History, by definition, is R=G. Last week, my Royal Enfield motorcycle took me down south to the ruins of Hampi, the capital of Vijayanagara that flourished 500 to 600 years ago in India and disappeared by the end of the 16th century. Walking amid the endless excavations, I noticed several marketplaces--empty and naked in stone. They were typically near a place of worship and aligned in a long, rectangular plot one next to the other. A hundred shops dotted these marketplaces.

Curious, I tried to find out what was sold and bought back then. Here's a quick list: corn, cotton, pulses, betel leaves, spices, salt, clarified butter, lamps, ebony, amber, rose petals, perfumes, porcelain, copper, quicksilver, rose water, horses, silk, precious gems, and gold. Man, that's more like a mall. Even horses? More than a mall. Stuff was imported from Persia, China, Palestine, Burma, Venice, and several other geographies.

Just for fun let's bring Hampi into context. Have you ever attended one of those inane consulting case interviews at b-schools? There's a company, the company has a problem, how will you solve...zzzzz. Why don't we do one of those?

Imagine that you are the CEO of a company from 500 years ago (around 1508), headquartered at Hampi (it's not really that far back considering that the earth is about 4.5 billion years old and India had its first babies 9,000 years ago). Your company makes perfumed oil from sandalwood that's sourced from your local area. Sales are stable. Your company is a market leader and has about 30% market share. But then your investors are pressurizing you to grow and expand. Your costs seem to keep going up because of material and labor. You sell your perfume in containers made of timber, whose price is also rising. A competing young company has recently introduced a rose-blended smell and other smells in containers made of porcelain. They are very popular with the Gen X crowd. You wonder where the other company is getting these newer perfumes and containers from. Even your wife likes them and calls your sandal smell boring. Your king calls on you every so often, encourages you to create more local jobs and to avoid outsourcing, offshoring, and other o-words. It makes you feel important that your company can influence your local economy. What should you and your company do?

I'll tell you what you'd do. You'd import a new rose "smell" from Palestine and air-tight porcelain bottles with a funky nozzle that you've always heard of from China. You'd hang out with the shipping vendors and figure when the next set of imported goods are due. You'd write to your Palestine trader and request it to send 10 "perfume makers," for which you'll pay them handsomely. Once you have your imported perfume guys, you'd sit with them and your R&D team and encourage them to mix, say, ginger with rose or some such concoction and come up with newer smells with more regularity. You'd go to your king and tell him, "Look, I want to increase local jobs, but we really need this outside help for us to survive and save our current jobs." You'd go to your investors and convince them to put in more money because you are confident that your new smells will be a big success in the marketplace. You'd sweet talk your wife into waiting and not buying that other perfume. You'd advertise with your customers, "Exotic new perfumes from Palestine in a Chinese container with a squirty nozzle." You'd consider selling your spicy new perfume in China as you hear that the population there is growing quickly.

Familiar scene? Welcome to the old world order of R=G. And by the way, to have your current business thrive for the next 500 years, you can read the book.