Daniel

Last night, I read this post by Matt McClure. It started me off on a frantic bout of clicking, tapping and reading. I'd never heard the term 'hypermedia' defined before, although I knew the basic idea behind HATEOAS - returning information about application state along with entities requested from an API.

For some reason, part of this concept stuck in my head. I've been chewing on it overnight, and I thought I'd distill it into a post before I get distracted by the next shiny thing.

I apologise in advance: this is ill-researched, quickly written and a little gushing. However, I am excited. Read on.

Semantics

A lot of people have heard about 'The Semantic Web', but very few of us have genuinely benefitted from such a thing. The basic idea is to write the html pages that make up the Web in a way that can be understood by machines.

This assumes a couple of things:

1. The average web author is going to have the tools, time and inclination to grok some rather complex concepts and incorporate them into their pages.

2. It makes any sense whatsoever to expect machine-readability and human-readability to coexist in the same data.

There are certainly arguments in either direction, but for where we are at right now, neither of these assumptions make much sense to me. The Web has been a wonderful force for democratisation; you cannot expect the general population to write their html in a semantic way. While simple website authoring tools are appearing, they still aren't at the level that will make this stuff automatic.

More importantly, I think the merits of merging human and computer data into the same documents are dubious at best. A company developing an application has separate processes for user interface, back-end and API design. Attempting to tie all of these together increases the complexity and difficulty of developing any given feature.

Suppose I want to rapidly iterate my UX to optimise for sales or engagement. What if I don't have the resources to also iterate on semantic content? Should I expect every designer and front-end engineer to also be a semantic expert? Not in 2012, buddy.

Simplicity

The idea behind the semantic web is a noble one - make information computer-readable. It's easy to describe, but complex to implement. It has been on the way for decades, and it seems to me that we've bitten off more than we can chew. The standards that are creeping glacially forward don't offer enough immediate benefit for the average web developer to pay attention.

I'm thinking about something simpler.

Hypermedia APIs are those that can describe themselves. That's great, if you're a developer, since you can read API responses instead of documentation. Requesting a 'customer' resource gives you the urls for the 'orders' resource. If you're lucky, there might even be some explanation of what to expect when you GET there.

This doesn't bring us any greater depth of functionality, though. It's convenient, but implementing an API client is still the same tedious process.

What we need is some of that machine-readable magic. We need our computer to know what an 'order' will look like before we request it.

Interfaces

If you're a web developer, you've probably met OpenGraph. Practically, it's the way you describe your website so that Facebook understands what the content means. Conceptually, it's a set of object types - 'article', 'website', 'product', etc. It defines the basic attributes those objects must have ('title', 'author', etc).

What we need is OpenGraph for EVERYTHING. There is some commonality between every 'product' in every e-commerce API in the world. There are shared attributes between every single 'user'. We need to define and describe every common web entity - 'order', 'article', 'message', 'check-in', etc - so that anyone implementing an API can use the same data structure with the same basic attributes (as well as any details specific to that particular service).

Then, your HATEOAS response can contain not just the url of the connected resources, but their type.

This is important because it's what makes our API go beyond 'machine-readable' into being 'machine-comprehensible'. Once your client actually understands the content it is receiving, amazing things become possible.

Dependencies

Google want to organise the world's information. That's a big task, and one I'd rather not have to do. In my ideal world, the information would organize itself. That's probably easier than you'd think.

Whatever modern web language you use, it probably has some fancy dependency management. There's likely a central repository of libraries - like ruby's gems, or node's npm. The repository describes what each library does and the dependencies that it has. Library authors are responsible for uploading and maintaining their code.

Imagine having this for APIs. There's a description of what it does - hopefully placing it into a coordinated 'OpenGraph'-esque 'type'. There's description of the 'types' of resources it can both accept and return. This would be useful anyway, but the thing that takes it beyond our current capabilities is computer readability.

As an online shopper, I want the cheapest copy of any given book. I don't care where it comes from, and I don't want to spend 20 minutes exploring different websites and apps with different interfaces to find it. Google have tried to parse human-readable websites into computer-understandable data, but each new website requires a manual step for it to be available to the consumer.

The Universal Client

If we had a central list of APIs and their capabilities, my shopping client could just query the repository for a list of all APIs that could return 'product's of type 'book'. If I've launched a new book store, I can just describe my API, add it to the list and instantly start appearing in customer's search results. Money will pour in. No manual steps involved.

Extrapolating from this, I want to be able to ask Siri to find the cheapest flights to London, to buy me a book to read on the way and find me a scarf to wear when I get there, then post to Facebook announcing my trip. Siri just needs to understand the words 'book', 'scarf', 'flight, 'London' and 'Facebook'. It can then reach out to the API repo, ask who can supply those resources, request some, then send my credit card information. I could even say 'fly me to the city where my brother lives' and Siri would know what to do. A developer has never had to think about writing that combination of requests; the customer basically just wrote their own program by speaking.

THIS IS THE FUTURE. IT WILL COST MOST OF OUR JOBS AND BE TRULY AWESOME.

Being realistic

As our online data becomes more structured, we're going to get to do this cool stuff. It isn't going to be immediate, and there'll be a long adolescence where some services support this kind of communication and others don't.

We need to build something loose, lightweight and flexible that can grow alongside the industries it is attempting to support. Like OpenGraph, and like Gems or NPM, we need to build something that provides developers with genuine benefits and increases their control over the systems they are building.

Rather than get everything perfect before we start, like the Semantic Web has tried, we can make it a bit crappy for the sake of speed. We can hack together existing technologies, make something that barely works and prove the point that it is extremely cool and will make everybody rich. At that point, clever people will start getting interested and the big problems will begin to take care of themselves.

The first step would be to build a simple set of object definitions. OpenGraph has basically already done this. We can build on it, adding fields for unique object identity (a particular shoe from Zappos) and types that describe API capability ("I can return a list of purchasable items in the category 'pet food'").

The second step is to build a repo for APIs and descriptions of what they are capable of. I'm thinking about doing that now (it would take ~20 minutes to implement naievely).

The third step is to write some sweet APIs, or wrap some existing ones to show what is possible. This is the part that needs doing.

"Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains. Those who think themselves the masters of others are indeed greater slaves than they."

- Jean-Jaques Rousseau, The Social Contract.

If you dwell in (or on) modern Silicon Valley, you're likely aware of a rising trend. In the past few years, we've seen the launch and success of multiple services designed to commoditize human labour. From the "Get anything done" of TaskRabbit to the "Executive assistants" of Exec; the "Help you find anything" of Zaarly and "Everyone's private driver" from Uber - we're using mobile technology to create a new class of jobs.

Past

I grew up in a large, brick house built in Birmingham, U.K. during the heyday of the Victorian era. It was built to house members of the growing middle classes - people who moved up to fill a new segment of society neither buoyed by independent wealth nor anchored by grinding poverty. It now housed my family - comfortably middle-class, brought up from humbler roots by the free higher education of a bygone era.

The house had been stripped and renovated multiple times, not always with historical preservation in mind. Some of the original features were gone. Under the floorboards, however, remained one vestige of what made this the Nineteenth Century equivalent of a "Smart Home". A series of thin metal wires, riding on pivots and pulleys, wrapped their way around the building like a system of nerves. Like tributaries of a river, individual wires begun in the various rooms of the house and made their way, gradually converging, to their nexus in the downstairs entrance hall.

Many years ago, at the top of the high-ceilinged hall hung a rectangular wooden plaque. At regular intervals along the plaque, there was a bell, attached to the end of a spiral spring. One wire terminated at each bell. The other end of each wire was attached to a pull-handle in one of the rooms. The inhabitants of these rooms had merely to tug on said handle to cause the corresponding bell to ring, the signal passed through the building by mechanical force. The ring of a bell would send servants rushing forth to the indicated parlour, ready to assist.

As a teenager, I lived in the converted attic of the house - what had been the old servants' quarters. Despite modern insulation and central heating, it was freezing cold in winter, scorching hot in summer. I'd sometimes lie there and shiver and think of the people who lay there before me.

Present

So; America. The land of opportunity, where hard work and dedication can take the poorest refugee as far up the social ladder as they are willing to go. We're entering a new phase of the modern economy - where mass availability of credit has been swept off the table and reality has begun to set in. 

The backdrop of a global recession seems a strange one for this new crop of businesses. Despite the first faltering of growth in personal disposable income in recent history, there's somehow a growing market for what might a few decades ago have seemed extravagant application of human labour - but may have seemed familiar to inhabitants of the Nineteenth Century

This graph of wage and salary disbursements by industry offers a hint. Since the 1980s, salary disbursements in the service industries have vastly outstripped those in industries that represent the traditional US core - the manufacturing and distribution of consumer goods. This has led to the greatest wealth imbalance since the "Gilded Age" - the tailwind of the Victorian era.

[Chart from Paul Krugman, NYT]

This chart shows the share of the richest 10% of the US population in total income. That middle segment - rapidly reduced inequality, caused in part by a world war and in part by FDR's New Deal - represents something highly significant. Those are the golden years of America; the time your parents look fondly back to, where Man stood on the Moon, the poor became comfortable and nobody locked their doors.

Leaving rosy-tinted views aside - this is the era that gave black citizens equal rights, that let women into the workplace, that opened doors to the acceptance of minorities of race, religion and sexuality. The powers of the atom and electron were unleashed; science and education brought new hope to millions. It's the era that made American freedom the dream of the world and brought immigrants flocking to her doors. These four decades are what put the flutter in your Fourth of July flag.

Those days are over, now. With rocketing unemployment, mountainous debt and a growing sense of unrest, inequality has returned with a vengeance. However, like everything else in America, it brings with it new opportunity.

The Human API

As the clock creeps forward, we're witnessing the rise of products and services which commoditize and automate human labour. A step beyond the outsourcing of factory and call-center jobs, individuals are empowered to take others temporarily into their employ. ZipCar splits the cost of a car across many thrifty urbanites; Exec does the same for what amounts to a manservant.

Most of us grew up with the myth of the Robot. Asimov's intelligent, capable and generally obedient artificial humanoids, who promised an era of prosperity and relaxation for all. Robots would take care of mundane tasks and leave human minds to higher purposes - study, relaxation and scientific progress.

Like many, this dream proved tough to realize. AI research stalled; the power of the Atom proved harder to control. Robots entered society, but in hideous, claw-armed form; built for a single task and hidden away in distant factories. The dream of an automated household was far beyond reach.

In Britain, a welfare state with a high minimum wage, a 'carwash' is a cuboid structure of metal and glass. You drive your car in, turn the stereo up and wait. Robotic brushes descend from the ceiling, spraying water and soap and sloughing off dirt. You emerge, minutes later, conspicuously fresh and new.

In Southern California, carwashes look much the same. You drive your car in, sit down and wait. Yet, there's one crucial difference. Rather than robots, your windows are buffed by immigrant labour.

These new labour markets are much the same. We wanted automated help for household tasks. We craved AI assistants who would help with our homework. Enjoyment and prosperity for all! We put our heads together and built dishwashers, vacuums and Google - but they're cheap substitutes, less than what was promised.

So, in lieu of real Robots, we built them out of flesh.

New Modern Ethics

We're witnessing the rebirth of an industry. Domestic servants have existed across the world since time immemorial, but the Twentieth Century saw vast reduction in their use. Either few of us were wealthy enough to pay for them or too few of us felt the need to work in that way, but Do-It-Yourself became king.

It's possible that a culture that rejected domestic service would fare worse than ours in a recession. If the rich are free to pay others to do what they won't do themselves, there'll be more jobs available in times of imbalance. What's more, services like Exec and Uber aren't exclusive to the very rich - they're available to all, at the tap of a button.

Most of us, products of the reign of the middle classes, have barely been exposed to this kind of social relationship. Having other humans at our beck and call - wrapped in the glossy anonymity of an iPhone app - is new, exciting and full of potential. Likewise, the ability to trade your time on an open market is an attractive proposition. Like any new capability, there are many hidden implications. I'll list just a few.

Social Mobility

Social mobility - or the dream of it - is what made America great. When everybody dreams they can be anybody, innovation and entrepreneurship flourishes. Is this dream compatible with widespread domestic service? Traditional middle-class jobs involve a perceived career path; through hard work, you can improve your quality of life. Did this ever really exist? Could a life of performing menial tasks for those who can afford to employ you damage your vertical mobility, keeping you trapped at a lower socioeconomic level?

Psychosocial Harm

Like the heroic powers of pop-culture and legend, the ability to command human labour comes with great responsibility. I opened this essay with a quotation from Rousseau. It suggests that the ability to perceive oneself as the master of another is what makes one subject to slavery. If we accept that anyone else can live in a state of servitude, we accept that we ourselves may do so - and our acceptance of that is what kept us locked in the strict social strata of the pre-Modern era.

As we get used to the new powers available to us, might we fall back into an earlier rhythm, becoming more comfortable with the servitude of ourselves and others? Although they live a life of luxury, we do not tolerate from our leaders such excesses permitted of the monarchs and autocrats of old. If attitudes shift and wealth continues to unequally accumulate, how long before this starts to change?

Squandered Intelligence

In the full span of human history, it is likely that a million Einsteins have perished in the churn of poverty. We believe our society to facilitate the rise of those with special intelligence or skill. We tell ourselves that those who rule us do so because they have proven themselves worthy.

For centuries, people have dreamed of a world where we are freed by automation to achieve our full potential - the ability to explore, learn, enjoy and imagine without the boundaries imposed by our physical nature. Is it right for some to achieve this at the cost of others? Can we shift the burden of inanity onto those born less privileged without paying a fundamental price? Will a society based on these mechanics provide enduring stability, productivity and quality of life?

Future

It's unclear where all this leads. It's currently a fledgling trend in Silicon Valley. It may grow, it may die; it may blossom into a new global industry. My bet is on the latter, and I hope it may do so with fairness and dignity.

It is tempting to think that since the Victorian era, our understanding and empathy for one another have made great strides. I'd hope that those who employ others to help oil the cogs of their lives can do so with humility and grace; a drive to make the most of their time for creativity and innovation rather than the pursuit of decadence. I hope that working conditions remain fair, and these new kinds of jobs can restore the stepping-stone to success that has been torn out for so many.

Realistically, we're entering an era of renewed divides - where one moderately wealthy family may command a staff of many people. The tensions and ignorance that such situations breed may be a peril to us all.

Addendum

After a large and messy party, we had a few of our friends chip in a couple of dollars. I'd been waiting for an excuse to try out Exec. Tapping a few buttons, I called someone out to help us with cleaning. He arrived in twenty minutes, smartly uniformed and friendly. The same age as me. Standing in the kitchen, there were beer bottles everywhere and the floor was unpleasantly sticky. Feeling awkward and imposing, I helped clean the apartment while my friends sat and watched TV.

Discuss on HN

Disclaimer: I am no space expert. I'm a web engineer at a financial company. The only things I know about space come from a lifetime spent reading, watching and dreaming. That a layman can piece things together to this extent just shows how far we have come.

Elon Musk, CEO and Chief Designer of SpaceX, has been quoted saying the following:

"We will probably unveil the overall strategy later this year in a little more detail, but I'm quite confident that it could work and that ultimately we could offer a round trip to Mars that the average person could afford - let's say the average person after they've made some savings."

A trip to Mars for the average person? It, admittedly, depends somewhat on your definition of average:

The entrepreneur described this as about half a million dollars. He conceded the figure was unlikely to be the opening price - rather, the cost of a ticket on a mature system that had been operating for about a decade. Nonetheless, Musk thought such an offering could be introduced in 10 years at best, and 15 at worst. 

With their recent successful launch and upcoming docking with the ISS, SpaceX has already changed the landscape of space exploration. As a species, however, we're still a long way from setting foot on Mars. Or are we?

These are the greatest obstacles between us and the solar system:

Waste

Musk asserts that the main costs associated with travelling between Earth and Space are associated with reusability. Traditional space vehicles are destroyed and must be replaced each time a load is lifted to orbit. This is obviously expensive. If we're aiming for $10-$20 per pound, it simply will not do.

Weight

If you're heading to Mars, you're going to need a lot of fuel. What's worse is how much of it needs to be dragged along with you all the way. To get to Mars and back, you need to leave the Earth, fling yourself towards Mars (or at least towards where it will be in a few months' time), decelerate (requiring just as much fuel as getting yourself moving in the first place) and then, after landing, escape from Mars's gravity well and do the whole thing again in reverse.

Status Quo

Traditional approaches to the 'waste' problem has been to create a launch vehicle that is as reusable as possible - the space shuttle, for example. This comes with its own array of problems. A relatively dumb rocket, like SpaceX's Falcon 9, is far less complex and far less heavy.

We've looked at the 'weight' problem in much the same way. When men landed on the Moon, only part of the Apollo spacecraft went with them. The lander, a small and weight-optimized craft, could detach itself from the larger command module. This approach, amongst other benefits, helps avoid having to carry all of your return fuel back from the surface of the moon.

A Solution

The following is one theorized solution to the problems outlined above. It uses proven technology that is both relatively uncomplicated and available to the commercial sector. It's my best guess as to what Elon Musk might envision.

Tractor

We've come a long way since the cold war. Traditionally, space propulsion involves towering behemoths guzzling vast amounts of fuel. Recently, however, another propulsion method has entered the mainstream. Ion thrusters are now standard issue on many spacecraft. They work by using electricity to eject a stream of particles from the vehicle at extremely high velocity. While they produce only minimal acceleration, they are capable of taking a craft to fantastic speeds over a longer period of time. Since their energy comes from electricity rather than chemical reactions, they only need a source of electricity - such as solar panels, RTG or nuclear reactor - and a relatively minuscule pool of matter to eject.

SpaceX could choose to launch a sort of 'space tractor' into Earth orbit. It would be launched with a power source and a fairly small tank of gas - not gasoline, but something like Xenon. The tractor would be capable of flying to and from Mars, but not entering the atmosphere of either. Since it would never leave space, it wouldn't require any massive and expensive heat shielding.

Trailer

Once the tractor is ready to go, it will need something to haul. Sent up in one or more separate launches, a reusable human habitat - including Mars lander - would be attached to the tractor. This would only need to be done once, and could be reused in every subsequent mission. For maximum efficiency, it would hold a fairly large number of people. It would be stocked with food and water. Since it's travelling through space, and assembled across several launches, it could be any size or shape imaginable - including being made from the cheap, inflatable materials being explored by Bigelow Aerospace.

Crew

With a habitat, lander and tractor, all we need is a crew. SpaceX's Dragon module has already been designed to transport humans, and in 15 years' time it'll be relatively cheap to get them up there. Once they reach the Mars vehicle, the Dragon module can remain in Earth orbit, waiting for the trip home.

Launch

The tractor, trailer and crew will begin their slow acceleration towards Mars. Within a few weeks, they will be going astonishingly fast despite consuming a tiny amount of fuel. Once they reach the center point, the craft will turn around and begin deceleration. Remember, they're accelerating or decelerating the entire time. The total trip may be far shorter than the equivalent rocket trip. It will also be smoother, meaning the craft will not need to be reinforced for the extreme vibrations of a rocket engine.

Landing

The lander portion of the craft will descend to Mars. It will have to take with it enough conventional rocket fuel to return to the tractor - ion engines are incapable of lifting a craft to orbit. It's likely that a Mars base will have been assembled and supplied during previous trips, further cutting down on the weight needed to be carried back up at the end of the excursion. This may even include the propellant and vehicle required to escape Mars's gravity well. This is probably the most complex part of the mission, since no commercial entity has yet explored another world (although they've spent a lot of time at the bottom of the sea). If unexpected expenses are to creep in, this will be the place.

Homeward Bound

The lander will head back to Earth under ion propulsion. After arrival in orbit, it will dock with the Dragon module, which will return its crew to Earth.

Re-use

This is key to reducing costs. Once all of this infrastructure is in place, it can be re-used countless times. The entire transportation assembly will last for years. Ion engines are fairly simple, and their few expendable components can be easily replaced. The Mars base will only need taking there once, and this can be done robotically. The only cost in taking further trips is in fuel (far less than normal), whatever parts of the Falcon rocket system are not reusable, and supplies.

As Musk says, the technology will have to reach maturity before it becomes affordable. There will be kinks to work out, and getting started will be expensive. Once we do, however, two worlds will be our oyster.

- Daniel Imrie-Situnayake

Often, and throughout life, things that seem to be a good idea turn out not to be. This is a pretty big problem for everyone on Earth.

In the business world, we have an effective weapon against this phenomenon - experimentation, coupled with metrics. We've built tools and concepts that make it possible to test out an idea before jumping all-in.

It's amazing, then, that faced with this familiar problem - and the tools with which it can be mitigated - the majority of individuals and organizations will still dive right in and make the usual mistakes.

I've heard a few theories:

Metrics and experimentation can hurt the egos of the people who are using them.

Established companies are unwilling to break from their waterfall design process.

Strong and effective leadership trumps experimentation every time.

The people don't really know what they want, so testing gives the wrong results.

Here's some unwarranted advice:

Your ego (or your designers' egos) might hurt, but it will hurt more when your company folds and everyone is hunting for a job.

If you find yourself within an organization resistant to experimenting, break off the smallest chunk you can and try your own. Gather as much feedback as you can on a minor piece of work, document your findings and watch for success. If you can show that you've improved something, people may start to listen.

You're not Steve Jobs, and it's quite likely that neither is your boss. You might find it a struggle, but start small and demonstrate effectiveness. Make them think it's their idea.

Don't test the wrong things. You shouldn't ask people directly what they think about your idea; build something cheaply, and watch them use it.

As a bonus, I'll remind you - this stuff works in real life, too.

Dan

There’s a special group of people who run the world, and have done for all of human history.

Some of them are public figures. In the limelight, they make moves that shake the world. Others are more shadowy; quietly tending and guiding our greatest engines of power. They are overrepresented in the upper strata of every single industry, every political institution and every facet of our society.

Chances are, you’ve met some of them. You may work for them, or under them. You may sit next to them on the train. In all likelihood, someone close to you is one of their number. They’re so woven into the fabric of our world that there’s no way to tell where they end and the rest of us begin.

They’ve no collective name, and they don’t share much in common. There’s only one way to describe them: People who do things.

On Thursday, a lot of people read about _why. They learned how he emerged as a shining star in the Ruby community; the bright little centre around which a community collected. He wrote books, built frameworks, produced art and gave speeches. A HN comment thread is full of people in awe of how someone can do so much with their limited time, then then drop it all and move on to their next life.

A lot of us are a like _why. Our minds wander, concocting schemes and assembling plans. In the shower, we explore our mental landscapes, seeing what can be cobbled together from the items strewn throughout. I’d go as far as saying that this is how humans work; it’s what makes us different from the other animals we’ve met.

Where _why and I diverge is the degree to which we act upon our schemes. On the bike ride home this evening, I formed a band. I pondered breeding the Pixies’ macabre take on surf-rock with a pulsing, electronic beat. Would anyone listen to that? Does it already exist? I thought about what it must feel like to figure out the next big thing, changing the landscape of music forever. Climbing the steps to my apartment, I opened the door and promptly forgot the whole thing.

Some people are mental rottweilers. They don’t let go that easy. They take hold of an idea; before they know it they’ve written a song, they’ve pulled some friends together to play it, they’ve found their first venue and they’re up on stage, perhaps not really knowing how they got there, playing music in front of a crowd. Doing things.

I’m sure you know what that’s like - the feeling that your past self has orchestrated some fantastic mess, the centre of which you now inhabit, bewildered and exhilarated. It’s great to be in over your head. It’s great to have put yourself there. The journey is easier for some of us than others.

I think, like all things, this ease comes with practice.

Paul Graham does things. His recent writing talks about it.

I had also been thinking about ways to work with Robert Morris and Trevor Blackwell again. A few hours before I had sent them an email trying to figure out what we could do together.

Even in the run-up to the main event, he’s planning on doing things.

Between Harvard Square and my house the idea gelled. We'd start our own investment firm and Jessica could work for that instead. As we turned onto Walker Street we decided to do it. I agreed to put $100k into the new fund and Jessica agreed to quit her job to work for it.

It’s obviously going to easier to do things when you’ve got $100k lying around, but it certainly doesn’t cost $100k to write a shitty knock-off Pixies song, and I didn’t do that this evening.

Over the next couple days I recruited Robert and Trevor, who put in another $50k each. So YC started with $200k.

Doing things is infectious. Once you start something, other people - perhaps those who have been wanting to do their own things but have not yet worked themselves up to it - will flock to you.

Here's a bittersweet truth. There’s variation in human talent, but it’s not that wide. The distance from genius to imbecile is less than we’d like to believe. Throughout our civilization, terribly smart people are doing unexciting things whilst mediocre talents receive disproportionate rewards.