Category: #unfiltered

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#unfiltered #92 AGMs, VC Funds, and the Personality Hypothesis

event, conference, concert

In the last few months, I’ve been to a number of AGMs. For the uninitiated, annual general meetings. These annual summits VCs host once a year to their investors. Their LPs. Some of such events I go to because I’m an LP in those respective funds. The vast majority of which I am not. But I go because I’m a friend of the team, or the GPs want me to give them feedback on the event, or that I advised them on how to put together the event itself. The invite, in and of itself, especially to those I am not an LP in, is an honor and a privilege. Something I don’t take lightly.

The best ones bring in quality attendees, not just speakers. And that these A-players bring their A-game. They are willing to share their insights and experience with candor, and leave little to the imagination. They are battlegrounds of ideas and creative conflict. To take a line from Matt Ridley, a line I first heard also at a an AGM last week, “Innovation is when ideas have sex.” Quality events are simply “brothels of ideas,” to borrow a line from a speaker at that AGM, leading not only to a higher quality of conversation, but also a higher quality of eavesdropping.

In the words of someone I met at one last week, “I don’t have a membership to a country club, but this is the closest thing I have to it.”

In each, the general partners for each firm would typically share the progress of the fund. The good. The bad. The numbers. The trends. As well as the future of the fund. Then after all that, they would have 2-3 of their portfolio companies present on stage, with insight as to what innovation looks like from ground zero. My personal favorites are where the founders don’t pitch that they’re fundraising. It is purely, in its truest sense, an exchange of ideas. Occasionally, there would be an additional speaker — an influential individual in the space to highlight the GP(s)’ networks. These have ranged from published authors to established GPs to celebrities to bloggers and podcasters to Nobel Prize winners.

LPs often go to so many of these. Many more than I have to date. That at some point, every annual meeting starts looking like the next. If you knew nothing else, or if you’re ever curious of my favorite rule of thumb on whether an AGM is truly different and worth one’s time is one where less than 10% of the attendees are on their devices. And even if they are, they aren’t on it for long.

That said, one thing I couldn’t help but notice was that many of the founders who spoke on stage often reflected the personality of the GPs. A mirror of sorts. Not all the time, but enough for me to consistently notice. Which makes sense since like-minded people gravitate towards each other.

People with similar energy levels. People with similar levels of charisma. Those with similar levels of curiosity. Similar sets of hobbies.

I have no thesis here. Merely a hypothesis from a very anecdotal set of observations. How crucial is a GP’s personality in selecting and attracting founders? If there was a loose personality archetype of a great founder, does that mean LPs should pick GPs with that same personality archetype since they’re more likely to attract entrepreneurs with similar personalities?

Hell, as they sit two degrees of freedom away from actual innovation, do most LPs actually know what makes a great founder?

Photo by Pablo Heimplatz on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

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

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#unfiltered #90 If A Song Took a Lifetime to Play

music, song

Just the other day, I was listening to one of 99% Invisible’s episodes, interestingly titled as “As Slow As Possible,” named after the organization ASLSP, which stands for the same. My knee-jerk reaction was that the abbreviation and the first letters of each word just didn’t match up. Luckily, Roman Mars and Gabe Bullard explained. Although it still left something more to be desired.

“The title is also a reference to a line in James Joyce’s novel Finnegans Wake. The line is: ‘Soft morning, city! Lsp!’ Where lisp is just spelled L S P.”

Nevertheless, the episode itself circles around the concept of taking one song and using the entire lifespan of a pipe organ (639 years) to play that song just once. That even a single note would take two years to play. A fascinating concept! And which led me down a rabbit hole of thought experiments.

What if we took our favorite song and extrapolated that to the human lifespan? Say 90 years. What note would we be on today? Have we gotten to the chorus yet?

So for the sake of this thought experiment, for a brief second, let’s walk down the lane of music theory. Take the average pop song. The average pop song plays for about three minutes. And many at 120 beats per minute. Apparently, 120 bpm is also the golden number you want to get to if you’re working a crowd as a DJ. You never start at that speed, but you work your way up throughout the night. And if you can get people’s heart rate matching the beats per minute, you’ve hit resonance. But I digress.

So, taking round numbers, the average pop song has a total of 360 beats. Most songs are in 4/4 time. In other words, four beats per bar. An average pop song takes about 2-4 bars for the intro. 16 bars for a verse. Possibly, another 4 bars as the pre-chorus. And the first chorus doesn’t really start till bar 25. And usually lasts another 4-8 bars.

Now, if we were to extrapolate a song to the average human lifespan. 90 years. 360 beats across 90 years. Assuming it takes 24 bars to get to the chorus, the chorus doesn’t start until we’re 24 years old. And the full chorus doesn’t end until we’re 32 years old. With each note lasting a full three months. And the second chorus starts around age 48.

Then again, I remember reading somewhere that most pop songs are played in multiples of four or eight. And that most of these songs only have 80 bars. If that’s the case, the first chorus doesn’t kick in till we’re just past 28 years old and ends around 36 years old.

In either case, the first chorus happens around the time when most people would define as their prime. Young enough to take risks; old enough to be dangerous. The second chorus seems to fit as the second wind people have in their careers. Hell, HBR found, the median age of a startup founder when they start is 45. And with that reference point, they’ll be 47 or 48 when they become venture-backed.

Obviously, this is just me playing around with numbers. Correlation does not mean causation, of course. But nevertheless, the parallels… curious and uncanny.

P.S. Jaclyn Hester and my episode together on Superclusters got me thinking about a lot how much music applies to our lives and how we live and think.

Cover Photo at the top by Marius Masalar on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

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

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#unfiltered #89 The Palate Setter

cheese

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

Music

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

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

Podcasts / Streaming

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

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

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

Giving live talks

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

Photo by Camille Brodard on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

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

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#unfiltered #88 Koi No Yokan

love, heart

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

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

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

Koi no yokan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

So I stopped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An excerpt on my LinkedIn post

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

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

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

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

Photo by Mayur Gala on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

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

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#unfiltered #87 Shower Thoughts on Great Founders and Great Investors

expo, markers, whiteboard

I’ve been doing some thinking as of late in and out of the shower. In conversations. In reexamining my own investment thesis. And changing it as a function of scar tissue and tears of joy. As such, sharing a few shower thoughts below that for the below, might be better described as a tweet than in a long-form blogpost.

About founders

  1. A community or 1000 true fans built without big brands and logos is far more impressive than a community built by leveraging someone else’s brands.
  2. 20 years of experience is more impressive than 20 one-year experiences for deeply technical problems.
  3. 20 one-year experiences is more impressive than 20 years of experience for cultural (consumer) problems.
  4. Great founders don’t delegate understanding. Senior execs aren’t hired until founders themselves prove out the playbook.
  5. In the age of AI, new information is more valuable than remixes of old. Standing out is more important than fitting in. The latter of which will be replaced with by AI given the wealth of data out there. (Ironically, this line is inspired by old conversations plus Sriram Krishnan’s blogpost)
  6. Revenue matters more than traffic for consumer products since AI bots can now mimic simple digital human behavior.
  7. Silicon Valley / SF Bay Area is strong because of the high quality of eavesdropping. There are so many ideas being thrown around in coffee shops. It’s quite easy to stumble across a world-class lesson without paying $2000 for a conference ticket. Things sure have changed since ’08.

About investors

  1. In early stage venture, debates on price is a lagging indicator of conviction, or more so, lack thereof.
    • Price also matters a lot more for big funds than small funds.
    • Price also matters more for Series B+ funds.
    • Will caveat that there’s an ocean of difference between $10M and $25M valuation. But it’s semantics between $10M and $12M valuation. How big your slice of the pie is doesn’t matter if the pie doesn’t grow.
    • Not saying that it’s correlated, but it does remind me of a Kissinger quote: “The reason that university politics is so vicious is because stakes are so small.”
  2. The reasons Fund I’s and II’s outperform are likely:
    • Chips on shoulders mean they hustle more to find the best deals. They have to search where big funds aren’t or come in sooner than big funds do.
    • Small fund size is easier to return than a larger fund size.
    • Rarely do they have ownership targets (nor do they need significant ownership to return the fund). Meaning they’re collaborative and friendly on the cap table, aka with most other investors, especially big lead investors.
    • Price matters less. Big funds really have to play the price game a little bit more since (1) likely to be investing in multiple stages with reserves, and price matters more past the Series A than before, and (2) they’re constrained by check size, ownership targets, and therefore price in order to still have a fund returner.
  3. “Judge me on how good my good ideas are, not how bad my bad ideas are.” — Ben Affleck when writing Good Will Hunting. A lot of being a VC is like that. Hell, a lot of being a founder is like that.
  4. We like to cite the power law a lot. Where 20% of our investments account for 80% of our returns. But if we were to apply that line of thinking two more times. Aka 4% (20 x 20%) of our investments account for 64% of our returns. Then 0.8% account for 51.2% of our returns. If you really think about it, if you invest in 100 companies, we see in a lot of great portfolios where a single investment return more than 50% of the historical returns.

Photo by Mark Rabe on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

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

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#unfiltered #86 Learning from Personal Mistakes, Excellence, and from Others

sand, filter

A few years ago, in one of my favorite coffee shops on 7th Street in San Francisco, over a vanilla cold brew, a then 25-year old founder told me that he had recently taken his then-first vacation in five years. Took a full week off. Didn’t touch work at all. And just enjoyed it with his fiancée. But contrary to what one would expect, his body language that seemed to indicate the exact opposite of having a good time. Two hands cupped over his face, as he slowly dragged them both downwards in exasperation. Followed by many sighs.

He shared that in the time he was gone, the website crashed and the team had trouble bringing it back online. And when they finally did bring it back online, they were waiting for his approval to move forward. As such, didn’t bring it back online until he came back. With another large sigh, he went on to say that he’d never take another vacation ever again.

Running your own business is tough. Really tough. I get it. If you’re the founder, it’s your baby. And sometimes, it’s really hard letting go on what may seem like key decisions. Eventually, that becomes a slippery slope where I see too many founders needing to control every decision that goes on in the company. And even if you hired extremely well, you’ve capped your team’s potential by not letting them execute to their fullest capacity.

In the above dilemma, as you might know, it’s not a to-vacation-or-not-to-vacation problem. It’s a you-need-to-give-your-teammates agency problem. And it might seem obvious to you and me, to any third party observer. But it wasn’t to him. He was so frustrated that he was focused on the one new thing he did and believed that one new thing had a causal effect to a problem that was looming over his team’s head for a long time.

It is true that we are products of our scar tissue, but quite often, in an attempt to not be in the same situation again, people overcorrect. They take then run with the seemingly most extreme “solution.”

And in the times scar tissue start to form, start from first principles. Is taking a vacation really the biggest offender? Do great CEOs just not take time off? Is there something else that I’m not willing to admit about how the results played out?

What am I assuming to be true that may not have to be true? What are the raw facts, stripped of opinions and speculation?

Why was my team incapable of making that decision? Was it something that I told them before or did before that has since prevented them from making calls? What do I spend most of my day doing? Can I outsource some of my tasks? Some of my decisions? How would I do that? And only then, can I ask myself and others: what can I do from now on so that history doesn’t repeat?

Seeking and redefining excellence

And once you’re at the root of the problem, find others you admire who run organizations you admire.

Excellence is an interesting concept. One of the few words out there where its definition changes over the course of your life.

It’s one of the few words where it is not only different for every person, but that even within each person, every time you see something excellent, it sets a new bar and stretches that definition. Defined by only the most excellent thing you’ve seen.

The truth is that most great lessons happen to err on the side of examples. So to have people who define that word for you again and again are the “Sensei-s” you want in your life.

So spend time with others. Notice how they approach problems. And stretch your definition of excellence.

For the 25-year old founder who hadn’t worked any other job in his life, and only his own, there’s immense value in learning from others and building expertise at high-growth institutions. Or with people who you deeply respect.

Asking for the lesson

Tim Ferriss, on a recent episode with Noah Kagan, said, “Life punishes the vague wish and rewards the specific ask.” And I frickin’ love that line.

Be specific. No picking brains. You’re not a zombie or a vulture or a crow.

Not 30-minute coffee chats. Those quickly become recipes of asking for too much time with an amorphous ask. To a busy person, that 30-minute ask sounds like a recipe for losing 50 minutes to an hour of your life you can never get back. Including travel to and from. Time, as the only unreplenishable commodity, is precious. As Howard Lindzon said on the Superclusters podcast, when we’re young, we’re time-millionaires, but over time, we get poorer and poorer. We then become time-thousand-aires as we age. And eventually, we run out of temporal capital.

It is in times of need and struggle, that we often have the most prescient and specific ask to make of potential mentors.

“When in X situation, and after having Y results, my gut seems to tell me to do Z, but given that you’ve experienced these situations before or have likely seen these situations unfold, am I directionally accurate?”

In closing

There’s a lot of this hustle porn in the Bay Area. Loud claims of not taking any vacations or sleeping only three hours per night. Moreover media perpetuates and lionizes this way of living.

It’s not true. Science shows we do much better with eight hours of sleep. It shows that every so often, we need to take time to unwind, so that we can come back to be more efficient and inspired than before. You can clock in the hours, but that doesn’t mean you are producing quality in a one-to-one capacity.

And I worry that like the founder that took his vacation for the first time, then overcorrected, we live in a society where we’ve forgotten that we’re human. That we need breaks. That we need sleep. And that we can’t do most things alone, including building ambitious ideas and maturing as professionals.

Photo by NEOM on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

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

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#unfiltered #85 Relationships are Built on Actions, Not Words

action

This past weekend, I ended rewatching a classic and one of my favorite Eddie Murphy movies, A Thousand Words. Eddie, who plays Jack McCall, a literary agent, is someone who will say anything to get what he wants. And the plot of the movie effectively revolves around him trying to sign his next author and the after effects of doing so.

At one point, Dr. Sinja, the author he’s trying to sign, tells Jack, after he exclaims that he tells his wife he loves her “all the time”, “Words? More words, Jack. You tell her, like meaningless leaves that fly off a dying tree?

“Words.

“Can’t you show her that you love her? Make peace. Show them that you love them. And be truthful.”

One of my favorite people in the world, my friend who I met by way of mutual friend introduction, also happens to be one of the more well-traveled people I know. While it’s not my intention to embarrass her by writing this blogpost, she’s someone I’m deeply grateful for — my pen pal.

Every time we text, we send these long passages to each other. Paragraphs long. It doesn’t happen super often, every 2-3 months or so. And at times, we go six months without texting each other. But what makes her awesome aren’t our virtual letters, while I do really enjoy writing and reading them. What makes her awesome is that every time we meet in-person, she brings me gifts from abroad.

And she did so, ever since the day we first met, and I, in a passing remark, mentioned I didn’t travel often. And because of my work, my school, the need for me to be close to take care of family, I’ve stayed in the cocoon of the Bay Area my whole life. As such, I really do enjoy when friends tell me in detail of their travels beyond the horizons. But she took it a step further, where she would:

  1. Buy gifts, snacks and souvenirs from abroad to bring back
  2. Mail me postcards from every trip, sharing the smells, sights, sounds, and feels of her surroundings as she writes them
  3. And of course, bring me back tales from her adventures when we meet in person.

They’re small things. But despite being small, they mean a lot to me.

I’m luckier now to be able to travel more. And just like my pen pal brings back treasures when she travels, I do so for her now too.

And of course, this extends beyond friendships. The fundamentals for any relationship (friendship, romantic, customer, investor, or some other business relationship) are fulfilling promises. Too often, I meet folks, who like Jack McCall say more than they can deliver. Most times unintentionally. A large part due to society’s expectations to be nice.

I’ll give an example. How often do we hear “How can I help?” at the end of a conversation? If you’re anyone who has something that others want — connections, capital, or advice — the ones on the receiving end probably wish to pay you back in some way. But most people ask that, and when they get an answer back, they take it in like the passing wind. Personally, I’d rather people who can’t deliver on that not ask that question than ask and not deliver (if there is something the other could use help on).

To go beyond just a normal relationship means you need to deliver the unexpected — beyond the initial promise. That requires you to actually spend time caring. And when you do, actions will naturally follow words or perform independent of words.

Brex won many of their first customers finding who just raised and mailing them a $50 bottle of Veuve Clicquot. In turn, they got to demo in front of 225 out of 300 leads, and 75% of those closed. Instacart’s Apoorva Mehta delivered a pack of beer to Garry Tan at YC to win admission into their famously competitive cohorts — after they applied late!

Both were pitches. But neither in the format one would traditionally imagine.

As the saying goes, actions speak a thousand words.

Photo by Kid Circus on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

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

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#unfiltered #84 Some Things Aren’t Worth Measuring, Others Aren’t Worth Carrying

My friend told me recently, that in the hallowed halls of Zappos, there’s a line by the great Tony Hsieh:

“Just because you can’t measure the ROI of something doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. What’s the ROI of hugging your mom?”

Too often we measure by the business incentives and not our own intentions. Humans are social creatures. We enjoy the company of others. No matter how much or how little. No matter if you’re an extrovert or introvert. There’s a line in my buddy Lloyed‘s new book, From Grassroots to Greatness, that I absolutely adore — a lesson he picked up from surviving the Gulf War.

“Life’s not about the destination, nor the journey. It’s your companions who matter the most. The people traveling down the road with you.”

I hosted a 20-person dinner on Wednesday. The theme was simple. Good people, good vibes. The room was 100% investors — LPs and GPs. And at any other venue, with the concentration of minds we had, the conversation would also be 100% cerebral. Markets. Political dynamics. Investment opportunities. Tactics. And so on. Ok, maybe only 90-95% cerebral, but my point still stands.

So the question is how can I, as the host, diffuse the tension in the room, where people use their amygdala, more than their pre-frontal cortex. Or in less cerebral terms, how do I get people to just have fun?

And not to get too technical (unless it is of interest, then let me know), it was setting the stage and arming people with the ammunition to not regress to their normal habits. The former lent itself to explicit statements of good vibes. The latter was executed by an order of custom fortune cookies, with all the fortunes inside containing a fun fact from someone else who was present that day.

The result was a casual night of laughs and hugs underneath the canopy of the San Franciscan sunset.

A friend asked me the next day, “What did I get out of it?”

To which I simply replied, “There’s no ROI on a good time.”

Pennies and quarters

I came across this reel while doom-scrolling on Instagram. I’ll try to find it, but at the moment forgetting the attribution. But the influencer posed the question: What’s the difference between 100 pennies and 4 quarters?

Weight.

The sum of each set equates to a dollar. But if you were to put 100 pennies in your left pocket and 4 quarters in your right, you’ll feel the weight on your left side. And in this analogy, they’re worth the same, and that there are some people who have value but are not worth the weight. Not everyone who has weight is worth carrying.

So, what?

In the age of social media (which in fairness has very much gone off thesis from its original intentions), the number of friends one has or followers or subscribers seem to matter a lot more than the quality of those relationships. Similarly, in the metropolitan world, the number of cards your Rolodex can unfurl seem to take priority over true friendship. In fact, there’s a whole phenomenon called the strength of weak ties.

I don’t think that’s right. Is there ‘value’ in knowing a lot of people? Sure. But life isn’t about numbers and stats — how much you make, or how big the deal you just struck was. In fact, the only numbers that’ll be on your gravestone will be the day you were born and the day you died. That’s it.

The sad truth is more and more people in modern society feel lonelier and lonelier. Hell, there’s plenty of literature on how many of the world’s top celebrities — in other words, some of the most followed / subscribed-to people in the world — feel incredibly lonely. And frankly it’s on overoptimization of what can be measured, and forgetting about what makes us happy, joyful, content. And spoiler alert, for all the economists and statisticians, it’s not utility points.

In closing

And so when my friend shared his adventures at the Zappos office with me, which I’ve never been to, now I really want to.

So, until the next, be kind, stay awesome, go tell someone who’s made an impact on your life, thank you, and give that person a hug. You don’t have to wait till Thanksgiving to do so.

Photo by Diana Polekhina on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

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

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#unfiltered #83 There Doesn’t Have to be a First Place

medal, winner, gold, first place

I recently learned that in FISM competitions — competitions hosted by the International Federation of Magic Societies (if the letters aren’t in order, it’s because FISM is in French not in English), that the judges don’t have to award any prizes. Meaning if they don’t think any of the magicians and their acts are up to par, they don’t have to dole out a first, second or third place. And according to Simon Coronel, it happens quite often. The goal is simple. That winning first place should mean something. Not just because you’re better than the rest that day or that year, but that you really deserve to stand among the greats.

And it got me thinking. Are there other fields that should strive for the same level of rigor?

For instance, does an Oscar need to be awarded every year for each category?

Or an Olympic gold medal for each event every four? (Although a caveat to my own, if the rules change, like when in 2010, they banned male full-body suits when swimming at the international stage, then there should be a reevaluation of excellence.)

And there might be some years that the best prize awarded should just be a second place one.

Then there are other contests, where the number of prizes only seem to increase. In other areas, namely to join certain rankings organized by members of the press, you have to pay for your spot. The latter of which I have no experience in. But had heard of accounts from friends who have.

The truth is it’s not my place to rate the world’s greatest artists or athletes. But it does make you wonder that if the magic society can hold themselves to that high of a regard, why can’t the rest of us do so?

Once upon a note

As all good Asian children did, once upon a time, I learned to play the piano since I was five. One of many teachers and admittedly the one I was with for the longest happened to this sweet lady who taught her students out of her home. And every year, usually around the beginning of summer, she would rent out a hall and host a recital between all her students. Every student (and she had 30-40 students) — from beginning to master — would play one song.

The whole recital would last about 2-3 hours. And at the close, there would be an award ceremony. For each skill category, there would be a Best of Show trophy. And for everyone else, a participation trophy. When I was first started off and was quite bad, that participation trophy felt great, even if I was only playing Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars. I put it at the top of my shelf next to my bed, so I would see it every morning when I woke up.

Then 1-2 participation awards later, they had lost their luster. The Best of Show is now what I was aiming for.

For a brief period of time, that was my goal. And eventually I got it. But I remember when I finally got it, I wasn’t nearly as elated as I thought I’d be. ‘Cause that year my teacher decided that one Best of Show wasn’t enough. Three felt right to her. To be fair, I don’t know if she had over-ordered or just felt the need to give more out due to some parental complaints. But I remember receiving mine alongside someone who I knew made a few hiccups on stage. And even though I did the best I could have, I didn’t feel like I deserved it.

So that night, I didn’t even put the Best of Show trophy on my shelf.

A side corollary to angel investing

The greatest feature of being an angel investor (as opposed to being a VC) is that you can be opportunistic. Your fund size is your own liquidity. You’re not tied down to a mandate. Or a deployment schedule. And if so, self-induced. What it means is that you invest only when you see a great company and team. Anything south of that means you don’t have to. You don’t have to award a check to a founder if you don’t feel they’re deserving of a first place. And because of that, “first place” actually means something. Not only to the founders you invest in, but to you.

That said, playing my own devil’s advocate, much of early-stage investing is luck-based game. And it is foolhardy to attribute to skill when a large amount of variables is unbeknownst at the time of investing — be it asymmetric information, or market conditions, incumbent moves, or purely black swan events in the future. The latter few, you need to count on luck more than once. And luck purely defined as “uncertainty in outcome,” in the words of the great Richard Garfield.

Photo by Brands&People on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

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

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#unfiltered #82 Sometimes The Best Thing You Can Have In Life Is The Best Partners

This past week, my friends were sending me one of the latest Shark Tank episodes (apologies for not finding a better fidelity video), asking me: Would you have invested?

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/7Yf2BrfC_ww
If this link dies due to copyright issues (since I haven’t waited till ABC puts out their original version), just Google “Shark Tank Eyewris”

But I bring it up not because I’m here to share what my thoughts on the deal, but because of a powerful lesson shared on Shark Tank’s Season 14 finale.

The best thing you can get in life is often to have the best partners. That’s true in business. That’s true in romance. And that’s true in life.

And yes, it’s also true in venture. As a founder, it’s not about who gives you the most money. Or gives your business the greatest valuation. Unfortunately, both are often vanity metrics, underscored in the 2020 and 2021 bull era. It’s about partnering with the right partners who can take you to the next stage. Partners who will keep you honest. Partners who will call you out on your BS. And partners who will tell you the things you don’t want to hear, who will have you do the things you don’t wanna do, so that you can be the founder you were meant to be.

In careers, it’s no less true. I’ve always looked at careers from the perspective of who can I learn the most from. It hasn’t always been the highest paying or the biggest brand. Frankly, it was easy to turn down both of the before if I didn’t feel like I would spending the next few years working with the best. Not only in terms of acumen, but also in how much they cared.

My friend Nichole Wischoff’s recent tweet echoes the same.

To think that one doesn’t need others to succeed, that’s foolish.

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

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

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