#unfiltered #89 The Palate Setter

cheese

Around the time I wrote a blogpost on culinary tips I had amassed from various chefs, I ended up getting one more piece of advice from a James Beard award winner. The culinary equivalent of a Pulitzer. In fact, one piece of advice that came in right after I clicked publish on that blogpost. Which I subsequently failed to include.

I had asked, “How do you know the palate you come into the kitchen with today is the same as the one that you came in with yesterday? And similarly, what about the one tomorrow?”

To which he responded, “I don’t know.” For a brief second, there was silence. Both of us knowing that the void will be filled, but left there for dramatic effect. “Swiss cheese.”

“Huh?”

“Swiss cheese. Not the fancy stuff, the one you find in the refrigerated section in the supermarket. Every day, when I go into the kitchen, I take a bite of swiss cheese. To me, it has the perfect balance of umami, salt, nuttiness. And the supermarket brand one is always produced with a consistency in their quality. If my bite that day is not as salty, then my palate is muted, and I should salt my dishes that day a little more. And so on.”

And I found that fascinating. Recently, I was reminded of that advice when I was chatting with my friends on preparation rituals. When we start something, to get us in the right mindset, what is the set of practices in which we use to orient ourselves?

Back when I was still swimming competitively, we used to always say the hardest part about swimming is getting in the water. Effectively, starting. The below were some other rituals that came up in that conversation. Part in hopes that it may inspire you to start your own, partly to make sure that I immortalize these practices for myself.

The tuner in many ways is the swiss cheese in music. Something so consistent that it becomes the benchmark for what sound should be. Is your instrument too sharp or too flat?

But from a ritualistic perspective, I’ve seen many play the scales to loosen their fingers, but one of my favorites from my buddy who plays the flute in the orchestra is beatboxing, while playing the happy birthday song. The song choice itself matters less than using one’s entire mouth to enunciate certain beats. And so, by the end of the song, the windpipes and larynx are fully massaged and ready to go.

For me, it’s doing 20 burpees while listening to a collection of my favorite podcast clips that I’ve saved from other podcasters, then sitting down and skimming through this list of catchphrases that I’ve since called “The Rookie Guide for Veteran Podcasters.”

For another friend, who’s far more accomplished than I am on this front, it’s doing a series of vocal exercises and facial massages. The former of which expand in both pitch and volume (from a whisper to singing in a voice suited best for operas).

From a third friend, it was religiously taking a 1-hour nap about an hour before the recording session.

This isn’t from any of us in the room at the time. But Tim Ferriss has also gone on record sharing what he did in preparation for his first SXSW talk when we just launched the Four-Hour Workweek. That he was staying in a friend’s home who had cats. And he kept practicing his talk in front of the cats trying to get their attention. None of which, I assume, knew anything about what he was talking about, yet if he could convey his intent, energy and emotions through to the cat, he’d have a fighting chance getting the audience’s attention at SXSW.

Photo by Camille Brodard on Unsplash


#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!


The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.

#unfiltered #88 Koi No Yokan

love, heart

In a late night conversation with my high school friend last week, I picked up a fascinating Japanese phrase from her. Koi no yokan.

The best translation of it that I found was ‘the premonition of love.’ It serves as the antithesis to the notion of love at first sight. It’s love that takes time to grow on you. Slow, but steady. A seemingly acquired, yet inevitable sense of fate. It’s a feeling that begins when you meet someone you’ll eventually fall in love with.

It’s a remarkable concept with no direct English parallel. It sits in rarified air between words like hiraeth, hyggelig, and yÅ«gen. All of which have inextricable meaning behind a seemingly simplistic string of letters. While I’ll leave the afore-mentioned three to your own rabbit holes, as you might imagine, I’ve been having quite a field trip across the linguistic landscape.

Koi no yokan.

It’s a concept that’s often applied to the enamor between humans. This may just be me being a sacrilegious foreigner, but I find the same linguistic beauty with passions.

In many ways, my love for the emerging GP and LP world was the same. If you told me back in college, that I’d want to spend a few decades of my life obsessed over demystifying the space, I’d have called your bluff. Might have even called you bonkers.

And while I’d been hovering like a satellite around the space for a while, it wasn’t till I started writing The Non-Obvious Emerging LP Playbook that I realized there was an inkling of a yearning there. Answers only led to more questions. Each insight I learned was always paired with another punctuated with a question mark. And it honestly was a really fun exercise. I didn’t write that blogpost for anyone else. Just myself. Like a public diary that encapsulated my intellectual expedition in the LP world. Even before I published it, even before any other feedback I got for it, it felt special. All catalyzed by an opportunity to back a first-time fund manager I’d been honored to see grow as the last check in.

At that point, I still had neither committed to the idea of really being a capital allocator nor to the promise of more of such content.

And when that blogpost finally saw daylight, and a number of readers responded in kind, a tenured investor asked if I was going to write a book. It seemed only fitting that a non-fiction 200-page book be the successor to the 12,500 word blogpost. So pen met paper.

I revisited old and forged new relationships off the momentum of the blogpost. And around 80 pages into the manuscript, I ran out of things to write. I didn’t know how to continue. It felt both lacking and comprehensive at the same time. I could add in more examples. Case studies. Or just superfluous language. The equivalent of turning “my dad” into “my wife’s father-in-law.” The latter of which I swore to myself I wouldn’t do.

So I stopped.

Put it aside. And went on with the rest of my life.

But time and time again, I’d find myself staring at the ceiling at night, journaling, or writing on my whiteboard in the shower about the afore-mentioned topics. It became borderline annoying that my mind kept circling back to it and I was doing nothing about it.

So frick that. As I once learned from Max Nussenbaum, who I got to work with sooner after, the fastest way to test out if there’s a market for your ideas AND if one’s interests are sustained across longer periods of time is to just write about it. And I did. Here, here, here, and more.

At one point, my buddy Erik asked if I was going to start a podcast. At first, I dismissed the idea. Didn’t think I had the skillset or the personality for one. But man, I lost even more sleep in the ensuing weeks after he seeded the idea in my head. And so I started a podcast. (Which holy hell, I can’t wait to show you Season 3 on July 1st)

I realized much later, probably a year after I stopped writing the book, that the reason I couldn’t write anymore, despite asking so many really smart LPs for help, wasn’t that there was nothing more to share, there was still a lot… Hell, even each family office had a strategy so unlike the next. And as the saying goes, if you know one family office, you really only know one family office. So no, it wasn’t because there was nothing else to write. In one world, I could have just written an encyclopedia of strategies. It was that there was so much that had yet to be written, ever, about allocating into emerging managers.

Venture as an asset class was not the Wild West, still an alternative and still risky, but there have been predecessors who’ve productized the practice. But allocating to Fund I’s and II’s without proof of a track record was a horizon most had yet to cross.

Hell, I wrote a LinkedIn post just yesterday on how I think about evaluating Fund I track records without relying on TVPI, DPI, and IRR. And why I think more funds of funds should exist.

An excerpt on my LinkedIn post

Simply put and in summary, there’s a complexity premium on not just venture capital, but specifically on evaluating Fund Is and IIs. And I don’t mean the big firm spinouts who have a portable track record. I mean the real folks who are truly starting to build a firm (not just a fund) for the first time.

I don’t have all the answers. Sure, as hell, I hope to have more in the near future. But I’m ridiculously excited to find answers (and more nuanced questions) — putting science to art — as an emerging LP.

If you couldn’t tell yet… I think I’m in love.

And if you’re interested, I’d love to have you join me on this ride.

Photo by Mayur Gala on Unsplash


#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!


The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.

The Power Law of Questions

question, mark

Recently I’ve been hearing a lot of power law this, power law that. And you guessed right, that’s VC and LP talk. Definitely not founder vocabulary. Simply, that 20% of inputs lead to 80% of outputs. For instance, 20% of investments yield 80% of the returns.

Along a similar vein… what about questions? What 20% of questions lead to 80% of answers you need to make a decision? Or help you get 80% of the way to conviction in a deal?

‘Cause really, every question after those delivers only marginal and diminishing returns. And too much so, then you end up just wasting the founder’s or GP’s time. As the late Don Valentine once said, “[VC] is all about figuring out which questions are the right questions to ask, and since we don’t have a clue what the right answer is, we’re very interested in the process by which the entrepreneur get to the conclusion that he offers.”

While I can’t speak for everyone, here are the questions that help me get to 80% conviction. For emerging GPs.

I’m going to exclude “What is your fund strategy?” Because you should have either asked this at the beginning or found out before the meeting. This question informs if you should even take the meeting in the first place. Is it a fit for what you’re looking for or not? There, as one would expect, you’d be looking into fund size, vertical, portfolio size, and stage largely. Simple, but necessary. At least to not waste anyone’s time from the get go.

Discipline. In the first 4 years of a fund, you’re evaluated on nothing else except for the discipline and the prepared mind that you have going in. All the small and early DPI and TVPI mean close to nothing. And it’s far too early for a GP to fall into their respective quartile. In other words, Fund I is selling that promise. The prepared mind. Fund II is selling Fund I’s strategy and discipline. Fund III, you’re selling the returns on Fund I.

Vision. Is this GP thinking about institutionalizing a firm versus just a fund? How are they thinking about creating processes and repeatability into their model? How do they think about succession and talent? And sometimes I go a few steps further. What does Fund V look like? And what does the steady state of your fund strategy look like?

This is going to help with reference calls and for you to fact check if an investor actually brings that kind of value to their portfolio companies. So, in effect, the question to portfolio companies would be: How has X investor helped you in your journey?

On the flip side, even during those reference calls, I like asking: Would you take their check if they doubled their ownership? And for me to figure out how high can they take their ownership in a company before the check is no longer worth it. There are some investors who are phenomenal $250K pre-seed/seed checks for 2.5-5% ownership (other times less), but not worth their value for $2-3M checks for the same stages. To me, that’s indicative of where the market thinks GP-market fit is at.

I also love the line of questioning that Eric Bahn once taught me. “How would you rate this GP on a scale of 1 to 10?” Oftentimes, founders will give them a rating of 6, 7, 8, or if you’re lucky 9. And the follow up question then becomes, “What would get this investor to a 10?” And that’s where meaty parts are.

Of course, it’s important to do this exercise a few times, especially with the top performers in their portfolio to truly have a decent benchmark. And the ones that didn’t do so well. After all, our brand is made by our winners. And our reputation is made by those that didn’t.

In the trifecta of sourcing, picking, and winning, this is how GPs win deals.

This is really prescient in a partnership. Same as a co-foundership. If someone says, we never disagree, I’m running fast in the other direction. Everyone disagrees and has conflicts. Even twins and best friends do. If you don’t, you either have been sweeping things under the rug or one (or both or all) of you doesn’t care enough to give a shit. Because if you give a damn, you’re gonna have opinions. And not all humans have the same opinions. If everyone does, realistically, we only need one of you.

Hell, Jaclyn Freeman Hester even goes a step further and asks, How would you fire your partner?

Jaclyn on firing partners and team risk

Personally I think that last question yields interesting results and thought exercises, but lower on my totem pole (or higher if you want to be culturally accurate) of questions I need answers to in the initial meetings.

This is always a question I get to, but especially valuable, when I ask it to spinouts. Building a repeatable and scalable sourcing pipeline is one of the cruxes of being a great fund manager. But in the age when a lot of LPs are shifting their focus to spinouts from top-tier funds, it’s an important reminder that (a) not all spinouts are created equal, and (b) most often, I find spinouts who rely largely on their existing “brand” and “network” without being able to quantify the pillars of it and how it’s repeatable.

For (a), a GP spinning out is evaluated differently than a partner or a junior investment member. A GP is one who manages the LP relationships, and knows intimately the value of what goes in an LPA, on top of her/his investing prowess. And the further you go down the food chain, the less visibility one gets of the end to end process. In many ways, the associates and analysts spinning out need the most help, but are also most willing to hustle.

Which brings me to (b). Most spinouts rely on the infrastructure and brand of their previous firm, and once they’ve left, they lose that brand within a year’s time. Meaning if they don’t find a way or have an existing way to continue to build deal flow, oftentimes, they’ll be left with the leftovers on the venture table. This question, for me, gives me a sense of whether an investor is a lean-in investor or a lean-back investor. The devil’s in the details.

This is a test to see how much self-awareness a founder/GP has. The most dangerous answer is saying “There are no reasons not to invest.” There are always reasons not to. The question is, are you aware of them? And can you prioritize which risks to de-risk first?

In many ways, I think pitching a Fund I as illustrating the minimum viable assumption you need to get to the minimum viable product. And Fund II is getting to the minimum lovable strategy (by founders and other investors in the ecosystem). And with anything that is minimally viable, there are a bunch of holes in it.

Another way to say the above is also, “If halfway through the fund we realize the fund isn’t working, what is the most likely reason why?”


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!


The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.

Angels who are Useless to Founders

angel. statue, broken

This may very much be the hill I end up dying on as an angel. I also realize that the title of the blogpost itself is ionically charged. But it’s something I feel strongly about.

Two caveats.

One, this is going to be one of my more strongly worded blogposts. I don’t write many of these. It doesn’t give me joy to “call” people out. If you’re a reader to this blog for the more mild-mannered Cup of Zhou, I’ll see you next week. 🙂

Let’s just say I’m writing this out of frustration after chatting with a founder who hit all the below red flags. But more importantly, frustration at myself for not recognizing the below a mile away when I took the meeting. And the opening 2 questions for that meeting was can you share what you do? and what do you invest in? Both of which are quite evident on my LinkedIn. Moreover the cold outreach came via LinkedIn.

Two, I’m a small check angel. And this may not apply if you write north of a $100K angel check or a $250K LP check. You’re likely also excluded from this hill I’ll die on if you don’t have the network that would alert you on deals on a regular basis.

That said, if you’re a small check investor like me AND you have a decent network, any founder who doesn’t know exactly why they want you on the cap table outside of money is probably not a founder worth your time.

Why?

  1. To them, you’re just another check, and not THE check. Whatever wrapper they put on things, you’re dumb money to them. Now, it’s not about feeling self-important. In fact, don’t delude yourself on your importance. It’s about being valuable, outside of the money. The early stages of company-building are so crucial that you really need all hands rowing in the same direction. Any hands that are idle, or worse, rowing in the opposite direction, is a waste of time, attention and resources.
  2. They don’t know what they want. They don’t know the critical needs of the business. Is it talent? Is it getting to $1M ARR and developing a sales strategy? Is it scaling past product-market fit? Is it finding product-market fit? And because they don’t, they don’t know what they need help in. And any non-surgical answer, including terms relative to broad strokes, is a dud.
  3. And in many ways, because of the above reasons, you’re wasting your dollar. The best founders are surgical and intentional to a fault. They’re also some of the best salespeople in the world. And they will make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world (whether actually true or not, but sometimes, even that doesn’t really matter). Because if they can win you over, they have a great batting average of winning key customers over.

FYI, also probably not worth your time if they:

  1. Say you specialize in XX industry is not enough. Anyone can guess that at a glance at your LinkedIn. Even more so, if you’ve made it explicit.
  2. Spend more time pitching to you than asking you questions to understand your values and what you’re interested in. They’re more interested in what comes out of their mouth than by how much reaches your ears.
  3. Say you’re valuable for intros you can make. LinkedIn doesn’t tell people the strength of your first degree connections. For better or worse, I’m connected with a lot of people. Product of me being a bit too liberal with inbound connections early on. But it doesn’t mean I know them all equally as well. In fact, intros for a founder as an investor are table stakes. You must either be best friends with key decision makers/customers or downstream investors, or it’s really not as useful. And that only comes out if the founder spends time getting to know you, as listed in the second point above.

Ever since I added “Angel investor” to my LinkedIn profile, I’ve received a lot of noise. Quantity of deal flow went up by maybe 10-20 per week (and some weeks where I post something or get tagged in something that gets 5K+ impressions, that inbound deal flow from LinkedIn doubles if not more). But I’d say 95% of that are deals I would never invest in. Either since it’s out of scope, stage, check size, or just type of founder. Which at some point, when I remember to and I’m not typing this on my little 6×3 inch screen, I’ll have to redact that title, “Angel investor.”

Deal flow has become easy. But easy doesn’t mean good. The truth is, I’d rather mean a lot to a few than a little to a lot people.

And by the way, the same is true, if you’re a small check LP.

At the end of the day, as a founder (or emerging GP), it’s about finding your early believers. Those who choose to stand by you not just because everything’s going up and to the right. But those who will stand by you when shit hits the fan.

I was watching the latest episode of Hot Ones (yes, this is my guilty pleasure), where Sean is interviewing Will Smith, and Will shares that there are three kinds of friends in your life that you call at 3AM.

  1. One kind of friend looks at the phone and pretends to be asleep.
  2. A second kind of friend that picks up the phone that makes you feel bad for being in trouble.
  3. And the third kind is putting their pants on while they’re answering the phone.

You want the third kind.

It also harkens back to the same conversation Aakar, Ho, Vignesh, and I had two weeks ago. Believing comes from faith. And faith comes not just from where you are today, but where you will go. And that is established on Day 1.

To get early believers, you have to show you care. You have to give (even if it means your time, attention, and/or enthusiasm/interest), before you get. That is as true for investors as it is for customers.

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash


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!


The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.