A few days ago, I caught up with an old friend from college. Amidst our conversation on how I was spending my time, he asked me, “Wouldn’t your time be more valuable helping the winners in your portfolio than the others?”
And I told him, albeit a bit more defensively than I would have liked, “Our brand is determined by our winners. Our reputation is earned by helping everyone else.” One of my better ad hoc lines, if I say so myself.
But more so, and I might be naïve in saying so, I may not get the most number of hours for sleep a night, but I will say, when I hit the bunk, I have the best sleep out of anyone you might know. And I do so because I know I’ve meaningfully touched someone else’s life. And by extension of them, indirectly, a few others.
Just because most startups fail doesn’t make each of their endeavors any less important.
Malia Obama once asked her dad, our former president what’s the point in working on climate change if the difference is so miniscule. That the world is burning. And what can one person do?
To which, Obama said, “We may not be able to cap temperature rise to two degrees Centigrade. But here’s the thing. If we work really hard, we may be able to cap it at two and a half, instead of three. Or three instead of three and a half. That extra Centigrade… that might mean the difference between whether Bangladesh is underwater. It might make the difference as to whether 100 million people have to migrate or only a few.”
In the world of startups, which isn’t exclusive to our world by any means, there’s a saying that people love quoting. Aim for the stars; land on the moon. And regardless if you hit the stars or not, aiming for it gets you the escape velocity to be extraterrestrial. In other words, it’s not always about whether you hit your goals or not, but rather… it’s the pursuit of lofty goals that gets you further than if you didn’t try in the first place.
I’m reminded of a great line by Dr. Rick Rigsby quoting his dad. “Boys, I won’t have a problem if you aim high and miss, but I’m gonna have a real issue if you aim low and hit.”
So, in this week’s short dose of optimism, don’t aim low and hit. Stay awesome!
#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.
A friend trapped in his own tumultuous schedule recently reached out to ask how I seemingly effortlessly manage my bandwidth. For starters, I try, but even I get swamped. And I’m sure people I’ve worked with closely can corroborate. So if anyone has a better way, I’m all ears.
That said, as I mentioned, I do try. And naturally, that means I think about balancing my plate a lot. From shower thoughts to systems to keep me accountable. I’m going to share below the four things I shared with him, in hopes you’ll find some use for your own life here.
I have a whiteboard in my shower. (Although, you might remember I mentioned this before.) In a list format in the top right corner of the board, I write down everything I’m involved in, especially the ones that require my attention. This way, everything is always floating around somewhere in the back of head. And when I shower, I take the one I’m most excited about ideating and just let the kids run wild in the attic.
I like asking myself the question: What would I do if I knew I would fail? And subsequently… what skills, relationships, and experiences can I gain that would transcend the outcome of the project itself? With those two questions, it helps to take the emotion out of the equation and consider it rationally. Which helps in arriving at a decision that I won’t regret. And naturally since I have a pretty high bar with what I choose to embark on, that does mean I say no to a lot of things.
Work with people who are as passionate or more passionate than you are about the project or subject matter. You also want to work with people whose passion is independent of yours. For instance, if they’re only doing a project ’cause you’re excited about it, the lack of internal motivation, I’ve found, to be draining over time when I work with someone who isn’t intrinsically motivated to put in their all. It also ensures that if on an odd day out, I’m just 30% as motivated as I am usually, they come in with at least 70% of their motivation. And as long as the collective motivation at any given point in time is greater than 100%, we keep working on it.
Lastly, I categorize activities and projects by how often something requires my attention. Some things require my attention daily. Others weekly. A handful of others biweekly. Or monthly. Or quarterly. A few annually (like taxes, ughhh). And at any given point in time, I will have no more than two items/projects per bucket. For instance, I will have no more than two pressing things that require my attention daily. And so yes, I’m context switching. But not nearly as much as one might think. The caveat is that when an activity becomes muscle memory and requires very little thinking to execute (i.e. exercise, brushing your teeth, showering, journaling, or so on for me), then that activity/project no longer counts toward its respective bucket.
#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.
Surprisingly, last week was the first week I’ve gone to multiple events for a given conference. Also I’m using the word “conference” very loosely here since I’m counting a tech week as one. What started off as ‘I’m going to support just one friend,’ ended up being a slippery slope, and supporting many friends, and catching up with friends in town. I mean, c’mon, how do you not at least say hi to a friend who’s flown from NYC or Miami? Perks of being bad at saying no.
That said, for the founder focused on getting to product-market fit, or actively fundraising, or the GP fundraising, your time is better spent elsewhere. But if you’re exploring and trying to increase the surface area for luck to stick, these events are great. So many fun, interesting ideas floating around.
Eight quick takeaways, before I go back and I let you go back to the rest of your week:
For VC/founder events, most attendees are founders. Smaller VCs went to the GP events. Bigger VCs just host their own.
For LP/GP events, most attendees are GPs. Went to an event of this type, and I kid you not, only met 2 LPs out of 15 people I chatted with. The rest were GPs. The folks you would like to show up at VC/founder events would rather pitch than to be pitched.
Interestingly enough, for the events that have a good proportion of LPs, most don’t seem to be investing in emerging managers. Anecdotally, have heard three of my friends who are individual LPs get turned down from LP events during SF Tech Week.
Smaller funds seem harder to raise than larger funds.
US large family office and institutional LP market is drying up. Most have overextended to buyouts and still need therapy for being burned in 2020 and 2021. For those that haven’t, they’re resorting to intros from friendlies.
Hosting your own events gives you better bang for your time than attending events.
And as one would suspect, AI dominates 70-80% of conversation.
Investing in unsexy industries is sexy. New moniker is to invest in industries where either 1/ people have scruffy beards or unkempt hair or 2/ meetings that require suit and tie.
Stay awesome, friends!
#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.
Earlier this week, I tuned into an episode that come out in late March on the 99% Invisible podcast about the panopticon effect. In all honesty, until this week, I pled ignorance to that second to last word — panopticon. Something that had been omitted from my anecdotal Meriam Webster. But maybe you’re less ignorant than I am and you’re already familiar with this term. Maybe we’re in the same boat.
Nevertheless, it turns out the panopticon was a relic of the late 1800s. It was a time, not too unlike today, when they were tackling the age-old problem of reforming prisons. Brought to life by Dutch architect Johan Metzelaar, the panopticon is a cylindrical prison, further defined by a single pillar at the center of it all — a guard tower. Unlike previous prison designs, this one was specifically designed so that the guards could keep their eye on every prisoner. Or at least that was the idea. For those in the prison to feel like they were always being watched, in hopes that would aid in the correction of their behavior.
And in that same episode, rewinding even further back in history, Roman Mars, the host of the 99% Invisible podcast, shared a fascinating piece of trivia. The Dutch were once again one of the first to introduce prisons as an alternative to torture, capital and/or corporal punishment. These houses of correction were meant to be opportunities for inmates to develop discipline and morality. Spoiler alert. It didn’t work out as expected. He mentions, “The goal of rehabilitating inmates was quickly lost. The houses of correction devolved into just convenient sources of very cheap labor.” Simply put, while the intentions for correctional facilities were good, the incentives led them astray.
2/ Josh brought up a great point about INTENTIONS x INCENTIVES
A lot of tech is invented perhaps with the right intentions, but financial or other incentives can get in the way, twisting outcomes to undesirable ones for society.
Nuclear was invented to harness renewable elemental power, but became a means to create weapons of mass destruction.
Social media started as a means to bring people together, but devolved into a tool for gaming eyeballs and invasive ads.
Vaping started as a way to help people quit smoking, but to create a sustainable business, the companies have started marketing “fun” flavors.
The battle between intentions and incentives is no less true in the past with prisons and empires and political beliefs as is in the present and future with technology, generative AI, deep tech, crypto and blockchain… The list goes on.
Intentions are usually about personal motivations, morality, ethics, and the greater good. The force that drives us forward. I truly believe that most people don’t start off wanting to take advantage of others. Incentives, on the other hand, are business motivations. They’re optimizations. A rationalization of decisions that conflict with goodwill for the sake of, well, insert your choice of blame and delegation of responsibility. Often times it is for the broader organization.
It reminds of a saying that I first heard in The Dark Knight. “You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” I can’t speak for every individual out there, neither is it my place to preach. That said, with the world progressing exponentially, selfishly speaking, I’d hate to see good people and good businesses overly optimize for the wrong reasons. And lose themselves in the journey up.
#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.
One of my favorite frameworks of thinking about building and breaking habits comes in the words of Elliot Berkman, whom I’ve cited before. He notes that there are three factors to breaking a habit.
The availability of an alternative habit
Strength of motivation to change
Mental and physical ability to break the habit
Of particular note is the second one. The strength of motivation to change. Change is inevitable. But real change is always compelling. There must be a strong enough desire to relieve yourself of the status quo. John C. Maxwell once said, “People change in four different seasons… People change when they hurt enough they have to, when they see enough they’re inspired to, when they learn enough that they want to, and when they receive enough that they’re able to.”
In each of those seasons, the person is compelled to do something outside of their ordinary flow of time. But there’s another interesting way to think about change. One where you have no choice but to.
CIA veteran Richards Heueronce wrote, “When faced with a major paradigm shift, analysts who know the most about a subject have the most to unlearn.” If there’s anything we can gather from historical records, major paradigm shifts are happening every decade (and less) whether we want to or not. On a macro scale, new technologies, like generative AI, the smartphone, and the internet, as well as political and financial eras, like the GFC, the dot com burst, and wars that affect the increasingly interconnected world. On a micro scale, when we go to college, get our first job, start our first company, raise a family, or buy your first house.
At each stage, the more entrenched you are in the behavioral patterns of the status quo, the harder it is to adjust with the next shift. For instance, as a founder, anchoring yourself on 2020-2021 multiples and valuations won’t help you in the world forward. As an investor, anchoring on the past 3-4 years of markups without fully accounting for the current climate won’t help you with your next raise. Anecdotally, I’ve heard great multi-fund managers mark their portfolio down by 25% already before the market verdict comes in. Moreover, jobs are going to look very different in an age of AGI (artificial general intelligence). Just like with the industrial revolution, new jobs will be created. And I can go on on and on. But I digress.
There’s a hero’s arc in each inflection point. Every time the second derivative goes from negative to positive. The way Viola Davis puts it that that at the end of every hero’s journey, you come face-to-face with not a god, but yourself. And that is when the magic happens.
“Somewhere along the line is a voice deep within you that tells you exactly who you are; you just have to have the courage to do that. That’s what the journey of the hero is all about. You’re born into a world where you don’t fit in. You answer the call to adventure. And you deny the call. Then at some point you then set out on your path. You slay dragons, and you do all of that. At some point, you come face-to-face with not a god, but yourself. Somewhere along the line, you get it — your A-ha moment. Your elixir. And you go back to your ordinary world and share it with others. I think that’s the journey. I think that’s the privilege of being absolutely who you are — belonging to yourself and being brave.”
#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.
This past Wednesday, I was having lunch with an artist-turned-VC. And as you might imagine, we had to cover every topic at the intersection of art and startup investing. But of all the ground we covered, one stood out — content creation.
She’s on the Gram, LinkedIn, and everything in between. (Although surprisingly not on Twitter.) But to help her focus, she uninstalls those apps on her phone. Otherwise, she says she’ll end up “doomscrolling.” I get it. In fact, many of my friends and colleagues have shared similar things as well. But…
I’m weird. At least among my friend group, I’m really weird. I’m terrible at social media. I’m an 80-year old stuck in a 27-year old body. At least on the social media front. I find it so hard to keep my attention on social. In fact, I schedule ten minutes three times a week to hold myself accountable to be on LinkedIn and Twitter.
So, when it came to sharing my thoughts and learnings publicly, it was a pretty easy decision. Of course, I eventually came to self-rationalize it as the ability to own my own piece of virtual real estate, but there are three more reasons I chose blogging rather than tweeting or social posting.
1. I write to think
I’ve written about this before so I won’t elaborate in length on my own rationale here, but share a few examples of others also holding it in high regard.
There’s only so much you can flush out in just 280 characters, or over any short post. And while some of my thoughts fully flushed out may only be that long or less, not having that restriction gives me peace of mind to not hold back.
One of my favorite George Orwell lines happens to be: “If people cannot write well, they cannot think well. And if they cannot think well, others will do their thinking for them.”
On that same wavelength on writing, Jeff Bezos makes Amazon execs write six-page memos. In most companies, team members often resort to PowerPoint presentations. Take anywhere between five and ten slides. Maybe less, maybe more. It’s much less thought out than a six-page dissertation. As Bezos says, “The reason writing a ‘good’ four page memo is harder than ‘writing’ a 20-page PowerPoint is because the narrative structure of a good memo forces better thought and better understanding of what’s more important than what.”
Equally so, it’s the same reason the best investors write memos for their investment decisions. My favorite public ones are Bessemer’s, which encapsulates much of their thinking at the time in amber. Turner Novak also turned his ability to write great memos to eventually raising his fund, Banana Capital. And the great Brian Rumao writes memos not just pre-investment, but also in his post-mortems where he gathers his learnings.
While I won’t go as far as to comparing myself to the afore-mentioned, I do find great pleasure and great learning from putting words on paper.
2. Longer feedback loop
My writing is more often a form of self-expression, self-curiosity, and self-discovery. So, unlike a product manager or founder who’s relentlessly testing and iterating on feedback, I enjoy longer feedback loops. I may start another content engine at some point that is for a particular audience, focused on feedback and iteration. But this humble piece of virtual estate will stay me. With no algorithm conditioning my attention span and yearn for external validation. That’s not to say I won’t ever (or have not ever) written things that you my awesome readers want, but it is only at the intersection of what you want and the what I enjoy writing about and asking others about that mint content here.
I also spend a lot of time thinking about audience capture, a term Gurwinder brought to my attention in an essay he wrote about Nikocado Avocado, which I also touched on in an essay I wrote near the end of last year.
I’m reminded by something Gurwinderwrote a few months ago about the perils of audience capture. In it, he shares the story of Nikocado Avocado, who lost himself to his audience, in a section of that essay he calls: The Man Who Ate Himself. He also shares one line that I find quite profound:
“We often talk of ‘captive audiences,’ regarding the performer as hypnotizing their viewers. But just as often, it’s the viewers hypnotizing the performer. This disease, of which Perry is but one victim of many, is known as audience capture, and it’s essential to understanding influencers in particular and the online ecosystem in general.”
3. The impermanence of social media
Most things on social media are ephemeral in nature. It’s designed to capture the moment, but not chronicle the moments. On Twitter, you can only pin one tweet. On Instagram, you can pin three. And on LinkedIn, only three are visible on the featured carousel, and include, five max before it takes you down another layer of friction to discover more.
There’s a level of impermanence which makes thoughts feel whimsical rather than evergreen. To use a phrase I recently heard Tim Ferriss use, the “durability of the signal seems to wane so quickly.” And that made my thoughts feel cheap.
That’s not to say every post I write has their weight in gold, but the searchability and the evergreen nature of my favorite blogposts (saved in my “About” tab) are the reasons I keep most of my thoughts here.
#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.
“Somewhere along the line is a voice deep within you that tells you exactly who you are; you just have to have the courage to do that. That’s what the journey of the hero is all about. You’re born into a world where you don’t fit in. You answer the call to adventure. And you deny the call. Then at some point you then set out on your path. You slay dragons, and you do all of that. At some point, you come face-to-face with not a god, but yourself. Somewhere along the line, you get it — your A-ha moment. Your elixir. And you go back to your ordinary world and share it with others. I think that’s the journey. I think that’s the privilege of being absolutely who you are — belonging to yourself and being brave.”
In the world post-pandemic, people crave connection. A desire to go from URL to IRL. Everyone lost those years. Something everyone from a first grader to a college student to a young professional entering the workforce to a retiree could relate to. And in 2021, there was a re-emergence of events. Well-intentioned and well-founded. We had conferences, coffee chats, happy hours, fireside chats, oh, so many happy hours, panels, tech weeks, and… did I mention happy hours?
Most events out there are a time and a place for a collection of people. They’re static points in time. Not even counting the full spectrum of event planners, many of the best event planners spend tons of times on what makes events special, but change more about the small bells and whistles of an event than the overall flow. There are very few who take leaps of faith. Even less true for the vast majority of events, where events feel more of an afterthought than something that is designed to start or end a chapter in your life.
As such, everyone found themselves left with a goodie bag including a surplus of events, a lack of focus and attention, and a lollipop of exhaustion.
So, I had a thought last year, greatly inspired by my team at On Deck Angels. Instead of trying to host an event a month, what would need to change if we could only do one event a year? What would we have to do? Hell, extrapolating further, what if we only did one event every two years? Three years? Every Olympic arc? Which led to the thinking around, what do we need to do to make this the most memorable event that anyone has ever been to.
You see, I’ve hosted and co-hosted small and large-scale social experiments, but it was always for an audience who proactively and voluntarily signed up for. They were willing to do things outside the ordinary. But could I apply the same learnings to events for really, busy people who crave intellectual challenges, and who have been to so many events, they might be jaded?
So, below was and continues to be my collection of governing thoughts around answering that question, which will only grow and refine this year. In the theme of my blogpost last week, the below may be messy. Disorganized. Chaotic, even. Hope not, but possible. You’ve been warned. But I do hope that you might find at least one of the below frameworks useful.
Metrics for success
Every event needs a North Star. When planning the Angel Forum, as well as future events, below are mine.
Attendees go on a hero’s journey, revisiting Viola Davis’ words above. In other words, character development. The event should create opportunities for growth within the event itself.
Every attendee continues to and is motivated to build friendships (as opposed to networking and purely transactional connection) after the event. If the event itself is the only reason for people to connect, but it does not give people incentive to after, it’s a failure (in my books).
For now, that means, not only the speakers and the presenters need to be curated, but also each and every person on the guest list. I have yet to figure out how to customize such experiences at scale, where each person has wildly different goals.
Narrative frameworks I use for events
To dig a level deeper, here are my frameworks for execution:
Surprise and suspense — Surprise is when you relay information that the audience does not expect. Suspense is when you relay information that the audience is expecting, but does not know when it’ll drop. Suspense is how you keep attention. It raises expectation, but knowing when to deliver the news helps with creating a reality that meets or beats expectation. Surprise is, on the other hand, purely for creating alphas in this expectation-versus-reality model. It’s the main driver for overdelivering on a seemingly smaller, but still powerful promise. To do so, I find George Loewenstein’s 1994 paper on the psychology of curiosity super helpful. More on how the five triggers to curiosity influenced my thinking here.
Candy versus the meal — A Malcolm Gladwell framework. Effectively, how people think and what people actually talk about are quite different. Candy is what people talk about. For example, if I were to talk about the recent Avatar movie, I’d talk about how amazing the motion capture and the CGI was. And in doing so, I’ve spoiled nothing. It tells you nothing about the plot, but it’s exciting to talk about. On the other hand, the meal is how people think. It’s the whole package, the whole story. The meal has to be well-worth the visit, but the candy is what gets people excited. More on that in a previous essay I wrote here.
The audience must understand the rules of magic — This is a combination of the thoughts of Malcolm Gladwell‘s framework around tools and Brandon Sanderson’s three laws of magical systems. Give the audience tools to use at the very beginning of the event. It could be a framework for how to think about the event and every activity in between. It could be physical tools that they will employ throughout the event. And once you do, make sure your audience knows how to use those tools. Test them. Give them small, but easy case studies and questions. Make it easy. Don’t put them on the spot. And by completing that test, that satisfaction and joy will help motivate them to use it more later. As Sanderson’s first law of magic goes, “your ability to solve problems with magic in a satisfying way is directly proportional to how well the reader understands said magic.” More on my thoughts on Sanderson’s laws here.
Plots — Like any good story, the narrative is governed by plots. The plot must thicken and build towards a climax. And it must be resolved by the end of the event. Leave little in the main plot to chance, but leave room for each guest to discover something extraordinary. Maintaining a minor amount of stress and uncertainty, while sharing examples and reminders of being open-minded to new experiences, goes a long way. Only after stepping outside one’s comfort zone can one grow.
Always use the audience’s time in a way that does not feel wasted — Inspired by one of the greatest writers of all time, Kurt Vonnegut. I forget which lecture he did that I learned this from. But it’s always been a governing theme for what I do.
End on an ending where the reader can imagine no other — No loose ends. Everything that is teased (whether the audience realizes it or not) needs to be resolved by the end. This might be a semi-controversial opinion among storytellers and creative professionals. But I’m biased. I like my stories to end with a bowtie.
In closing
As you might imagine, much of this is still incomplete. And I hope to share more as I continue down this path of exploration and discovery.
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.
“If you look at all big human achievements, like flying to the moon, for instance, it’s all based on large scale cooperation. How did humans get to the moon? It wasn’t Neil Armstrong flying there by himself. There were millions of people cooperating to build the spaceship, to do the math, to provide the food, to provide the special clothing, and the funding.
“The big question becomes: why are we capable of cooperating on such a large scale when chimpanzees or elephants or pigs can’t?
“It’s the ability to invent and believe fictional stories.”
For any big achievement, and I’m specifically reminded of the recent news with FTX — for FTX to get as large as it did at its peak — it was a monumental achievement. It was the work of many, rather than a single individual. It was the result of many buying into this narrative that Sam Bankman-Fried shared. That includes his team. His customers. His investors, from Sequoia to Tiger to Softbank to Coinbase. Many of whom are smart people who gave into the velocity of the market the last two years.
Source: Sequoia article on FTX While I’m not sure how I feel about founders playing games during the meeting, I can’t deny the vision isn’t compelling.
To be fair, and this is not to condone the wrongdoings of the FTX team, every founder’s job is to distort reality. To put the human race on a fast track towards a future that is non-fiction to the founder, but fiction to everyone else. A world that isn’t false, but has yet to come. As author William Gibson once said, “The future is already here — it’s just not evenly distributed.”
I also love the thesis of Alexia‘s fund, Dream Machine. We make science fiction non-fiction.
Founders pitch their answer to: What will the world look like? Investors, customers, and talent then make bets with their time and money on which future they would like to see happen and the likelihood of it happening.
FTX is no exception. The fine line is when a founder does get creative, it is imperative for them to have a moral compass, which seems like SBF didn’t have. And of the million and one things they’ve done wrong (no board, giving loans using customer money, fraud, etc. and some more that are more questionable in nature, like political donations, etc. — none of which from what little I know are things I would ever endorse), I have to say they nailed their marketing and messaging. They got a lot of people excited about it fast. It’s easier to get people excited about the future of money than the future of fintech or the future of crypto.
The past week has been an insane week for crypto, namely when FTX filed for bankruptcy. And while there are many different angles to it, I took it upon myself to revisit a podcast episode from two months back where Nathaniel Whittemore, FTX’s former Head of Marketing, shared his marketing insights. Namely, around their 2021 Super Bowl ad.
A Super Bowl ad two years since its founding date. If nothing else, that’s impressive. Moreover, they got Larry David who has been known to never appear on ads to do it for them.
But what I found to be very powerful is Nathaniel breaks down why they chose to do a Super Bowl ad in the first place:
“People always focus on how much [an ad] costs. ‘This ad costs X.’ Which in a vacuum seems so high. […] What I think that analysis doesn’t take into consideration:
“The number of people actually watching those ads. If you’re gonna get X people with an ad that costs a $100,000, but then, 50x that with an ad that costs $5 million, that’s the same ratio.
“But the more important piece is that at least in America, the Super Bowl is the literal one moment each year that people not only are not annoyed with ads, but it is an active part of the experience that they’re having and they’re excited.”
He also does caveat that it doesn’t mean a Super Bowl is good for every kind of marketing campaign. But more so for brand-building, as opposed to product marketing or lead gen.
To echo that, David Sacks wrote a great piece on the importance of having an operating philosophy which I’ve referenced on this blog before. In it, he finds it incredibly powerful for companies to aggregate product updates and marketing campaigns in four big “lightning strikes” (each quarter) rather than have tidbits of information floating around every week.
Of course, companies like Twitch, Salesforce, Apple, and Google have taken it a step further by having a large launch event once a year. As Sacks mentions, “It’s not just about the external marketing value. There’s a huge internal benefit from setting dates and deadlines in order to hit a public launch.” It drives excitement and a narrative that both customers and future customers, as well as team members can get behind. The world is waiting. Your team is shooting to meet and beat expectations. And that’s incredibly motivating.
What does this mean for the crypto narrative?
A friend who took a hit from the recent series of events asked me at dinner last night, “What does this mean for crypto?”
Of which I think Yuval does a better job explaining it than I could. In the same podcast episode, he explains, “Not everybody believes in the same god or in any god. But everybody believes in money. And if you think about it, it’s strange because no other animal even knows that money exists. If you give a pig an apple in one hand and a pile of a million dollars in the other hand, the pig would obviously choose the apple. And the chimpanzee the same. And the elephant.
“Nobody, besides us, knows something like money exists in the world. The value of money doesn’t come from the paper. Most of the money in today’s world is not even paper; it’s just electronic data moving between computers. So where’s the value from? It’s from stories we believe.
“We are at risk of the whole thing collapsing. It happens from time to time in history. Inflation to some extent is that. The value of money is not what we were told it is. And inflation can sometimes hit thousands of persons and millions of persons. Eventually, the money becomes worthless.”
I don’t personally believe crypto will become worthless at any predictable point in the future. In fact, I think it has a great future ahead. Just a little early for its time from an infrastructure perspective. But, it is a non-zero possibility. That said, the more institutions, especially larger ones like FTX, that use crypto as the currency of faith, collapses, the more the faith behind the story of crypto will waver. And with repeated bad players, it is a race between mass adoption and the rate faith deteriorates.
For as long as the exchange currency is in dollars, crypto has still yet to be widely adopted. For instance, the value of crypto is pegged as a function of the dollar. As of the day I’m writing this on November 16th, 2022, if you type in bitcoin in Google search, the first search result is that Bitcoin is worth 16,768 US Dollars. In other words, as long as crypto is measured in dollars, the story of the dollar is stronger than that of crypto.
In closing
I’m not here to share my latest scoop or an update on the current situation about FTX. Twitter is filled with these already. Plenty of smart individuals have already covered all the ground I would ever even think about covering. I don’t keep my finger on the pulse of crypto and FTX nearly as much as my friends and colleagues.
Really, the purpose of this blogpost is really my curiosity that in order for FTX to get the notoriety that it has today, the team must have done something really well. And in my eyes, it’s not the product or the business, but the narrative in which they built. So, if someone at HBS or GSB isn’t writing a case study on this, they should.
P.S. Had to pass this to two friends at 6AM this morning to see if this blogpost was even worth publishing. Bless their hearts for their support so early in the morning.
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.
“Art is to console those who are broken by life.” — Van Gogh
An investor I deeply respect recently told me, I am “really good” at long-form writing. Admittedly, even writing the sentence just before leaves me just as squirmy as when he first said it. I am of course genuinely grateful for the compliment. But my childhood prevents from fully appreciating and accepting a kind compliment.
Rather than having a practiced eye for structure and prose — which I’m sure the real linguists and writers will have much to critique on my lack thereof… for me, I can’t imagine a world where I can boil down distinct and nuanced thoughts from multiple sources in one tweet. Which could mean three things:
I was never great at writing college apps.
I am terrible at Twitter.
I have trouble saying No to people and options.
Don’t get me wrong. There are many things out there are best expressed simply — that need no further elaboration. My blogposts on 99 pieces of unsolicited advice are examples of such. One for investors. One for founders.
Nevertheless, longer form writing helps me think. My mind is often a mess, and sometimes I wonder how I make it by with a mind that looks like the inside of an average college boy’s dorm room. It is most evidenced when I speak, but least explicit when I write. I have time to mull over thoughts. I have time to realize that not every thought, idea, Eureka! moment is a productive one.
I apologize if I seem smarter than I am. I’m not. I’m just another person looking to learn my way through life. Curious enough to know I am lacking, but confident enough knowing I can get there. When confidence in my self-worth wanes, I find solace and therapy in the letters that I ink on a page.
I’ve shared this analogy a few times with friends. That there are artists. And there are designers. The latter fulfills a need their audience has. The latter creates where the audience is someone other than themselves (while that doesn’t have to be mutually exclusive to building for oneself). For the former, the audience is themselves. It is a form of expression unforgiving to the remarks and views of others. While others may appreciate it, you create for yourself. In a way, the best entrepreneurs start as an artist but end up as a designer. For me, this humble piece of virtual real estate is my art gallery. And a small part of me fears becoming a designer through this blog. I save the design work for other parts of my life.
I’ve been fortunate to have sponsors reach out to support this virtual acreage in the wider, increasingly saturated market of content. As you might have noticed, I’ve turned down everyone so far. Partly because of alignment, but mostly, I’m not yet sure if I want to turn writing into a job. To me, writing is comforting. It’s a sanctuary where I can isolate, even briefly, from the equivalent of noisy San Franciscan streets filled with sirens and honks every minute. And upon receiving payment, I would find myself in debt to someone or some entity. That’s fine if it was an essay or a piece of content I wanted to write anyway. But so far, it hasn’t been. And if it’s not, I find myself enjoying this therapeutic process just a little less.
I’m reminded by something Gurwinderwrote a few months ago about the perils of audience capture. In it, he shares the story of Nikocado Avocado, who lost himself to his audience, in a section of that essay he calls: The Man Who Ate Himself. He also shares one line that I find quite profound:
“We often talk of ‘captive audiences,’ regarding the performer as hypnotizing their viewers. But just as often, it’s the viewers hypnotizing the performer. This disease, of which Perry is but one victim of many, is known as audience capture, and it’s essential to understanding influencers in particular and the online ecosystem in general.”
I know many of you came to this blog via the content I write about startups and venture. At least that’s what WordPress tells me. If you came here expecting only that kind of content, I will have to disappoint. And I’m happy to send you recommendations of what I read in that arena. If you came here for that and a little more, I’m excited to share more of my takeaways as I traverse this blue planet. Who knows? Maybe one day beyond.
Nevertheless, I appreciate every one of you for giving me time in your day. Stay tuned!
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.
My friends who know me well know I have this concept I call work-work balance. And in sharing it with someone new, it’s usually met with a light chuckle. I never mean it as a joke. But nevertheless, people take it as my attempt to be snarky and witty.
I believe most of you, my readers, are familiar with work-life balance. A lifestyle that balances work and your life outside of work, often one that spends the capital earned though work. When I hear most people say it aloud, its most frequent use case is in avoidance of doing more work. But the underlying principle is that most people don’t enjoy the work they do. Rather, they find their joy and fulfillment in pursuing hobbies and passions outside of the confines of a 9-to-5.
Just like having a work-life balance is a privilege, having a work-work balance is, in my humble opinion, even more so one. Speaking of privilege, earlier this week, I had the fortune of hearing a rather profound line:
“If you do one thing in life that fuels and motivates you, then you should yourself lucky.”
So, in even talking about work-work balance, I admit I came from a position of privilege, but one I do not think is unattainable for those who also have the privilege of debating the technicalities of work-life balance.
Work-work balance is the balance of doing what you love doing with work that you need to do to continue doing what you love doing. To me, work that I enjoy doing — interesting projects — fulfills me. It gives me meaning and purpose in life. To best illustrate this concept, I’m going to have to steal Elizabeth Gilbert‘s line in a 2016 interview with On Being. It’s not the first, and it won’t be the last time I quote her here:
“Everything that is interesting is 90 percent boring.”
When you’re proud to have work be your identity
Starting something — anything that is going to be core to your identity, even if it is only briefly — is going to be unhealthy.
Being a great venture-backed founder is unhealthy. Starting a venture fund from scratch is unhealthy. Being a world-class content creator is unhealthy. Being a diligent and serial author is… well, you get it. Hell, even binge-watching the latest and greatest Netflix show is unhealthy.
It is also the difference between passion and obsession. One keeps you daydreaming; the other keeps you from sleeping.
I’m not advocating that everyone live an unhealthy lifestyle, but that the concept of work-life balance is a lifestyle that doesn’t fit everyone, but those who have not or have yet to find deep fulfillment in the professional aspect of their life. For those who have found their life’s work, work-work balance may be a more sought-after lifestyle. In working mainly with founders and emerging fund managers, their life stories seem to corroborate the previous sentence.
In the world of startups, I often tell founders, and have many a time, advised founders not to take venture capital. There is no shame in creating an great and fulfilling lifestyle business. But as soon as you take venture, that’s a different story. After all, another name for venture capital is impatient capital. It is the perfect permutation of not just ambition, but also of expectation. The greater you raise in venture, the greater the expectation.
A $10 million valuation is not a number indicative of your company value. In fact, I think the 409a valuation does a better job of that than what VCs price your company at. Rather, a $10 million valuation on a social media company is a bet that you have a 0.0025% chance — a 1 in 40,000 chance — that you’ll be as big as Meta. At least at the time of writing this blogpost. Equally so, a $1 billion valuation is a bet on the odds that you have a 1 in 400 chance to grow as big as Meta. As Uncle Ben said, “with great power comes great responsibility.”
And as such, the expectation and the will of your new bosses — your investors — is that you can scale a team that can help you capture that opportunity. And for VCs, or die trying. Many, if not most, great VCs would much rather you bat for the home run than walk a base. After all, the success of an investor is not defined by their batting average but the magnitude of home runs she or he hits. But I digress.
As a founder, you must love your work so much that it’s contagious. That it affects your investors, your team, and your customers. Why? Because in the course of building a rocket ship, there are a million and one things that can go wrong, and a million and two things that feel tedious, repetitive, and slow. And the work you enjoy doing must be so powerful that just the thought of being able to do more of it invigorates you through the long troughs between wins.
I say all this to every founder I’ve met who didn’t fall madly in love with their problem space and who expect venture funding. The going will get tough, and I, like many other investors, want to know that you have the grit to make it through this long, windy journey. Having a good pulse on work-work balance is one of a few proxies for that grit.
Of course, I do want to posit that a work-work balance doesn’t mean you should make prolonged sacrifices to your mental health, your sleep schedule, or your time with friends and family.
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.
