Category: Social Experiments

Posted on

Poker, Event Design, and Vulnerability

poker

(FYI, the first three paragraphs, from a content perspective, are all ‘gotcha’ moments and are irrelevant to the lesson one would probably take from this blogpost. Feel free to skip to paragraph four if you don’t need the extra context.)

Yesterday, a good friend of mine invited me to an intimate event he was putting together for experts to share their insight around a particular problem in today’s society. If he’s reading this blogpost, he’s going to insist on the fact that I’m a co-host. A title I’m embarrassed to take on since he does 99% of the work of why this event is as thoughtful as it is every month he does it. But I digress.

At the very end of the event, my VC buddy who came, came up to me to ask for some advice. “David, I host these poker nights every month for about 30-40 people. But I would love your thoughts on how I can make this event format more engaging and also unique, like the way you host your events.”

Spoiler alert. I never gave him a good answer to that question. So, if you came for that answer, joke’s on you. Or if you really want an answer to that, DM me, and I’ll share my thoughts.

But what happened after was quite interesting. My buddy who hosted the event last week — let’s call him, Danny — posited that poker was a particularly bad activity to do for an audience of founders and investors. Why? Lying is not a practice investors want to encourage in the founders they’re backing. The worst thing that can happen in a VC-founder relationship is that you find out the company is dying when it dies because the founder couldn’t be honest with you sooner. You want a clear line of communication between investors and founders all the time, so investors can help you course correct if they see you heading down the wrong road. And poker is a game that encourages lying.

To which, I agree from the angle of VC to founder relationships. Even personally, I don’t jump in any investor-investee relationship if I don’t think that investee (be it GP or founder) cannot be honest and vulnerable with me in the moment or in the long run.

My other VC buddy — let’s call him, Josh — countered with the fact that yes, poker does encourage you to lie, but most people he plays with have a clear separation of church and state. They know that poker is a game. And as a game, the behavior that is exhibited under such rules stays in the game. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

At the same time, while poker isn’t really the game to play to be vulnerable, Josh said that poker is a great environment to see how a founder reacts to stress. As well as, how they deal with the hand they’re dealt, figuratively and literally. You get to see if a person is risk-averse or risk-taking. Under what conditions? And when their competitors get aggressive, do they step up to the challenge or take a back seat. Do they spend time looking at their hand or analyzing their environment?

Again, also a lot of merit to what Josh said.

Then, ensued a bit of back and forth.

In my opinion, they’re both right.

In my experience, most founders don’t lie easily. While I haven’t done any market surveys if founders are more likely to lie if they play poker versus if not, I also believe that most invitations to poker nights among closed circles stay in closed circles. In the sense that most poker hosts pre-qualify if a person is a high integrity individual before they invite a guest to play poker. So in other words, a high selection bias.

People are more prone to lying or hiding facets of the truth when their ego is attacked. When something so core to their identity is questioned and put at risk. The higher the stakes, the more likely someone is to lie. In most poker games, and with sane people, the bets never exceed a meaningful portion of someone’s net worth. They’re not risking tomorrow’s dinner on the table.

Admittedly, in games where the primary adversaries are the other people present there, one is less likely to have opportunities to be vulnerable. Like poker.

On the other hand, in activities or games where the primary adversaries are themselves or the environment, there is no need to hold pretense. As such, people are more likely to be vulnerable. And have opportunities to be vulnerable. Like pottery, or glass-making, or maybe even golf.

That said, humans are creatures of comparison. We tell ourselves narratives that prescribe meaning to our actions and the actions of people around us. So even in the latter situations where the primary adversary is either themselves or the environment, you want the variation of proficiency levels to be low. In other words, each individual’s proficiency level needs to be as close to the median proficiency level as possible. Or what many will call, levelling the playing field.

For instance, let’s take painting. Painting is a skill where the dispersion of proficiency in the world is rather high. Some people exhibit the talent of Picasso or Georgia O’Keefe. Many others are happy with a decent looking stick figure. If the activity is art, one way to level the playing field is that everyone is blindfolded. Each person loses a sense that is quite crucial to their ability to produce great art. A handicap that instantly brings the variance very close to zero.

Take another example. Golf. Another sport where skill levels may differ drastically. One way to collapse the variance function is simply to have everyone swing with their non-dominant hand.

The goal here is not to only handicap the skilled, which may lead to passive aggressive discontentment. The goal here is to handicap everyone and help everyone divorce themselves from tying the result to their ego.

I’ve always optimized for activities and event formats that help people bond. If you search up ‘social experiments’ on this blog, you’ll see exactly what I mean. I love events that elicit curiosity, as opposed to competitive spirit. Maybe it’s to atone for my own competitive spirit. Knowing that if I have the chance to compete, I will. And well, sometimes, when I’ve set my goal on winning, I can be a misery to be around.

P.S. I appreciate all founders and investors who have invited me to poker nights. While I have played in a few, I can confidently say that I suck. I have a terrible poker face. 🙂

P.P.S. For my readers that are way wealthier than I am — you know who you are — I cannot afford your million dollar buy-ins at the table. That is just way too much funny money I do not have.

Photo by Keenan Constance 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.

Posted on

How to Make People Feel Special at Events

gift, present, christmas, happy, holiday

Guilty as charged, but I was doom-scrolling on Instagram recently and I came across a reel where two Formula 1 drivers were asked to guess the race track given only a racecar’s engine’s audio (vroom vroom). And to my absolute amazement, the two were able to guess track after track. Some answers seemed to have only taken them a few seconds to figure out.

The Instagram reel came from this YouTube video for those who are curious.

So I couldn’t help but notice, how well they knew each track. That they had taken special notice to all the small bumps in the road. The turns. How long each turn was. All of it, without any visuals. It’s for the same reason I am always impressed every time Bon Appetit’s Chris Morocco can recreate dishes by taste, smell and feel alone (no sight, he’s blindfolded). A lot of which is in line with the post I wrote last week. It’s not just about paying attention, but how to pay proper attention.

So this time around, I thought why don’t I bring this into the world of events. Something I’m deeply passionate about.

Experiences > Events

“Jonathan Yaffe, co-founder of the experience management platform, AnyRoad, defines an experience as something that stimulates at least three senses.”

I first read that line on page 146 in my buddy Lloyed’s book on community-building. And it made total frickin’ sense. Lloyed went on to write that Zoom sessions don’t count as experiences because it only engages one’s sight and sound. But events like Dining in the Dark, which my friend hosts, do count. Despite taking away sight, you’re tapping into taste, smell, and sound. The last of which occurs when there’s a band playing in the background, but with each course, a new instrument is added into the mix. And it’s because of experiences like these, they leave such strong impressions. Emotional impressions. Nostalgia.

Emotions, after all, are multi-sensory. And eliciting those emotions require you to fully commit. The question is how.

How to make people feel special at events

One of my favorite lessons I picked up during my time at On Deck was from Sam Huleatt. A strike is better than a spare. We were hosting sessions and events three to six times a month, depending on the time of the year. And Sam proposed that we go through an exercise. A thought experiment.

  1. What if we only did one event per month? If so, what would that look like?
  2. What if we only did one every quarter?
  3. And what if we only did one every year?

How does that change the way we think about events? What changes at each stage?

Honestly, one of my favorite exercises to go through when I feel compelled to hit a certain quantity and realize I have to find the optimal point between quantity and quality.

But since then, that inspired another set of thought exercises I do.

  1. If I had to host an event for just one person — just one — what would I do to make it an unforgettable experience?
  2. What would need to change if I did so for a four-person dinner?
  3. A six-person dinner?
  4. What about a 10-person event?
  5. What about for 50 people?
  6. For 100?
  7. For 1000?

And so on.

At some point, usually around 50 is when things start hitting scale. But let me break down why each of the above before 50 are inflection points:

  • 1 person. This person is your universe. You can’t make it any more tailored and personalized than this. It’s a date.
  • 4 people. For the most part, still only one conversation happens at a time, but now as the host, you have to make sure no one is left out.
  • 6 people. In my mind, this is the minimum number of people for more than one conversation to be happening at once. For the first time, you have to worry about flow of the event while you’re not capable of being present everywhere all at once.
  • 10 people. You not have more than two conversations going on. Juggling with two is easy; for some, that may not really be juggling. But once you’ve added a third and a fourth ball, then this is real juggling. Here, the host has to think not only about the number of conversations, but to pay attention to folks who become satellites to conversations. Watching for people who are distracted. Uncomfortable. On their phone. And so on. But also, when conversations go too long. As the host, finding ways for people to enter and exit conversations easily is vital. It’s better to have less time than to have too much time.
  • And 50 people. For the first time, you need to think about having more than one host. You can only scale your time and attention so much. So now you’re training a team to be as attentive, if not more, than you are.

The larger the event, one can say the more polyamorous you have to be. You have to deeply care for each person. And while everyone at your event likely knows you’re “dating” everyone else, if you can still make them feel special — like the most important person in the world, that their time is valued, their attention is valued, and their presence, mind and insights even more so — then you’ll have done something 99.9% of event hosts have not been able to do. Frankly, probably would rather not do. ‘Cause, at least if you start small, it’s not crazy work. It’s quite easy, just requires more effort than most are willing to give.

Other times, event hosts just scale their events too quickly. And hit scale before they find their magic. So, if you can, do unscalable things before you hit scale.

Notice when in a conversation someone’s eyes divert. Notice when they ask to leave to use the restroom. And notice when people lean in to a conversation, as opposed to lean back. Just like a racecar driver notices how many seconds a turn is, when there’s an indent in the road, when the brakes are glazed and the tires need to warm up without having to look at them.

Photo by Kira auf der Heide 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.

Posted on

Three Lessons For Creating Unforgettable Experiences

games, playing, child

As those close to me know, over the past few weeks, I’ve been knee-deep in some new projects. Projects I haven’t been this excited to produce in a long while. One of which is around experiences.

At the same time, as friends and long-time readers of this humble blog know, I am no stranger to the world of social experiments and experiences. I still don’t have a great catch-all term for it. They’re not just another set of “events.” Events just remind me of the same conference, fireside chat, or happy hour playbook. But I try to take my events a step further. So, naturally, given my fascination around building experiences, I walk hand-in-hand with both psychological research and game design. The former of which I share a bit more in previous blogposts than the latter.

So, I’m going to dedicate this essay to three of the lessons I picked up in the latter.

  1. Create experiences that optimize for people who know no one else there.
  2. Don’t confuse complexity with depth.
  3. A great event is great not due to the event itself, but because of the story one gets to tell again and again.

1. Create experiences that optimize for people who know no one else there.

I had always had this somewhere in the back of my head. To design experiences where no one was ever left out. But when I caught up with a friend recently in New York, he codified it into what it is today. As someone who runs a design studio that builds immersive experiences in New York, he spends most of his time building experiences for strangers. And while friends may visit his exhibits together, the vast majority of his attendees do not know anyone else.

Take, for example, happy hours. Most happy hours aren’t designed for the person who knows no one. Usually the event itself is fairly laissez-faire. Most of which, the hosts don’t actively try to connect attendees. And so if you show up at a happy hour and the host is too busy to intro you to anyone, unless you’re an outgoing person, you’re likely standing near the edges, hoping to jump into a conversation if any group will let you. This often leads to events where people leave early and form cliques. It also optimizes for early birds, rather than the fashionably late.

Tactically, it’s creating excuses for people to jump in conversation. While not a problem for outgoing individuals, I need to empower everyone, including shy introverts, with tools to start conversations, where I and/or the experience shoulder the initial responsibility and blame to start conversations. That could be with customized fortune cookies where one is supposed to read their fortune to someone else. Or empowering people with a mission or an ask greater than themselves. For instance, to over-simplify it a bit, “I’m trying to put together a small group of everyone who’s wearing glasses tonight. Do you mind helping me find out all the names of the guests who are wearing glasses?” Or “I’m trying to resolve a debate with my co-host. Pineapples or no pineapples on pizza. I’m all for pineapples, but she isn’t. Can you help me find more allies?”

2. Don’t confuse complexity with depth.

This is unfortunately a fallacy I often find myself spiraling down the longer I’m given to ponder. And I lose myself in intellectual complexity.

Many years ago when a couple friend and I first decided to host an escape room in a mansion over three days and two nights, the greatest question we had was: How do we create an immersive experience over multiple days? And retain that level of immersion throughout? I thought, hell, what if we created a brand new language for the event. One that all guests would have to learn and practice throughout the event. We’d ease them in slowly, but the biggest puzzle could only be solved through adequate mastery in this new language. This easily gave me the greatest injection of dopamine when planning for the event. And I went deep, talking with linguistic professors, studying how Tolkien created Quenya, and how Cameron and Paul Frommer created the Na’vi language.

It was truly interesting to me and to many of my friends. But unfortunately, through user testing, to most others, while interesting to hear its backstory, was not fun to practice. I had ended up developing it to a level to where it departed from its English roots to resembling language of Scandinavian origin. Because of its complexity and how there were more guests who were English speakers than speakers of this new language, immersion broke almost instantaneously.

The great Mark Rosewater once defined interesting as intellectual stimulation and fun as emotional stimulation. While they’re not mutually exclusive, it’s important to not confuse the two.

There’s a great Maya Angelou line that I, like many others, like to reference. “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” And it is no less true for gamified designs. Emotional satisfaction often runs deeper and longer than intellectual satisfaction. The former has a greater chance of becoming a “core memory,” to borrow from the brilliant minds behind Pixar’s Inside Out, than the latter.

I was lucky to learn this lesson from one of the greatest designers of card games alive today. It was on a call earlier this year, where I was telling him about all the awesome bells and whistles I was planning on implementing for an upcoming experience. And I asked what he thought. To which, he responded: “Kill all complexity. Complexity is not a substitute for depth. Rely on your audience for depth. The more borders, the harder it is enjoy. Too few, it’s chaotic. Find the absolute minimum number of borders.”

The goal of creating systems is to create opportunities for serendipity. To create opportunities where people can dive deep. Not to force people to take the plunge when they may not be ready.

His advice just happens to rhyme with a quote I’ve always kept somewhere in the back of my mind, but now sits on the wall above my PC.

“Your ability to solve problems with magic in a satisfying way is directly proportional to how well the reader understands said magic.” — Sanderson’s First Law of Magic

3. A great event is great not due to the event itself, but because of the story one gets to tell again and again.

Under the ambiance of MarieBelle, which I still so fondly remember the moment my friend told me this, she said, “A great event is great not due to the event itself, but because of the story one gets to tell again and again.” It’s the truest definition of surprising and delighting. She was someone who used to work on the Dreamweavers team at Eleven Madison Park when Will Guidara was still there. As such the above lesson was a page out of Will Guidara‘s book Unreasonable Hospitality, whose best known for how intentionally he took front of the house hospitality at 11 Madison Park, one of the greatest restaurants in the world. 4 stars on New York Times, and 3 Michelin stars. He also happened to be the person who conceived the Dreamweavers team there. Just to give you an idea of how seriously they take their roles…

First off, the core of the event itself — the meat, the protein — has to be great. If it’s a tofu burger, it better be a damn well-marinated fat slice of egg tofu, double-fried to perfection. To Malcolm Gladwell, that’s the meal.

And only once you have it all, what’s the cherry on top? What’s the candy? Why would people want to talk about it? For events, that’s:

  • Delivering surprises — gifts and/or experiences they do not expect
  • Transferrable pieces of knowledge — insights, frameworks, or trivia knowledge that are useful even after the event
  • Meeting great people WITH great stories — “Did you know that [so-and-so] did X?” And for this to happen not just opportunistically but at scale, finding ways to help people share stories of vulnerability or of adventures that have yet to grace any public media is key. The easiest way is through questions. The slightly harder way is through a set of triggers where it makes sharing such a story natural.

In closing

I am, as always, a work-in-progress. And with the events I’ll continue to host this year, I’m going to learn more. And in time, be able to share more of my lessons, trials, and tribulations in this journey. In hopes, this will aid or inspire you on your path.

Photo by Holly Landkammer 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.

Posted on

#unfiltered #74 What If Events Were Story Arcs?

castle, story, boat

“Somewhere along the line is a voice deep within you that tells you exactly who you are; you just have to have the courage to do that. That’s what the journey of the hero is all about. You’re born into a world where you don’t fit in. You answer the call to adventure. And you deny the call. Then at some point you then set out on your path. You slay dragons, and you do all of that. At some point, you come face-to-face with not a god, but yourself. Somewhere along the line, you get it — your A-ha moment. Your elixir. And you go back to your ordinary world and share it with others. I think that’s the journey. I think that’s the privilege of being absolutely who you are — belonging to yourself and being brave.”

That’s the arc of every great story in the words of Viola Davis on one of my new favorite interviews with Sean Evans, where she shares the secret to the hero’s journey.

In the world post-pandemic, people crave connection. A desire to go from URL to IRL. Everyone lost those years. Something everyone from a first grader to a college student to a young professional entering the workforce to a retiree could relate to. And in 2021, there was a re-emergence of events. Well-intentioned and well-founded. We had conferences, coffee chats, happy hours, fireside chats, oh, so many happy hours, panels, tech weeks, and… did I mention happy hours?

Most events out there are a time and a place for a collection of people. They’re static points in time. Not even counting the full spectrum of event planners, many of the best event planners spend tons of times on what makes events special, but change more about the small bells and whistles of an event than the overall flow. There are very few who take leaps of faith. Even less true for the vast majority of events, where events feel more of an afterthought than something that is designed to start or end a chapter in your life.

As such, everyone found themselves left with a goodie bag including a surplus of events, a lack of focus and attention, and a lollipop of exhaustion.

So, I had a thought last year, greatly inspired by my team at On Deck Angels. Instead of trying to host an event a month, what would need to change if we could only do one event a year? What would we have to do? Hell, extrapolating further, what if we only did one event every two years? Three years? Every Olympic arc? Which led to the thinking around, what do we need to do to make this the most memorable event that anyone has ever been to.

You see, I’ve hosted and co-hosted small and large-scale social experiments, but it was always for an audience who proactively and voluntarily signed up for. They were willing to do things outside the ordinary. But could I apply the same learnings to events for really, busy people who crave intellectual challenges, and who have been to so many events, they might be jaded?

So, below was and continues to be my collection of governing thoughts around answering that question, which will only grow and refine this year. In the theme of my blogpost last week, the below may be messy. Disorganized. Chaotic, even. Hope not, but possible. You’ve been warned. But I do hope that you might find at least one of the below frameworks useful.

Metrics for success

Every event needs a North Star. When planning the Angel Forum, as well as future events, below are mine.

  1. Attendees go on a hero’s journey, revisiting Viola Davis’ words above. In other words, character development. The event should create opportunities for growth within the event itself.
  2. Every attendee continues to and is motivated to build friendships (as opposed to networking and purely transactional connection) after the event. If the event itself is the only reason for people to connect, but it does not give people incentive to after, it’s a failure (in my books).

For now, that means, not only the speakers and the presenters need to be curated, but also each and every person on the guest list. I have yet to figure out how to customize such experiences at scale, where each person has wildly different goals.

Narrative frameworks I use for events

To dig a level deeper, here are my frameworks for execution:

  1. Surprise and suspense — Surprise is when you relay information that the audience does not expect. Suspense is when you relay information that the audience is expecting, but does not know when it’ll drop. Suspense is how you keep attention. It raises expectation, but knowing when to deliver the news helps with creating a reality that meets or beats expectation. Surprise is, on the other hand, purely for creating alphas in this expectation-versus-reality model. It’s the main driver for overdelivering on a seemingly smaller, but still powerful promise. To do so, I find George Loewenstein’s 1994 paper on the psychology of curiosity super helpful. More on how the five triggers to curiosity influenced my thinking here.
  2. Candy versus the meal — A Malcolm Gladwell framework. Effectively, how people think and what people actually talk about are quite different. Candy is what people talk about. For example, if I were to talk about the recent Avatar movie, I’d talk about how amazing the motion capture and the CGI was. And in doing so, I’ve spoiled nothing. It tells you nothing about the plot, but it’s exciting to talk about. On the other hand, the meal is how people think. It’s the whole package, the whole story. The meal has to be well-worth the visit, but the candy is what gets people excited. More on that in a previous essay I wrote here.
  3. The audience must understand the rules of magic — This is a combination of the thoughts of Malcolm Gladwell‘s framework around tools and Brandon Sanderson’s three laws of magical systems. Give the audience tools to use at the very beginning of the event. It could be a framework for how to think about the event and every activity in between. It could be physical tools that they will employ throughout the event. And once you do, make sure your audience knows how to use those tools. Test them. Give them small, but easy case studies and questions. Make it easy. Don’t put them on the spot. And by completing that test, that satisfaction and joy will help motivate them to use it more later. As Sanderson’s first law of magic goes, “your ability to solve problems with magic in a satisfying way is directly proportional to how well the reader understands said magic.” More on my thoughts on Sanderson’s laws here.
  4. Plots — Like any good story, the narrative is governed by plots. The plot must thicken and build towards a climax. And it must be resolved by the end of the event. Leave little in the main plot to chance, but leave room for each guest to discover something extraordinary. Maintaining a minor amount of stress and uncertainty, while sharing examples and reminders of being open-minded to new experiences, goes a long way. Only after stepping outside one’s comfort zone can one grow.
  5. Always use the audience’s time in a way that does not feel wasted — Inspired by one of the greatest writers of all time, Kurt Vonnegut. I forget which lecture he did that I learned this from. But it’s always been a governing theme for what I do.
  6. End on an ending where the reader can imagine no other — No loose ends. Everything that is teased (whether the audience realizes it or not) needs to be resolved by the end. This might be a semi-controversial opinion among storytellers and creative professionals. But I’m biased. I like my stories to end with a bowtie.

In closing

As you might imagine, much of this is still incomplete. And I hope to share more as I continue down this path of exploration and discovery.

Photo by Artem Sapegin 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!

Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.

Posted on

#unfiltered #62 What I Learned From Hosting Vulnerability Circles

As you know from this blog, I spend a lot of time writing from my head. Startup, this. Venture capital, that. But comparatively little from my heart. This blog, Cup of Zhou, is not going to be the next Stratechery. Or a 20-minute VC. Or a Not Boring. For each one of the afore-mentioned, I have a tremendous respect for. Ben at Stratechery, Harry at 20VC, and Packy at Not Boring all do something I can not. And they do it really, really well. This blog is just nothing more and nothing less than me. It’s not a publicity stunt. And sure as hell, a terrible branding platform. In fact, I’m willing to shoot myself in the foot again and again, as long as I can be true to myself here.

Four people last week reached out to me. Two founders. A friend from college. And another from high school. They told me that life was tough. Things weren’t working out. And rejection sucks. They’re right. Whether your goal is to change the world or have an enduring marriage, life is rarely easy. You’re going to get that left hook more often than you’d like. And rejection fucking sucks. To those who said it gets better over time, it doesn’t. At least for me. You may get desensitized to each blow, but there will always be jabs and uppercuts that will sting more than the rest.

While I find comfort in writing my thoughts here, most people don’t have a safe space to be candid. As COVID is slowing its pace, at least in the Bay where we’ve reached a level of herd immunity, a while back, I decided to start a new series of in-person dinners where people will feel safe being vulnerable.

In hopes that this will help those hosting such circles outside of the Bay, here’s what I learned.

With both online and offline, I played around with a combination of social experiments and social observations. The former, I would lead and guide conversation through centering exercises and intentional “stage time.” The latter of which I would bring everyone together, but spend less time steering the conversation. Both were structured and all attendees were informed of the ground rules, theme for the night, and homework, oftentimes a personal story to share with the group, necessary to bring thoughtful conversation to the table.

Eyes are the windows to the soul

In group settings, shyer attendees would allocate more of their eye contact when speaking towards people they were familiar with. And given that I bring strangers (to each other) together, shyer attendees make eye contact with me – the one person they do know – more often than with others. But as they find more comfort in their fellow attendees, they slowly allocate more attention to them.

I often found that the best remedy for this was in two parts:

  1. Make eye contact with them while speaking,
  2. Mention their name intentionally a few more times than I do with other more confident guests, and
  3. Once they sustain eye contact with you when you’re openly speaking to them, redirect their attention to another attendee by then mentioning an adjacent topic that the other attendee brought up, and making eye contact with the other attendee.

Give people a path to retreat for them to stay.

Vulnerability and true authenticity is tough. For some people, it’s easier to do with strangers. For others, it’s much harder to open up to people who you’ve never met before. Nevertheless, I like to err on the side of caution. Even after I send out personal invites to each person via DM or text, where I give them the context of what they’re about to embark on, I still preface the email that includes all the details, specifically the ground rules of authenticity, open-mindedness, and candor, with: Are you willing to be vulnerable?

Then right below that question:

If your answer is “no“, I completely understand, and I won’t force you to come. Just let me know if you’re opting out, as I need an updated headcount for our reservation.

But if it’s “yes“, … [read on]

And in that same email, everyone is BCC’ed. The guest list on the calendar invite is also not visible to each guest.

Guests have multiple opportunities to opt-out. And they should if they’re uncomfortable with the setting, since the people who do come are the ones who will truly find value in having a vulnerability circle.

Being time sensitive doesn’t matter

I initially thought that people really cared that each session was going to last 2 hours and everyone only had 15 minutes of “stage time”. And the implicit promise that I would be cognizant of everyone’s times mattered. And while it still does to a reasonable degree, it hasn’t seemed to be a priority for folks especially in my social observations. The only times it does matter are:

  1. The energy in the conversation is waning and people start noticing hot silence, as opposed to cold silence.
    • Borrowing the terminology of “hot” and “cold” from Jerry Colonna, hot silence is what most people deem as awkward silence. A silence where people intentionally seek to fill the void. On the other hand, cold silence is where people are comfortable with or seek comfort in the absence of speech. Either that it lets ideas and thoughts ruminate or there is a space for tranquility that one might find calming.
  2. Someone has another commitment right after the event.
  3. People who don’t enjoy the conversations, topics, or people.
    • Luckily, this last one has yet to happen since I curate each person who comes to these circles myself. But, given how many more circles I will host in the future, it’s something I’m aware might happen.

Conversely, many of the ongoing conversations former attendees are still having with each other have come from circles that have gone overtime. This is something I’ll continue to have my pulse on to see if anything deviates from this thesis.

In closing

These vulnerability circles are only the first of many more to come. And of course, future circles will come in different variations. The ones I have planned for early next year thematically revolve around the absence and the dulling of particular senses, in order to heighten other ones. And you betcha I’ll have much more to write about then.

Photo by Cathy Mü 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!

Posted on

#unfiltered #44 Le Raison d’Etre for Social Experiments

social experiment, curiosity

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.

Walter Isaacson‘s recent interview with Tim Ferriss led me to introspect once again. Known for his incredibly intricate studies on the lives of Steve Jobs, Leonardo Da Vinci, Benjamin Franklin, just to name a few, and most recently, Jennifer Doudna, he said:

“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!”

Photo by Joseph Rosales 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!

Posted on

#unfiltered #39 Five Lessons from Trying to Engineer Serendipity in a Virtual Environment

startups, spark, how to engineer serendipity, social experiments

Over the past few months, I’ve been slowly experimenting with how I can take Hidden Questions online, while not sacrificing the intimacy of the relationships it builds as well.

Hidden Questions started as a question game I played with friends and colleagues, which eventually expanded to other strangers. The goal of which was to deepen our friendship within minutes rather than weeks, months, or even years. In sum, a game where each person has to answer the question truthfully, but is not required to reveal what the question is. The catch is that if the person decides to conceal the question, they have to take a “punishment” (i.e. crazy hot sauce, disgusting foods, durian, Beanboozled jelly beans, etc.). Before they decide to or not, other participants can ask clarifying questions, as long as it’s not “Is X the question?”, and bet additional units of “punishment” if the answeree chooses to conceal the question. Of course, if the answeree does reveal, the people who bet will take the “punishment” instead.

Some references:

What’s changed?

After over 30 sessions in the past 3 months, a few things have been hotfixed since the in-person game:

  • One-time perishable links – While not the be all end all, vua.sh lets us create a “secret messages” where only the people with the link can access the question – and only once. Once the link is opened once, it’s dead. So, this gives folks a peace of mind knowing that no one can go back and find out what the questions are. The people who create these questions are the last group/individuals who play.
  • One-slide Powerpoint presentations, reminiscent of Jeopardy, with increasing risk/depth factor of questions, scaling punishments with question difficulty/depth.
  • Mailing the “punishments” to the people I’m playing with, like Sean Evans and his team does for their show, Hot Ones, where they mail their 10 hot sauces to their guest before the interview. This way, I can keep people accountable to the punishments
  • Zoom, or an equivalent web conferencing tool – Social distancing at its best. Even better now, ’cause I get to play with people outside the Bay Area as well.

The five lessons I learned

  1. Total conversation time virtually = 100%. Total conversation time in-person > 100%.
  2. First answer makes a difference.
  3. For group calls, preface with introspective intros.
  4. The “extroverts” take over.
  5. Take the bio break.
Continue reading “#unfiltered #39 Five Lessons from Trying to Engineer Serendipity in a Virtual Environment”
Posted on

2020 Year in Review

I’ve written 102 essays on this blog in the past year, plus some change, spending an average of 1-2 hours per piece and a range from 30 minutes to 2 weeks. An average of 1,200 words per post. While not mutually exclusive, over half of which were on startup topics. One in three described the venture capital landscape. 36 (excluding #0) #unfiltered blog posts, where I share my raw, unfiltered thoughts about anything and everything. 16 on mental health. A surprising 13 on cold emails and its respective ecosystem. And my first public book review. Some didn’t age well, like The Marketplace of Startups. Some will stay evergreen.

25% of my blog posts I started writing at least 48 hours before the publish date. 1 in every 3 (-ish) of the afore-mentioned, I rewrote because I didn’t like the flow. For every 2 essays I wrote, 1 of which I had to wrestle deeply with the thought of imperfection. In effect, half of my essays were a practice to overcome my own mental stigma of “writer’s block.” Yet after over a year of writing, I realize that I’ve become prouder of my writing than when I started.

So, as the year is transitioning into the next, I thought I’d take some time to reflect on my growth 100 (+2) posts after starting this blog. Let’s call them superlatives.

Top 10 most popular

Ranked by total views per post, the 10 posts readers visit the most.

  1. #unfiltered #30 Inspiration and Frustration – The Honest Answers From Some of the Most Resilient People Going through a World of Uncertainty – I asked 31 people I deeply respect to share some of their greatest drivers and darkest moments in life and how they got through them. You can find part 2 here with 10 more thoughts.
  2. My Cold Email “Template” – My friends have asked me for years what I write in my cold emails, and now, what and how I write my cold outreaches are available for your toolkit.
  3. Fantastic Unicorns and Where to Find Them – An essay on the parameters and the mental models investors use to find “unicorn” startup ideas.
  4. When Investor Goodwill Backfires – What It Means to be Founder-Friendly and Founder-Investor Fit – How founders can do investor diligence before signing the term sheet and also how to best manage founder-investor dynamics
  5. #unfiltered #24 How long do you take to prepare for a talk? – A Study about Time Allocation
  6. How to Build Fast and Not Break (As Many) Things – A Startup GTM Playbook
  7. 10 Letters of Thanks to 10 People who Changed my Life – Every holiday season I write thank you letters to the people I deeply respect. It’s one of the best times of the year to reconnect. These are the letters I wrote in 2019. Here are also some I wrote this year for more context.
  8. #unfiltered #18 Naivety vs Curiosity – Asking Questions, How to Preface ‘Dumb’ Questions, Tactics from People Smarter than Me, The Questions during Founder-Investor Pitch
  9. #unfiltered #11 What I Learned About Building Communities through Social Experiments – Touching Jellyfish, Types of Social Experiments, The Thesis, Psychological Safety and Fairness
  10. The Marketplace of Startups – While many of the remarks on this blog post are now obsolete, largely incited by the 2020 Black Swan event – COVID, the two questions at the end of the blog post are the two I still like to ask founders today.

Personal favorites

While not every one of these got the limelight I had hoped, each of these are ones I felt great pride in being able to write on.

Most challenging to write

I had been wrestling with how vulnerable I can allow myself to be in the public space. Writing this post was frightening, but I’m glad I did. It cascaded into deeper conversations with my friends, colleagues and readers, but also inspired more blog posts after this about mental health.

#unfiltered #26 Am I At My Best Right Now?

In closing

I first started this blog with the intention of chronicling my own learnings in the amazing world of venture. While I couldn’t guarantee it would be helpful to every individual reading my humble meandering, I could, at least, guarantee what I write has been or continues to be instructive for me.

Within the first month it had evolved into an FAQ and a means to provide value to as many founders as I can when one day the number of people I want to help exceed my available bandwidth. Wishful thinking at the time, but a cause that inspired me forward. After the first six months, with the introduction of the #unfiltered series, I began to write to think – a way to flush out simple, unrefined ideas to more robust concepts. While I’ll forever be a work in progress, I began to make new dendrite connections that never existed before. In a way, I was and am still chronicling my own journey in hopes that it will continue to guide people beyond my immediate sphere of influence.

Thank you, each and every one of you, for accompanying me on this journey we took yesterday and the one we’ll take tomorrow. And I hope this cognitive passport will continue to serve as your cup o’ Zhou (/joe/) weekly.

Cheers, and I’m excited for the adventure ahead!

Photo by Ray Hennessy 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!

Posted on

#unfiltered #27 The Impetus of My Social Experiments – Higher Research and the Application to Startups

bunny, egg, curiosity, curious, social experiments

People seem to love origin stories – both in theatre and in life.

“How did it all start?”

“How did you get into this career?”

Or…

“How did you meet your wife/husband?”

And well, I can’t say I’m one to push back on that.

There’s something truly magical about “Once upon a time…”. And I’m no stranger to fairy tales. Growing up, I was largely influenced by older female cousins and family friends. As soon as our parents left to their wine-sipping adult gossip around a table of blackjack, my cousins and older female friends would drag us to watch their favorite Disney movies on the VCR, namely princess movies. I’m not exaggerating when I say I’ve seen Beauty and the Beast more than 100 times or Cinderella more than 50 times. In fact, my friends in elementary school would talk about their favorite movies – Transformers, LEGO Bionicles, Peter Pan, and Tarzan. Yet, mine was Disney’s 1998 Mulan.

And they all started with “Once upon a time…”

So, it was no surprise when friends, colleagues, and then strangers started asking me:

“How/when/why did you start hosting social experiments?”

Continue reading “#unfiltered #27 The Impetus of My Social Experiments – Higher Research and the Application to Startups”
Posted on

#unfiltered #24 How long do you take to prepare for a talk? – A Study about Time Allocation

notes, prepare for a talk, public speaking

Last week, my mentor/friend asked me if I knew anyone who’s stellar at storytelling and would be willing to hold a 1-hour workshop about it with his mentorship group. I connected with my buddy who earned his chops podcasting and being a brilliant customer-oriented founder, specifically on the user journey.

And it got me thinking. Hmmmm, I wonder how long people take to prep for a workshop or talk designed to inform and educate. Which eventually led me to the question… How much time allocation might many event hosts underestimate when asking a speaker to speak at their event?

Well, outside of travel, set up, rehearsal time, and of course, the length of the talk/workshop itself.

So, over the last few days, I reached out to 68 friends, mentors, and colleagues who have been on the stage before, including:

  • VCs – who invest out of vehicles that range from $5M to $1B (sample-specific)
  • Angels – investing individuals, who have over $1M in net worth
  • Founders – both venture-backed and bootstrapped
  • Executives – Fortune 500 and startup
  • Journalists
  • Influencers – YouTubers and podcasters
  • Consultants/Advisors
  • Professors
  • And, those who’ve been on public stages with 1000+ in live viewership.

… and asked them 2 questions:

  1. How long, in hours, do you take to prepare for a 1-hour talk?
    • For the purpose of slightly limiting the scope to this question, let’s say it’s on a topic you’re extremely passionate and well-versed in, and the audience is as, if not more, passionate than you are.
  2. And if I said this was for a high-stakes event, that may change your career trajectory, would your answer change? If so, how long would you spend prepping?

50 responded, with numerical answers, by the time I’m writing this post, with a few results I found to be quite surprising. *pushing my nerd glasses*

Continue reading “#unfiltered #24 How long do you take to prepare for a talk? – A Study about Time Allocation”
Proudly powered by WordPress