A fresh take on the Buffett-Munger axis of genius

I’ve known Alex Morris for about five years. From the beginning, I’ve admired his work — his writing, his investment research, and perhaps most of all, his ability to stay relentlessly focused in a field that too often rewards distraction. Alex has always struck me as someone who plays the long game: careful in his thinking, measured in his conclusions, and deeply committed to extracting durable lessons from markets.

That’s why I was thrilled when he set out to write a book, Buffett and Munger Unscripted, about Warren Buffett and Charlie Munger, arguably the two greatest investors of our time.

Plenty of books have been written about them — volumes on their deals, their financial acumen, even their quirks of personality. But Alex’s approach is different. Rather than layering on his own theories or interpretations, he went back to the primary sources: decades of transcripts from the Berkshire Hathaway annual meetings, paired with the timeless lessons embedded in their shareholder letters.

What makes his book special is not just the synthesis of this material, but the clarity with which it reveals Buffett and Munger as more than investors. They were, above all, teachers — using plain language and sharp wit to help anyone, novice or professional, think more clearly about business, incentives, human behavior, and life itself.

Here is an edited transcript of our conversation.

Eric Markowitz: There’s been so much written about Warren Buffett and Charlie Munger. They’re embedded in the zeitgeist — especially in investing circles. What did you feel was missing from the existing literature?

Alex Morris: The most revealing insights have always come directly from Buffett and Munger themselves. What struck me was how their words reveal new lessons over time. As a novice, I’d read a line and take away something basic. Years later, I could return to the same line and see an entirely different layer of meaning. That’s rare. 

Try Big Think+ for your business

Engaging content on the skills that matter, taught by world-class experts.

Request a Demo

Their commentary goes well beyond investing — it touches on business, incentives, human behavior, and life itself. And because they repeated themes for decades, you can track how their thinking evolved. That was the gap I wanted to fill: bringing those conversations together in a way that let readers see the breadth of their wisdom.

Eric Markowitz: One of the things that fascinates me is how modern culture has drifted away from apprenticeship. Yet what you did, in some sense, was to apprentice yourself to Buffett and Munger — even from afar. Was that part of your motivation?

Alex Morris: Absolutely. Part of this project was selfish. I knew if I immersed myself deeply in their work, I’d become a better investor and thinker. I didn’t have the traditional apprenticeship — no senior partner sitting beside me, showing me the ropes. Instead, Buffett and Munger became my teachers.

I learned by reading their letters, listening to them speak, and then applying those lessons in my own writing and investing. Over time, that public practice became its own apprenticeship: Put your work out there, get feedback, refine it, repeat. That cycle has shaped me more than any formal training could have.

Eric Markowitz: Buffett often said he wanted to be remembered as a teacher. Why do you think public teaching was so central to their approach, when so many investors prefer secrecy?

Alex Morris: I think it was fundamental to Buffett’s identity. Teaching reinforced his reputation, of course, but it also served a larger purpose. Finance is full of bad incentives and outright exploitation. He used the platform of the Berkshire meetings to push back — to highlight the corrosive effects of high fees, or to make the case for index funds.

At a deeper level, I think he felt a responsibility to give ordinary people the tools to navigate markets wisely. The annual meeting became more than a corporate event; it was a classroom. Over time, those lessons extended well beyond finance into topics like tax policy, philanthropy, and even social issues.

Eric Markowitz: They were singularly focused on investing. But were there trade-offs? Do you think there were deficits in their lives?

Alex Morris: I can’t speak directly to their family relationships, but from biographies like The Snowball, it’s clear Buffett’s personal life was complicated. Only later in life did he seem to devote more energy to his children. Charlie, too, was famously blunt about wasted lives — he once said if all you did was shuffle pieces of paper for money, that was a poor use of time.

The lesson, for me, is balance. To be great at something requires obsession, but obsession can also hollow out other parts of life. I try to structure my work now so it doesn’t consume everything—so there’s still time for family, friendships, and pursuits outside investing. Buffett and Munger’s brilliance is undeniable, but their example also shows what not to do.

Eric Markowitz: Many people want mastery in their fields. From your study of Buffett and Munger, what advice would you give?

Alex Morris: Practice relentlessly, and do it in public. Writing has been my vehicle: research, form insights, publish, receive feedback, repeat. That loop — imperfect at first, refined over years — builds skill.

And second, don’t just ask for mentorship — provide value. Buffett and Munger exemplified this by sharing their own work freely. In the same way, if you contribute something useful to the world, people will respond. Authenticity and generosity attract teachers far more than extraction does.

Eric Markowitz: One theme I see across enduring companies is relentless focus. They resist the temptation to expand into everything. In our world, though, scale is celebrated. How do you reconcile focus with the pressure to grow?

Alex Morris: From the beginning, I made a bet on quality over scale in my own business, The Science of Hitting, an investment research service. I never aimed for 100,000 subscribers. I wanted the right readers — the thousand true fans, as Kevin Kelly put it. That shaped everything: pricing, cadence, consistency.

Yes, growth is tempting — launching podcasts, videos, new products — but every expansion dilutes focus. Buffett and Munger taught that endurance often comes from saying “no.” They weren’t empire builders in the traditional sense; they acquired selectively, avoided bad businesses, and stuck to principles. For me, it’s the same: better to serve a smaller, dedicated community with integrity than to chase scale at the expense of quality.

Eric Markowitz: Berkshire Hathaway became more than a company — it became a community. Do you see parallels in your own work?

Alex Morris: Yes. When I started writing, I thought of it as a solitary practice. Over time, it’s become deeply communal. I’ve built friendships with other investors, with subscribers, with peers I talk to daily.

That mirrors Berkshire in a smaller way. The annual meetings are a gathering of people who share values, who wanted to learn together. Community compounds. It makes the work more enjoyable, and I believe it also makes you a better investor.

Eric Markowitz: Much of modern investing discourse is chest-beating. But one of the things that stands out about Buffett and Munger — and, I’d argue, your approach — is authenticity. How important is that?

Alex Morris: Critical. They admitted mistakes. They were transparent about failures. That honesty built trust. For me, authenticity means writing openly — even when I’m wrong. I’ve published post-mortems on mistakes like Spotify. Those essays are uncomfortable, but they build credibility with readers. And they reflect reality: no investor is right all the time. Over the long run, transparency compounds into trust, and trust is the foundation of any enduring business.

Eric Markowitz: You’ve studied why Buffett and Munger succeeded. But why do companies fail?

Alex Morris: At the simplest level: poor capital allocation and bad incentives. Prices get detached from reality, leaders make destructive decisions, cultures decay. Buffett preferred situations where capital allocation was clear from the outset — PetroChina with its dividend policy, Apple with its buyback strategy. Or wholly owned businesses where Berkshire could set incentives directly. Because people make decisions, and incentives drive behavior. Culture, in the long run, is destiny.

Most companies stumble because leadership pursues the wrong goals — growth for growth’s sake, short-term gains at long-term cost. The contrast with Berkshire is stark: stability, patience, and alignment of incentives.

Eric Markowitz: If you had to distill one lesson from Buffett and Munger to pass along to your own children, what would it be?

Alex Morris: Avoid stupidity. Avoid the first step on a bad path. It applies to life — steering clear of destructive habits like gambling or addiction. It applies to business — avoiding bad deals, bad leverage, bad incentives.

So much of success isn’t about brilliance. It’s about avoiding unforced errors. Buffett and Munger built careers on discipline and restraint—waiting for the fat pitch, resisting fads, preserving optionality. That mindset is immensely powerful.

Eric Markowitz: Underneath all of this, I sense a through-line of optimism. Do you agree?

Alex Morris: Definitely. They were disciplined realists, but also optimists. They believed in progress, in the compounding power of good decisions, in America’s potential. That combination — skeptical of nonsense but optimistic about the future — is part of why they endured.

Optimism without discipline is dangerous. Discipline without optimism is paralyzing. Buffett and Munger managed to hold both. That’s their greatest lesson.

Eric Markowitz: Closing thought?

Alex Morris: Buffett and Munger will be remembered as extraordinary investors. But their deeper legacy is how they lived the long game: teaching, discipline, focus, authenticity, community, and optimism. Their lessons extend far beyond finance. They offer a framework for building enduring businesses — and enduring lives.