 I had a lovely day yesterday. When my wife and I are here, we own a small batch in Golden Bay. When we drive to the Nelson Airport to come to Auckland, we go through the small town of Motueka. And in Motueka is a wonderful company that I discovered accidentally four or five years ago, and it's called WA Coppins. And they are a handful of people, and yet they are the best company on earth at making sea anchors. And not sea anchors, which they do for parasailing and so on, but they just landed a big contract with the government of Norway. Suppose you're out at an oil platform in the messy North Sea and a tanker goes bust, the engine goes bust, it's drifting towards shore, we want to stop it from drifting. You do that with a monster sea anchor. This little technical company in tiny Motueka beat out seven international giants, has got a multi-million dollar contract with the government of Norway to provide these things. I believe that it's not software and it's not biotechnology, but it is seriously sophisticated technological work. And I think you can do that on a global basis. They are part of the global community. They compete against global companies. They land contracts with our United States Navy and so on. And so being a global player and part of the global scene is not limited to big companies in any way, shape or form. It is as available to Kiwis as it is effectively to Americans. And it's about the notion of specialness and being very, very good at something. That's not in short supply. Where did the ideas come from? At some level, they were a textile company, I believe. It was started in 1895. So they've known something about fabrics for well over 100 years. It's a long way from a textile in 1895 to a sea anchor in the middle of the North Sea that's saving environmental damage on the Norwegian coast. But as I say, those are the places that excite me. They are as Kiwi available as they are American available. In the United States, I live in Vermont, which is the 50th most populated state in the United States, which means we're right at the bottom of the heap. I have spent 35 years in Silicon Valley, but I've now spent 25 years in Vermont. And I am surrounded primarily by dairy farmers. And in my experience, and I don't want to romanticize things in New Zealand or at home, there could not be a craftier or more inventive set of people in the world than the small farmer. There are million reasons the small farmers don't make out any money and there are million reasons that their kids leave and so on and so forth. But the notion of clever inventive people is from that sort of background. I mean, I know that's not Auckland, but it is available to the average Kiwi. Was there serendipity in this? Oh, there's serendipity in everything. People need to spark off of other people. I'm here today under the auspices of the Auckland business school and creating centers, physical centers, where people with ideas hang out, with other people with ideas and get support from the business community, for example, as mentors. That's great. Though I would argue back to my small business bias that the best mentor for someone doing a startup is not somebody who's a middle manager at a big company, but it's somebody in a small company that may be in a totally unrelated industry that's gone through the process of starting a business, growing a business, finding finance, not bank finance, but some finance. And, of course, today you have all the magical things such as crowdsourcing where somebody in Motawaka, should they be interested with a cool idea that they can present in a cool way on the internet, could wake up tomorrow morning with $300,000 in their pocket. I think you could teach entrepreneurship to seven-year-olds a lot better than you could teach it to business students at either the Auckland business school or at my school, which was the Stanford business school. I mean, entrepreneurial stuff, let's call it lowercase e-entrepreneurial, which is organizing and putting on plays at the age of 10, putting together little newspapers, online newspapers. I mean, one of my, and I did get involved in this a little bit in New Zealand and a little bit at home, I would like to think, and I'm not being critical here because I don't know, but people tell me I'm not wrong, I would like to think that the most entrepreneurial, enthusiastic, energetic people were going into education and teaching six-year-olds and seven-year-olds. And I'm not saying that all American school teachers are tired and old, they are not, but it's just, if it's the national requirement, which in the age of new technology, I think it is. I mean, I'm just, I'll pound the table. I want the very best, the very brightest, the most energetic and the most entrepreneurial and the most enthusiastic. Please don't give me a career, but give me five years of teaching the seven-year-olds and the eight-year-olds and that's where you could teach entrepreneurship and I will almost guarantee you that. There's a woman by the name of Jane McGonagall who wrote a lovely book called Reality is Broken. And she said that, you know, relative to the issue of failure, the new generation of kids who've played video games understand failure. The only way you get from level five to level six on a video game is to make as many mistakes and that's not the right term, as many mistakes as rapidly as you can. So, you know, unlike when I was taught spelling and you got your hands wrapped if you misspelled a word, these kids spend their life failing. They spend their life failing. And it was a wonderful other thing she said which is so true and I've observed it and so on, kids don't play video games to win. They play video games for mastery. To make it from level three to level four to level five to level six to level seven, they're not tallying wins and losses. They're just chalking up those losses and trying to get to level seven before their buddy does or what have you. So at some level I think our teachers have, our young teachers in the early years have wonderful clay and let's support that.