is on Walt's transformation, Gus was the catalyst of that change. While (later) Walt may have made the show, Gus made Walt who he is (due to a number of things I'm not going to spoil here.)

Personally, I felt the complete opposite. I watched Season 1, and a bit of Season 2, but I just couldn't get into it. I was intrigued by the concept, but it was slow and boring. Not to mention I was going through the whole cancer thing myself at the time, so the last thing I needed was to watch someone else go through it. I decided I didn't like the show, and then ignored it for several years.

Eventually, when Season 5 first aired, my friends kept talking about the show, and eventually they convinced me to pick it up again. I'm glad I listened to them, because after the 2nd season, things pick up pace dramatically. It moves from focusing on a melodramatic cancer patient fumbling his way through the criminal underworld to vast criminal empires, intrigue, death, and a man's descent into darkness. Not to mention Gus made the show what it is.

Well, I was referring to the last 10 years in which the PC industry was expanding, not the current climate where it is stagnating. (I was also arguing on theory and hypotheticals, not hard facts in regards to MS in particular, as I haven't taken the time to research that.) Still, glad to know that at least some people understand.

You are absolutely correct. Business is a complicated matter, and if you don't take all the variables into account, you are just setting yourself up for failure. You need to find a way to balance the often conflicting goals to promote overall growth.

Growing market share does lead to increased shareholder returns all other things being equal. What I never said was that market share should be increased at any cost.

I am attempting to point out that there are many complicated factors in determining whether a specific policy or action is a success. Nothing more, nothing less. Or do you disagree that growing by 5% when all of your competitors grow by 10% is a failure? It is not a dismal failure, but it is by no means a success.

I don't recall saying that increasing market share is the optimal goal at any cost. It's not. But even if your profit margin per customer is 1000%, that doesn't matter if no one buys your product. One would hope that reasonable people realize that nothing exists in a vacuum. Indeed, the original point of my first message was to point out the shortsightedness of examining only a single variable to measure success. It is foolish to look solely at profit, just as it is foolish to look solely at market share. Every business action attempts to modify three variables: cost, value, and sales. Profit looks at only the first two, whereas market share is only relevant to the last. But if you fail to take all three into account, you have failed at business. Halving profit margins while doubling market share is a net zero for your business, and one should always aim for a net positive from your actions. I'm not sure how to explain it any clearer than that, so if you still have questions, please lay them out explicitly.

Of course not. That's a gross oversimplification. But if market share were not related to profit, then no one would pay for marketing, no?

Growing market share leads to improving shareholder returns. If the market you're in grows by 10%, but in the same period you only grow by 5%, then not only have you lost intangible market share, but that very tangible 5% of increased profit you missed out on.

I wasn't trying to imply that profit isn't important (it is), merely pointing out that in an expanding industry it is possible to gain a small increase in profit while simultaneously losing market share. Thus, profit alone cannot be the measurement by which managerial policies are judged. If you lose market share, then you lose potential profit, even if you can still chalk up "growth" in regards to profit.

Van Gogh was notoriously depressed. His entire career as an artist was little more than five years, ending with his suicide in 1890. The nature of his work changed dramatically at a rapid pace, pieces from a year before could almost be from another artist entirely. This all suggests that he was never truly satisfied with his works. It has nothing to do with the lack of financial success, but rather the lack of acceptance from his peers, who often derided him. He continued painting, not because he thought he was good at it, but because he wanted to get better.

Profit isn't really the best measurement of the success of a company in an expanding industry. Even if your profit increased, if over the same period you've lost market share, you've essentially failed. Not that I have any clue what MS market share looks like over the last 10 years; you still might be correct.

Um... yes actually. Van Gogh actually only sold one painting in his entire life, and he considered himself somewhat of a failure as a painter. He did not become famous until after his death.