Blogging since 1998. By David Wertheimer

Category: Observed (Page 4 of 24)

How industry consolidation affects you: meat

Buying some steaks or pork chops for dinner tonight? If you’re buying a name brand at a supermarket, chances are it’s coming from one of the four major players in each market segment.

As of 2007, the four biggest beef packers in the U.S. supply more than 83% of our total supply, with Tyson and Cargill owning the majority. That’s right: more than half of America’s beef comes from one of two meat suppliers. Swift & Co. and National Beef Packing Co are three-four but their combined total is barely more than Cargill’s alone.

The same consolidation exists in the pork packing industry, although Smithfield Foods is the leader, with 26% of the market. The top four players control two-thirds of the market and include—surprise!—Tyson, Swift and Cargill.

These five companies are providing most of our protein nowadays, which makes the locavore movement just a bit more interesting. (Source)

This is the latest in a series of summaries of industries whose corporate consolidation has led to a small number of players controlling the majority of the market, creating oligopolies in the mass market. Previously

How industry consolidation affects you: rental cars

Renting a car? These are the major domestic options by brand name:

  • Enterprise
  • National
  • Hertz
  • Alamo
  • Avis
  • Budget
  • Thrifty
  • Dollar
  • Zipcar

But this is the corporate landscape, pending FTC approval of two recent deals:

  • Hertz Global Holdings (Hertz, Thrifty, Dollar)
  • Avis Budget Group (Avis, Budget, Zipcar)
  • Enterprise Holdings (Enterprise, Alamo, National)

Nine brands, three car companies. Remember that next time you try threatening the guy at the airport that you’ll walk over to the next counter.

This is the first in a series of summaries of industries whose corporate consolidation has led to a small number of players controlling the majority of the market, creating oligopolies in the mass market.

What I learned today (yesterday, really), December 24-25

Americans are 6 percent more likely to get in an automobile accident on April 15: “tax day, likely due to driver distraction caused by stress.”
Other interesting car crash facts: men are responsible for 57% of all crashes, but if it’s due to mashing the wrong pedal, there’s a two-thirds chance a woman was behind the wheel; automobile fatalities are now just 15% as frequent as they were sixty years ago; thanks to reduced fatality rates, fewer people died in an accident last year than they did in 1949, when the population of the United States was less than 150 million.

Formerly known as

A few days ago my last company disappeared.
Well, not exactly disappeared and not exactly a few days ago. But in a press release dated Monday, the ecommerce shop I founded, Canopy Commerce, was rebranded and folded back into its parent company, Alexander Interactive.
Canopy lasted roughly two years and built a successful portfolio of client work. We launched some pretty good stuff, frankly (“incredible success,” per the press release) and had a pretty good time doing so. Several Canopy employees rolled into Ai with the name change, ensuring a smooth transition.
Back in 2010, when I was creating Canopy with Ai’s owners, I advocated having a business unit and not a standalone company, so I am neither shocked nor disappointed that Canopy is now Ai-branded. My CEO role wasn’t filled after I left, so this is a logical step.
I have been thinking a lot about this, though, and about the ephemeral nature of employment in general. I now have worked for three companies whose names no longer exist, not to mention my own currently dormant consulting shop. While one former employer became a client of mine, 13 years later, I’m at the point where I don’t even know how to refer to some others.
For better or worse, people identify heavily with the work they do and where they do it. I typically recite with pride the places I’ve been, which is made harder when they disappear. It’s a little soulless, a little confusing, a little disjointed. People’s recall lessens. Web searches become less fruitful. LinkedIn profiles get messy. (I rolled up my Canopy title into Ai on my profile, for example.)
This is the nature of the business world, of course. I should be used to it as someone who specializes in Internet projects, where entire companies can disappear in a click; even my own website archives are full of missing files. But employers gone missing resonates in a different way.
Farewell, Canopy. We had an interesting run.

On LCD screens and parenting

Behold: the Fisher-Price Apptivity Case, a protective baby-friendly cover for your iPhone.
I’m a digital guy, have been since I got an Atari as a second-grader. I now have two kids that can’t help but see my TV set, laptop, iPad, iPhone, iPod. They think it’s fascinating and fun.
So I did what any responsible parent should do. I downloaded and tested some age-appropriate apps and let my older son explore. The iPad and iPhone are genius devices in their usability, with their clutter-free fascia and immersive interfaces. So now the gadget is teaching the boy animals, colors, shapes, letters, memory retention and matching, spatial relations, you name it. We also set up guidelines: no screens between breakfast and dinner, no YouTube (Thomas the Tank Engine snuff films! who knew?), you have to play out difficult boards and not quit things quickly, etc.
That boy is now 4 and is as digitally savvy as anyone his age. He’s also wicked good at memory matching games, he can write his letters in capitals and lowercase, and he plays sophisticated games like Flow, Trainyard and Rush Hour better than many adults. Heck, he figured out how to unlock the home screen at 21 months. And he still loves his real-world toys, crayons and books.
Done right, gadgets are as wondrously useful for young people as they are for adults.
My baby boy is 15 months and dying to play with the iPhone. Right now he only gets glimpses when his big brother is engaged. Soon enough, Eli, soon enough.

Travel evolution in the 21st century

Stuff I carried around Hong Kong as I explored on my first trip there, October 2000:

  • Map
  • Camera
  • Guidebook/phrase book 
  • Magazine (for reading while on trains, at lunch, etc.)
  • Handwritten sheet of destinations
  • Nokia 8290 cell phone
Stuff I carried around Hong Kong as I explored last week:
  • iPhone

Having one’s Facebook cake and eating it, too

Sean Bonner: Facebook makes me feel like a shitty friend.

Facebook made it easy. So now I have to wonder am I only staying in touch with those people because it requires absolutely zero effort on my part? What kind of a person does that make me? What does that say about how much I value their friendship?

Earlier this month I found out about a friend’s wife giving birth via Facebook, and only Facebook. It’s not the first time this has happened (indeed, not even the first time with this friend). And, to use Bonner’s turn of phrase, it made me feel kind of shitty.
Social media sites are wondrous things. I am in touch with more people in infinitely more ways than I ever expected. The problem lies with scale and distance, as the same interactions that feel immediate to the author can feel very different to the reader–both more and less intimate than originally intended, depending on the recipient. What Bronner and I are observing is less technological than sociological: replacing important real-life touchpoints with digital ones can be inherently, and inadvertently, disappointing.
Social interactions have myriad levels of nuance. Facebook is different from Twitter, for example. Email distribution lists remain popular alongside social networks (for my demographic, at least). And each type of action carries its own etiquette. Checking into the hospital on Foursquare and tweeting the delivery of a child can be fascinating and energizing and fun. Extreme example: Matt Haughey live-tweeted his vasectomy! But the same broadcast capabilities that bring levity to such things also defy conventional levels of friendship. When inner-circle, 20-years-of-history friends post the same birth notice to you as to 680 of their digital connections, that inner circle takes on a much flimsier feel. (Let the record show that in each case of “hey, I saw on Facebook that you’re a dad now,” I replied with a phone call.)
I rediscovered Bonner’s post because yesterday he quit Facebook altogether. I don’t think I’m in quite that drastic a frame of mind. My own Facebook usage is quite minimal: after all, if you’re concerned about privacy on Facebook, limiting what you tell Facebook goes a long way toward mitigating its pervasiveness. My profile there is no more robust than what you find about me on Twitter, LinkedIn, et al. with the exception of a handful of photos and some basic banter with my friends. My privacy settings are finely tuned. I can live with Facebook knowing and using that much about me.
And indeed, I almost need Facebook, because its wall has become many people’s primary mode of communication. I only log onto Facebook once a week or so, and when I’m gone for too long, I miss out on news of life-altering events. The privacy concerns are valid, sure, but many people have decided, however unwittingly, that they’re willing to live with the trade-offs of privacy and reach. And while I’d probably be fine not residing within the Facebook social graph, I don’t terribly want to dictate terms to my friends regarding how they keep in touch with me. So for now, they’ll post, I’ll call, and we’ll all go to bed happy.
Social media is an amazing tool. Even more so on one’s own terms.

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