Apologies to Hans Christian Andersen

Once upon a time there lived a vain CEO whose only worry in life was to get eyeballs and press. He changed webpages almost every hour and loved to show off his A/B tests to his users.

Word of the CEO's refined habits spread over the internet and beyond. Two hackers who had heard of the startup's vanity decided to take advantage of it. They introduced themselves at the gates of Silicon Valley with a scheme in mind.

"We are two very good hackers and after many years of research we have invented an extraordinary method to build software so light and portable that it looks invisible. As a matter of fact it is invisible to anyone who is too stupid and incompetent to appreciate its quality."

The chief of the developers heard the hacker's strange story and sent for the project lead. The project lead notified the CTO, who ran to the CEO and disclosed the incredible news. The CEO's curiosity got the better of him and he decided to see the two hackers.

"Besides being invisible, your Highness, this software will be refactored in colors and patterns created especially for you." The CEO gave the two men most of his Series A proceeds in exchange for their promise to begin working on the software immediately.

"Just tell us what you need to get started and we'll give it to you." The two hackers asked for 2 Macbook Pros, 2 32" monitors, a broadband connection and then pretended to begin working. The CEO thought he had spent his money quite well: in addition to getting new extraordinary software, he would discover which of his users were ignorant and incompetent. A few days later, he called the old and wise CTO, who was considered by everyone as a man with common sense.

"Go and see how the work is proceeding," the CEO told him, "and come back to let me know."

The CTO was welcomed by the two hackers.

"We're almost finished, but we need a lot more runway. Here, Excellency! Admire the colors, feel the user interface!" The old salt bent over the Macbook Pro and tried to see the website that was not there. He felt cold sweat on his forehead.

"I can't see anything," he thought. "If I see nothing, that means I'm stupid! Or, worse, incompetent!" If the CTO admitted that he didn't see anything, he would be discharged from his office before his options vested.

"What marvelous software," he said then. "I'll certainly tell the CEO." The two hackers rubbed their hands gleefully. They had almost made it. More funding was requested to finish the work.

Finally, the CEO received the announcement that the two hackers had come to collect all the specifications needed to build his new site.

"Come in," the CEO ordered. Even as they bowed, the two hackers pretended to be demoing a brand new framework.

"Here it is your Highness, the result of our labor," the hackers said. "We have worked night and day but, at last, the most beautiful framework in the world is ready for you. Look at the code and see how fine it is." Of course the Emperor did not see any code and could not find any framework on his hard drive. He panicked and felt like fainting. But luckily the Aeron chair was right behind him and he sat down. But when he realized that no one could know that he did not see the software, he felt better. Nobody could find out he was stupid and incompetent. And the CEO didn't know that everybody else around him thought and did the very same thing.

The farce continued as the two hackers had foreseen it. Once they had collected the specifications, the two began typing and mousing while inputting parameters into their invisible framework.

"Your Highness, you'll have to clear your cache to load your new website." The two hackers loaded the new software onto his site then opened the browser. The CEO was embarrassed but since none of his bystanders were, he felt relieved.

"Yes, this is a beautiful website and it looks very good," the CEO said trying to look comfortable. "You've done a fine job."

"Your Majesty," the CTO said, "we have a request for you. The users have found out about this extraordinary software and they are anxious to see it on the website." The CEO was doubtful showing his website naked to the users, but then he abandoned his fears. After all, no one would know about it except the ignorant and the incompetent.

"All right," he said. "I will grant the users this privilege." He summoned his PR person and the ceremonial press release was done. A group of Sand Hill Road dignitaries logged in to the dashboard and anxiously scrutinized the cookies of the users on the internet. All the users had gathered at 127.0.0.1, resetting and reloading to get a better look. An applause welcomed the regal soft launch. Everyone wanted to know how stupid or incompetent his or her neighbor was but, as the CEO promoted the new website, a strange murmur rose from cyberspace.

Everyone tweeted, followed enough for the others to see: "Look at the startup's new website. It's beautiful!"

"What a marvelous user interface!"

"And the colors! The colors of that beautiful theme! I have never seen anything like it in my life!" They all tried to conceal their disappointment at not being able to see the website, and since nobody was willing to admit his own stupidity and incompetence, they all behaved as the two hackers had predicted.

A blogger, however, who had no Facebook or twitter and could only see things as his eyes showed them to him, logged into the website.

"The website is naked," he said.

"Fool!" his publisher reprimanded, running after him. "Don't talk nonsense!" He grabbed the blogger's credentials and took them away. But the blogger's remark, which had been heard by the blogosphere, was repeated over and over again until everyone cried:

"The blogger is right! The website is naked! It's true!"

The CEO realized that the users were right but could not admit to that. He thought it better to continue the launch under the illusion that anyone who couldn't see his website was either stupid or incompetent. And he stood stiffly on his About Page, while behind him a CFO held his imaginary revenue.

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