Not long ago, there was this massive TikTok craze on sea shanties. And while I don’t have a TikTok account, the ripple effects have reached me as well. What started as a shower thought after a founder recommended I gamify my advice to founders fundraising, well… turned into this. To the tune of Soon May the Wellerman Come:
There once was a team that put to sea The name of that team was Friends ‘N Me The winds blew hard, but growth tipped up O’, burn that midnight oil (huh)
Soon may the investor fund To bring us money and help and some One day, when the term sheet’s done We’ll take the dough to grow
She had not been two years from start When push became the pull we sought The founder called all hands and wrought The product to scale now (huh)
Soon may the investor fund To bring us money and help and some One day, when the term sheet’s done We’ll take the dough to grow
The servers’ now a right real mess We had to call the AWS They had us pay for more bandwidth But that’s okay with us (huh)
Soon may the investor fund To bring us money and help and some One day, when the term sheet’s done We’ll take the dough to grow
We’ve tripled our growth last year, oh yus With dollar retention as one cause When we were asked what it was We said ’twas one twenty (huh)
Soon may the investor fund To bring us money and help and some One day, when the term sheet’s done We’ll take the dough to grow
We’ve ten cust’mers that five of which Are referenceable you’ll find on pitch That one of which is kinda rich They’re paying hundy K (huh)
Soon may the investor fund To bring us money and help and some One day, when the term sheet’s done We’ll take the dough to grow
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
Ever since I started my career in VC, I’ve been trying to understand the concept of “intuition”. Yet, it wasn’t after I’d seen over 500 pitch decks and met over 100 founders before I began to have an inkling of what intuition meant. In fact, embarrassingly so, when I first started at SkyDeck, Berkeley’s startup accelerator, I thought every other startup I met was gonna be a winner. After all, it was rather rare that a founder wouldn’t be excited about their idea at the first meeting. I was told again and again by investors, one of the key drivers for a startup is the founder’s passion. I thought, well, the numbers might not be there yet. But with this founder’s excitement, they’ll get there eventually. And quickly, I mistook “hopefully” as “eventually”. Two words with very different meanings.
You don’t have to be a full-time investor to know that I was quite off the mark. I soon and quickly learned that passion can be faked, especially in the first meeting. And on that journey, I realized how important having a large and deep sample size was. Large, in the sense of number of founding teams I was meeting. Deep, in the sense of spending longer hours with these teams. Of course, realistically, I couldn’t spend more time with everyone I met, but that also meant I shouldn’t just spend half an hour with them and call it a day. My general rule of thumb became I was going to meet every founder at least twice, and at least a week apart. This gave me:
Time to cool my head from the excitement of the meeting
Am I more, less, or just as excited to meet them in meeting two as I was in meeting one?
If I were [insert my mentor’s name], would I do the deal? Why or why not?
Sometimes, it was really helpful to put myself in the shoes of someone’s who’s way more experienced than I am.
Time to approach the opportunity more analytically
Does it align with the macro trends I’ve seen?
Do they have some early semblance of product-market fit? Why can that be an early proxy for it?
Would I be a power user?
Is their origin story enough to compel them towards this idea for the next 7-10 years? Are they meant/”destined” to do this?
Would they be able to succeed without me? Without funding?
Is venture funding a path they need to take towards growth? What about equity crowdfunding? Bootstrapping? Reaching profitability via a tweak in their business model?
Of course, there were, are, and will be exceptions.
Alfred Chuang of Race Capital recently shared his “co-founder test”: “People asked me so well, how do you determine this is a company you want to invest in. In early stage, I say if this company I want to co-founded with, that I will, in any moment jump on my own two feet in the building, the company would have found this, I don’t do it. Wow. Right. That’s where the conviction come from. Right? This is the ultimate gut test, you don’t pass that gut test, you don’t do it. So I urge the founders on either side to say, Well, think of me as your co-founder. If you don’t think of me as a co-founder, don’t do the deal with me.”
I recently tuned into one of Basecamp‘s Jason Fried‘s latest interviews, in which he describes how he chooses to pursue projects based on feel. Particularly when he gets the goosebumps. Similar to him, and I’m sure many others, I regret far more of what I say yes to than what I say no to. It’s not that I jump in knowing I will regret my decision. In fact, I’m usually pretty sure I won’t. Nevertheless, in only a rare few circumstances, is it a full-body yes, as Tim Ferriss would call it. VCs, as with any investor or buyer, aren’t immune to buyer’s remorse.
When imagining what could go right – the greatest, most impactful possible upside, does it send happy chills down my spine? Am I riffing off their energy and actively throwing ideas out? Am I unconsciously trying to hit my limit on words per minute? If so…
Some investors call it intuition. Others call it conviction. I’m gonna need my own pretentious phrase. Let’s call it the goosebump test.
My goosebumps will undoubtedly evolve over time. It will react to new stimuli, based on my accumulated knowledge and experience. It will also learn from the scar tissue that will form in the future. While I will try to follow my goosebumps as much as I can, they will undoubtedly also fail me at times. Just like how I wouldn’t be as excited now by some of the startups that got me excited back at SkyDeck, I imagine there will be a healthy handful that I do now that my body will learn from in the future. And I will continue to do my best to codify my learnings and share my scar tissue for myself and on this blog over time.
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“Ego is about who is right. Truth is about what is right.” – Mike Maples Jr.
I distinctly remember reading this soundbite on page 64 years ago in Tim Ferriss‘ then-new book, Tribe of Mentors. With the recent string of world events over the past few months, I’m reminded once again of this line. It’s strange to think that our most available mentors come in the form of books. Yet, every time I realize this fact, I seem to stumble upon another Eureka moment.
I was a passively-rebellious kid growing up. Though not often, there were times I would swing left when my parents said right. High school, on the other hand, did not make it any easier for my parents. As if puberty was not enough, in high school speech and debate, I learned to play the devil’s advocate on nearly everything. Frankly, it didn’t matter if they were right or not. And in more times than I am willing to admit, I found myself in trouble for not heeding my parents’ advice. Physically. But more often, emotionally. I was just emotionally antagonistic to my own wellbeing. Something I was unwilling to admit for quite a while.
We live in an era where many debates have spiraled down the path of: “If I’m right, you’re wrong” or “If I’m wrong, you’re right.” But most issues – and I might even be as bold as to say, all issues – are not nearly as binary. Debates have become arguments rather than conversations. We fail to realize great constructive conversations are never zero sum. Socratic discussions lead to nuance and a spectrum of colors that are dimensionally vast. Many of us have chosen what is the easiest for us to swallow in that moment. That soundbites resonate more than 3-hour debate. We’ve turned our attention towards ephemeral efficiency rather than robust literacy. At the same time, we need to balance complexity with simplicity. Sometimes, matters aren’t as complicated as we make them out to be. Other times, they are and possibly more so.
Someone I deeply respect once told me. “The quality of your words are determined not by what comes out of your mouth, but by how much reaches another person’s ears.” Oddly enough, we fail to use our senses in the proportions nature gave to us. Two ears. One mouth. Yet, we often act as if we have two mouths and one ear. And I am not immune to that fact.
Over the years, due to the accumulation of scar tissue, I’ve learned to abstract who from what they are saying. When I hear advice, opinions or even facts from someone I am emotionally aloof or antagonistic with, I ask myself, if someone I deeply respect said the exact same thing, would I still be as averse as I am now?
If still so, why? What are my underlying assumptions to oppose such a claim?
Similarly, if someone I deeply respect (even blindly so) says something I agree with too quickly, would this piece of advice hold the same gravitas if it came from someone with little social capital?
Of course, the above is much easier when my inner weather isn’t hormonally turbulent. But when it is, I breathe deeply thrice. And ask myself the question again. And if still turbulent, then I repeat until I’m ready to face my own ego.
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
I want to preface this piece by first saying, though I have LP (limited partner) friends, I’ve never been an LP. So take everything with a grain of salt. For that matter, even I have been an LP, still take this with a grain of salt. After all it’s just my one perspective on the world. Nevertheless, I hope this perspective helps to provide some context around the venture space. As it did for me.
For years, I’ve recommended my friends who were looking at startup job opportunities to think like a VC. And having chatted a number of firms over the years about scout, associate/analyst, venture partner roles, I’ve come to a new revelation. Or rather one that I’ve practiced for a while, but haven’t connected the dots until recently.
When you’re looking for VC job opportunities, think like an LP. I’ve written about the LP calculus a few times before, like:
The bull and bear case of rolling funds, and how the emerging fund manager can win in this saturated market
How have you thought about your own differentiation that gets you access to some of the uniquely fund-defining opportunities you have?
What are the startups in your anti-portfolio? And what have you learned since from them?
[if their funds are wildly different in fund size (i.e. Fund I – $20M, Fund II – $100M)] How do you think about fund strategy now versus Fund [t_now-1]?
For context, usually each subsequent fund doubles in size. i.e. Fund I $20M, Fund II $40-50M, Fund III $80-100M
[If they have fund advisors, EIRs, and/or scouts] How do you pick advisors? What is your mental model for picking scouts?
Or one of my favorite phrasings: How do you differentiate the good from the great [advisors/scouts]?
Over the weekend, my friend sent me a great podcast for me to unwind. In it, I found an unlikely hero soundbite. “Your library holds a lot of value that you may not know until the story arrives. […] No one’s selling characters ’cause they’re one story away from this character becoming a hit.” While its context is related to why Marvel won’t sell any of its superheroes, Alex Segura‘s, co-president of Archie Comic Publications, anecdote proves just as insightful to the world of venture.
Discovering first-time early-stage founders is hard. The same is true for finding the next killer GP or venture firm. AngelList’s Rolling Funds are democratizing access to capital, lowering the barrier to entry for emerging fund managers. And really the success of a fund is determined by its MOIC – multiple on invested capital. 5x and up would be ideal. And that, like I mentioned in my last blogpost, boils down to the fund’s top one or two winners. Loosely analogized to a fund’s unicorn rate (percent of portfolio that are unicorns). In other words, the “one [investment] away from this [fund] becoming a hit.”
To see if a fund can consistently find those stories boils down to its systems. Often times, you’re joining a fund that has yet to have a runaway success. Or a fund that has a fund returner. So, instead, you’re looking at their thesis and if their thesis allows them to be:
The best dollar on the cap table of a startup in their scope
Forward-thinking enough to see where the market is heading, rather than where it’s been
And by definition of being forward-thinking, taking bets/risks that few other VCs would, yet calculated enough to make logical sense given the trajectory of the market. In other words, is the thesis grounded on first principles, yet able to capture their second-order effects?
That, in turn, requires you as a VC applicant to have decent literacy in the market the firm is betting in.
As James Clear, author of Atomic Habits, wrote, “You do not rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems.” What are their mental models? Fund strategy? How do they think about portfolio construction? About capital allocation? And more importantly, time allocation?
If you’re looking to learn more about GP-LP dynamics, I highly recommend Samir Kaji’s Venture Unlocked podcast and Notation Capital’s Origins podcast.
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I’ve written about product-market fit on numerous occasions including in the context of metrics, pricing, PMF mindsets, just to name a few. And one of the leading ways to measure PMF is still NPS – the net promoter score. The question: On a scale of one to ten, how likely would you recommend this product to a friend?
As investors, while a lagging indicator, it’s a metric we expect founders to have their finger always on the pulse for their customers. Yet how often do investors measure their own NPS? How likely would you, the founder, recommend this fund/firm/partner(s) to your founder friend(s)?
Let’s look for a second from the investor side of the table…
Mike Maples Jr. of Floodgate pioneered the saying, “Your fund size is your strategy.” Your fund size determines your check size and what’s the minimum you need to return. For example, if you have a $10M pre-seed fund, you might be writing 20 $250K checks and have a 1:1 reserve ratio (aka 50% of your funds are for follow-on investments, like exercising your pro rata or round extensions). Equally so, to have a great multiple on invested capital (MOIC) of 5x, you need to return $50M. So if you have a 10% ownership target, you’re investing in companies valued around $2.5M. If two of your companies exit at $200M acquisition, you return $20M each, effectively quadrupling your fund. You only need a couple more exits to make that 5x for your LPs. And that’s discounting dilution.
On the flip side, if you have a $100M fund with a $2-3M check size and a 20% ownership target, you’re investing in $10-15M companies. Let’s say your shares dilute down to 10% by the time of a company’s exit. If they exit at unicorn status, aka $1B, you’ve only returned your fund. Nothing more, nothing less. Meaning you’ll have to chase either bigger exits, or more unicorns. But that’s hard to do. Even one of the best in the industry, Sequoia, has around a 5% unicorn rate. Or in other words, of every 20 companies Sequoia invests in, one is a unicorn. And that means they have really good deal flow. Y Combinator and SV Angel, who have a different fund strategy from Sequoia, sitting upstream, have around 1%.
Up to a $20m fund, there are are many ways to do 3x+
Up to a $60m fund, there are several ways
After $150m fund, there is probably 1 way
— Jason ✨Be Kind✨ Lemkin 🇮🇱 (@jasonlk) April 5, 2017
Why does a VC’s fund strategy matter to you as the founder?
A fund with a heavily diversified portfolio, like an angel’s or accelerator’s or participating investors (as opposed to leads), means they have less time and resources to allocate to each portfolio startup. The greater the portfolio size, the less help on average each startup team will get. That’s not to say you shouldn’t seek funding from funds with large AUMs (assets under management). One example is if you have an extremely passionate champion of your space/product at these large funds, I’d go with it.
I wrote late last year about founder-investor fit. And in it, I talk about Harry Hurst‘s check-size-to-helpfulness ratio (CS:H). In this ratio, you’re trying to maximize for helpfulness. Ideally, if the fund writes you a $1M check, they’re adding in $10M+ in additive value. And based on a fund’s strategy (i.e. lead investors vs not, $250K or $5M checks, scout programs or solo capitalist + advisory networks, etc.), it’ll determine how helpful they can be to you at the stage you need them.
If you were to plan out your next 18-24 months, take your top three priorities. And specifically, find investors that can help you address those. For example, if you’re looking for intros to potential companies in your sales pipeline and all a VC has to do is send a warm intro to their network/portfolio for you, bigger funds might be more useful. On the other hand, if you’re struggling to find a revenue model for your business, and you need more help than one-offs and quarterly board meetings, I’d look to work with an investor with a smaller portfolio or a solo capitalist. If you’re creating a brand new market, find someone with deep operating experience and domain expertise (even if it’s in an adjacent market), rather than a generalist fund.
While there’s no one-size-fits-all and there are exceptions, here are two ways I think about helpfulness, in other words, value adds:
The uncommon – Differentiators
The common – What everybody else is doing
The uncommon
Of course, this might be the more obvious of the pair. But you’d be surprised at how many founders overlook this when they’re actually fundraising. You want to work with investors that have key differentiators that you need at that stage of your company. By nature of being uncommon, there are million out there. But here are a few examples I’ve seen over the years:
Ability to build communities having built large followings
Content creation + following (i.e. blog, podcast, Clubhouse, etc.)
Getting in’s to top executives at Fortune 500 companies
Closing government contracts
Access/domain expertise on international markets
In-house production teams
They know how to hustle (i.e. Didn’t have a traditional path to VC, yet have some of the biggest and best LPs out there in their fund)
Ability to get you on the front page of NY Times, WSJ, or TechCrunch
Strong network of top executives looking for new opportunities (i.e. EIRs, XIRs)
Influencer network
Category leaders/definers (i.e. Li Jin on the passion economy, Ryan Hoover on communities)
Having all accelerator portfolio founder live under the same roof for the duration of the program (i.e. Wefunder’s XX Fund pre-pandemic)
Surprisingly, not as common as I thought, VCs that pick up your call “after hours”
The common
Packy McCormick, who writes this amazing blog called Not Boring, wrote in one of his pieces, “Here’s the hard thing about easy things: if everyone can do something, there’s no advantage to doing it, but you still have to do it anyway just to keep up.” Although Packy said it in context to founders, I believe the same is true for VCs. Which is probably why we’ve seen this proliferation of VCs claiming to be “founder-friendly” or “founder-first” in the past half decade. While it used to be a differentiator, it no longer is. Other things include:
Money, maybe follow-on investments
Access to the VC’s network (i.e. potential customers, advisors, etc.)
Access to the partner(s) experience
Intros to downstream investors
That said, if an investor is trying to cover all their bases, that is a strategy not to lose rather than a strategy to win, to quote the conversation I had with angel investor Alex Sok recently. As long as it doesn’t come at the expense of their key differentiator. At the same time, it’s important to understand that most VCs will not allocate the same time and energy to every founder in their portfolio. If they are, well, it might be worth reconsidering working with them. It’s great if you’re not a rock-star unicorn. Means you still get the attention and help that you might want. But if you are off to the races and looking to scale and build fast, you won’t get any more help and attention that you’re ‘prescribed’. If you’re winning, you probably want your investor to double down on you.
Even if you’re not, the best investors will still be around to be as helpful as they can, just in more limited spans of time.
Finding investor NPS
You can find CS:H, or investor NPS, out in a couple of ways:
The investors are already adding value to you and your company before investing. Uncommon, but it really gives you a good idea on their value.
You find out by asking portfolio founders during your diligence.
Your founder friends are highly recommending said investor to you.
Then there’s probably the best form of validation. I’ve shared this before, but I still think it’s one of the best indicators of investor NPS. Blake Robbins once quotedBrett deMarrais of Ludlow Ventures, “There is no greater compliment, as a VC, than when a founder you passed on — still sends you deal-flow and introductions.”
In closing
“How likely would you, the founder, recommend this fund/firm/partner(s) to your founder friend(s)?” is a great question to consider when fundraising. But I want to take it a step further. NPS is usually measured on a one to ten scale. But the numbering mechanic is rather nebulous. For instance, an 8/10 on my scale may not equal an 8/10 on your scale. So your net promoter score is more so a guesstimate of the true score. While any surveying question is more or less a guesstimate, I believe this question is more actionable than the above:
If you were to start a new company tomorrow, would you still want this investor on your cap table?
With three options:
No
Yes
It’s a no-brainer.
And if you get two or more “no-brainers”, particularly from (ex-)portfolio startups that fizzled off into obscurity, I’d be pretty excited to work with that investor.
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Over the past few weeks, a number of people have independently asked me, “What do you hope to accomplish with your social experiments?” And “What are you hoping to solve through your social experiments?”
Usually when people ask, I say things like, “Helping the world feel a little smaller, closer, and a whole lot more meaningful.” Or “Helping strangers become friends in minutes.” While it’s all true, I came to that conclusion after I started. Yet, the real reason I started was simply out of curiosity. I didn’t have an end goal in mind. I didn’t have a hypothesis I was trying to prove. Frankly, I just had a yearning knowing I’d find answers, but not knowing what kind of answers I would find.
For the longest time, I felt pressured to give a reason. Particularly, one that was results-oriented. In a world, where outcomes speak for themselves, I felt that a genesis starting from pure open-ended curiosity wasn’t enough. The reasons I gave were less for others, but more for myself. This self-inflicted feeling of inadequacy. Infinitesimally small, but still lurking around.
“Be curious about everything. All walks of life. Arts, and sciences, technology, and the humanities. That’s what Steve Jobs did. He had one foot in the arts, another foot in technology, and he did not make a distinction between those two. That’s what Leonardo’s Vitruvian Man is about. It’s a work of art, and it’s a work of science, and he didn’t make a distinction between those two. And for Jennifer Doudna, she doesn’t make a great distinction between the life sciences and the humanities. And by being curious about all things, she’s about to see the patterns in nature.”
It’s funny that it took a message from someone else for it to resonate, no matter how many times I’ve told myself the same message. While I can’t even begin to compare my selfish curiosity to the greats of Doudna, Jobs or Da Vinci, but like them, I start from a state of open inquiry. I, a humble traveler, merely enjoy the meandering adventure my curiosity leads me on. As my French high school teacher used to say to us all the time, “Bon voyage!”
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
For a number of friends and founders I’ve chatted this with, I’ve been a big fan of the concept of “winning versus not losing”. Ever since I heard back in 2018. In an interview with Tim Ferriss, Ann Miura-Ko of Floodgate said, “This is probably the hardest piece – knowing the difference between a winning strategy versus a strategy not to lose. […] Not losing often involves a lot of hedging. And when you feel that urge to hedge, you need to focus. You need to be offensive.”
There are a few great examples of what differentiates winning and not losing from both Tim and Ann in that interview. For instance, a lack of focus by going after two different market segments is a strategy not to lose. “The reason why that’s really hedging is you have two completely different ways of selling to those organizations and you’re afraid to pick one because maybe you have some revenue in both.”
My college friend recently connected me with entrepreneur, designer, angel investor, Alex Sok. Both of us found unlikely common ground in using sports analogies to relate to building a company. Me, swimming (e.g. here and here). Alex, football. Specifically, American football. Having been a quarterback for his school’s football team back in the day, he said something quite fascinating, “You can’t win in the first quarter, but you can lose in the first quarter.” And you know me, I had to double click on that.
I was previously under the assumption that you only needed a strategy to win, but not to lose. But as all generalizations that start with the word “only”, I was wrong. And Alex contextualized it for me – that sometimes you do need to think about how not to “lose”.
Winning versus not losing
“You can’t win in the first quarter, but you can lose in the first quarter.”
Throwing the ball deep for your running back to make the touchdown is a strategy to win. On the flip side, if you don’t convert on the third down, you’re going to lose. You may not win, but if you don’t, you could very much lose. Not all mistakes carry the same gravitas. Some mistakes can be detrimental; most mistakes aren’t. Just because you’re making sure that you convert on the third down does not mean you can’t still swing for the fences.
For founders, losing in the first quarter is akin to:
Burning through your seed funding in six months;
Hiring four professional executives before you get to product-market fit;
Not talking to your customers;
There is no one in the room who can tackle the biggest risk of the business (i.e. no engineer when you’re building an AI solution, or no one who can do sales when you’re an enterprise tech company)
You’re still aiming high, but that doesn’t mean you should burden yourself with an astronomical burn rate.
“Game plans will have to vary depending on your market or product. Key fundamental traits that increase the probability of failure will always be present. It’s important to identify which ones matter most in relation to the game plan,” says Alex. “A tough defense or go-to-market means being more focused on identifying which channels to pursue and then doubling down if it works out.”
On the flip side, “an aggressive defense or burgeoning industry might mean taking more chances but setting up plays wisely to take advantage of their aggressive, risk-taking nature. This will force the defense to settle down and play you more honestly. In startup terms, that might mean steady progress and growth with a few deep shots to achieve escape velocity from your competitors.”
Not to get forget about winning
You’ve probably heard of the saying, “If you want your company to truly scale, you have to do things that don’t scale.” Especially in the zero to one phase. From idea to product-market fit. Many of us in venture break down the early life cycle of a company by zero-to-one and one-to-infinity. The first “half” is doing things that don’t scale. Figuring out what frustrations your customers are going through. Getting that pedometer up on the street yourself. Daniel Kahneman wrote in his book Thinking, Fast and Slow, “Acquisition of skills requires a regular environment, an adequate opportunity to practice, and rapid and unequivocal feedback about the correctness of thoughts and actions.”
Here are a few examples:
In the early days of Airbnb, Brian, Joe, and Nathan used to visit early Airbnb hosts with a rented DSLR to photograph their houses.
For Stripe, the founders manually onboarded every merchant to deliver “instant” merchant accounts. Of course, the Collison brothers took it a step further to mint the term “Collison installation”. Usually when founders ask early leads “Will you try our beta?”, if people say yes, then they say, “Great, we’ll send you a link.” Rather, Patrick and John said, “Right then, give me your laptop” and set it up for them right then and there.
At Doordash, they found restaurant menu PDFs online, created landing pages, put their personal number out there for people to call, and personally executed deliveries within the day.
To get his first 2000 users, Ryan at Product Hunt wrote handcrafted emails to early users and reporters to grow what started off as an email list.
Similarly, in football, teams often spend the first half of the game feeling out their opponents. Their strengths, their weaknesses. And the back half, doubling down on where your opponents fall short on. While not your opponents, founders should be spending the first half feeling out their market. Be scrappy. Nothing that’ll make you lose in the first quarter, but make mistakes. Give your team and yourself a 10-20% error rate. One of your greatest superpowers as a small team is your ability to move fast. Use it to your advantage.
Paul Graham once wrote, “Tim Cook doesn’t send you a hand-written note after you buy a laptop. He can’t. But you can. That’s one advantage of being small: you can provide a level of service no big company can.”
In closing
Alex said, “In order to be a dominant offense, you have to force the defense to cover every inch of the field.” If you only throw long, then your opponents will only need to cover long. If you only throw to the left, they only have to cover left. But if you have a diversified strategy, your opponents will have to cover every inch of the field. And to win, all you need is for your opponents to hesitate for half a second. And with a laser-focused strategy, that’s all you need to break through against your incumbents. Your incumbents often have bigger teams, can attract more talent, have deeper pockets, and the list goes on.
As a small team, you’re on offense. You can’t cover every inch of the field, and neither do you need to. You just need to be a single running back who makes it past a wall of linebackers. To do that, you need focus. As Tim Ferriss recently said on the Starting Greatness podcast, “the biggest risk to your startup is your distraction.” And it’s not just you and your team, but also the investors you bring on. Sammy Abdullah of Blossom Street Ventures wrote that the question you need to be asking yourself about your investors is: “Are you going to distract me from running the business and will you be candid with me when I have a problem?”
Focus. If you’re focusing on everything, you’re focusing on nothing. You have no room to hesitate, but it’s exactly what you want your competitors to do. That half a second on the field is about two years in the venture world. Or until you can find your product-market fit. Until you reach scale. Until you reach the “one” in zero-to-one. ‘Cause once you’re there, you just need to put your head down and run. And it’s the beginning of something defensible. Of something you can win with.
If you’re curious about taking a deeper dive on product-market fit, I recommend checking out some of my other essays:
Thank you Alex for helping me with early drafts of this essay!
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An investor I had recently been put in touch with asked me this past Monday if I like to write. I thought it was a peculiar question at first. But it strangely kept gnawing at me as the week went on. While I can’t say for certain that it was that investor’s intention, it became a forcing function for me to reflect on my motivations.
If you’ll believe it, I used to hate writing. With a capital H. I used to dread when a teacher or professor would assign us essay prompts for homework. Many of my college and high school friends can probably attest to that fact. More so, I was the world’s best procrastinator. Ok, “best” might be overselling myself. But I had a track record for deferring my 10-/20-page essay until the night before it’s due. It was the antithesis of fun. I knew exactly what my professors sought. All I had to do was put the puzzle pieces together. Frankly, writing was a necessity to survive my academic career, not one I’d seek out as a passion.
It wasn’t always that way. In elementary school, I loved writing poetry. An exploration of my inner creativity, unrestrained by the educator’s whip. I also took part in school poetry competitions. As time went on, writing lost its sparkle, between book reports and persuasive essays.
Before this one, I started two other blogs. Neither of which lasted past three months. Both of which I started back in college. Looking back no one asked me to start a blog, much less three blogs. But looking back, I attribute each time I started a blog to the professors I had. Particularly by their rare ability to make learning fun and contagious. It was much less the content of each class, but rather, the fact that we graduated each class armed not with just answers, but with two other faculties I found indispensable over the years:
The ability to ask nuanced questions,
And the ability to find answers and questions to answer those questions.
My senior year in college I had a third catalyst for writing. As you guessed, also inspired by my professor for a class I didn’t have many expectations for when I signed up, despite hearing glowing reviews from my friends. That year I began writing in journals every day. There is no catch. There are no cheat days. We just had to ideate at least once every day. No matter how long or how short it took, once a day keeps the demons away. At the same time, outside of a promise of commitment, there were no rules. There were no rubrics. No one would grade us on how and what we wrote. Full, uncontrolled creative liberty.
It took me about three months. Slowly, but surely, the spark returned. Over time, journaling evolved into blogging. The best part is I don’t even know what the next stage of my Pokemon evolution will look like. I won’t go in depth here on how I journal these days, but if you’recurious…
Over the past year, I’ve had an increasing number of friends and readers reach out to me and ask me how writing comes so easily to me. It sure didn’t in the larger arch of my life. And not, it doesn’t… not always at least. Some days it takes longer than others. But just like how I wake up and exercise first thing in the morning, journaling is a muscle I am training every day, if not multiple times a day. Whether it’s in my journal or on my Google Keep app or on a Notion page.
That said, I think I’m far less coherent as a speaker than as a writer. I’ve had friends and mentors tell me over the years in conversation, “David, you’re not making any sense.” Unfortunately, in more occasions than I would like, I have a feeling of cognitive dissonance when speaking, which I am actively working to mend. After all, I can only hide behind the veil of asynchronicity for so long. Ironically, I’ve been engaging in more and deeper synchronous conversations than asynchronous over the course of the pandemic.
Luckily, I also haven’t gotten writer’s block yet ever since I began this blog. But there have been certain weeks where I’ve been frustrated at the quality of my journal entries. Enough so, that it never makes it onto this blog. So it goes to say, I never run out of ideas; I just sometimes run out of ideas I think are nuanced enough to share. After all, it’s why I started the #unfiltered series. George Orwell once said, “If people cannot write well, they cannot think well. And if they cannot think well, others will do their thinking for them.”
In closing
I never started this blog with the intention of tracking viewership growth. But I’d by lying if I said I wasn’t grateful and elated to see the reception of some of my essays. On days when readers reach out and say thank you, I really believe the sky’s the limit. When I reach out to people I look up to and they mention in our conversation that they enjoy the content I write, I struggle to contain my smile.
My swim coach once asked me semi-rhetorically, “David, why d’ya like to swim?” To which he followed up and said, “You like to swim because you’ve won.” While in terms of numbers I’m still far from “winning”, this modest scope of reception so far only compounds upon my creative joy.
When I pursue any endeavor in my life, I always ask myself: Are there skills, relationships, and/or enjoyment I build that transcend the pure outcome of this endeavor? (Or two cousins of this question here and here.) For this blog, yes. And it boils down to three reasons:
I write to think. It’s a process of self-discovery. On the flip side of the same token, it’s to prevent my prefrontal cortex from atrophying.
Creative joy. There’s something just so satisfying when a blank canvas turns into a cohesive illustration of my mind’s entropy.
And knowing that, no matter how miniscule, it’s inflected a handful of people’s lives upwards. That, and knowing that every so often, somebody out there will smile as they read this.
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
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In the venture world, the word timing is thrown around in a very canonical way. Many investors and founders mythologize the concept of timing around a business. While there is some science and data that might be able to point in the general direction, success is a lagging indicator of timing. And arguably, the only way anyone can really determine if the timing is right or not is in hindsight. Investors that said they knew the exact timing of the market may just be attributing their success to survivorship bias.
To analogize it, it’s the same as knowing when to invest in the market or in a particular stock. Everyone wants to buy at the lowest, sell at the highest. Your ROI is positively correlated with the sell price, and negatively correlated with the buy price. But when is the lowest? No one really knows for certain. We can guesstimate a timeframe with reasonable confidence, but that’s the best we can do. The same is true for measuring timing in the market. Yet there is one thing that I’ve come to learn in my years in the venture world that’s as close as you can get to the “true” timing of the market. A miracle.
Let me explain.
One miracle
Every startup needs one miracle to succeed. One. No more. No less. Elad Gil said in an interview with James Currier at nfx, “Every startup needs to have a single miracle… If your startup needs zero miracles to work, it probably isn’t a defensible startup. If your startup needs multiple miracles, it probably isn’t going to work.” He further elaborates, “If you have more than one, you have compounding small odds and that means you’re very, very likely to fail.”
Before that miracle, if you’re truly creating a revolutionary business, by definition, you’re in the non-consensus. You have more non-believers than you do believers. If it were an obvious business, then everyone would do it. If everyone does it, economically-speaking, the ROI is low. In a situation, where every kid sells lemonade with the exact same recipe by the street corner, everyone is fighting for the exact same customers. Eventually, it’ll lead to a race to the bottom.
That single miracle is going to be that trial by fire. The true test of grit and founder obsession. That trial, whenever it is, predictable or not, determines if your product will stay a niche idea (and possible fizzle into obscurity) or a business that will change the world. For you and your business, that miracle could have been catalyzed by the pandemic, the GME short squeeze, ’08 recession (if you’re an older business), the inauguration, or something yet to come. The question is: How do you respond in the face of adversity?
Why is that miracle important?
Tim Ferriss once said, “Your superpower is very often right next to your wound, like your biggest wound. […] They’re often two sides of the same coin.” If you can survive and conquer that trial, the miracle – your superpower – becomes one of your strongest moats. The lessons you learned, the trust you (re)built, and the legacy you begin to construct. Those lessons – those earned secrets – while not impervious, will ideally be incredibly hard to obtain for others without walking through fire. A metamorphic journey from a vulnerable caterpillar to a beautiful monarch. What Joseph Campbell calls the “hero’s journey“.
And in the longer time horizon, that you are no longer just the protagonist of that miracle, but that you are also a producer of miracles for others. You are then capable of minting miracles systematically. Be it your customers, your team members, and your investors.
Why #unfiltered?
You might be wondering why I tagged this essay as #unfiltered. Frankly, it’s a new unrefined hypothesis that I’ve been playing around with. While it’s been inspired by others, I believe there’s more nuance I still need to uncover as well. That I’ll need to test a bit more to see if it can be a more robust thesis.
Going forward, I will continue to ask founders questions like:
What is the origin story of this idea?
If you were to fail in 18 months, what would be the most likely reason why?
Conversely, if you were to wildly succeed in that same time frame, what would be the biggest contributor?
Why are you a different person today than when you started this business? Who/what catalyzed this/these change(s)?
Examples of who: customers, team, partners, investors
Examples of what: black swan events, market trends, socio-economic habits, new technologies, an inflection point in your life when you faced impossible odds, failures, etc.
But I’ll be particularly looking for the earned secret among a miracle of adversity. Simply put, I’m looking to hear this song play in the background. The beginning of a mythical legend in the making.
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
