I used to send intro requests for as many people as I humanly could. Admittedly, a sillier, more naive me a long, long while back.
The most number of intro requests came from people I did not know. Usually founders. Given that I had just entered the venture world at that time, I was labeled as an investor or, at least, someone, who was connected to the investor world based on my LinkedIn. I also had a habit of adding anyone who reached out to connect (unless they were obviously spam). At the time, I thought, “What was the downside?”
Spoiler alert: There is a downside.
They would try to tell me about their startup. Then asked if I would invest. I’d say no, so they’d ask if I knew anyone who might be interested. A fair question. And a natural lead-in, had I offered any names, to: Can you intro me to them?
In trying to be a good Samaritan, I’d ask for the deck and blurb in a forwardable email. Half of them would. Half of them would say something to the effect of “You know enough about my company already; you write the email.”
And my dumbass, fearing to offend, would go out of my way to write intros for strangers who didn’t even bother to write anything themselves. So, I’d send that email to a friend or colleague in the industry. “You interested?” along with the email they sent me. And if they didn’t, just their LinkedIn, website, and/or deck.
Naturally, most would say no. Some would ask for my take on them. To which, I’d share that I didn’t know much about them outside of the obvious. I wasn’t investing myself, but they wanted to meet. 10-20% of the time, some friends and colleagues would say yes. (To this day, I wonder if it was just their policy to say yes to all warm intros or they were trying to be considerate of me. Some, over the years, I’ve asked. As such, it’s all the above.)
Over time, I would just include “I’m not investing. Only met them once.” in addition to “You interested?” in those emails.
Then one day, and I don’t remember when I first thought to myself, why the hell am I putting my reputation on the line each time for someone I don’t know and personally haven’t bothered to dig deeper only to write an email to show I also didn’t care about them? Why would I put myself through that? It had also become emotionally taxing to me to go through all those actions only to disappoint the founders (and myself) 99% of the time. Not only would I feel bad (often delayed disappointment and resent at myself), but I also wasn’t doing anyone any good.
So I stopped. Full stop. Period.
Around the early innings of the pandemic when it felt like there was a greater influx of deals and noise.
My rule became, and still is, unless:
I’m investing/invested
I’m advising (investing my time)
I’ve worked with you before and I would instantly jump at the chance to work together again
I’ve hired you
I’ve known you for so long and to a level we’ve become good friends and I feel like you’re a good reflection of the people I choose to surround myself with (that does not mean you have to be successful, but that you need to have good values and the discipline to pursue them)
You are someone I care about
Or someone, that has wowed me in a fundamental way.
AND I know the other person who you want an intro to well enough…
I’m not writing any intros.
I still read every email I get. Cold or not. And I still respond to every warm email I get. But for my fragile heart that can’t stand disappointing more people and the volume of emails I get, I’m not responding to any emails that look like they’re templated, AI-generated, or written without care. So I can focus on the ones that matter.
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.
I started this practice back in 2019, inspired by two legendary people, but also that vacation responders are so boring. Why? If I’m going to take time off to have fun, why not make my out of office response fun to read as well. And so I followed through. Every vacation responder I’ve had since has always been… different.
The more I did so, the quirkier they got. And I found it as a fun creative writing exercise too. I took it so far to the point that of the many different email addresses I’ve been lucky enough to have over the years, I almost got “fired” because of my vacation responder through that email address. “You don’t seem to take your job seriously.” I do. In fact more seriously than most I’m led to believe. And I love what I do. Every career choice I’ve made I’ve made with the intention of serving the people I do serve with the utmost respect. Customers. LPs. Investors. And so on. But doesn’t mean I can’t have fun. I don’t take myself seriously, but I do take my job.
Then recently, having just gotten back from a break, a friend asked why I don’t share my vacation responders publicly as potentially inspiration for others to write interesting vacation responders. And I thought, why not?
I don’t plan to start a movement here. This may just be me and my own weird sense of fun and what makes me giggle. But in case it might offer you a little giggle as well if you haven’t emailed me when I’ve been out, sharing my last three vacation responders below.
Pandora
The date is [date redacted]. I’ve just been told that I won the government lottery to be shot light years into space to find answers – to go to the largest moon of the planet Polyphemus, Pandora. Nervous, but ready, I’m jotting this in my diary before I go into cryo.
[NEW ENTRY]
The date is [date redacted]. I’ve just awoken from the best slumber I’ve had in a long time. Only to be interrupted by this rude guy called Miles Quaritch. Apparently, I’m only allowed to address him as Colonel. He looks like the person Colonel Sanders would be if he did P90X instead of fried chicken.
I’ll be updating this diary periodically before I one day return back to planet Earth.
[UPDATED NOTE]
Training is tough. Got the lights knocked out of myself a few times. Now sitting with a black eye as I’m recording this entry.
[UPDATE 2]
Food is odd but good. Still learning when to use utensils and when not to. Seems like the general answer is to not to.
[UPDATE 3]
Ahhhhhh, they found us-…
[UPDATE 4]
Hell has broken loose!!
[UPDATE 5]
All is quiet on the western front.
[UPDATE 6]
Ahhhhh-…!
[UPDATE 7]
I’m alive.
[END TRANSMISSION]
I know I’m supposed to say I won’t be able to respond until I get back on [date redacted], but the truth is I’ll be lying out of my ass. In always having my phone with me, I will more likely than not see a notification blip pop up on my phone lock screen, assuming I still have service on Pandora. And I know that from time to time, I will need to interrupt my vacation to answer something urgent.
That said, I promised myself I’d unplug and enjoy my life as one of the Sky People as best as I can. So, I’m going to run an experiment. I’m going to let you decide:
If your matter is really urgent, resend the email with your subject line preceded by [URGENT] and I’ll try to respond nimbly.
Otherwise, I’ll respond when I return to the beautiful SF.
Escaping into chaos,
David
Feudal Japan
So….. I just watched Shogun. A phenomenal show. 11/10 would recommend.
Loved it so much I created a time machine. You didn’t just scoff at me, did you? Who are you to say that I can’t invent one? We have robots, quantum chemistry, DNA cloning, generative AI. Of course I can make a time machine.
Not to reveal my hand too much here, since I’m not sure the world is ready to accept a time machine yet, but an EKG’s ability to monitor micro-pulses and a quantum computer that can perform quantum calculations based on limited historical datasets can do wonders.
Anyway, by [date redacted], I will have been whisked away into the historic lands of Japan. Unfortunately, I will have very little reception as Starlink will have yet to exist in 17th century Japan. I hope to come back well-versed in tea ceremonies, bladesmithing, and with the honor of being a shokunin in a craft. On the off chance I get caught in the feudal wars between rising warlords, I’ve designed a failsafe that will pull me back into the 21st century on December 2nd, hopefully with all my four limbs attached.
I know I’m supposed to say I won’t be able to respond until I get back on [date redacted], but the truth is I’ll be lying out of my ass. In always having my phone with me, I will more likely than not see a notification blip pop up on my phone lock screen, assuming I still have service in historic Japan, which is possible since I’m using the neuromodulator in the time machine as the connection point to connect to 2024’s technology. And I know that from time to time, I will need to interrupt my vacation to answer something urgent.
That said, I promised myself and my partner I’d unplug and enjoy my time off as best as I can. So, I’m going to run an experiment. I’m going to let you decide:
If your matter is really urgent, resend the email with your subject line preceded by [URGENT] and I’ll try to respond nimbly.
Otherwise, I’ll respond when I return to the beautiful SF.
Cheerios and orange juice,
David-san
Outie out
I am told by my outie that he will be going away for period of time. And as I have gone through the severance procedure, as your humble innie, I will be unable to get back to you within that time. Not because I don’t want to, but I just won’t be awake then.
My outie has been quite stressed, but in the wellness room, they tell me he is loved and he has friends, and for these next few weeks, he’s spending time with people who love him.
I know I’m supposed to say I won’t be able to respond until I get back on [date redacted], but the truth is I’ll be lying out of my ass. In my outie always having his phone with him, our only mutual access point from the outside, he will more likely than not see a notification blip pop up on his phone lock screen, assuming we find a way to reconnect our innies on the outside, which should be possible as we have a master plan in place and an all-access card to make our innies’ voices heard. And I know that from time to time, I will need to interrupt my vacation to answer something urgent.
That said, I promised myself and my partner I’d unplug and enjoy my time off as best as I can. So, I’m going to run an experiment. I’m going to let you decide:
If your matter is really urgent, resend the email with your subject line preceded by [URGENT] and I’ll try to respond nimbly.
Otherwise, I’ll respond when I return to the beautiful SF.
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.
As a kid, I wrote poetry because it was easier to express myself in short form than long form. I also used to start writing fictional books, but stop after chapter one because I didn’t know how the story would develop. I was also the kid who would find five different ways to say the same thing in grade school, just so that my essay would hit the page limit. Yet still, my lowest grades among any subject was still English, particularly writing.
David Ogilvy, the namesake for the legendary advertising firm, Ogilvy & Mather, now just Ogilvy, once said: “Woolly minded people write woolly memos, woolly letters and woolly speeches.” The truth is I was, probably still am, a “wooly minded person.” But I try to be better.
That was the genesis of this blog. I didn’t have grand hopes of becoming famous. Or that I was going to make a career out of this. Still so, as it is still the reason why I haven’t said yes to any sponsors to this blog.
I write to think. I write whatever comes to mind. Simply, I write what I want. In fact, when the fact I have this blog comes up in conversation, I still actively tell me to unsubscribe. This isn’t an LP blog. Nor a VC blog. Nor a startup blog. It’s just my train of consciousness. Something I commit to every week. So, I’m extraordinarily honored to have a few thousand of you read this on a regular basis.
Thank you.
I don’t say that enough on this blog. But to all of you reading, I am deeply grateful you’re on this journey with me.
But… over the years, people have said I’m not as bad as I say I am at writing. Which might be true. We are all, after all, our own harshest critics. While I’m nowhere near the level of David Ogilvy or Brandon Sanderson or Maria Popova or Neil Gaiman or Susan Cain, in case it might be helpful, here are the gentle reminders I give myself when it comes to writing:
Write as I talk. Incomplete sentences. One word sentences. Short, easy words occasionally sprinkled in with a $10 word I like. Tenacious. Idiosyncratic. Judicious. And yes, I’m conscious that I use ‘bandwidth’ instead of ‘time.’
Write only when I’m inspired to. I don’t have a strict regimen of writing. I’ve met authors who have four-hour morning writing routines. I don’t. This is not my full-time job. But I enjoy writing. And I’m not publishing daily. I’ve committed to weekly. That affords me an immense amount of latitude for ‘productive time to be bored.’ I’m more often inspired by ‘touching grass’ as the kids call it than I am staring at my monitor or journal.
In case I’m on a deadline and I’ve been uninspired up till the deadline, I have a very specific doc I reference. The metaphorical ‘break glass in case of emergency.’ It’s called the Emotion Catalogue. In it, I’ve tracked every single time I’ve consumed a piece of information that led to a specific emotional reaction. Happiness/joy. Sadness. Regret. Guilt. Jealousy. Anger. Inspiration. Fear. Creativity. Not sure if the last one is an emotion, but to me, it is. And if I’m supposed to write about a certain emotion, I need to feel that emotion. So I go to that catalogue, pick one or two of the inspirations within a section. And I consume it. Read it. Watch it. Listen to it.
Use productive time to edit. Use inspired time to write. For me, that’s usually (not always) writing in the evening. And editing in the morning.
I ‘idea-journal’ every day. If I can’t think of a new idea to write on, the journaling prompt I have to answer, “What is the most important question I should be asking myself today?” or “What did I really not want to do today? Why?”
Write for one person. You. Or for me, the person I was yesterday. I am always guaranteed one happy reader. But also, if it’s helpful for me, there’s a good chance I’m not alone. And it’s helpful for someone else out there as well.
Rewrite things often. The first idea is usually not the best, nor is it the most refined. Even if it’s five years from now.
Be comfortable with dropping ideas. Sometimes I’m motivated to write something, but I lose motivation halfway through. Instead of making it homework for myself, it’s easier to mentally drop it. This is different from ideas I’m still motivated to write about, but can’t find the right concepts or words to put it into play. Those I mull over for a while. Sometimes, years.
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.
One of my favorite Hunter Walk lines, and one I cite quite often is: “Never follow your investor’s advice and you might fail. Always follow your investor’s advice and you’ll definitely fail.”
Investors are more likely to drive a company to the ground than otherwise. Founders listen to the advice of people they deem to be more senior and more experienced than them, as if they were written into the Bible. The cold, hard truth for people who give advice is that:
Not all advice is created equal and most advice is situational.
Your advice is more likely to be useless than useful in the aggregate supply of advice.
Advice should always be taken with a grain of salt. And oftentimes, certain pieces of advice is overweighted given the brand of the person giving it (who is right vs. what is right) and/or given the number of times the advice is given.
I’m lucky enough to be asked to be an advisor to a small number of funds, startups, and non-profits. Nothing to ever be worth bragging about. In fact, sometimes I wonder why I have a seat at the table. Nevertheless, lucky to share a drink with people smarter than me. I also realize that I’m a work in progress, and love to learn, just for the sake of learning. I’m not the famous person in the room, nor am I the most experienced person in the room.
So…
I always preface my advice with “Take this with a grain of salt, and this is purely my opinion – one among many others. I trust you to make the final judgment call of what makes the most sense.”
I give the unorthodox opinion. If I don’t have one, I don’t share any advice. I will caveat that I play in the early stages of company formation, when organizations are more so the pirates than the navy. When things are non-obvious, and need to fight to have a seat at the table. And given that the company and/or fund’s job is to question the status quo, I believe it is my job is to enable the founders to consider unorthodox paths. The minimum I can do is suggest that even if my advice is wrong, there are more paths than the one or two options we have in front of us. Or as Mike Maples writes in his book Pattern Breakers, “breakthroughs require pattern breaking.”
All in all, is my advice better than yours? Or anyone else’s? Who knows? But at least it’s different.
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.
I had a number of people ask me what I’m doing next. So I told them.
One of the key pillars of what I am doing now is content. It’s why I write this blog. It’s why I produce Superclusters. It’s why there are a few new projects I’m working on that will shed light to this opaque world in which we’re in. Particularly in venture. In the allocator world.
I don’t hold anything back. There are no other cards I’m hiding up my sleeve. When a friend, an acquaintance, a stranger ask me how I do something, I tell them. Unfiltered. Without restraint. Without reservation. Without hesitation.
And for some reason, recently I’ve had more people ask me why. “What’s in it for you?” “What’s your master plan?” “Do you make more money this way?” “Why not just do X?” “You know you can get people to pay you a lot of money for this.” “Aren’t you afraid of being obsolete?”
Some questions come from a place of fear. Others, a place of greed. None of it from a place of joy.
There’s nothing in it for me, except for one thing. If I can help one more person not fall through the pitfalls I went through, or help one more person live a more meaningful life, or help one more person smile, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
There’s a great line I remember watching in the show After Life. “Happiness is amazing. It’s so amazing it doesn’t matter if it’s yours or not. A society grows great when old men plant trees the shade of which they know they will never sit in.”
I just want a better world. I want to make people happy. And I don’t care if it’s my own. But making another person truly happy makes me happy.
Whether you believe me or not, that’s up to you. But that’s all I have to say.
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.
My family and friends have always enjoyed local restaurants and never found that higher end culinary flair ever satisfied the beast within. Also, having been a swimmer in a prior lifetime, I also ate like a vacuum cleaner. Food was inhaled rather than chewed.
In 2015, my mentor brought me to my first fine dining experience. One with a Michelin star at that. It was a multi-course meal, filled with words I knew the definitions of, but the permutation of which left me perplexed. Palate cleanser. Salad forks and dinner forks. Kitchen tours. And more.
I remember one distinct course where they had served us clams with the shells attached in a bowl. And another ornate bowl after we de-shell. The messiest part of the dinner, to be fair. After we were all done, they cleaned the table and brought us a glass bowl of water. With slices of lemon and grapefruit, adorned with flower petals.
Thinking it was a complementary drink, I took a swig. It was akin to spa water. Cool, and rather refreshing. Contrary to the calming effect of the drink, I saw, out of the corner of my eye, our waiter run across the room faster than any Olympian. After zigs and zags between tables, he stopped abruptly at our table. Now the whole restaurant stared curiously at what would happen next. Between lengthy exhales, he said, “Sir, this bowl is for washing your hands.” Embarrassed, I apologized profusely. To which, he consoled me profusely back. He took the bowl to get us a new one.
As I looked over at my dining mate, he said, “Man, I’m glad you took that bullet for us. I would have done the same.”
Nowadays, especially if I’m in a fine dining establishment, I almost always ask, “How would you recommend us to eat this?”
Most fund managers start the meeting off, almost immediately with the pitch. Most founders do the same too. I was at a virtual conference last week, where I was matched with 8 GPs on a 15-minute speed date, 6 out of 8 jumped straight into, “Let me tell you about my fund.” I get the urgency, but the first meeting should always be an opportunity to get to know the person you are talking to. As Simon Sinek says, start with the why. Then the how. Then the what. Most flip the order when they’re in pitch mode. Hell, some may not ever get into the ‘why.’
Most LPs do not invest in venture full-time. In fact, it’s the asset class they know least well. And within their smallest bucket of allocation, aka venture, emerging managers are the smallest of the smallest bucket in their larger portfolio. So if amount of capital equated to depth of understanding, most LPs know bar none about venture. At least, compared to you, the GP, who is pitching. Some may think they know a lot. They may even want to invest directly in early-stage companies themselves. And while they may not admit it to you, a number of LPs think your job, as a venture capital GP, is easy.
You, I, and every investor who has spent meaningful time in venture and is not deluding themselves, know that this is the exact opposite of any easy job that anyone can do well. Do note, raising capital easily and deploying capital easily and supporting entrepreneurs easily are all different things.
Nevertheless, depending on the LP’s proficiency level, you need to remind them:
On venture and its risks (why the asset class) — Compare the asset class to others. Buyout. Real estate. Credit. And so on. Set expectations explicitly. If you yourself are not capable of comparing and contrasting between the asset classes, you should learn about the others yourself.
Why emerging managers (Big multi stage fund vs you the Fund I) — You are not Andreessen, GC, Redpoint, Emergence, IVP, Industry, you name it. Neither should you at a Fund I or II. The risks of betting on emerging managers is present. If an LP indexes the emerging manager venture asset class, they’ll be disappointed. The mean is great, but the median is horrible. At least, compared to other asset classes they could be investing in. Do not pitch them, “emerging managers are more likely to outperform.” Inform them of the real risks at play.
Why vertical/industry — Many emerging funds are specialists. For good reason. Based on your past experience, you’re likely to have more scar tissue but also real learnings than in other industries you did not have exposure to. Just like the first two, set the stage. How does your industry compare to others?
Why you — Why the strategy? Why do you have GP-thesis fit? Why have all your previous experiences culminated to this one point in time to start this fund? And is your interest in running a firm enduring? If not, it’s also okay, but be explicit about it.
Why they loved you — This is for the venture-literate LP AND if they’ve previously invested in you. Now they’re deciding if they should re-up. Were you true to your word? Have you stayed focused enough that your bets are still largely uncorrelated to the other bets in the LP’s portfolio? Why are you as awesome, but ideally more awesome compared to the last time you’ve chatted?
In that order. Starting from (1) to (5). Do not skip (1), (2), and (3).
If you jump straight to (4), that LP will consume that information within their own biases. Something you may not be able to control. And that will either make a fool out of them. Or a fool out of you. Just like I was at my first fine dining meal.
No one wants to be a fool. Don’t give anyone a chance to be one.
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.
Folks with frequent flyer miles here know that I’m a big fan of Brandon Sanderson’s lessons on creative writing. So, when Brandon Sanderson shared his new course on YouTube, I had to check it out. And I’m glad I did. In it, there’s a story on a Hollywood pilot for a new sitcom.
A team in Hollywood would bring people in, and subsequently tell them that team would ask the test audience what they thought of the pilot episode after they watched it. People would then watch it. After, they would ask, “There was a commercial at break number one. What brand was this commercial for?” Why? They didn’t want people focusing on the commercials, but wanted to understand the efficacy of the commercial. According to Brandon, they used the same sitcom pilot for years, which they used as the constant to test the commercial itself.
As such, Brandon’s advice to writers was that you shouldn’t ask too many leading questions when asking for feedback. Otherwise you’d predispose your audience to the intentions of your script.
Interestingly enough, I wrote a piece last week on how I do references. In it, I also share some of the questions I use during diligence and reference calls. While the questions aren’t intended to deceive, they’re designed to get to the truth. For instance, instead of asking for a person’s weakness, you ask “If you were to hire someone under this person, what qualities would you look for?” If I were to ask a stranger about their friend’s weakness, 9 times out of 10, I’ll get a response that’s a strength in disguise. A stranger has no incentive to tell me negative things about someone they have known for a while.
But at the same time, my job as an investor, though only a minority investor, is to help their friend grow. And I can’t help them grow if I don’t know what are areas they need to grow in.
As such, the focus isn’t on weaknesses. But shifting the framing to areas where I can complement them. Areas that if they worked on them in the next two years will make them a more robust leader.
There’s also another exercise I’ve really enjoyed working on with founders and emerging managers. I’d host a dinner where most people don’t know each other and what the other people are building. I don’t give them time to introduce themselves, but I ask every single person to bring their deck. During the dinner, they’re required to give their deck to someone else at the table. Each person then has a max of two minutes to look at someone’s deck, with no other context. After two minutes, decks are put away. And each person is required to pitch the startup or the fund as if they were the founder.
It’s a self-awareness exercise. Too often, when we’re looking at our own pitch day in, day out, we tend to lose perspective. We tend to miss things that are obvious to others. Through the above exercise, each person is able to notice what someone with limited time and attention took away from their pitch and what the delta is between what the founder wanted to convey and what the other person ended up conveying.
#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.
Undeniably, one of the most insightful books I read this year has been Setting the Table by Danny Meyer. Someone I’ve been a long time fan of. If you’re no stranger to this humble blog, you’ll notice his cameos throughout previouspieces I’ve written. I am also remarkably late to the game. The book came out in 2008. And to this day, is as timeless as it was over a decade and a half back. Thank you, Rishi and Arpan for gifting me a copy.
That book has led to blogposts like this and this. To finally cold email him (yay, he replied! Danny, if you’re reading this, thank you for making my day, hell, and a good portion of my year!). New ways on how I support GPs. More intentional ways to hire. Inspired me to take on two more writing projects and a new podcast series in 2025 (don’t worry, Superclusters isn’t going anywhere, but expanding). And I’m sure it’s only the tip of the iceberg.
And as one last fanboy moment for Danny, there’s a line he has on page 220. A line the late and great Stanley Marcus of Neiman Marcus fame once told him. “The road to success is paved with mistakes well handled.” A line I haven’t stopped thinking about since I read it.
There’s a saying in the entrepreneurial world that it takes between 10 and 15 miracles for a startup to succeed. Each miracle is a trial by fire. A right of passage. A test of character. I’ve always believed that the job of an investor is not to be helpful all the time, or share celebrations on social media, or facilitate just connections. Despite having done many of the above myself, those are all, in my mind, table stakes. Rather, the job of an investor is to be there for at least one of those critical points of failure and to be extremely valuable. To help an entrepreneur handle their mistake well, to borrow Stanley Marcus’ line.
“If I hire someone, I don’t really want to hire right out of school. I want to hire someone with a little bit of professional experience. And I want someone who’s been yelled at.”
While it makes for a great clickbait title, the lesson extends further. One only gets yelled at by making a mistake. One learns not by making mistakes, but the public embarrassment of that mistake. If someone learn of the negative aftermath of a mistake, one won’t get the feedback mechanism necessary to grow from that experience. To analogize it to elementary math, if my afterschool teacher didn’t slap me with a ruler every time I got 9+8 wrong, it would have taken me a lot longer to learn that lesson. If no one catches you accidentally making an inconsistent calculation on the balance sheet, you may never learn from that mistake.
All that to say, someone who’s been yelled at made the mistake, received the feedback mechanism to improve, and learned to handle it better next time.
So, in my long preamble, and not to bury the lead, 2025 will be the year of big mistakes. Maybe. Hopefully, well handled. 2024 was the year of laying the groundwork. A lot of which were made explicit via this blog. I’m not saying I haven’t made any mistakes. Yes, I’ve left the toilet seat up. I should have asked for more concrete examples during certain podcast interviews. Almost forgot to file my annual tax extension. Forgot to mention a sponsor at an event (luckily my co-host had my back). Made the rookie intern mistake at work. Twice. Different things, but nevertheless twice. But those mistakes will be small compared to the ones I’ll make next year.
Nevertheless, here are the hallmarks of 2024!
2024’s Most Popular
Timeless Content for the Weary Investor — Our society spends quite a bit of time focusing on results, outputs, and success. All of which are lagging indicators of the blood, sweat and tears people put in. So instead, earlier this year, I thought it’d be interesting to compile a list of content that some of the most successful investors (LPs and VCs alike) consume. What goes in their information diet? What are the inputs? Some results may surprise!
The Science of Selling – Early DPI Benchmarks — With the economy outside of AI hitting a standstill and hitting record low numbers in terms of liquidity, I’ve found a constant stream of new readers via this blogpost. Many of which I imagine to be fiduciaries and capital allocators. I do hope that one day there is more content on selling and exiting positions in a liquidity-constrained environment though. Although, I may just put out a blogpost on secondaries in the new year, inspired by a number of conversations I’ve had this year already.
How to Break into VC in 2024 — It may be obvious by now that there’s no one set path to get into venture. I’ve worked with colleagues who ranged in majors from history to food science to economics to computer engineering. Additionally, those who have been a founder, a banker, a consultant, a product manager, an artist, an athlete, an actress, a public relations specialist, and the list goes on. But if you were looking for the closest thing to a silver bullet, maybe this essay would be a great place to start.
Five Tactical Lessons After Hosting 100+ Fireside Chats — Surprisingly, this has stayed as a perennial blogpost. I realize even now looking back, how much I’ve learned since, but nevertheless a good starting point for those who want to interview others.
The Non-Obvious Emerging LP Playbook — The first blogpost I wrote on the topic of being an LP. Still my longest one to date. Since then, I’ve learned an LP comes by many a name. Capital allocator. Asset owner. And more specifically, the difference between multi-family offices and single family offices. Family businesses. Access versus asset class LPs. And more.
Non-obvious Hiring Questions I’ve Fallen in Love with — I’ve been lucky enough to spend quite a bit of time around talent magnets this year. And in the surplus of applications, they’re forced to quickly differentiate signal from noise. And these are some of the questions I’ve heard them use. And well, have also used myself when hiring these past two years.
All-Time Most Popular
This list hasn’t changed much this year. One can say I have yet to outdo myself. Which may be true. I admittedly, also haven’t shared these blogposts much on Twitter. In fact, over 70% of this year’s posts never touched LinkedIn or Twitter. When in the past, I invested a bit more time in expanding to new audiences. For any essay that did go a little viral this year, it was because of you, my readers. So thank you!
This year was the year of LP content. Also, the year where I stopped using as many headers in my blogposts. Interestingly enough. It wasn’t any conscious decision, but at some point I just slowed my pace down. Excluding this blogpost and a few others. I wonder if I’ll use less next year.
So, to share them chronologically, here are some of my personal favorites:
The Proliferation of LP Podcasts — I wrote this back in March at the beginning of Season 2 of Superclusters, and I still stand by this today. At the beginning of every content adoption curve, the question is: WHERE can I find this content? But as the content becomes fully adopted, in this case around being a capital allocator, the question will become: WHO do I want to / choose to listen to?
From Demo Day to First Meeting: My Demo Day Checklist — There are times we have to make fast decisions when faced with a volume of options. Going to Demo Days and choosing who to follow up with is just one of such cases. I’m happy this year I’ve codified that practice when going to VC accelerator Demo Days. And I imagine it’s only a matter of time, before we’re faced with the volume of YC Demo Days, but for funds.
The Power Law of Questions — As I’ve grown as an LP, I find myself being a lot more intentional with questions I ask fund managers. This blogpost serves as a record of questions I found myself asking quite often this year.
Emerging Manager Products versus Features — In the startup world, the concept of products and features have become quite prevalent. One is a standalone business. The other is more of a subclause than a clause, incapable of being a product offering in of and itself. As I spend time thinking about an asset class, where the simplest, and likely, most facetious way of describing it, is we sell money, this blogpost serves as “value-adds” that deserve their own fund versus ones that should be built within a larger shop.
Shoe Shopping — One of my posts where the title almost has nothing to do with the blogpost itself. But an observation of what differentiates VC funds beyond what they pitch the public.
! > ? > , > . — Another one of those blogposts where it’s hard to guess what it’s about from the title itself. Likely my worst essay title to date. Or best? A product of my gripe that most people don’t know how to ask for feedback. And good news! Some readers of this blog have reached out since asking for more directed feedback.
Three E’s of Fund Discipline — A lot of GPs focus on entry discipline. A lot of LPs in 2024 focus on exit discipline. Both are equally as important, but both often forget about the third kind of fund discipline. Executional discipline. I give examples of each in this essay, which hopefully can help as a reminder for what is needed out of a great fund manager. A separate job description from just being a good investor. In fact, you can be the latter without ever needing to raise or manage your own fund, and still make the Midas List.
Anecdotal Telltale Signs of Exceptionalism — One of the blogposts I imagine will continuously be updated. As even in 2025, I’m making edits to this one. This, at the end of the day, may just sit as an easter egg hidden in the deep corners of this blog. But for me, it will be a public log of things I’ve noticed, things I like, and things that I’ve seen work well for really exceptional people I get to meet and be friends with.
With that, 2024 comes to a close. See you all in the new year!
4/12/2025 Edit: Added in Anecdotal Telltale Signs of Exceptionalism as one of 2024’s most memorable blogposts. One of the few blogposts that is likely to be dynamic, as opposed to static.
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.
Yes, that’s the title of this blogpost. And no, that’s not in Wingdings font.
And yes, that’s also an equation.
Surprises do better than suspense, which do better than pauses, which do better than full stops.
The first is indelible. The last is forgettable.
Let me elaborate.
Notation
Meaning
Explanation
!
Surprise
(For all you coders, the exclamation point does not stand for “not.”)
You’ve shared something interesting, shocking, unexpected… something non-consensus or nonobvious. This is the easiest justification for someone to take a meeting. You not only have their attention, but their curiosity.
It’s a point of contention. It allows for debate. At face glance, it may not sound right. It may outright be shocking.
?
Suspense
Why? How? You’ve posed an interesting question that begs an answer. People will follow up. They may or may not take the meeting, which is highly dependent on their bandwidth and your luck in their schedule.
Oftentimes, the follow up will seek some level of external validation. You need to appeal to a higher authority. References. Facts/data, and starting from universal truths. Or sometimes, a higher form of logic and reasoning.
In the words of Siqi Chen, questions are “tell tale signs of objections politely withheld.” For the purpose of gauging interest, quiet objections out loud may work in your favor.
,
Pause
You’ve introduced a subclause before the clause. The subclause itself must be interesting enough for them to want to finish the sentence. It’s the difference between a feature and a product. If it is interesting enough, there may be a follow up, but things will usually stay asynchronous.
Oftentimes, this manifests in the form of taking a large leap of faith in logic. Either one starts a premise, but has no conclusion/solution. Or the other way around. You deliver the punchline, but has no build-up.
.
Stop
A quick conclusion can be drawn. No further questions or curiosities. There’s nothing special. Nothing worth noting. This neither grabs attention or begs curiosity. The same as saying the sky is blue.
While that may seem obvious, the equivalent in the startup world is “We are a B2B SaaS product leveraging AI to deliver insights.” You’ve said nothing. And unfortunately, all of which is forgettable.
All that to say, if the goal is to get a conversation going, the above is a formula I often advise the founders and GPs I work with.
Then once you have the meeting, of all the meeting requests I get, the two most common reasons are:
I need money
I need feedback
Oftentimes, not mutually exclusive.
For the purpose of this blogpost, and as I’ve written about the former in the past, I’ll focus on the latter.
Feedback
The vast majority of people also suck at asking for feedback. Take pitch decks, for example.
Most founders and GPs ask: “Can you give me some feedback on my deck?” Unfortunately, the ask is nebulous. What kind of feedback are you looking for? How honest can I be? What are my parameters?
Should I be worried about hurting your feelings? Are you looking for validation or constructive criticism?
Am I the best person to give you feedback on this? Am I supposed to give feedback from the perspective of me as [insert your name] or a different persona?
So, unless you’re best friends with the person you want feedback from AND they are the ideal archetype you’re trying to target, you need to be more direct and focused on what you’re looking for.
Love-Hate-Forget
One of my favorite set of questions of all time happens to be something that was designed to be asked in groups of strangers. Something that came from the social experiments I hosted pre-COVID. Not original, but I forget the attribution.
Who did you notice? Who, for whatever reason, rational or not, did you like?
Who, for whatever reason, did you not like or feel it may be hard to be friends with them?
And after all that, who did you, for whatever reason, not notice at all?
Similarly, in the case of deck feedback…
Love
Could you go through the whole deck, spending an average of half a second on each slide? While you do so, could you note, which slides you spend longer than one second on, for whatever reason?
FYI, leave it up to them if they want to elaborate. Sometimes you don’t need to ask. Oxygen usually rises to the top.
If you were to keep just one slide and throw everything else out, which slide would you keep?
Hate
Could you spend up to five seconds per slide? Which slides do you dislike, for whatever reason?
Why?
FYI, typical feedback is usually too messy, no punchline (I don’t get what you’re trying to say), or I don’t agree. The last of which is actually not always bad, depending if it’s a point of view of the world or you’re misrepresenting a fact.
Forget
These are not questions you ask the feedback giver. Rather, these are questions for introspection.
Which slides did the person giving feedback totally ignore?
Why might they have?
More often than not, these are table stakes slides. Delete these slides if you can.
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.
I’ve always been fascinated by how to get to the bottom of things. Yes, you can do your homework into the data, but at the end of the day, you have to go back to people and their experience.
Jeff Bezos has this line: “The thing I have noticed is that when the anecdotes and the data disagree, the anecdotes are usually right. There is something wrong with the way that you are measuring it.”
So, when it comes down to finding the right anecdotes, I’m a big believer that asking the right questions gets you most of the way there. It’s why I started the DGQ series on this blog. Naturally, I spend a lot of time studying others who are better at the craft than I am. After all, I have a long road ahead of me. While this is obviously useful in the context of my podcast, studying the best interviewers has also helped me when:
Listening to founder and GP pitches
Doing diligence
Interviewing potential candidates for a role
Making friends
Small talk
Coffee chats / when asking for advice
And of course, when doing research.
So while you may not have a podcast — or maybe you do — I hope you find the below useful in regards to other aspects of your life.
The callback
What is the callback? A callback — a term quite often used in the comedy circuit — is an allusion to something previously brought up in conversation. It’s not only a sign that you’re actively listening, but that you’re actively engaging in the flow of the conversation. For instance, say you hear someone bring up a quote they liked recently. For the purpose of this example, it’s Amos Tversky‘s line. “You waste years by not being able to waste hours.” Then later in the conversation, they say the last hour flew by so quickly. Then a callback could come in the form of, “Better than wasting a year with me.”
Conan O’Brien is world-class at this, if not best-in-class. If you watch his show or his podcast, you’ll see multiple examples. But probably best illustrated in just the number of times he did it in one episode, I’d recommend his episode with Larry David.
Surprise and delight
The first question in a conversation is often the hardest, but also has the greatest impact towards the rest of the conversation. Getting someone to put down their guardrails without pre-established rapport is really, really hard. It’s why podcasters and TV show hosts alike have pre-chats, where they spend time with each guest to warm them up.
It’s for that reason I have a lot of respect for Sean Evans who hosts Hot Ones. The number of times his guests have responded to his questions with “How did you know that?” and “You really did your research” or “I’ve never been asked that before” is a refreshing take in a world where talk show interviews are just a formality for a celebrity’s road show. And not only does the style and how Sean ask questions set the show apart from literally every other interview that celebrities go on, you can see how his first few questions help him build instant rapport with a guest whether or not they knew each other well before.
That said, I’d be hard-pressed to find just one as he’s able to execute well for most episodes of Hot Ones already. If you’re short on time, the only ones I find to be little less helpful, at least to see the mutual banter, are probably the ones where he’s interviewing himself, or a fictional character (i.e. Donald Duck or himself), or the guest and him go through less than 10 chicken wings (aka the full gauntlet).
Underneath the surface
Despite having hosted a number of fireside chats, when I first started Superclusters, I was obsessed with hitting every question I had prepared. An internal expectation that because the podcast is a public asset and is likely to be online till the end of time made me feel I had to cram as much information into each interview as possible. The funny thing is I still didn’t end up covering the lion share of questions.
For each episode, I end up preparing anywhere between 10 and 30 questions. Yes, you read that latter number right. And yes, for a roughly hour-long podcast. Naturally, there’s no way in hell I’d get to the vast majority of questions, but in mind, I had an internal drumbeat that I felt compelled to keep on pace with.
The more I talked with other seasoned podcasters, the more I realize that while others may not prepare as much research as I do before each interview, the best ones let the conversation flow. They ask great follow-up questions. They spend time on the nuance of words, phrases, even micro-reactions and flinches when guests speak or hear something. One of the most useful pieces of advice I got from a friend, Erica Wenger, was to do all the research you humanly can before each recording. Then, ask the first question, and throw the rest out the door. Which I’ve sinceinternalized.
Tim Ferriss is my favorite on this front. And he does this for almost every single one of his episodes. That said, if you’re looking for a starting point, his episode with Eric Ripert was the first one I actually sat down with pen and paper purely to take notes on how Tim follows up with each of Eric’s comments.
By a friend’s recent recommendation, I also stumbled across The Diary of a CEO podcast. I will admit that the first few episodes I came across I found less interesting from a content perspective. But when three episodes later, I tuned into his episode with Marc Randolph, and holy cow, the depth of questions was clearly a cut above the rest, specifically around when Marc had to step down as CEO of Netflix. And you can just see Steven Bartlett asking one great question after the next.
Avoiding the yes
The fallacy with many rookie podcasters, admittedly my own rookie mistake as well, is that the host doesn’t push back on the guest’s answers enough. When an answer just isn’t good enough. Either the one answering dodges the question or kept their answer too broad.
Hasan Minhaj is my go-to person on this front as he’s incredible at pushing back thoughtfully, which is a really hard thing to do. One of my favorite interviews he did by far was the one he did with Kevin O’Leary on FTX, which Kevin personally invested in.
Drills, drills, drills
I can’t say I got this from any one podcaster, but actually something I learned from my time as a competitive swimmer. For every race we competed, we had to practice sets of twice the distance regularly. Even more so, we had to practice with a handicap, focusing on refining the technique for only part of our body. Be it legs only, or arms only, hell we even swam with our goggles black-sharpied out before. To us, these were drills that would help prepare us for the real thing.
As a podcaster, in case you couldn’t tell, I’m still a work-in-progress. Likely will always be. That said, one of the most helpful ways I’ve found to practice the art of asking questions (since I’m not in race mode every day) is I often listen to the above shows, hear the host ask the question. Then wait for the guest to respond. Then right before the host asks another question, I practice what I would say and where I’d interrupt. And only after I’ve said my response aloud, do I press play again and see what the host would say.
To me, those are the drills I run through when I can to prepare myself when I am eventually on camera. Other times, it’s just fun to see how my response or line of questions would differ from some of these other hosts.
In closing
I’ve often given the excuse that I’m a better writer than I’m a speaker. Which may be true. I often sit with myself during the editing process and wince at words I’ve used or using some complex language to explain what could have been a 140-character question. And the truth is, I’ve held myself back. By giving that very excuse. So now I am earnestly trying to improve. To close that gap, that delta between the way I write and the way I talk. At least from a proficiency standpoint. It may take me a while. But I appreciate every one of you being on this journey with me. And if there’s any advice you can share along this path, as some of you are further along, I’m all ears.
I hope the next time I write something like this, I’ll be further along. And maybe… just maybe, find myself circa today to be embarrassing to watch and listen to.
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.
