
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


Got something to say to this podcast? Send a voicemail, and you might hear yourself on the next episode!
The original emblem of the Knights Templar shows two knights sharing one horse, because they were too poor to afford a second. In 1119 a French knight named Hugh de Payens and a handful of companions, nine in all, offered King Baldwin II of Jerusalem a monastic military order to protect pilgrims on the bandit-ridden road from Jaffa. Given quarters on the Temple Mount, they lived on donations until Bernard of Clairvaux championed them at the Council of Troyes in 1129. Gifts of land and silver poured in, and in 1139 Pope Innocent II freed the order from local laws and taxes, answerable only to the pope.
This episode separates the history from the legend. Individual knights owned nothing while the order amassed vineyards, fleets, and for a time the island of Cyprus, and its letters of credit let pilgrims travel without coin. Its heavy cavalry was feared from Montgisard to Ascalon. Then the Crusader states fell, and an army with no war and a vast treasury sat in the Europe of King Philip IV of France, who owed it money.
Got something to say to this podcast? Send a voicemail, and you might hear yourself on the next episode!
After World War II, Coca-Cola held 60 percent of the cola market. By the early 1980s that share had fallen under 24 percent, and younger drinkers preferred the sweeter taste of Pepsi. CEO Roberto Goizueta, who took over in 1980, declared there were no sacred cows, and a secret effort called Project Kansas produced a sweeter formula that beat Pepsi in blind taste tests, even in the loyal Southeast. On April 23, 1985, the company announced the change and stopped making the original. Within weeks it faced more than 40,000 angry letters and calls and a psychiatrist reporting that callers sounded as if a relative had died.
This episode explains why the data pointed one way and the public went the other. Sip tests reward sweetness that grows cloying over a full can, and blind cups strip away the red can, the script logo, and the memories that shape how a drink tastes. It also covers why selling both colas seemed impossible, how Pepsi gloated, and how the return of Coca-Cola Classic on July 11, 1985 sent sales soaring past Pepsi.
Got something to say to this podcast? Send a voicemail, and you might hear yourself on the next episode!
Before they wrote a line of commercial browser code, Jim Clark and Marc Andreessen drafted a 20-page pitch for an online gaming network for the Nintendo 64. When that fell through, they turned to the web. In April 1994 they founded Mosaic Communications, soon renamed Netscape after a trademark clash with the University of Illinois, and rebuilt a browser from scratch under the code name Mozilla, short for Mosaic killer. Netscape Navigator took 75 percent of the browser market in four months, and the August 1995 IPO valued a 16-month-old, unprofitable company at $2.9 billion.
That valuation woke Microsoft. This episode follows the browser war that came next: Internet Explorer bundled free into Windows 95, Netscape clinging to paid licenses while its software bloated, and the January 1998 decision to release its source code to the world. It also traces what outlived the company, from JavaScript, cookies, and SSL to the Mozilla project that produced Firefox, and the slow fade after AOL bought Netscape in a deal that closed at roughly $10 billion.
Got something to say to this podcast? Send a voicemail, and you might hear yourself on the next episode!
At its peak, one piece of software consumed 61 percent of external internet traffic on university campus networks. Napster launched in June 1999, created by Shawn Fanning and Sean Parker and named after Fanning's high school nickname. File sharing already existed on IRC, Usenet, and Hotline, but those tools were clunky and technical. Napster did one thing, MP3s, behind a simple search bar, and suddenly every dorm room had a free record store stocked with hits, bootlegs, and out of print rarities. It also had a fatal flaw: a central server that indexed every shared song.
This episode treats Napster's story as a biography: birth, a short and explosive life, legal execution, and a long zombie afterlife. The RIAA sued within six months, Metallica and Dr. Dre followed, and a court ruled that a company able to monitor its network was obliged to police it. By early July 2001 the network was dark. The brand then passed from Roxio to Best Buy to Rhapsody, on to virtual reality and Web3 owners, and finally to a 2026 shutdown of its music service in favor of an artificial intelligence relaunch.
Got something to say to this podcast? Send a voicemail, and you might hear yourself on the next episode!
The first known NFT sold for $4. In May 2014, artist Kevin McCoy and technologist Anil Dash registered a short pulsing video called Quantum on a blockchain during a live presentation in New York, calling the idea monetized graphics and hoping it would help digital artists get credit and payment. Seven years later the same concept produced a market with $17 billion in trading volume, a $69 million sale by Beeple at Christie's, and a piece by Pak called Merge that brought in over $91 million. By September 2023, researchers found 95 percent of NFT collections had fallen to zero monetary value.
This episode explains what buyers were really getting: a unique receipt on a public ledger, usually without copyright, closer to a certificate naming a star than to owning the star. It follows CryptoKitties clogging the Ethereum network in 2017, the ERC-721 standard that worked like a shipping container for digital goods, and the wash trading, plagiarism, and gamer revolt that soured the boom. It ends with what survives: quiet uses in ticketing, research funding, genetic data, and pharmaceutical supply chains.
Got something to say to this podcast? Send a voicemail, and you might hear yourself on the next episode!
MySpace began in August 2003 as a pragmatic copy of Friendster, built in just 10 days by employees of an internet marketing company called eUniverse. Written in ColdFusion instead of Java, it could add features at a blistering pace, and a mailing list of 20 million subscribers solved the empty room problem overnight. Its real hook was freedom: users could edit their pages with raw HTML, and teenagers turned profiles into glittering, chaotic expressions of identity. Bands uploaded MP3s, fans embedded the players, and careers like those of Arctic Monkeys, Lily Allen, and Taylor Swift took off.
Then came the money. News Corporation bought the site for $580 million in July 2005, and a three-year, $900 million advertising deal with Google locked the company into delivering staggering ad volumes. Pages froze under the weight of third-party ads, spam and malware spread, and users walked across the street to a cleaner Facebook. This episode follows the fall from a $12 billion valuation to a $35 million fire sale, a breach of almost 360 million accounts, and the loss of 12 years of uploaded history.
Got something to say to this podcast? Send a voicemail, and you might hear yourself on the next episode!
In late 1967 the New York Stock Exchange had 1,365 members, and exactly one of them was a woman. Muriel Siebert, known as Mickey, was born in Cleveland, Ohio in September 1928 and left Western Reserve University without a degree to care for her ill father. She moved to New York, learned the market from the ground up as an analyst of aviation and aerospace stocks, and founded Muriel Siebert and Company. Then she went after a seat that cost a near record $445,000, and nine men in a row refused to sponsor her.
This episode follows how she broke a perfect bureaucratic loop, then kept changing shape: defender of research-driven brokerage against discount rivals, New York's superintendent of banks during the turmoil of the late 1970s, Senate primary candidate, and head of a public company created through an unusual reverse merger. In her later years she argued for women and minorities in finance in the language Wall Street respects, competitive risk, and tied her firm's underwriting profits to charity.
Got something to say to this podcast? Send a voicemail, and you might hear yourself on the next episode!
A drop-proof phone case can make you more careless with your phone, and that small shift in behavior is the seed of one of the most debated ideas in economics. Moral hazard arises when someone takes on more risk because another party will bear the cost. This episode traces the term from 17th century insurance ledgers, where it meant outright fraud by a policyholder of bad character, to the 1960s, when economist Kenneth Arrow recast it as the rational, predictable result of shifting risk from one party to another.
From there the story scales up. Copays and deductibles turn out to be tools for keeping skin in the game, a response to the principal-agent problem and the hidden actions no insurer or employer can monitor. The 1998 rescue of Long-Term Capital Management, the so-called Greenspan put, and the private label mortgage machine of the 2000s show what happens when nobody in the chain holds the risk long enough to care. The episode also weighs the counterarguments: Lehman Brothers went bankrupt, executives lost fortunes, and flawed models may explain as much as bailout expectations.
Got something to say to this podcast? Send a voicemail, and you might hear yourself on the next episode!
In May 1984 a CBS control room descended into panic as a man in a thrift store shirt drained Press Your Luck of more than $100,000 without breaking a rule. This episode tells the story of Michael Larson, born in 1949 in Lebanon, Ohio, an air conditioning repairman and ice cream truck driver who spent his days watching a wall of 12 televisions for ways to get rich. Recording the show on a VCR and studying it frame by frame, he found that the supposedly random game board ran on just five patterns, and that two squares always paid cash plus an extra spin.
Larson spent his last money on a flight to Los Angeles and talked his way onto the show with a hard luck story. Then he held the board for spin after spin while executives searched the rulebook for a reason to stop him. His win became television folklore, but the instincts that beat the game wrecked the rest of his life. The winnings vanished into a Ponzi scheme and a bizarre radio contest gamble, and he ended his days as a fugitive from federal investigators.
Got something to say to this podcast? Send a voicemail, and you might hear yourself on the next episode!
In 1987 an advertising executive named Bob Bernstein was handed a solid gold replica of a cardboard box. The reason says everything about the Happy Meal: its real value was never the food. This episode begins in Guatemala in the mid 1970s, where franchise operator Yolanda Fernández de Cofiño bundled a hamburger, small fries, and a small sundae into the Menu Ronald to spare parents the chaos of feeding children from an adult menu. When the idea reached Bernstein in 1977, he turned a practical fix into entertainment sold directly to the child.
The box got families in the door, and the toy brought them back. Early trinkets gave way to collectible sets tied to films and franchises, a formula that produced Teenie Beanie Baby frenzies along with recalls and parental outrage. By the 2010s lawmakers blamed the toy for fueling childhood obesity, and the company answered with loopholes, apple slices, and a much mocked mascot. Its smartest move came last: selling the same nostalgia back to the grown children it first hooked.
From the publisher's feed
pplpod is a podcast about people, places and lots of other stuff. Each episode takes a deep dive into the lives, choices, and legacies of fascinating figures from history, culture,…
Thoughtful, engaging, and story-driven, pplpod explores what makes these lives extraordinary—and what we can learn from them today.