Category: #unfiltered

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#unfiltered #70 Conviction Comes From The Stories We Tell Ourselves

focus, conviction, motivation

On the second half of a late summer Friday, as I was overlooking the singed blades of the parched grass in our front yard, I found my good friend, Andrew, in my inbox. An inbox that was about to be empty from filing an eclectic collection of investor updates, food science analyses, tech articles, and my weekly subscription of Substack extraordinaires into my Read Later folder.

An email headline in boldface. All it would take would be two clicks. Two clicks to add to my party of internet writers I would be conversing with over a Saturday morning of roasted hojicha tea. Instead, I clicked once. Just once. And I’m glad I did.

Andrew started writing again. Pen to paper. Or rather, finger to keyboard. And that, that was worth celebrating. I, like many of his other friends, had been starved, deprived, relieved of his prose given his busy schedule. In it, he postulated the relationship between commitment and conviction.

“Commitment helps you stay on the path. Conviction is what calls you to the path in the first place.”

In sum, the pre-requisite for commitment is conviction. And so, it got me thinking about the source of conviction…

From inspiration

For decades, athletes have tried to break the 4-minute mile. According to British author John Bryant, since 1886. “It had become as much a psychological barrier as a physical one. And like an unconquerable mountain, the closer it was approached, the more daunting it seemed.”

But it wasn’t till May 6, 1954, did Roger Bannister break it with a time six-tenths under the mark. As soon as Bannister did it, 46 days later, another did. One year later, three runners broke the once elusive 4-minute barrier in one race.

The thing is, nothing technological had changed in the world when all these runners post-Bannister broke the four minutes. Nutrition hadn’t drastically improved. Neither was there drastic evolution in the technology of shoes. Yoram Wind and Colin Crook argues it was a mindset shift. The impossible was possible.

We see the same notion today in the world of emerging markets. In these markets, the first wave of unicorn founders is usually spearheaded by Harvard and Stanford grads building X for Latam or Y for Africa. For instance, both of Grab’s founders are HBS graduates. Gojek’s Nadiem is no exception. Nubank’s David Velez holds a similar Stanford GSB degree. So does Cabify’s Juan de Antonio. Rappi’s founders are also Stanford alumni. And the list goes on. They come with the Silicon Valley mindset in a market underestimated by not only the broader world but by the homegrown talent themselves. I like the way a Midwest founder-turned-investor once put it, “My mind is in Silicon Valley, but my feet are in the Midwest.” The same is true for this first wave.

And once they’ve proven it’s possible to reach unicorn status, the second wave follows quickly after.

Most people follow in the footsteps of our predecessors. Older siblings are the same for their younger siblings. Parents are that for their children. While I’m not a parent yet myself, I do aspire to be that for my children. Equally so, that’s why we need diverse representation in media, in positions of power, and in stories.

For many, conviction comes from examples to disprove the limitations of our own imagination.

From emotion

For a handful of others, conviction comes from a deep desire to prove or disprove.

There’s a superpower that comes with being underestimated. Reddit’s founders famously hung on the office walls the words of a Yahoo! exec who told them,  they were nothing but a “rounding error.”

When Michael Phelps’ eight gold medals in Beijing were on the line, their coach Bob used what the French team was boasting on the papers as motivation in the locker rooms. “The Americans? We’re going to smash them. That’s what we came here for.” And soon after, the world was blessed with one of the greatest races to date. A race of which the Americans — the underdogs — pulled a miraculous spectacle of conviction and resolve.

For founders, you need obsession, not just passion. Many of the best ones have a personal vendetta — a deep, unquenchable desire borne out of time spent in the idea maze. Every successful founder needs to perform 10-15 miracles in the startup to household name journey. Trials by fire that are meant to deter the fainthearted.

After chatting with a number of limited partners (LPs, folks who invest in venture funds) over the past two months, I’ve realized the thread of founder obsession continues here. That investor-market fit is not just a function of professional experience but also of life experience. Once again, a deep desire to change the world from personal frustrations and the hope that no one will ever have to go through what they went through.

In closing

Earlier this year, Reed Hastings shared a profound line with the graduating class, “[stories are] about harnessing the human spirit.” Conviction starts from the story we tell ourselves. The story itself is bound by the limitations of our own imagination. And conviction happens to be the belief that we can will our imagination into existence.

Michelangelo once said, “The sculpture is already complete within the marble block, before I start my work. It is already there, I just have to chisel away the superfluous material.” Commitment is the dedication to your conviction. A devotion to say no to distractions and yes to the person you want to be.

We live in a world filled with shiny objects. So, ask yourself, do you want what others want? Or what you truly want? Is your conviction inherited or innate?

I was listening to the latest episode of the All-In podcast, and David Friedberg echoed a similar notion for the greater human race, “What differentiates humans from all other species on Earth is our ability to tell stories. A story is a narrative about something that doesn’t exist. And by telling that narrative, you can create collective belief in something. And then that collective belief drives behavioral change and action in the world.”

Photo by Devin Avery on Unsplash

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

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

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

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#unfiltered #69 Maintaining Composure

meditation, zen, silhouette

When I was in New York last week, I had the fortune of catching up with one of my favorite people inside the rustic walls of Il Buco. Needless to say, an hour and a half was not enough to contain months of development and change. So, to continue our tea, the next day, after she met up with the one of the heavyweights in her industry, she asked:

“How do you keep your enthusiasm in check but show it to the extent that shows respect to the person and also have a conversation as equals?”

In sum, how do you fangirl/fanboy without losing your composure?

I don’t. It happens less frequently now, but I still do.

In fact, even when I try not to or attempt to convince my conscious self, this is just another human being doing their best to live the life they want, there’s something that my eyes do without fail every single time. Here’s to hoping it’s not painfully obvious to the other person.

In fairness, I actually don’t know what I look like when it happens. I can just feel and SEE it through my eyes every time. In fact, I don’t even know what this phenomenon is called. Or if there’s a word for it. If I were to describe it, it’d be if the thousand-yard stare and diplopia had a baby.

It’s completely involuntary. All my other senses and cognitions work just fine. And when it happens, I start blinking a lot more which usually recalibrates my gaze.

Physiological response aside, over time, I’ve simmered down my ability to respond into two ways, especially when my brain decides to turn off. One for each situation.

  1. I’m prepared. For instance, this is a scheduled meeting, or I know I will see this person at an upcoming event.
  2. I’m unprepared. The canonical serendipitous elevator ride. For instance, bumping into them at an event. Or true story, we happened to both be helping to carry A/V equipment backstage post-show.

When I’m prepared…

The goal here is to know the other person better than they know themselves at the point in time. This is the same mentality I carry into both conversations in public and private spaces. The former with interviews, fireside chats, and panel discussions. The latter in the form of coffee chats, dinners, happy hours, and the like.

Depending on the timeframe, I come prepared with a different number of questions. But generally, for every 30 minutes, I come with three questions.

The first question is to establish rapport. And it’s always a personal one. I almost never start the conversation with pure “business.” This sets the tone for the rest of the conversation, as well as how candid they will be with you.

You’ll have to do your research. Some may require more digging than others. That said, don’t take it too far by finding their home address or social security number. Here, I usually look for fun facts. Like they did street dancing back in high school or they love going to stand up comedy shows.

If you’re going to take away one thing with this question, it’s to surprise and delight.

For the second one, which is usually the optional question if we’re short on time, I love understanding people’s inflection points. For example, why did they go from consulting to acting? Or from an art gallerist to a VC?

Not just the fact that they went through a massive delta, but I love understanding what they were thinking before, during and after they made the transition. Was it a decision that was supported by their family and/or peers? Was it a difficult decision to make? What got them over the activation energy to commit to this new lifestyle?

The third question is akin to the one I always advise founders to think about when talking to investors. Why would this investor be the best dollar for your cap table? Similarly, even if you’re not raising money, what kind of question can only the person in front of you answer? Or very few others can? It’s usually a function of their work or life experience, where they end up becoming uniquely positioned to talk about that topic.

As a prelude to this last question, I usually preface why this question means a lot to me. Why do I need this answer? Show that you have spent time in the idea maze. Time thinking deeply about the topic already. Naturally, anything that is googleable is off-limits here.

You have one chance to make a great first impression. Don’t waste it.

Cutting it short

Just as it’s important to start the conversation on a high note, in my opinion, it’s even more important to end the conversation on a higher note. As such, I have a three rules of thumb:

  1. Never overstay your welcome. It’s always better to cut the conversation short than to end with awkward silence. Be extremely acute to where the clock is compared to how much time you’ve asked of them.
  2. Have a go-to phrase (or phrases) to end the conversation. One of my favorites is, “As with all great conversations, we ran out of time before we ran out of topics.” (The cat’s out of the bag, so now I need a new one.)
  3. Follow up within 12 hours of the conversation with notes from the conversation, and action items on your end. For instance, if the other person shared advice with you that you solicited, be sure to act on it. Come back two weeks to a month later and share the results of your findings. As you might suspect, bring a pen and paper for the conversation. People really respect it when you take their thoughts seriously. During, and even more so, after.

    If possible, pay it forward, and when that time comes, don’t be afraid to share it with the source of the advice.

When I’m unprepared…

While still worthwhile in the former situation, you need to be able to break the ice quickly and give others a reason to listen to you for just two more minutes. People are naturally busy. And if you disrupt their normal flow of life, their whole goal while you are speaking to them is not how they can talk to you more, but about how they can get back to doing what they were doing.

Just as much as you will be unprepared, they will be too. As such, you need to disrupt their flow even momentarily. Your short 10-second bio needs to generate emotion and curiosity. Oftentimes, that is not your title. For instance, one that I like using with folks who I know to be lighthearted and have no context to the startup world is, “I get paid to be the dumbest person in the room.” Self-deprecating humor really does help for folks who can and have time to take a joke.

Other than your short bio, always have 2-3 questions handy via muscle memory that are good to ask in almost any situation AND would give you immense insight. I’ll share one of mine, and likely many more in the future with my DGQ series on this blog.

In your line of work, what differentiates the great from the good? Not just the good from the bad, but how do I tell the very best from the ones that have yet to get there but are still a cut above the rest?

Practice these again and again. In front of a mirror. In the shower. Or while you’re driving. Until they become second nature.

In closing

The important thing to remember is these people don’t owe you anything. And sometimes, while you can’t give them what they want, you can make that amount of time you have with them amusing. Insight doesn’t just come in the form of answers but also questions that get others to think in ways they didn’t before. Going back to one of my favorite Kurt Vonnegut lines:

“Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.“

Photo by RKTKN on Unsplash

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

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

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

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#unfiltered #68 Staying Humble

I am by no means the best equipped to talk about this topic, nor have I achieved any modicum of success that I can call my life’s work yet. But the beauty about being insatiably curious is that I’ve gotten to know some incredible individuals, like…

  • Multi-time New York Times best-selling author
  • Founder of a household corporate brand
  • Investors who have consistently returned their investors over 10 times their investment
  • Individuals who have achieved insane, superhuman feats (i.e. climbing Mt. Everest, Olympic medalist, etc.)
  • Creator of a popular TV show
  • Chefs will multiple Michelin stars
  • A mother who serves as the role model for her children
  • A war refugee turned serial venture-backed founder
  • A veteran with multiple Purple Hearts

Unfortunately, while this isn’t true for all world-class performers I’ve met — to borrow one of Tim Ferriss’ phrases, many continue to stay curious, studious, restless, and most of all, humble. For those who continue to stay humble, how do they do it? After all, they have every right down to their bone to exhibit a large ego. To be full of themselves. They’ve made it.

What powers their humility? A question I find fascinating and telling of character.

Admittedly, I wish I could’ve been less obtuse about how I asked the above question.

After a number of conversations over the years, there are four chief themes:

  1. Their greatest achievement is still ahead of them. They know what is possible, and continuously seek the adrenaline of doing the impossible. As long as the impossible is ahead of them, they are fighting a war against antiquated, yet widely-adopted mindsets. And the thing with the impossible is that it’s impossible to do it alone.
  2. They fear they are unable to outdo their last greatest achievement. That fear either slides into depression or a burning fire to prove themselves wrong. That fire continues to keep them on their feet, anxious of the day they disappoint others, but most of all, themselves.
  3. They have friends and family they deeply trust. They value the opinion of their confidants to keep them grounded. Confidants who prevent the hype get to the individual’s head, without discounting his/her achievement.
  4. They themselves meet with exceptional people who show them the world is bigger than their pond. Exceptional people who challenge what they themselves know and what they think they know, helping them realize the limitations of their own world.

Regardless of what stage of life we are at, I believe there are life lessons here for everyone else as well.

  1. Your greatest achievement is ahead of you. Don’t spend too much time on the past, even if you are proud of it.
  2. Find a support group who’ll be with you even when times are tough — when your faith in yourself falters.
  3. And, hopefully that same support group of friends and family will keep you grounded, even when the world tells you, you are a god.
  4. Meet with people who challenge you, who inspire you, and who motivate you to act.

Of all the above, I’d love to double-click that last lesson in particular. There are two kinds of lives that great people live:

  1. A life to envy
  2. Or a life to respect

A life to envy is a life you would love to live instead of your own. It is often easier and more privileged than your own. A life born with a silver spoon in their mouths already. And if not that, a life of fairly few struggles or of extreme luck uncorrelated with their ability to hustle. These individuals often live only briefly in the limelight and find it difficult to repeat the “success” they’ve had. For instance, winning the lottery or being born into a well-off family.

A life to respect is a life where the individual overcomes seemingly impossible odds. One built with sacrifice — blood, sweat, and tears. It wasn’t an easy one. But where they are today is a testament to the scar tissue they’ve built over the course of their life. There are chapters in these lives that could and would rip apart the average person. This life is a life best viewed in a cinematic theater, but not one most people would want to live themselves, even though the status quo may be something they desire for themselves. I often find the world’s best founders in this category. And these lives often stand the test of time.

Most of these people won’t forget the past they came from. They continue to have insatiable curiosity and a bias to action. As such, they continue to learn at an astonishing pace. They continue to inspire us and motivate us to be better. And even before they succeed, many of their peers who don’t join them for the perilous journey merely comment on how they’re “built different.”

These are the same people I love spending time with. And hoping that when I do “make” it, I won’t forget their wisdom.

Photo by Joshua Earle on Unsplash

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

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

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

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#unfiltered #67 How To Make Writing Easy For Those Struggling

writing

A founder looking to write more long-form recently asked me, “What does your writing process look like?” As I was sharing my long answer to her short question, I realized, “Holy f**k, my writing process sure has evolved over the past few years.” In an effort to encase my current thoughts in amber, I find myself transcribing thoughts from gray matter to illegible scribblings. And from a 180-grams-per-meter-squared canvas to a two-dimensional electronic screen once again.

A trip down memory lane

I remember when my friend first asked me, “How are you able to commit to a weekly writing schedule? Aren’t you busy enough?” And I shared a secret with him. Something that one of my mentors shared with me.

Before officially starting my blog, I wrote 10 essays – a Plan B in case I ever went through a dry spell. Knowing I had the comfort of a cheat week and still having content to put out gave me the courage to continue writing every week. Almost three years later, of those 10 initial pieces, I’ve only two of the afore-mentioned. In the world of content creation, there’s a massive graveyard of creators who never make it past 10 pieces of content – be it blogposts, podcast episodes, YouTube videos, and so on. I would know. I started 3 blogs before this one. For each of the three prior to this one, I have an epitaph that made it to five or less posts.

The evolution of process

In my first year, I usually spent time conceiving a blogpost at night when I found myself to be the most creative, and editing the same one in the morning before the rooster cried to the awakening sun, when I found myself free of distraction and in peak efficiency. Yet despite a greatly industrialized process, one consistent theme throughout 2019 and 2020 was regret from publishing an essay too soon. There were multiple cases where I’d stumble on new, yet relevant information often within hours of publishing. In fact, this gnawing yarn of remorse reached such a level of prowess that I was re-editing blogposts by the paragraph on a monthly basis. Sorry to all of my early subscribers. Good news is you have your very own limited edition copies of David-jumped-the gun-again.

And so I started delaying my publishing schedules – to account for this sense of continual regret. In my current phase, I break down writing into three phases:

  1. Time to create
  2. Time to ruminate
  3. Time to edit

Time to create

One of my friends once told me the secret to creativity is to “give your brain time to be bored.” DJ, one of the most creative people I know, having worked to create some of the most iconic animations we know today during his time at Cartoon Network and Lucasfilm, and now a YouTuber with over half a million subscribed, once shared with me, “Creativity is a residue of time wasted.”

When I asked him to unpack that statement, he said, “Good ideas are gifts from the universe – fish that swim in that river. All you have to do is learn how to reach up and fish for them. And just like fishing, if you stick around long enough – if you’re patient enough, you’ll be able to catch a few. But you never know what fish you’ll reel in. Just that you will.”

And he’s right. The more time you spend moving or doing, the less bandwidth your brain has to explore new possibilities. The nuance here is not to block some amount of time every day to ideate. In fact, if you’ll allow me to be brutally honest, while it is giving yourself time to be bored, it’s too structured. And by definition, creativity, like DJ mentioned, is unstructured thinking. Subsequently, blocked time often creates unnecessary stress and anxiety to create. Especially when your mind is drawing blanks and you’re on a clock.

Instead, allocate time immediately after your brain has been given 10 or more minutes to be bored. For example, after you take a shower. Or go on a 30-minute run. Or a 20-minute power nap. Simply, even going on a 20+ minute walk helps your brain re-center and refresh. And always, always write down your ideas. No matter how awesome or lame you think it is. The more you practice the art of ideating, the more consistently better your ideas will be. Not saying that I’m the most creative person out there, but I still have “trash” ideas every so often, but at a far less frequency than when I started.

Time to ruminate

If you’ve ever bought a new car – for the sake of this essay, a black Toyota Camry – as soon as you buy it, you start noticing more black Toyota Camry’s on the street. In fact, you’ll start being able to identify the 2022 versions versus the 2021 or the 2016 ones. A combination of recency bias and confirmation bias. The same holds if you go to a new restaurant, you’ll start noticing that it pops up more in conversations with friends or as you’re scrolling through Instagram.

On the same side of the token, once you seed an idea in your brain (or better, on paper), you start realizing, there is more content and discourse in the world about said idea than you once thought. In the time I spend between creating and editing, I stumble upon or (re)discover articles, podcasts, conversations, experts in my network, just to name a few, when I give my brain time to ruminate.

I like to visualize the scene from Ratatouille when Remy is savoring the individual and collective flavors of the strawberry and cheese, unlike his brother Emile who gorges food down without a second thought. Whereas Emile loses the magic of culinary world, Remy sees what no rat has been able to enjoy prior. Simply put, be Remy! Savor your thoughts.

Time to edit

For me, editing has become the easiest, yet hardest part of writing. All I have to do is string together words and thoughts. I have all the biggest pieces on paper already, but formatting, grammar, punctuation, you name it, feels just like busy work, especially where there are so many more productive things I could be doing.

So, time to edit is akin to time to be inspired. As such, there are two takeaways I’ve learned about myself over the past three years:

  1. I edit in the early morning or late at night. No one will ping me (usually). There is no urgency to respond. Simply, no distractions.
  2. I have a Google doc (which I might share one day, but as of now, it’s a hot mess) that includes all the pieces of content that has, in the past, inspired me to feel a distinct emotion. I use this library of emotions when the content I am creating (blogpost, email, pitch deck feedback, replying to a friend who’s in a rut) requires empathy. For example…
    1. If I want to feel sad, Thai life insurance commercials are my go-to 5-minute sadness augmenters. Here’s one of my favorites.
    2. For insecurity, I like to revisit Neil Gaiman’s short blogpost on imposter syndrome.
    3. For pure inspiration and drive, Remember the Name or any of Eminem’s songs.

In closing

While I don’t timebox myself in this 3-step process, on average, writing a blogpost takes me about two to three weeks. In case your curious, any blogpost where I lead with a sentence that includes “recently” instead of a set time probably took a few weeks to come to fruition.

In effect, writing never feels like a chore. Rather, it’s inspired. Inspiring. Uplifting. And de-stressing.

Photo by John Jennings on Unsplash

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

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

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

Posted on

#unfiltered #66 Humans and Nonlinear Thinking

Humans are terrible at understanding percentages. I’m one of them. An investor I had the opportunity to work with on multiple occasions once told me. People can’t tell better; people can only tell different. It’s something I wrestle with all the time when I hear founder pitches. Everyone claims they’re better than the incumbent solution. Whatever is on the market now. Then founders tell me they improve team efficiency by 30% or that their platform helps you close 20% more leads per month. And I know, I know… that they have numbers to back it up. Or at least the better founders do. But most investors and customers can’t tell. Everything looks great on paper, but what do they mean?

When the world’s wrapped in percentages, and 73.6% of all statistics are made up, you have to be magnitudes better than the competition, not just 10%, 20%, 30% better. In fact, as Sarah Tavel puts it, you have to be 10x better (and cheaper). And to be that much better, you have to be different.

And keep it simple. As Steve Jobs famously said that if the Mac needed an instruction manual, they would have failed in design. Your value-add should be simple. Concise. “We all have busy lives, we have jobs, we have interests, and some of us have children. Everyone’s lives are just getting busier, not less busy, in this busy society. You just don’t have time to learn this stuff, and everything’s getting more complicated… We both don’t have a lot of time to learn how to use a washing machine or a phone.”

If you need someone to learn and sit down – listen, read, or watch you do something, you’ve lost yourself in complexity.

“Big-check” sales is a game of telephone. For enterprise sales or if you’re working with healthcare providers, the sales cycle is long. Six to nine months, maybe a year. The person you end up convincing has to shop the deal with the management team, the finance team, and other constituents.

For most VCs writing checks north of a million, they need to bring it to the partnership meeting. Persuade the other partners on the product and the vision you sold them.

And so if your product isn’t different and simple, it’ll get lost in translation. Think of it this way. Every new person in the food chain who needs to be convinced will retain 90% of what the person before them told them. A 10% packet loss. The tighter you keep your value prop, the more effective it’ll be. The longer you need to spend explaining it with buzzwords and percentages, the more likely the final decision maker will have no idea why you’re better.

Humans are terrible at tracking nonlinearities. While we think we can, we never fully comprehend the power law. Equally so, sometimes I find it hard to wrap my hear around the fact that 20% of my work lead to 80% of the results. While oddly enough, 80% of my inputs will only account for 20% of my results. The latter often feels inefficient. Like wasted energy. Why bother with most work if it isn’t going to lead to a high return on investment.

Yet at the same time, it’s so far to tell what will go viral and what won’t. Time, energy, capital investments that we expect to perform end up not. While every once in a while, a small project will come out of left field and make all the work leading up to it worth it.

When I came out with my blogpost on the 99 pieces of unsolicited advice for founders last month, I had an assumption this would be a topic that my readers and the wider world would be interested in. At best, performing twice as well than my last “viral” blogpost.

Cup of Zhou readership as of April 2022

Needless to say, it blew my socks off and then some. My initial 99 “secrets”, as my friends would call it, accounted for 90% of the rightmost bar in the above graph. And the week after, I published my 99 “secrets” for investors. While it achieved some modest readership in the venture community and heartwarmingly enough was well-received by investors I respected, readership was within expectations of my previous blogposts.

My second piece wasn’t necessarily better or worse in the quality of its content, but it wasn’t different. While I wanted to leverage the momentum of the first, it just didn’t catch the wave like I expected it to.

Of course, as you might imagine, I’m not alone. Nikita Bier‘s tbh grew from zero to five million downloads in nine weeks. And sold to Facebook for $100 million. tbh literally seemed like an overnight success. Little do most of the public know that, Nikita and his team at Midnight Labs failed 14 times to create apps people wanted over seven years.

When Bessemer first invested in Shopify, they thought the best possible outcome for the company would be an exit value of $400 million. While not necessarily the best performing public stock, its market cap, as of the time I’m writing this blogpost, is still $42 billion. A 100 times bigger than the biggest possible outcome Bessemer could imagine.

Humans are terrible at committing to progress. The average person today is more likely to take one marshmallow now than two marshmallows later.

Between TikTok and a book, many will choose the former. Between a donut and a 30-minute HIT workout, the former is more likely to win again. Repeated offences of immediate gratification lead you down a path of short-term utility optimization. Simply put, between the option of improving 1% a day and regressing 1% a day, while not explicit, most will find more comfort in the latter alternative.

James Clear has this beautiful visualization of what it means to improve 1% every day for a year. If you focus on small improvements every day for a year, you’re going to be 37 times better than you were the day you started.

While the results of improving 1% aren’t apparent in close-up, they’re superhuman in long-shot.

Source: James Clear

Photo by Thomas Park on Unsplash

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

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.

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#unfiltered #65 In Pursuit of Dreams

dreams

A friend asked me the other day, “If you meet a founder that you think isn’t going to make it, do you tell that founder?”

So I responded:

“Say you have a 7-year old daughter. And her biggest dream is to be an WNBA all-star. Or to be the president. Would you tell her ‘statistically speaking, you have almost no chance of succeeding?’ Or would you encourage her to keep pursuing her dream in spite of the odds? It’s the pursuit of a greater purpose that makes the person we are today and the person we will be tomorrow.

“Maybe your daughter doesn’t end up becoming a basketball star, but her pursuit of it lands her in Harvard where she meets incredible friends who end up growing together to be the next PayPal mafia. It’s the relentless pursuit of a dream that builds grit. And that grit will aid her well in whatever path she ends up choosing. Because the world is tough – no matter what you do. You will get beaten down again and again. And the difference between the ultra successful and everyone else is that the former continues to get back up.

“So when I meet a founder who’s championing an idea I don’t believe in, I neither have the guts nor the conviction to tell that person that it won’t work out, just that I won’t invest. ‘Cause if I know anything about the venture business, it’s that it keeps us humble. And every day I live in this industry, I have the privilege of being proven wrong. And even if I’m right, their pursuit makes them a more resilient person than before they began to do so.

“After all, there’s a big difference between impossible and really, really hard.”

Photo by Andreas Wagner on Unsplash

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

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

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

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#unfiltered #64 An Intellectual Renaissance

“Good writing is always about things that are important to you, things that are scary to you, things that eat you up. But the writing is a way of not allowing those things to destroy you.”
— John Edgar Wideman

I go through these sinusoidal episodes where I write about my journey as a person. A world where things just aren’t perfect. And I, like everyone else who graces this planet, am struggling to find where I fit in the world. And when I’m swimming in the depths of self-discovery, I find that for an audience of entrepreneurs and investors, I really haven’t written much about my discoveries and re-discoveries in the wonderful land of innovation. The other half of it is for my fear of knowledge atrophy.

And so, I spend back to back to back weeks writing about the inner workings and the robust mental models of some of the world’s top intellectual athletes. Then in hindsight, once again, I realize that my blog begins to read just like any other business blog – any other startup, VC, tech blog – out there. And I fear that I’ve lost my voice. So, I re-embark on a literary path of introspection and growth.

The great Charlie Kaufman once said about his time on Adam Resnick’s show, Get a Life, “Adam Resnick’s scripts were the best on the show. And we all tried to write in Adam’s voice. That was the job. And I was frustrated with my results. But it occurred to me that there was no solution to this problem as long as my job was to imitate someone else’s voice. I can maybe get close but I was never going to get better at it than Adam.

“The obvious solution was not to throw my hands up but try to find myself in a situation where I was doing me, not someone else. Do you. It isn’t easy, but it’s essential. It’s not easy because there’s a lot in the way. In many cases, a major obstacle is your deeply seated belief that ‘you’ is not interesting. And since convincing yourself that you are interesting is probably not going to happen, take it off the table. Agree.

“Perhaps I’m not interesting, but I am the only thing I have to offer. And I want to offer something. And by offering myself in a true way, I am doing a great service to the world. Because it is rare and it will help. As I move through time, things change. I change. The world changes. The way the world sees me changes.”

As a product of what I can only describe as a game of tug-of-war between my right and left brain, I start many essays and unfortunately, lose interest half-way through writing them. As such, I’ve amassed a far-reaching graveyard of zombie posts. Eclectic, disparate monologues. Neither fully alive nor fully dead. Some may see a phoenixlike revival. Others may forever rest as vestigial drafts until Indiana Jones excavates them.

But nevertheless, the act of writing to think – to express – hones my mind like a whetstone to a kitchen knife. The more I do so, the sharper I get. Yet too much so, without application, renders the act of sharpening useless.

A few days back, I stumbled across a fascinating tweet on atrophy and hypertrophy.

There are many things in life that atrophy over time – knowledge, skills, presence. Yet there are a handful of things that hypertrophy – brain, demand for proof, and space, just to name a few. For me, writing exists in both categories. Like most skills, it is perishable. Yet the more I see, hear, and learn, the more I demand to myself that I need to put pen on paper. A personal intellectual renaissance.

Photo by Ágatha Depiné on Unsplash

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

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

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

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#unfiltered #63 How To Be Selfish To Be Selfless

Back in my sophomore year of college, I was running to be the vice president of a business organization. Part of the requirement to run as one was to shadow at least two executives from previous generations who held the same role. Brownie points if you shadowed the broader executive team as well. The goal was to better prepare yourself by increasing the context you had about a new role.

I checked off those boxes with flying colors. In fact I ended up talking to more than 20 other executives and other key campus constituents we would be interfacing with. Along the way, I shared what I would do, not do, and do differently compared to previous roles. I also told them how I would forever change the organization and its impact on campus and students. Frankly, I felt like I was a on a roll. I was on top of the world.

Yet one winter night (it’s always the winter nights that get you), when I was on my haughty high horse, one person stopped me in my tracks. With one simple question. “What is your selfish motivation?”

“I’m going to change…”

“No, David… what is your selfish motivation?“

Flash-forward

Last week, one of my favorite hustlers reached out to me. She was planning to start a newsletter soon and wanted some advice from a fellow writer. After a few exchanges asynchronously, it became apparent that her biggest obstacle was keeping to a schedule. If you’re a frequenter here, you’ll have noticed I’ve already lost all semblance of a schedule other than publishing weekly. Some weeks I publish on Mondays. Others on Tuesdays. Some weeks see two essays. Others only one. But I have yet to lose my streak of publishing weekly. But I digress.

There’s a large graveyard filled with content creators who post ten or less times. Off the cuff, I dare say 90%. Prior to this blog, two of my other blogs were also no stranger to the obituary.

So, I posed the same question that stumped me all those years back. What is your selfish motivation?

What is your selfish motivation?

Most people, especially in the realm of entrepreneurship, job interviews, politics, and PR stunts, share their selfless motivations. Everyone’s a Samaritan. While there is some truth to it, everyone needs a really good selfish motivation.

On your best days, if your project is doing really well and you’re absolutely crushing it, your selfless motivation will be what you tell the latest press release, your cousins over the holidays – the story you pitch to others. The story you also tell yourself to give your job meaning. But on your worst days, when you want to give up, your selfish motivation is what’ll keep you going. When you’re at your worst, you won’t want to care for others. You care about yourself. What’ll keep you sane? If your selfish North Star isn’t strong enough, it’s easy to give up.

You need both. Your selfless motivation will help you reach for the stars. Your selfish motivation will prevent you from hitting rock bottom.

For example, for this blog, my selfless motivations are:

  1. Democratizing access to resources and education to help people move the world’s economy forward,
  2. Empowering founders to not fall through the same potholes I or other founders fell through – to make new mistakes not old, and
  3. Empowering and inspiring others to live more enriching lives.

It’s what I tell others. My lofty goal that’ll make writing this blog meaningful to me.

On the other hand, my selfish motivations are:

  1. I write to think. My thoughts are so much clearer on paper than if I just speak them. If I don’t write things down, I’m a mess.
  2. I forget things easily. Short term memory loss. And my blog is a way for me to catalogue my own learnings.
  3. I feel much more comfortable being vulnerable with strangers than with friends. So my blog helps me relieve much of my stress and anxiety.
  4. I am neither as good as people say I am nor as bad as people say I am. This blog keeps me honest.

In closing

That same winter night was the day of the winter equinox. I don’t mean to dramatize my little anecdote, but I nevertheless I do find it provides a little flavor to the story.

“No, David… what is your selfish motivation?”

“I don’t follow.”

“I ask every officer candidate this question. There will be days that you will hate the job more than you will love it. And I need to know if you have it in you to weather those days.”

I don’t remember what I told him that night. I don’t think it was a particularly honest answer. Or maybe I was honest. But it wasn’t enough. I didn’t get his vote of confidence, but I did enough legwork to get the approval of others.

In the end, I got the position. And he was right. Times got tough. There were days I hated the job. And on those days, in particular, I didn’t do anything remotely close to “changing the organization and its impact on campus.”

In his words, I wasn’t selfish enough.

Photo by Ian Chen 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!

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#unfiltered #62 What I Learned From Hosting Vulnerability Circles

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

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

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

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

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

Eyes are the windows to the soul

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

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

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

Give people a path to retreat for them to stay.

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

Then right below that question:

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

But if it’s “yes“, … [read on]

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

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

Being time sensitive doesn’t matter

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

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

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

In closing

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

Photo by Cathy Mü on Unsplash

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

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

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#unfiltered #61 How To Host A Fireside Chat 101

fireside chat

For years, I’ve given myself the lazy excuse. “I’m an introvert, so it’s okay if I’m bad at group conversations.” Empirically, the larger the group, the more I regress to being a wallflower. I was much more proficient at one-on-one and small group conversations than larger conversations. To be exact, to quote my friend, I was the “most David-like” in groups of 4 or less. I began to struggle in groups of 5-8. 9+ were the bane of my existence, at least on the front of contributing meaningfully to the conversation. And for the longest time, I never thought to look into that notion more, other than put myself in situations with larger groups and force myself to talk. I merely attributed my inadequacy to introversion and shyness.

For luck to stick

Yet, luck always has a way of finding its way to you. And if you’re curious, the best way to increase the surface area for luck to stick comes in two parts:

  1. Say yes meaningfully to more things.
  2. Have a bias to action.

What does saying yes meaningfully mean? This isn’t about saying yes to everyone and everything. This also isn’t about saying no to almost everything. I used to have a mantra, which I took from De Niro’s character in Ronin, “Whenever there is any doubt, there is no doubt.” Effectively, if I ever find myself in doubt, I shouldn’t hesitate to say no. But if you’re like me, I have the ability to second-guess everything. What can I say? I have a wild imagination. Eventually, that mantra led me to say no to almost everything in pre-2021. Subsequently, I cannot even imagine the number of opportunities I let slip through my fingers.

Saying yes meaningfully, on the other hand, meant my “yes” framework only needed to rely on a yes to at least one of two questions:

  1. Does this make me jump out of my chair right now?
  2. If I pursue this project, will I obtain skills, knowledge and relationships that will transcend the outcome of the project itself?

On the other hand, having a bias to action merely means to follow through with whatever you say you will do. Actions should always follow your words. If you say it, mean it.

Responsibility and accountability

A few months ago, a few of yes’s started to snowball. I began hosting fireside chats and panels, with an audience many times larger than the upper limit of my extroversion.

Unlike when I’m interviewing people for this blog or for a small podcast project I’m doing on the side with a friend, fireside chats are live by design. And because of that fact, backspace is not my friend.

Yet, despite it all, I didn’t succumb to the pressures of “extroversion”. Paired with a comparatively lower level of apprehension, I was and am more often looking forward to rising to the occasion in these conversations than in any other large group conversations. One might argue fireside chats and panel discussions are still small group conversations. It is… until you try to include audience participation during these conversations.

But why? Why did it feel more natural to host these fireside chats, panels, and group social experiments yet still struggle in ordinary group conversations?

I thrive on responsibility. The greater my sense of responsibility, the better I do in a conversation. Often times, the roles of each participant in a conversation aren’t clear. Who’s asking the questions? Who’s moderating the conversation? Should there even be someone leading the conversation? If things turn awkward, is it any one person’s fault?

At large, we also see this in group conversations – online and offline. On average, the larger the group, the less each individual feels accountable to contribute meaningfully to the group.

In 1:1 conversations, the responsibility for a great conversation is split 50-50. There’s nowhere to hide. In 3-person groups, it’s 33-33-33. In 4, it’s 25-25-25-25. And so on. At some point, often starting around the 4-person mark, people start feeling that the conversation can go on with or without them. In these fireside chats, it was very clear that it was host and guest’s responsibility for a great conversation. So despite boasting a larger headcount, the responsibility was largely split 50-50.

The lessons

While my goal is to be competitive in the top 0.1% of hosts, it’d be crass to say I started with any level of proficiency. Merely a passion. A passion to learn and help guests be their best selves. And when both guests and the audience walk away from the conversation, both will have felt that was an hour well-spent. As the theme of this blog is building in public, I’d love to share the start of this journey with you.

As such, here are a few lessons I’ve internalized so far:

  1. Do your homework. My goal is always to know my guest(s) better than they know themselves at that point in time – specifically, in my rabbit hole research, finding things that warrant the “How did you know that” response from my guest. I start this process 4 weeks in advance. On average, I spend about 5-10 hours of research per guest, covering:
    • Socials,
    • Content they’ve created (if any),
    • PR/media articles,
    • Podcasts/interviews, and
    • Cross-referencing with mutual friends.
      Most of the above I find across 7-10 pages of Google search results.
  2. Prep for more questions than you need. Usually for every half hour, you need 2-3 good questions, but always prepare 6-7 questions for every half hour as backup.
  3. Some guests prefer having the questions beforehand to prepare; some don’t. I always ask when I invite them and respond accordingly. If they want to see the questions, I send that 1-2 weeks before the date of via email and updating the calendar invite with those questions.
  4. Before every interview, in lieu of the pre-chat, I ask two questions. The goal is for your interview to just be another fireside chat, but that it’ll be THE fireside chat.
    1. Fast forward 2-3 years from now, what would make our fireside chat one of the most, if not the most, memorable fireside chat you would have done up to that point? I don’t need an answer immediately, and you can also tell me right before our conversation next week, but would love to use that as a north star for our talk.
    2. If there are any, what do you not want to talk about? Or are sick of talking about?
  5. You’re running a two-sided marketplace. You want it to be THE fireside chat for both your guest AND your audience.
  6. If, for some reason, I can’t find any good stories or anecdotes that need more context, I ask the guest a third question. Do you have one or two stories that when you told them privately or publicly earned you a standing ovation? Subsequently, rather than the full story, I ask for just a small teaser phrase that would help me transition the conversation into it. And well, I like to be surprised too.
  7. If, for some reason, I can’t think of any specific/good questions, I ask the guest in the “pre-chat”:
    • What’s a question you wish I asked you that’s not in the itinerary? or,
    • What’s a question you wish you were asked, but never asked in previous interviews?
  8. Make the conversation personal and relatable. Be sure to mix in both advice and story anecdotes. Despite all my fireside chats so far circle around a highly technical subject, what provides color is how much the guest is also a human with a life outside of work. Anecdotally, the more relatable a conversation is for the audience, the more likely they are to:
    1. Internalize the advice, or at least consider it, and
    2. Reach out and connect with the guest.
  9. Depth matters more than breadth. It’s better to ask follow-up questions than to hit every question on your agenda. When sharing my questions with guests, I often tell them that “We’ll get to one, two, or some of the questions below, but I imagine we’ll run out of time before we run out of topics.” Anyone can replicate the same superficial questions as you ask. And if you only stick to the initial prompts, your interview will be like 95% of other interviews your guests would have been on. For your audience, while the strategic context is nice, the best takeaways are tactical – most of which are uncovered by follow-up questions.
  10. Know your audience. In order for the advice and anecdotes to be useful and/or entertaining to them, you have to tailor your jokes, stories, and lessons to what would resonate with them the most. You need to find language-audience fit. Equally so, I found it extremely useful to also share the rough audience demographic with the guest beforehand.
  11. Guests who bring their A-game are more important than guests who are just A-listers. While not mutually exclusive, there are too many potential guests out there that won’t take your interview seriously. Either via a lack of prep or treating it as a schedule write-off. It’ll be temporally relevant, but easily forgettable. And when that’s the case, neither the guest nor the audience takes much away from the conversation. Subsequently, it ends up being a waste of time for everything. When I started off, I only invited people that I knew reasonably well.

In closing

In all fairness, this essay could have been two separate pieces. But on a Friday morning watching the sun rise above the horizon with a cup of hot Pu’er tea next to me, it just felt right to share both my takeaways hosting conversations and the backstory that led me to be in that situation. Cheers. And I hope my takeaways supercharge you as much as they’ve supercharged me.

Photo by felipepelaquim 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!

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