Don’t Argue. Build.

Don't argue on Twitter.

Build the future.

The hard way to gain status is to build something, to accomplish something, to add value. The easy way to gain status is to accuse someone else of being a bad person. It’s a status-acquisition hack, a quick way to gain relative status. Your critique of the existing system may be correct. But you need a product, not just a critique.

Don't argue about regulation. Build Uber. Don't argue about monetary policy. Build Bitcoin. Don't argue about anything; just build an alternative. Don't argue with words. Build products based on truths many people can't grasp. If it works, they'll buy it. Their incomprehension is your moat.

People talked about ideas like public choice theory, polycentric law, distributed order, and fiat currencies for many years. Then we built Airbnb, Uber, and Bitcoin, which gave people a short-term economic incentive to understand those ideas. Yes, we can create self-regulating environments. Yes, we can have money without the involvement of state actors.

Apple disrupted BlackBerry.

Netflix disrupted Blockbuster.

Amazon disrupted Barnes & Noble.

These weren’t turnaround projects. They weren’t attempts at reform. There was no baby in that bathwater.

When legacy institutions are beyond saving, build something better. And bury them.

The point of doing a startup is to build something you can't buy. Today money can't buy you a trip to Mars. Or a neural implant. Or a medical tricorder. In the not-too-distant past, money could not buy you a web browser, a search engine, or a smartphone. When the iPhone did not exist, people had to invent it.

I’ve got this idea: “Works in practice, not in theory.” So much stuff I saw as a scientist at Stanford worked in theory but not in practice. Many ideas are exactly the opposite. You can study some concepts only once you’ve actually built products.

Billionaires exist because they can code apps. Bill Gates coded Microsoft’s first BASIC interpreter. Larry Page and Sergey Brin built version one of Google. Mark Zuckerberg built version one of Facebook. Jack Dorsey built version one of Twitter. Drew Houston built version one of Dropbox. Garrett Camp built version one of Uber. Bobby Murphy built version one of Snapchat.

Of course, there's some poetic license here. Not all tech billionaires coded the first versions themselves. But they all had the ability to get a working app out. That is harder than it looks!

When trying to build something, many people who might otherwise have been caustic critics, supercilious scholars, or imperious bureaucrats suddenly learn how hard it is to build, manage people, and turn a profit—to be the one in the arena.

It is healthy for journalists to try their hand at seed investing, for professors to see what spinning out their IP actually entails, for scholars to try coding their ideal privacy policies, and for economists to actually contribute to GDP.

We are entering a golden age for builders. Consider open source, 3D printing, app stores, and crowdfunding. One person can de-risk, prototype, and accept payments from around the globe.

To influence the direction of tech, pick up a keyboard or put capital at risk. You can build something. Those who won't build will just preach. That keyboard is increasingly available to billions of people around the world. They have no illusions about the relative utility of preaching versus building.

The really cynical person and the really docile person have one thing in common: they never make bold moves.