Three moons ago, I jumped on a call with a founder who was in the throes of fundraising and had half of his round “committed”. And yes, he used air quotes. So, as any natural inquisitive, I got curious as to what he meant by “committed”. Turns out, he could only get those term sheets if he either found a lead or could raise the other half successfully first. Unfortunately, he’s not the only one out there. These kinds of conversations with investors have been the case, even before COVID. But it’s become more prevalent as many investors are more cautious with their cash. And frankly, a way of de-risking yourself is to not take the risk until someone else does.
I will say there are many funds out there where as part of the fund’s thesis, they just don’t lead rounds. But your first partner… you want them to have conviction.
Just like, no diet is going to stop me from having my mint chocolate chip with Girl Scout Thin Mints, served on a sugar cone. I’m salivating just thinking about it, as the heat wave is about to hit the Bay. An investor who has conviction will not let smaller discrepancies, including, but not limited to:
Crowded cap table,
No CTO,
College/high school dropout,
Lower than expected MRR or ARR,
No ex-[insert big tech company] team members,
Or, no senior/experienced team members,
… stop them from opening their checkbook. And just like I’ll find ways to hedge my diet outlier, through exercise or eating more veggies, an investor will find ways to hedge their bets, through their network (hiring, advisors, co-investors, downstream investors), resources, and experience.
So, what is that telltale sign of a lack of conviction?
I will preface by first saying, that the more you put yourself in front of investors, the more you’ll be able to develop an intuition of who’s likely to be onboard and who’s likely not to. For example, taking longer than 24 hours to respond to your thank you/next steps email after that pitch meeting. Or, on the other end, calling someone “you have to meet” mid-meeting and putting you on the line.
It seems obvious in retrospect, but once upon a time, when I was fundraising, I just didn’t let myself believe it was true. That investors just won’t have conviction when they ask:
Who else is interested?
A close cousin includes “Who else have you talked to?” (And what did they say?). If their decision is contingent – either consciously or subconsciously – with benchmarking their decision on who else is going to participate (or lead), you’re not talking to a lead (investor). And that initial hesitation, if allowed manifest further, won’t do you much good in the longer run, especially when things get bumpy for the company. Robert De Niro once said, in the 1998 Ronin film,
“Whenever there is any doubt, there is no doubt.”
You want investors who have conviction in your business – in you. Who’ll believe in you through thick and thin. After all, it’s a long-term marriage. Admittedly, it takes time and diligence to understand what kind of investor they are.
In closing
Like all matters, there are always other confounding and hidden variables. And though no “sign” is your silver bullet for understanding an investor’s conviction. Hopefully, this is another tool you can use from your multi-faceted toolkit.
From spending time with some of the smartest folks on both sides of the table and from personal observations, even if it’s anecdotal, the sample size should be significant enough to put weight behind the hypothesis. And, if I ever find myself wanting to ask that question, I aim to be candid, and tell founders that I’m not interested.
The other day, I jumped on a call with a friend who was going through a speed bump in his relationship. Though I’m no behavioral scientist nor expert in all matters regarding relationships, I’ve been privy to cousin cases between other couples, dorm-mates and roommates, as well as startup teams. And like most people out there, I’ve been through my fair share as well.
From my own experience, as well as from being a fly on the wall to others’, a large portion of the drama starts with the time spent dancing around the elephant in the room. And the longer a pair (or more) dances, the worse it gets. At the same time, it’s easier said than done. Rationally, we know that we should start with the truth. But frankly, it’s hard for many of us, myself included, to speak the truth when we need to. And in my hesitation, I usually regress to thinking: “Maybe it’ll get better over time. Maybe he/she will just forget about it. Maybe someone else will solve it in my place.”
Though I’ve gotten better at getting straight to the point, I’ve, by no means, mastered my approach.
“The truth has legs. It’s the only thing that will be left standing at the end of the day… And since that’s where we’re going to end up, why don’t we just start with it?”
The Boiling Frog Problem
As all drama goes, we end up beating ourselves and others up in the process. Yet, when the dust settles, we still come back to the one left standing. There’s a similar concept that I learned in a college business course called the boiling frog problem.
If you put a frog in boiling water right away, it’ll jump out. But if you put the frog in lukewarm water and slowly heat it up, it won’t notice until it’s too late. And for the sake of the analogy, end up dying in the latter case.
The emotional turmoil we go through in our daily lives is no exception. It’s much easier to address the problem from the get-go, then let it rot you inside out. To put it into perspective, let’s say you address the problem at the beginning. There are only two outcomes possible:
It’s not as bad as you expected, and you’re able to resolve it easily.
It’s just as bad as you thought it’d be (as your mind regresses to the worst case possible). And well, you get burnt, as expected. But you will come out as a stronger person than when you went in. A phoenix reborn.
In closing
In tricky times, many of our relationships have been put on the rocks. The important part isn’t the conflict itself, but how we resolve the conflict. A frame of mind where there is no blame to dish out, but taking mutual responsibility to come out stronger in finding the resolution. Mike Maples Jr, co-founder of Floodgate, one of the most successful VC firms in the Valley, once said:
“Ego is about who’s right. Truth is about what’s right.”
It’s been a trying time for founders to fundraise in these turbulent times. On one end, you have investors who took a U-turn on plans to invest this year. On the other, you have investors still deploying or looking to deploy capital. The latter further breaks down into: (a) investors who are taking more calculated bets – raising the bar for the kind of startup that gets the capital, and (b) investors who find the opportunity to invest in the down markets. The latter cohort of the latter cohort seems to hold truer at and prior to the pre-seed stages among microfunds and angel groups.
The Tightening of the Market
Disregarding the investors who aren’t deploying capital anymore, it’s been harder than ever to raise. Here’s why:
Anecdotally, more startups are looking to fundraise. Many have pushed up their fundraising schedules.
The standard is much higher now than before. And that includes a stronger consideration for the problem you’re addressing. Is it anti-fragile? Is it recession-proof? If your numbers are down now, will they eventually ‘flip’ back on track post-quarantine?
Valuations are taking a hit. Where before your startup may have been overvalued (especially in Silicon Valley), many startups are facing “more realistic” round sizes. And flat or down rounds are more prevalent.
When investors can’t meet founders in-person, they’re resorting to data, data, data. Investors no longer have the luxury to benchmark a gut check over Zoom/email, as they would have in noticing micro-gestures and other situational context clues. Anecdotally, investors are spending much more time and putting much more weight on diligence than before.
And, that’s why founders, more than ever, should (re)consider fundraising strategies. This was something that I learned when I was on the operating side and at one point, working on the fundraising front for Localwise.
Much like when high school students apply for college, founders should have a three-tiered list – SMR, as I like to call it:
Safety,
Meet,
And, reach.
Safety
Safety investors are those that are definitely going to take the meeting. And will most likely invest in you (i.e. at the idea stage, this mostly comprises of family, friends, and colleagues, maybe even early fans via crowdfunding). Admittedly, they can only contribute small sums of money. Each check also carry little to no strategic weight on the cap table.
Meet
Meet investors are investors that will most likely take the first meeting, but you’ll need to do a little leg work to get them to invest. Many of these will most likely stick to being participants than leads in any round. They carry some strategic weight on the cap table – in the capacity of their network, their brand, or advice.
Reach
Your reach investors will be your greatest sponsors. The people who have the highest potential to get you hitting the ground running. These folks usually have crowded inboxes already. And you’ll need to figure out how to best reach them. Unless they reach out to you, you will most likely fall just short of their gold standard. But once you stget these onboard, your relationship will set you up for reaching your next milestone better than any other individual partnership. At the same time, they will be the ones who are most likely going to have true conviction behind your product, your market insight, and your team. They typically lead rounds, and carry great strategic value to your startup (i.e. top tier investors, SMEs, product leaders in your respective vertical). For lack of better words, your ‘dream girl’ or ‘guy’.
Your Priorities
When pitching (and practicing your pitch), go for a bottom-up approach. Safety, then meet, then finally reach. And ideally, by the time you’re pitching to your ‘dream girl’ or ‘guy’, you’d have refined your pitch that best fits their palate.
When prioritizing time and effort, go top-down. Since you have limited bandwidth, spend the most time doing diligence on your reach investors. Then meet. And if you still have time, safety.
Diligence and Reaching Out
During your diligence process, look at their team, their individual and collective experience. Is their partnership, especially the checkwriters, diverse? Were they former operators? Or career VCs? And based on what they have, what do you, as a founder, need the most right now? Also, to better understand the marriage you’ll be getting in to, talk to their portfolio startups and investors that have worked with them before. Pay special attention to the the venture bets that didn’t work out. Was there a break up? If there was, what was it like? How did the investor help them navigate tough times?
It’s easy to be positive and cohesive when things are working out, but how does that investor react when things aren’t going as expected?
After talking to the (ex-)portfolio founders, if you feel like they have a good grasp on what you’re working on and are excited for you, ask them for an intro. Focus on those founders who have gone through the idea maze in your respective vertical, or an adjacent one. If you’re defining a new vertical, or that investor has just never invested in your vertical, but has expressed public interest of pursuing investments in yours, ask founders who have the same or a similar business model to yours. After all, that’s going to be the kind of solid warm intro you want.
In Closing
Though there are other ways to get in front of investors (some more questionable and/or gutsy than others), including, but not limited to:
Warm intros from friend/mutualLinkedIn connection,
Cold email/DM,
Reaching out to a more junior team member (scout/analyst/associate/principal),
Presenting at accelerator/incubator Demo Days,
Presenting at a hot conference, like TC Disrupt or SXSW,
Volunteering at the same non-profit as them,
Auditing their lecture at Stanford,
Or, squeezing into their elevator (although most VC offices are pretty lateral)…
… anecdotally, it seems many founders overlook the means of getting an intro from a VC’s portfolio.
Last Friday, I jumped on a call with my wickedly-creative founder friend. Given his cognitive flexibility, our conversations usually span a multitude of topics. And our Friday call was no exception – from product design to community management to de-stressors. Then, finally, marriage counseling and its applications in managing team dynamics.
Empirically, I focused my attention on co-founder dynamics when sharing an exercise I learned in my expedition to find the curiously passionate and the passionately curious. But I realize now that there are so many direct parallels on a broader scale to teams at large. From none other than a marriage counselor.
I want to preface that this exercise isn’t designed to be universal. And there’s a good chance it may not be useful for the situation you’re in or have been in. But nevertheless, hopefully, it can be another tool in your toolkit. So, if ever, when you do feel the need, it’s something that you can pull from your arsenal.
The Exercise
Start every day gauging your individual gross energy level (i.e. motivation, excitement, emotional state) on a percentage scale with your partner(s)*.
* Yes, this was shared to me from a perspective that was inclusive of various forms of romantic relationships, including polyamory. Though I find it to be equally useful, when used among multiple co-founders/team members.
To put it into perspective, I usually sit around a 60-70%. When I’m inspired, motivated, or feel I can take on the world, I’m at 90-110%. Although extremely rare, when I’m down (i.e. sick, depressed, sad, unmotivated, stressed, in emotional turmoil, burnt out, or when I just want to regress to my shell), I’m usually at a 10-20%.
Assess if you and your partner(s)’ collective energy level add up to 100% or more.
If one of you is feeling down, can (the rest of) you make up for that energy deficiency?
If I’m feeling 10%, and I just find it hard to get shit done, can my partner make up that 90% and help us as a team champion the day?
And let the person hovering 10% take the day off.
If the collective energy just isn’t there, then the team falls on 2 types of contingency plans.
Can you design a system (or if you already have a system in place) where all of you don’t have to put in 100%, but can still get things done?
Maybe this is the day to clean your house. Or wash the car.
For founding teams, maybe this is the day the whole team just does data entry.
For content creators, I hear this is the day to go through fan mail.
Take the day off. Yes, the full day. And, no halfies. As great philosopher, Ron Swanson, once said:
“Never half-ass two things; whole ass one thing.”
Go take a day trip into the wilderness. Play video games. Read a fiction book. Draw. People-watch in a cafe (well, after the quarantine). Netflix-binge. Go tackle something on your bucket list.
And cap the downside – the potentiality of a slippery slope. I usually cap it at 3 days. Any longer, the counselor recommended seeing a relationship specialist.
Relationship counselor, if romantic.
Therapist/psychologist, if emotional.
Executive coach, if pertinent to co-founders.
Organizational therapist/psychologist, if pertinent to team.
What I didn’t realize until the Call
It seems obvious in retrospect, but it didn’t click until my buddy and I were thinking aloud. Subsequently, we realized how pertinent that exercise can be in understanding team workflows, as well as knowing when to double down and when to backpedal. Productivity has taken a sharp decline in this pandemic. For many, they’ve felt busier and working longer than before. The lack of diverse human interactions – for both extroverts and introverts – is really taking a toll. After all, we’re a social species. For managers, co-workers, and lateral teams, this exercise can be a way you can proactively assess your team’s morale and mental health. Assess early and optimize flexibly.
I dedicated three-quarters of my life before I turned 18 to swimming. More than half of which I spent competitively. Although I never amounted to a Michael Phelps or Katie Ledecky, the years I spent swimming were some of the happiest, yet character-building times of my life.
I was a mid-to-long-distance swimmer – anything between 200 yards (or meters) to miles-long open-water swims in the SF Bay. By golly, the waters in the latter ‘pool’ were dirty. I couldn’t see my own hand when I reached out underwater. But I digress. As a distance swimmer, the biggest lesson I learned was how to fight the mental battlefield.
The Legs of a Race
Coach taught me to break every race down into 4 quarters. The first leg, the second leg, the third leg, and the last leg.
The first leg is comparatively the easiest. You’re brimming with energy, motivation and (potentially nervous) excitement. As long as you don’t exhaust yourself in this leg, but put in enough effort to break away from the pack, you’re golden. And in doing so, you’re going at 80% of your top speed.
The second leg is when you start engaging in a psychological battle with your competitors. Understand where they are in the race, as well as their racing personas.
Are they a front-half or back-half swimmer?
Are they a sprinter from the blocks?
Do they typically negative split in a race?
In an individual medley (IM) race, what’s their best stroke? Their worst stroke?
I typically dial back to 70% speed.
The last leg is probably the second easiest. You burn everything and anything you have in the tank. The goal is in sight – within reach. It comes down to how well you’ve raced the first three legs, and how much you trained. Effectively, it is a battle of strength – a Hail Mary. 110% speed.
Now let’s rewind back to the crucial leg I skipped. The whole reason I started writing this post.
The Third Leg of the Race
Whereas the second leg is based on ‘external warfare’ and the last leg is based on ‘physical warfare’, the third leg, and arguably the most important, is one based on ‘internal warfare’. By this point in the race, you’ve exhausted more than half of your energy, yet you’re expected to output more than when you started. You’re worn and tired. And, you can’t see the goal yet, so you know you have to save some strength for the last leg.
Yet, if you can hold this leg, it can mean the difference between a win and a loss. If you lose this leg and succumb to your thoughts, your chances of winning are slim. Quite frankly, it sucks.
So I made bets with myself.
“If I can finish this lap in 14 strokes, where I’m reaching out and scooping that ice cream just out of my arm’s reach, I’m going to treat myself to some Haagen Dazs after. One scoop for every lap I succeed in.”
“I’m going to flip turn faster than my opponents. And if I can do this thrice in a row, I’m going to get rock-solid abs when I finish this race.”
“I’m going to hold my breath till the other side of the pool, so I can smell and taste the teriyaki chicken.” *At swim meets, they’re always selling teriyaki chicken and rice for lunch. It’s greasy, super salty. But if you add some sriracha, it is a hungry swimmer’s heaven.
As you might notice, some of my bets were outright ludicrous. But it was because they were crazy that I was motivated to keep going. When there were no tangible goals, I made my own.
Why am I sharing this?
Life, seeking employment, running a business, and so much more run in the same way. After your academic career, no one really tells you what your goals are or can be. You have to make your own. When you’re job-seeking and no interviews are coming your way, you have to muster the strength to continue applying – either spraying and praying or finding creative ways to obtain certain opportunities.
In startup land, day 1 till day 365 (or even till day 730) will be a honeymoon. It’ll be the first leg. You’re hacking away by yourself or with pals on something you feel strongly about. For many, your next leg is scoping out the competition and pacing yourself.
Should you launch with press releases on TC, NY Times, etc?
Should you stay in stealth?
Can you continue bootstrapping?
Do you need to hire more people to help you out?
Which distribution channels are the most effective? Overlooked by competitors, but you think there’s a lucky draw in it.
And then, there’s the third leg. The leg that will decide if your adoption curve forms a hockey stick or a pitcher’s mound. You have a vague idea of where you need to go, but you haven’t hit critical mass. You’re questioning your initial assumptions. You might even be questioning yourself. Did you make the right calls? Is there anything you missed? What went wrong? Should you have just taken the job your friend offered?
But if there’s anything we’ve learned from some of the best entrepreneurs out there. It’s the ones who weather the storm – the ones who have that grit – that often make it. Being able to weather that third leg doesn’t guarantee success. But not being able to weather it is close to a sure-fire for failure.
As a world…
We’re on the third leg now.
And what we do now will decide if we win or lose the race.
Many founders I meet focus on, and rightly so, optimizing their core metrics – a set of units that surprisingly don’t change after its initial inception. But metrics and the way you measure them should undergo constant iteration. Metrics are a way to measure and test your assumptions. 9/10 assumptions, if not all, are honed through the process of iteration. And by transitive property, the metrics we measure, but more importantly, the way we measure them, is subject to no less.
Though I’m not as heavily involved on the operating side as I used to be, although I try to, the bug that inspires me to build never left. So, let’s take it from the perspective of a project a couple friends and I have been working on – hosting events that stretch people’s parameters of ‘possible’. Given our mission, everything we do is to help actuate that. One such metric that admittedly had 2 degrees of freedom from our mission was our NPS score.
The “NPS”
“How likely would you recommend a friend to come to the last event you joined us in?” Measured on a 1-10 scale, we ended up seeing a vast majority, unsurprisingly in hindsight, pick 7 (>85%). A few 9’s, and a negligible amount of 5s, 6s, and 8s. 7 acted as the happy medium for our attendees, all friends, to tell us: “We don’t know how we feel about your event, but we don’t want to offend you as friends.”
We then made a slight tweak, hoping to push them to take a more binary stance. The question stayed the same, but this time, we didn’t allow them to pick 7. In forcing them to pick 8 (a little better than average) and 6 (a little worse than average), we ended up finding all the answers shift to 6s and 8s and nothing else. Even the ones that previously picked 9s regressed to 8s. And the ones who picked 5s picked 6s. Effectively, we created a yes/no question with just this small tweak.
There’s 3 fallacies with this:
Numbers are arbitrary. An 8 for you, may not be an 8 for me. Unless we create a consolidated rubric that everyone follows when answering this question, we’re always going to variability in semi-random expectations.
It’s a lagging indicator. There’s no predictive value in measuring this. By the time they answer this question, they’d already have made their decision. Though the post-mortem is useful, the feedback cycle between events was too long. So, we had to start looking into iterating the event live, or while it was happening.
Answers weren’t completely honest. All the attendees were our friends. So their answers are in part, a reflection of the event, but also in part, to help us ‘save face’.
In studying essentialism, Stoicism, and Rahul Vohra‘s Superhuman, we found a solution that draws on the emotional spectrum that answered 1 and 3 rather well. Instead of phrasing our questions as “How much do you value this opportunity?”, we instead phrased them as “How much would you sacrifice to obtain this opportunity?” Humans are innately loss-averse. Losing your iPhone will affect you more negatively and for longer, than if you won a $1000 lottery.
So, our question transformed into: “How distraught would you be if we no longer invited you to a future event?”, paired with the answers “Very”, “Somewhat”, and “Not at all”. Although I’m shy to say we got completely honest answers, the answers in which we did give allowed for them to follow-up and supplement why they felt that way, without us prompting them.
The only ‘unaddressed’ fallacy by this question – point #2 – was resolved by putting other methods in place to measure attention spans during the event, like the number of times people checked their phone per half hour or the number of unique people who were left alone for longer than a minute per half hour (excluding bio breaks).
Feedback
“How can we improve our event?” We received mostly logistical answers. Most of which we had already noticed either during the event or in our own post-mortem.
In rephrasing to, “How can we help you fall in love with our events?”, we helped our attendees focus on 2 things: (1) more creative responses and (2) deep frustrations that ‘singlehandedly’ broke their experience at the event.
And to prioritize the different facets of feedback, we based it off the answers from the questions:
“What was your favorite element of the event?”
And, “How distraught would you be if we no longer invited you to a future event?”
For the attendees who were excited about elements closely aligned with our mission, we put them higher on the list. There were many attendees who enjoyed our event for the food or the venue, though pertinent to the event’s success, fell short of our ultimate mission. That said, once in a while, there’s gold in the feedback from the latter cohort.
On the flip side, it may seem intuitive to prioritize the feedback of those who were “Very distraught” or “Not at all”. But they exist on two extremes of the spectrum. One, stalwart champions of our events. The other, emotionally detached from the success of our events. In my opinion, neither cohort see our product truly for both its pros and cons, but rather over-index on either the pros or the cons, respectively. On a slight tangent, this is very similar to how I prioritize which restaurants to go to or which books to read. So, we find ourselves prioritizing the feedback of the group that lie on the tipping point before they “fall in love” with our events.
Unscalability and Scalability
We did all of our feedback sessions in-person. No Survey Monkey. No Google Forms, Qualtrics, or Typeform. Why?
We could react to nuances in their answers, ask follow-up questions, and dig deeper.
We wanted to make sure our attendees felt that their feedback was valued, inspired by Google’s Project Aristotle.
And, in order to get a 100% response rate.
We got exactly what we expected. After our post-mortem, as well as during the preparation for our next event, I would DM/call/catch up with our previous attendees and tell them which feedback we used and how much we appreciated them helping us grow. For the feedback we didn’t use, I would break down what our rationale was for opting for a different direction, but at the same time, how their feedback helped evolve the discourse around our strategic direction. Though their advice was on the back burner now, I’ll be the first to let them know when we implement some element of it.
The flip side of this is that it looks extremely unscalable. You’re half-right. Our goal isn’t to scale now, as we’re still searching for product-market fit. But as you might notice, there are elements of this strategy that can scale really well.
In closing
Of course, our whole endeavor is on hold during this social distancing time, but the excitement in finding new and better ways to measure my assumptions never ceases. So, in the interim, I’ve personally carried some of these interactions online, in hopes of discovering something about virtual conversations.
This is embarrassing to admit, but 6 years ago, I barely knew what a resume was. As a hint of my ignorance, my first ‘resume’ was 3 pages long, double-spaced, and included two lines explaining a babysitting license I got back in middle school. So, within 10 seconds of it going up, I signed up for the resume workshop. In my hurry, I signed up for the first spot with the first “critique-er” I saw.
When the fateful day arrived, he didn’t show up at our appointed time. After waiting 15 minutes and asking the workshop leads, it turned out he was stuck in the depths of traffic.
But hell, I wasn’t going to go home empty-handed. So, I went around the bustling room, catching each “critique-er” there whenever they had a break, to ask them to look over my sad excuse of a resume. By the end of the two-hour workshop, I had taken notes about the flaws of my resume from every alumni there – half of whom ran through various interview questions with me – except for one. The one I had initially signed up with.
After hearing gossip and rumors from the alumni of how brutally honest he was, I had to meet this mysterious fellow. Eventually, he arrived. And luckily, the alumni invited me to join them for a late dinner. And that night, he left me with one sentence: “If you want my advice, you better take it seriously.” Not in the sense that I need to follow exactly what he tells me, but that I won’t hear then forget it the next morning.
Over the years, I’ve truly appreciated the analytical mind he brought to temper my creative mind. His advice saved my neck saved my neck at multiple crossroads of my career. He was able see around the corner when I couldn’t – a tactical mentor. Though I didn’t use his advice every single time, I always came back to him with the post-mortem.
How did I use his advice?
If I did, what was its impact?
If I didn’t, what was my internal calculus for choosing so?
He never pressured me to use his advice, nor did he ask that I report back to him each time. But I did. Over the years, I’ve been there for his highs and lows, just like he has been there for mine. Before we became mentor and mentee, we realized we had become friends. Ironically, to this day, he still hasn’t seen my resume.
The Bigger Picture
You might call it availability bias, but over the 6 years since then, I’ve reached out to many people – punching above my weight class, inspired to seek mentorship. But out of all the 20+ people that I asked for mentorship on the get-go, not a single one was willing to take on the responsibility for a stranger. And rightly so. Like any other relationship, mentorship requires time and commitment. Without any precedence, it’s hard to make that decision with asymmetric information.
The Venture Parallel
Even as investors, who notoriously have to be willing to not only mentor others through “just a pitch”, but also commit dollars to where their mouth is at, each round of startup funding takes at least 60-90 days of diligence and working together, before we invest. Our goal is to be ‘the best dollar on your cap table‘.
In a literal sense, a dollar is a dollar. Whether you get it from your parents as an allowance when you were 7 years old or from your managerial salary at 27 years old, it’s the same. But, in venture, there’s ‘dumb money’ – money in its most literal sense. And there’s ‘smart money’ – money that comes with advice, resources, social and professional networks, and help.
In most cases, an early-stage founder wants ‘smart money’. In that frame of mind, you want the investor(s) that have the best networks, the best resources, the best expertise, and possibly, the best brand, at your stage of a business. So your pitch should be hyper-specific. As with any ask in the world, nothing is ever guaranteed. But, to increase your chances of a “yes”, the best founders build that relationship before they need to fundraise.
Circling Back
For any other person out there, whose day job isn’t to take measured capital risk, you’ll have to work even harder to convince someone to take that leap of faith with you.
When you ask for mentorship, or advice, in general, follow through with it. Make it known that it is valued. And, show your progress after having tried it out. No person speaks hoping to reach deaf ears. So, if you don’t think you’ll have the mental and physical bandwidth to turn advice into action, don’t ask for advice. And definitely, don’t ask for mentorship. It’s not worth your time or theirs.
As a footnote to myself and to others who may be seeking advice, even with this mindset, there’s no silver bullet. Be curious. Be mindful. And, be creative. My favorite creative ‘ask’ so far is “I will pay you to work for you”.
I jumped on a call with my good buddy, incredible founder and one of the most magnanimous people that I know, Mike, not too long ago. And no, he did not pay me to say that. As always, we nerded about everything on the face of this planet, but one thing in particular stood out to me. And inevitably manifested into the foundation of this #unfiltered post. He said, just 3 words:
“Words are food.”
The more we delved into this rabbit hole, the more robust the metaphor began. But for the sake of not running your ear off, I’ll cover just one facet of our parallel.
Compliments are sweets. They’re great in moderation, but too many give you cavities. They wrap up a great meal, but you cannot live your life only indulging in compliments. On the other hand, constructive criticism are your vegetables. They may not taste the best, but they’re healthy for you. And a healthy diet should consist of mostly fruits and veggies. Yes, brussel sprouts and eggplants too. Of course, it’s important to note that blatant criticism, like “You suck” or “You’re dumb” is garbage. They neither taste good nor are they healthy for you. You can smell it from miles away. So just steer clear.
After all, you are what you eat. 😀
Empathy in Words
In the past 4 months, we are all going through a transitory stage in our lives – some more drastic than others. Some of us have experienced the deaths of loved ones. Some, a test of relationship integrity. Others, career shifts and a change in household income. For those of you who have been affected by the job market, my friend passed me this resource which I hope you’ll find use in honing your job search. Anecdotally, it seems pretty accurate.
And almost everyone, a dietary change and restriction, due to the market’s supply and demand. And it’s more important a time than any (not that you shouldn’t when the curve flattens and the markets recover), be empathetic.
Be kind – with your actions and your words. In these times, it’s so easy to be caught up in what’s not going right in your life, but you’re not alone. You never are.
Empathy in Business Now
Although this applies to so many different aspects of our lives, I’ve found its pertinence on the business front recently. When the focus of businesses now is on cash preservation rather than growth, which I’ve alluded to in previous posts (1. cash in private markets, 2. heeding advice , 3. brand as a moat), aggressive decisions can be tough. As the saying goes, measure twice, cut once.
Here are some examples of said (preemptive) decisions I’ve seen from founders so far:
Reallocating 30% of the company budget to the core business from expansion and venture bets (70-20-10 rule of thumb to 100-0-0)
50% cut to CEO salary, 10% cut to management, 5% from everyone else, to try to minimize layoffs
100% cut to founder(s)’ salary, 35% cut to management, everyone else keeps theirs the same, while offering healthcare benefits for temporary workers/contractors
The conclusion for some founders may reach the point of laying off people who followed you believing in your dream. You can check out Mark Suster‘s, Managing Partner at Upfront Ventures, rubric for questions you need to consider in empathetic moments of business decisiveness.
Empathy won’t change decisions. The tough, but true remarks are your vegetables. People will still have to eat them, but be understanding of where the people eating the food you cooked up are coming from. Rather than boil your brussel sprouts, offer crispy ones with a soy glaze, a little heat, and a layer of bonito flakes.
Perspectives Forward
Recently, I had the fortune of connecting with a founder whose parents were refugee who found sanctuary in the states. She put things wonderfully into perspective, when comparing the current situation to the one she was familiar with as a child.
“There are 2 camps of refugees: (1) those who want things to go back to the way they were before, and (2) those who move forward knowing that life will never return to the ‘normal’ they once knew.
“And those who progress forward are those who believe in the latter.”
When the dust settles after all of this, life won’t ever be the same as it was 4 months ago. The hospitality, transportation, travel, and service industries, just to name a few, will irrevocably change. You friends and family may have lost dear ones.
Alas, I’m an optimist. And I know that we’re going to come out stronger than we were when we went in. We’re going to have to get used to a new diet. I dare say, even a new vernacular.
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost).Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
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What is the underlying notion that makes this product work?
It’s the question that almost every investor, especially early-stage startup investor, tries to answer when they’re entertaining potential investments. Some close cousins include:
What social, economic, or political trend is enabling this technology/business to work?
Why will people want to continue using this product? Consciously? Subconsciously? How much will they regret not being able to use this product?
Why is this idea crazy good, and not just crazy?
Is there a predictable road to traction? Product-market fit? $1M ARR? etc.
Is this a scalable business?
Needless to say, when I chat with founders, their business’s defensibilityoften comes up. Every business – small or large – needs to be defensible. Grandma’s cookies are just that good ’cause of that ‘secret’ brown butter element. Or Sally’s lemonade stand sells better than her neighbor’s down the street since she can keep her drinks cool for longer. Just like every good medieval castle has a moat, possibly filled with alligators, every good business has to have that one (or many) unfair advantage, as they call it in B-school. Not that I ever went, but I’ve heard from friends and professors who have. And this is even more true if you want to build a scalable business.
Those who have gone generally claim that their moat is their experience at X Fortune 500 company. Those who have a technical background often claim that their moat is their IP – patents owned and pending. Neither are wrong. And frankly, there are a multitude of factors that come into play when arguing for a business’s defensibility. And most of the times, it’s a permutation of the above and more. But the purpose of this post is to focus on an often discounted notion of brand as a moat. Both the company brand and the personal brand.
Disclaimer:
I should mention that before you even consider your business’s defensibility, and subsequently, brand, first, make a damn good product. I’ve seen too many founders take that leap of faith before they even have a product. They pitch the dream of them making a better world – the company vision – before they even figure out the first steps they need to take to get there.
The only ‘exception’ to this rule, at least from a fundraising and pre-PMF perspective, is if you have an amazingly robust personal brand. Though that may help with early traction, it won’t be enough to sustain a scalable business in the long run.
The startup brand
Your startup’s brand is a collective composed of the:
Company mission,
Company vision,
Internal culture,
And, the openness and responsiveness of the team.
The vision is that ultimate dream. The mission is what you’ll do now to get to that dream. Back in college, someone I really respect put it to me like this:
“The vision is the Sun. The mission is that ladder up. You can’t get to the Sun without building a ladder. If you only stare at it, you’ll eventually blind yourself. And if you just build a ladder, or else you might up on Mars instead, poorly equipped to survive there.”
Culture is something that you can set at the beginning, but know it’ll be an evolving beast with every new hire and every new incident. What you let happen defines the new culture. Although I share my thoughts in a post earlier this year, Ben Horowitz puts it into a much better perspective in his book, What You Do is Who You Are: How to Create your Business Culture. Quite a story-filled read, especially when you’re looking for something to do at home now.
And, the above three culminates into how your team acts.
Do your current customers/users feel like their concerns are either addressed or at least, valued?
Do they feel they are a valued member of your community?
What is your customer satisfaction rate? NPS score?
How do you prioritize and act on customer feedback?
Are your users engaged? How do you reengage them, if they become inactive?
For apps, what are they saying on the App Store/Play Store?
And, how are new customers hearing about your product? What do they hear? What are their explicit and implicit assumptions when using your product?
Why it Matters
Together the 4 elements answer the fundamental questions:
Why would a potentially great customer want to use your product?
Why would a potentially great hire want to join your company?
In the past few months, many VCs have been shifting their investment focus from consumer and towards enterprise/SaaS. There’s the argument that consumers are (1) more expensive to acquire (increasing CAC; the average number of apps a person downloads a day is zero), and (2) harder to retain. (For a more in-depth explanation, I would recommend you to check out the “Consumer App Conundrum” section here.) Aka, it’s more competitive than ever in the consumer markets. When we get closer to perfect competition over a saturated market seeking attention, having a great product just isn’t enough anymore. When some of the most active and vocal consumers happen to be people on the younger spectrum (millennials and Gen Zs), to fight for their attention, you need a brand that resonates with them on causes they care about – whether it’s diversity or climate change or another social cause.
We see this notion affecting two other verticals: the public sector and enterprise.
The privatization of X (let X be education, healthcare, transportation, etc. for all that were empirically public sector functions)
The consumerization of enterprise
For the purpose of this piece, let’s look at the consumerization of enterprise. What does that mean? Before enterprise sales worked from a top-down approach. A founder of an enterprise/SaaS startup pitches to a senior executive at a Fortune 500 (or similar) company. And the executive makes the call and the budget allocation towards their team’s usage of said product.
Now, many startups/companies, like Slack, Trello, Lever, and Soapbox, are taking the bottom-up approach, garnering brand loyalty among the people who will be/are using the product itself. And I predict that’ll be so in the near future for Superhuman, the fastest email client, and Woven, my favorite calendar app, as well. After all, progress happens at the most junior level. If you take it in relation to a tech startup of 200 in its growth phase, the founders or executives can make a plan and set deadlines. But if your most junior developer isn’t working on it, the whole business halts to a stop. All this makes me quite bullish on products in the low-code/no-code space, as well as in towards the future of work.
Moreover, this has led enterprise products to be heavily personalized, constantly updating, and has paved the way to multi-modal business models (i.e. subscription and pay-per-use). All this maximizes user satisfaction, which in turn affects their productivity, and transitively, the business flow.
Although the job market looks wildly different now than it did 3 months ago, when I assume the average founder is looking for cash preservation over growth, you still should be cognizant about the latter going forward.
Your Personal Brand
Your personal brand as a founder, or just as a professional, really matters. If you are a founder or thinking about becoming one, start building a public voice. Get people excited about you and what you’re all about.
Why?
Personal brands are extremely scalable and have built-in virality. You put one post out. Some percent of your followers engage with your content by liking or commenting. Then either by social media’s algorithms or by their innate excitement, they’ll share your content with their friends. Subsequently, new folks discover you and your content. And this becomes a virtuous loop, or network effects, as we call it, that helps get you scalable traction. This is why celebrities, like Dr. Dre and Maisie Williams, and their ventures garner quite a bit of traction among consumers and among investors. This is also why influencer marketing has been so bullish over the past few years.
At some point in your company’s lifespan, your personal brand will become the company brand. And that’ll become either shining beacon or the downfall of your company. More than just the followers you have on social media and in public, you are judged by everyone constantly on your aptitude and behaviors. How open, conscientious, agreeable, extroverted, and neurotic are you? (Yes, I took the 5 traits from the Big 5/OCEAN test.) Each and more have an impact on your personal brand. If we look at the culture behind Facebook, we see how large of an imprint Zuckerberg has on it. For Apple, Jobs.
In closing
The best thing about brands as a moat is that it’s effectively free! But both take years of work in building. As someone on the investing side, I love stellar brands. And it’s one of the elements of a business I weigh heavily on for its potentiality in network effects, summarized in the “Why you?” component of my NTY investment thesis (why Now, why This, why You).
Hmmmm, now thinking about it, personal brand may be the biggest reason I’ve been changing my handwashing habits in the past week… after watching Gordon Ramsay, Alton Brown, and Conan O’Brien‘s tutorials on it.
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I woke up today with a thought that’s been gnawing at me for years now. Why do we have backup plans – Plan Bs, Plan Cs, etc? Does it inhibit our drive? Or readily prepare us for the worst? At what point are we sacrificing our commitment for safety?
When I started this blog, my writing mentor recommended that I have 10 pieces written and ready before I launch my blog. And I did exactly that. All cards out, I still have 8 of my pieces saved in my backlogs, which as you have already deducted, I’ve used 2 of my pieces already. Why? My mentor told me that, in my commitment to publish content weekly, I will indubitably have dry spells – dry weeks. And I did… twice. So, I regressed to my lowest common denominator and pulled something out of my archives. But during those two weeks, it helped me stay in my comfort zone. That instead of fighting writer’s block (if such a thing exists), I chose to run from it.
Part of the reason I started this #unfiltered series is to help me be content with content. I am guilty of 8/10 times second-guessing my way out of doing something. If I contemplate over something long enough, I’ll realize fears that I never thought possible, and opt for the safer option – not doing it at all.
From when we were young, we’re taught to always prepare backup options. When applying to colleges, we’re told to apply to our 2-3 reach schools, and 10-15 other schools we’re confident about getting into. When applying to jobs, one of my hometown neighbors, 2 years my senior, advised me to apply to 200 jobs, expect 10-20 interviews, another 3-5 for final rounds, and 1-2 offers to choose from. Effectively, asking me to apply to 198 backup alternatives.
I get it. As the saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers. Both high school and my early years of college have drilled that saying into me – by my peers and by my teachers.
A part of me hates it, but a part of me realizes the truth in there. I saw that circumstances played an even larger role for my friends and peers who:
are going through tough times in this pandemic and economic downturn,
(whose) parents came from a lower income bracket,
are POC (people of color),
are female,
are/were open about their different sexual orientations,
didn’t graduate from a 4-year college,
lost limbs or appendages due to accidents or conflict,
are/were in debt,
and much more.
Half a decade back when I set out to meet one new person that drew my insatiable curiosity a week, I realized I’m a goddamn privileged person living in the 21st century. I’m a perfectly healthy, heterosexual Asian male who graduated from a 4-year university. If all hell breaks loose and my net worth goes to absolute zero, I have my parents’ home to go back to and a room and bed to call my own. And as a full disclaimer, the fact I’m contemplating this question in the first place means I’m privileged enough to do so.
And because I’ve had the liberty to do so, I realized that my greatest personal achievements came from when I didn’t give myself the option of a Plan B. For the people I reached out to and am in touch with above my weight class, I either have given it my all or was prepared to do so. For swimming, I treated each competition as my last, meaning I either gave it my all or nothing. And during more nights than I can count, I beat myself up over my inability to reach a milestone.
Yet, now in the land of venture, we learn to hedge our bets and come up with contingency plans. We learn once again to diversify our portfolio, and not put all eggs in one basket. Does that lead to why many investors fundamentally don’t have the conviction to lead deals?
On the founding side, you have it almost flipped. When you are trying to make ends meet, there will be times you have to take that one option and go all in. And you can’t let go until you do everything you can to make it a reality. When you sit in a position of privilege, you can have several contingency plans to hedge your bets. Ben Horowitz, author, founder, and investor, illustrated the dichotomy in his piece (and one of my favorites) about peacetime and wartime CEOs. There’s a part of me that strives to find that sense of urgency, like a wartime CEO. And go all in. Maybe this pandemic is the test where I can find where my values really lie.
To be frank, I haven’t come up with a conclusion to the dilemma. For now, I can only hypothesis-test and keep good track of the data that comes my way. But, so far, I can say that one’s tolerance for risk is positively correlated with one’s free cash flow.
#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!
