Because I'm a very visible guy, hanging out here at PBS Online, and because I've been around Silicon Valley for 21 years, people from all over the world keep writing to me for advice about how to succeed in high tech. On the surface this is laughable, because I'm just about the least successful person in the Valley. But over time I have come to accept the fact that while I can't seem to make any money of my own, I do have a growing sense of how others did it. Now, when some teenager from France or Russia or some 50 year-old electrical engineer from Bell Labs writes asking for success secrets, I give them out freely. Too bad these people generally don't believe me. Remember what Jung said about good advice: "It is a doubtful remedy but of not much harm since it does so little good." In other words, people ask for advice, then generally don't take it.

The secret of success in Silicon Valley isn't what you think it is. It's not being smarter than the other guy is or earlier to market than the other gal. It's not the depth of local technical talent arising first from Stanford and UC Berkeley, and then from the tech companies themselves as they reached critical mass. It's not the venture capitalists with their legendary bags of money that make this system work so well. It isn't the weather or the water or the sourdough bread. One thing alone is responsible for nearly every Silicon Valley success -- the willingness to fail.

It's our supreme ability and willingness to screw-up that's the secret of our success. And what's really funny about this phenomenon is that most of the entrepreneurs don't even know about it. They just aren't that introspective.

Ninety-five out of every 100 high tech startups fail. Most fail before a venture capitalist even knows they exist. And because so many startups fail, nearly every new company has someone on staff who has already failed, so it's not like the founders don't know it can happen. The specter of failure hangs over most startups like a pall and it hangs over the founders longer still. One reason why founders ultimately have to move on is because they sometimes have a hard time adapting to success.

Something keeps startup founders working despite the odds against them. But here's the other part of Silicon Valley success -- knowing when to stop struggling. There is nothing to be gained from continuing the struggle for its own sake. Struggles should be continued only as long as they have a possibility of succeeding. Then they should be abandoned without a look back. And that's the way it happens here. Companies push and push and push against the odds until they either succeed or it becomes apparent that all hope is lost. That's when the founders give up their dream, have a beer, then start looking for real jobs. They get plowed under like compost and use their hard-won (hard-lost?) experiences to fertilize the next new business.

In many senses high tech absolutely needs failure because it accelerates change and because the failures provide talent for the next round of startups. If every startup succeeded, there wouldn't be enough available labor, and the system would lock-up completely.

Fortunately, since everyone else has failed once or many times, there is no major stigma attached to it. Failed entrepreneurs are assumed to have learned something from the experience. In that sense, too, failure is a good thing.

Back in the 1950s, it can be argued that the richest man in the world was a Texas oilman named Sid Richardson, the bachelor uncle of today's ultra-rich Bass Brothers. Richardson made his fortune from West Texas crude and he owned a refinery in Midland, Texas. One day, a crane operator working on construction at the refinery swung the boom of his crane around and smashed into one of the catalytic cracking towers, knocking the tower clean over. There was a massive oil spill, the kind we'd really worry about today. But this was back in the days when DDT was good and oil was great. Still, the accident did cause more than $1 million in damage, and since the refinery was self-insured, that million came straight from Sid Richardson's pocket. When the catalytic cracking tower was knocked over, everyone had to come have a look, including Richardson. And when they had all shaken their heads and pointed at the destruction, Richardson finally said it was time to get back to work and he sent the crane operator back up to the cab of his crane. "You can't send him back to work on that crane!" the refinery manager shouted to Richardson. "The guy can't be trusted."

"Believe me," said Richardson, "he's not going to make that mistake again."

That's the way it is in Silicon Valley, too, where a little bit of failure is looked at as good seasoning. Just don't make the same mistake twice.

What I am talking around here is the true spirit of entrepreneurism, which has thoroughly infected this place more than anywhere else on Earth. These people are doing what they are doing not for the money but for the sheer joy of succeeding. Why else would so many people found company after company even after their own fortunes were secure? It's addictive. They don't need the money. They need the rush.

Look at Steve Jobs as he tries to turn around Apple Computer. What's the upside in this for Steve? He doesn't need the money. And while he appears to be very ably saving Apple from self-destruction, his chances of making Apple reclaim its greatness of a decade ago are just about nil. What's Steve's exit strategy? He doesn't have one, because this is a big game of ego, and has nothing at all to do with money or business reality. Steve Jobs is doing it for the thrill of doing it and for no other reason.

And speaking of those who are blissfully unwilling or unable to face reality, I have a new TV miniseries coming up next week on PBS. The show has nothing at all to do with computers or this column, but damn it, I'm going to write about it anyway. I believe the show does have a great deal to do with the spirit -- and the reality -- of entrepreneurism, however.

The miniseries is called "Plane Crazy," and while on the surface, it appears to be about aviation, it's really a show about failure and redemption. For three hours on the evening of July 22nd, most of you will be able to watch me go through the single most painful experience in my life that didn't involve being rejected by a woman. The middle hour of this show is so painful for me that I literally can't watch it. But I've got to admit that in some sadistic way it makes for very compelling television.

What the heck am I talking about? Well you'll just have to watch and see. But take it from me that you have probably never seen a television show quite like this before. It is a testament to PBS that they have the guts to run it. It's as if CBS produced a miniseries about Dan Rather called, "What's the Frequency, Kenneth?"

But like a good little entrepreneur, I learn from my mistakes on this show and become a better person for having experienced them. Still, knowing that doesn't make me want in this particular case to do it all over again. At least not for a few more years.

Watch the show and let me know what you think. As for me, that night, I'll be going to a movie.