Whimsley

I'm a fan of this old post (probably linked from Hacker News, actually, but I can't really remember)... http://whimsley.typepad.com/whimsley/2007/07/the-limitations.html ...that asks exactly how much better the experience will be for a particular customer if all this research results in a recommendation engine that's really 10% better than Cinematch. Undoubtedly the marketing value (to Netflix) of the challenge is incredible, and I don't question the reasonableness of their desire to eke satisfaction out of every potentially satisfied customer; but surely there's somewhere else in their business they could more easily improve their margin and their customers' experience. I, personally, use Netflix a bunch, and love the service. Furthermore, I love the fact that they sponsored this contest and provided a large research database to support it. I guess I'm just always a bit disappointed by breathless mainstream press coverage that doesn't discuss these other meta-contest questions. That and I wish I could somehow get Netflix to send me season 4 of Lost before season 5 starts.

If you have limited resources, go after data first and then algorithms. He could have used "GIGO" [0] to make it clearer. Anecdote: there are a few movies that completely muddy the statistics, e.g. Napoleon Dynamite [1]. More background [2]. [0] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Garbage_in,_garbage_out [1] http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0374900/ [2] http://whimsley.typepad.com/whimsley/2009/10/netflix-prize-was-the-nap…

This page, linked from the article, is also a nice read: http://whimsley.typepad.com/whimsley/2008/03/mr-googles-guid.html Whimsley Hall is now strewn, like Miss Haversham's house, with cobwebs and dust. Most visitors no longer come in by the front door to take a tour. Instead, Mr. Google (a travel agent who doubles as our butler) directs them straight down to the basement where the family archives are kept and tells them to look at one particular historical document called The Netflix Prize: 300 Days Later. They read this and then they walk right out.

Reminds me of a fun little post regarding Google: http://whimsley.typepad.com/whimsley/2008/03/mr-googles-guid.html Fun quote from the post: No (said Google). That's what I mean - you really don't understand. You see, I don't care if people come and look at these hen scratches or not. Maybe they will, maybe they won't. As long as I can sell a few advertisements on that page of my guidebook I really don't care. After all, what better praise for a Guidebook than to help people find out what's wrong with it? Just leave your manuscript with me. I'll look after it. He held out his hand, imperious now. I felt disheveled after my long night. My brain was spinning. I could see no alternative. In a vain attempt to maintain some self-respect I drew myself up to my full height and pulled back my shoulders, adopting a bearing appropriate for my class. "All right Google. Here you go. Don't lose it now." "Thank you sir. You can be sure I won't lose it. I never do lose anything you know." I turned away from him and stumbled down the stairs. I had ended up giving him an order, and he had accepted it. Yet I could not shake the impression, even as he brought me a glass of sherry that evening in my sitting room, placing the silver tray beside me with deference, that Mr. Google - far from being a butler and travel guide - was more a master than a servant.