Opinion The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com 4A — Thursday, October 10, 2019 Zack Blumberg Emily Considine Emma Chang Joel Danilewitz Emily Huhman Krystal Hur Ethan Kessler Magdalena Mihaylova Max Mittleman Timothy Spurlin Miles Stephenson Finn Storer Nicholas Tomaino Joel Weiner Erin White FINNTAN STORER Managing Editor Stanford Lipsey Student Publications Building 420 Maynard St. Ann Arbor, MI 48109 tothedaily@michigandaily.com Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890. MAYA GOLDMAN Editor in Chief MAGDALENA MIHAYLOVA AND JOEL DANILEWITZ Editorial Page Editors Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of The Daily’s Editorial Board. All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors. EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS T he We Company (formerly known as WeWork), a massive coworking and office space company, was once the honor of Softbank. Softbank is a Japanese conglomerate that has been making a name for itself via massive investments either directly or from its subsidiary, the Vision Fund. We represented years of work and development and was one of two shining jewels in Softbank’s crown — the other, of course, being Uber. All of the good press and positivity culminated in an eye-popping $47 billion valuation for We that recently fell so fast and hard that their IPO was temporarily pulled. Valuations are meant to be based on numbers and We shouldn’t have fallen as quickly as it did, but the downfall might have demonstrated that it was the end of an era. We’s $47 billion valuation is big, but it is not out of the norm. In May 2019, Uber was valued at $82 billion at their IPO and in March 2019 Lyft was at $24.3 billion during their IPO. In addition, DoorDash is planning to go public with a valuation of $12.6 billion in 2020. Each of these four companies shares a few traits that made these valuations especially noteworthy. A big one is a lack of profitability. Uber reported a $5 billion dollar loss during their second earnings report, Lyft lost $644.2 million during that same period, DoorDash was still not profitable, and finally, We lost $900 million during the first six months of 2019. So why then were these companies’ valuations so high if not for their profit and loss statements? Could it be the assets they held? Not quite, since Uber, Lyft and DoorDash don’t really have many assets. People drive their own cars for Uber, Lyft and DoorDash — they do not drive cars owned by those companies. Along these lines, We does not own all of its real estate. The valuations were neither based on cash flow nor assets, so what then could it be? The real answer lies in a deeper issue with venture capital today — companies that primarily use software are getting treated as software companies, which is having incredible ramifications on their valuations. A similarity between these startups and software companies is that software companies often run big losses at the start but eventually turn profitable because the marginal cost is close to zero and products can scale very efficiently. This is not quite true with Uber, Lyft, DoorDash or We. None of these companies can scale like software. Nor can the cost be that low, because the constraints for them are fundamentally different. Uber, Lyft and DoorDash are constrained by the amount of people who can and want to perform the service, and We is constrained by the fact that they are unable to buy more buildings because the marginal cost for skyscrapers is not one that typically trends downwards — there is no two-for-three special on Empire State Buildings. We’s entire business model is based on acquiring real estate to turn into coworking spaces. That well eventually runs dry though, and the marginal cost never falls off. This problem has been compounded by the fact that a lot of successful startups (especially in Silicon Valley) have been software companies. As a result, when software is key to a company’s bottom line, investors are more interested in helping to secure funding because they feel that the valuation could rocket up. The crucial difference is that while all of these companies use software, some are actually companies whose bottom line is dependent on software (Snapchat App, Facebook Website and Instagram App) and some are companies that merely use software. They make their money off of car rides, deliveries or rentable office space. So, where does We go from here and what does this mean for the wider field of startups? We is probably not a $47 billion company, and most startups are not either. In the future, more attention should be paid to these things prior to filing a security registry form, also known as an S-1. Does this mean that the idea behind We — coworking — is done? It’s doubtful. Coworking will still be a lucrative market as more and more companies eschew modern offices and embrace working from home. Regarding startups more broadly, this is a time for a conversation to understand why companies should be valued the way they are and what that value is really based on. If it is based on lots of growth, with a very slight potential for profitability, then obviously the system is in need of being reworked. If the We saga can lead to venture capitalists rethinking some of their strategies with regard to investing and valuation, perhaps We’re not so screwed after all. How did We get here and what’s next? SAMANTHA SZUHAJ | COLUMN Choosing yourself isn’t selfish ANIK JOSHI | COLUMN I constantly face this internal dilemma: Should I do what is easiest, or should I do what is best for me? This school year has presented me with numerous situations of differing gravity with the common thread of internal conflict. Should I spend time with my friends that I have not seen recently, or should I take time to unwind alone? Should I say yes to something just because I know people will be disappointed if I don’t, or should I do what would be the more suitable option for myself? Should I act in the interests of others all of the time, or should I consider my own feelings more heavily? I know some of the answers to these hypotheticals seem self-explanatory, but as someone who, like most, would rather entirely refrain from saying or doing something that upsets or disappoints someone, these situations pose genuine internal back- and-forth. If college has taught me anything, it’s that there is a beauty and a sense of maturity in determining that sometimes the decision that may not be popular or expected may be the best decision in the long run. I have and continue to struggle with accepting the fact that, sometimes, it is OK to put yourself first, even if it feels strange or will incur judgement. An April Medium article critiques the construct of selfishness. It states that being selfish is conversely selfless. Putting yourself first, it argues, will in turn generate more positive personal outcomes, which will benefit the lives of those around you. This is a complete paradigm shift from everything we have been told. But is it true? There is a societal stigma around putting yourself first that is synonymous with blatant disregard for others. Putting yourself first can be frowned upon, and we are socialized to think in this way early in life. I can vividly remember my parents and teachers reinforcing the concept that we should put others before ourselves and to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes before we make a decision, and I know this was not a unique experience. These are all poignant considerations, and I, by no means, want to disregard or devalue them. I believe each of us should go through these thought processes intentionally and thoughtfully. Yet I also believe that there is value in prioritizing your own well- being. It seems like an obvious conclusion to reach, but I know that so many of us struggle to make decisions that may be personally beneficial due to a variety of factors — including, but not limited to, appeasing other’s feelings, pressure from friends or family, or pressure from ourselves. I am guilty of this. I go places, watch speakers or attend events, just because I expect myself to, even if I genuinely have little interest in the matter. With that, as this year ramps up, and I find myself running from one thing to the next, I am going to try and carve out more time for me. It could be as simple as giving myself a break to watch a show or go to bed an hour earlier one night. I think we could all do a little bit of the same. It’s funny that the concept of prioritizing yourself can be seen as selfish, but picking to go to bed early over going to something that you feel obligated to attend just because, may make you overall just a happier human being. We have culturally shifted into a dialogue that sometimes neglects the importance of self-care and internal reflection so to ensure that others are appeased or that we are keeping up an image or persona that we have become accustomed to maintaining. I think we need to start moving away from those compulsions as a means to be a generally more fulfilled society. I am not advocating for cruelty or a general disregard toward others. Instead, I am advocating for your internal dialogue as a compass for your decision-making instead of what society expects or what those around you want. Start doing more for you, even if it may be tough. I know I am going to try. Samantha Szuhaj can be reached at szuhajs@umich.edu. Anik Joshi can be reached at anikj@umich.edu. CONTRIBUTE TO THE CONVERSATION Readers are encouraged to submit letters to the editor and op-eds. Letters should be fewer than 300 words while op-eds should be 550 to 850 words. Send the writer’s full name and University affiliation to tothedaily@michigandaily.com. JOIN EDITBOARD Join The Michigan Daily! Come to Editboard meetings Monday and Wednesday from 7:15 to 8:45 at the Newsroom, 420 Maynard St. Engage in discourse about important issues and become a journalist! MARY ROLFES | COLUMN Saturdays aren’t just for the boys W hen I visited Boston during the 2018 World Series, I had one objective in mind: to celebrate. I had heard legendary stories of the city’s post-win celebrations and had sort of taken part in one after the Patriots’ 2017 Super Bowl comeback, being a freshman at a Boston-area college at the time. As the Red Sox came inning by inning closer to claiming the title, my excitement at the prospect of an after-party grew. But by paying attention to the game and only the game, I failed to notice the signs that this celebration wouldn’t be nearly as legendary as I was hoping — at least, not for me. After the final out, my friends and I headed to Boston Common, the city’s central public park, in an effort to join the city-wide celebration. When I arrived, what I discovered was not a welcoming celebration but an overgrown boys’ club. The gathering was dominated by college-aged men chanting insults at one another, acting physically aggressive and vandalizing public property – and, of course, there was the unmissable presence of several red, white and blue flags proclaiming in all capital letters, “Saturdays are for the boys.” This was not a celebration for the Red Sox or even the city. This was a demonstration of hegemonic masculinity and its ability to dominate every possible public space and exclude those unwilling or unable to join in. And it was perpetuated, in part, by social media. Fan groups have the potential to bring a community together. They can facilitate community initiatives, raise awareness and have even helped a city heal from tragedy. This unifying ability is certainly present at the University of Michigan, home to the biggest stadium in the U.S. Unfortunately, sports- fan culture in the United States is entrenched in toxic ideas of masculinity. While this has been true for decades, the inception of social media has significantly increased the pervasiveness of misogyny by providing an outlet for the widespread manifestation of these aggressive and sexist practices. By utilizing their platforms to normalize and celebrate sexism, infighting and outright violence in athletics, sports social media tends to highlight the worst aspects of fan culture, dividing communities rather than uniting them. By reconsidering the impact these platforms have on our culture, and especially on our campus, we can support a more positive social media presence surrounding our teams and embrace fan culture as the welcoming, community- building environment it has the potential to be. Social media has given us the ability to connect with others, spread ideas and create a more connected global community. Unfortunately, its impacts do have some downsides, and many social media outlets have served as a platform for perpetuating toxic attitudes, including those surrounding college athletics. One culprit is especially relevant to our campus: Barstool Sports. Barstool was launched in 2003 by U-M alum Dave Portnoy. Since its founding, the site and its many affiliates have gained significant social media influence, posting content related to sports and college culture with a consistently misogynistic undertone. Portnoy has been a controversial figure in sports media. While some have praised him for his dedication to “unabashed masculinity” and anti-politically correct comedy, these qualities have drawn heavy criticism from others. For many years, he has been the embodiment of problematic behaviors in sports fan culture. He is vocally anti-union, claiming on Twitter that he would fire any employee who dared to consider the possibility of unionizing. This statement caught the attention of U.S. Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, D-N.Y., as Portnoy’s anti-union threats are a violation of national labor laws. Not even two weeks later, he had a few choice words — well, one especially sexist choice word — in reaction to Andrew Luck’s retirement announcement. Portnoy’s problematic attitude is not isolated, either. This aggression and sexism pervades Barstool Sports and its affiliates. On the main site, Sex Scandal Teachers is a recurring segment in which women charged with sexually assaulting minors are “graded” based on their looks and morals, using language that blames victims and trivializes sexual abuse. Barstool’s affiliates — many of which are crafted for specific colleges — often engage in sharing similarly misogynistic content. This includes their “Smokeshow” series in which female college students are evaluated based on their adherence to traditional beauty standards, representing the prevalence of the male gaze in college sports culture and implying those who don’t meet their standards are not welcome. Their ethos of “Saturdays are for the boys” is a summation of real, dangerous attitudes about who does and who doesn’t belong on gameday. As students at a university with a massive presence in collegiate athletics, it is important to consider the impacts these attitudes have on our campus community and on college sports. This isn’t necessarily a mandate to boycott Barstool — after all, what would we do without #GoodBoyFriday? But consider calling them out when they use their platform to spread hateful, demeaning messages. Barstool has a significant influence in college culture, including on our campus — Barstool Blue, U-M’s affiliate, has over 50,000 followers on Instagram and another 33,000 on Twitter. By holding these outlets to higher standards, we can set an example for canceling out the aggressive, toxic aspects of the fan culture of collegiate sports in favor of creating an environment welcoming to everyone. While it may seem these masculine ideals are embedded within the institution of sport, they are perpetuated in large part by individual actions — which means individuals also have the capability to combat them. It’s almost impossible not to root for Michigan — The Killers themselves have even said so. When we belt out “Mr. Brightside,” let’s do it in a place where everyone feels welcome to join in. Mary Rolfes can be reached at morolfes@umich.edu. Sports-fan culture in the U.S. is entrenched in toxic ideas of masculinity SAMANTHA SZUHAJ What does this mean for the wider field of startups? ANIK JOSHI Sometimes, it is OK to put yourself first, even if it feels strange