Self-Assessment (VC Scout) circa April 2020

vc scout reflection
Photo by Marc-Olivier Jodoin on Unsplash

This year in my resolution, I aim to be more vulnerable by “opening up about the potholes ahead, not just the ones in the rearview mirror”, to quote Jeff Wald. So I’m going to take a step closer to doing so.

Yesterday, my buddy asked me a question that didn’t sit well with me. Not because he was rude, nor because he meant to offend me. In fact, for all intensive purposes, it was entirely innocuous. But it was a question that got me to really question my beliefs and do an impromptu performance review of myself. He asked:

“Out of all the startups you’ve met with and had the chance to source, how many do you regret passing on? Which one or two stands out to you the most?”

I paused for a second. But when words arose to my mouth, my reply was simple. “I don’t think I have any regrets.” As soon as I said that, I immediately felt this gnawing feeling that something was wrong. I’ve always chosen to live life without regrets. And though this may seem to run parallel to my mantra, I knew deep down it wasn’t meant to be.

Luckily, I have had more time to introspect than otherwise during this pandemic. There are 3 possibilities as to why I have no regrets:

  1. It’s too early to tell which ones will be home runs.
  2. I’m not being selective enough, aka I have a flawed investment thesis.
  3. I don’t have the kind of quality deal flow I would like.

While optimistically, I hope it’s the first possibility. After all, it’s only been 3 years since I embarked on this journey. And there probably is a small proportion of startups that will go on to prove me wrong. Realistically, it’s a permutation of the latter two.

Currently, I pick about 40-50% of my inbound (referrals/intros, cold pitch emails/messages, various networking apps) and 100% of my outbound (assuming they get back to me) to have a conversation with. Of those, I usually find 1 out of every 10-15 that I continue the conversation with from an investment standpoint. And out that pool of founders, I usually end up referring 50% of them. Meanwhile, I still try to be helpful in some capacity to everyone else, but only spend about 20% of my time to do so. From a high level, I couldn’t see anything wrong with this funnel. At least, not until my buddy asked me that question.

Sourcing is one of those things that’s easy to pick up, but difficult to master. And now, I feel, not just conceptualize, how steep this learning curve is. There’s a saying in the industry that “luck only gets better with success.” But I have yet to pay the admission fee for my luck to start compounding. So there’s 3 things I have to do:

  1. Reevaluate my current deal flow by analyzing inbound sources and the empirical quality from each (# of startup I’ve introed/total # of startups received from X source).
  2. Hit up the investors I know to help me create a more robust thesis.
  3. Double down on helping my existing deal flow reach their aggressive milestones, until hopefully, the first can hit the ground running.

On the brighter side, it’s great that I’m iterating on this now before I become a checkwriter.


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#unfiltered #5 The Insider “Silicon Valley” TV Show – The Show, plus Thoughts on Eccentric Cold Emails and Crazy Startup Pitches

Tech satire.

I gotta say I love it! Memes. GIFS. YouTube vids. TikTok clips. The whole nine yards.

As a testament to how much I love satirical memes and GIFs, six years ago, when I was testing out “best” cold email methods, as a semi-random A/B test, I emailed half of the folks I reached out to, leading or ending with either a meme or GIF. The list ranged from authors to musicians to researchers to Fortune 500 executives to founders to professional stone skippers. And the results weren’t half bad. Out of 150 odd emails, about a 70% response rate. Half of which resulted in a follow-up exchange by email, call, or in-person. The other half were gracious enough to say time was not on their side.

So when I learned, from the most recent episode of Angel podcast, about David Cowan’s version, I just had to check it out. And I wish I had only discovered it sooner. Made by Director Martin Sweeney, and co-visionaries, Michael Fertik of Reputation.com and David Cowan of Bessemer Venture Partners, bubbleproof is tech hilarity… made by the folks who have tech day jobs. Though I still haven’t watched the 6 seasons and 53 episodes of the Silicon Valley TV series yet. Sorry, friends who keep recommending it.

I just finished episode 5, where they share a snapshot of comedic ideas and pitches – from lipid fuel technology to an Airbnb marketplace for prisoners. And not gonna lie, I had a good chuckle. But when the episode wrapped up and I finally had a chance to think in retrospect, those ideas could have been real pitches in some world out there. When I first started in venture, I met with my share of cancer cures predicated off of a happiness matrix and feces fuel and African gold brokers. In case you’re wondering, yes, I did get pitched those. The last one admittedly should have come through my spam folder.

In these next few weeks, while you’re WFH (work from home), if you’re curious about tech from the ironic perspective of those who live and breathe it every day, check the series out. Only 10 episodes. 7-15 minutes per. (And while you do that, maybe I’ll finally get around to watching Silicon Valley. But no promises.)

As a footnote, Bessemer also has a track record for being forthcoming and intellectually honest. I would highly recommend checking out their anti portfolio, that lists and explains not their biggest wins or losses, but their biggest ‘shoulda-coulda-woulda’s’.


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


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A Small Nuance with Early Growth Numbers

startup growth
Photo by Ales Me on Unsplash

My friend, Rouhin, sent me this post by a rather angry fellow, which he and I both had a good chuckle out of, yesterday about how VC is a scam. In one part about startup growth, the author writes that VCs only care about businesses that double its customer base.

The author’s argument isn’t completely unfounded. And it’s something that’s given the industry as a whole a bad rap. True, growth and scalability are vital to us. That’s how funds make back their capital and then some. With the changing landscape making it harder to discern the signal from the noise, VCs are looking for moonshots. The earlier the stage, the more this ROI multiple matters. Ranging from 100x in capital allocation before the seed stage to 10x when growth capital is involved. But in a more nuanced manner, investors care not just about “doubling”, unilaterally, but the last time a business doubles. We care less if a lemonade stand doubles from 2 to 4 customers, than when a lemonade corporation doubles from 200 to 400 million customers, or rather bottles, for a more accurate metric.

After early startup growth

Of course, in a utopia, no businesses ever plateau in its logistical curve – best described as it nears its total TAM. That’s why businesses past Series B, into growth, start looking into adjacent markets to capitalize on. For example, Reid Hoffman‘s, co-founder of LinkedIn, now investor at Greylock, rule of thumb for breaking down your budget (arguably effort as well) once you reach that stage is:

  • 70% core business
  • 20% business expansion – adjacent markets that your team can tackle with your existing resources/product
  • 10% venture bets – product offerings/features that will benefit your core product in the longer run

And, the goal is to convert venture bets into expansionary projects, and expansionary projects to your core business.

Simply put, as VCs, we care about growth rates after a certain threshold. That threshold varies per firm, per individual. If it’s a consumer app, it could be 1,000 users or 10,000 users. And only after that threshold, do we entertain the Rule of 40, or the minimum growth of 30% MoM. Realistically, most scalable businesses won’t be growing astronomically from D1. (Though if you are, we need to talk!) The J-curve, or hockey stick curve, is what we find most of the time.

The Metrics

In a broader scope, at the early stage, before the critical point, I’m less concerned with you doubling your user base or revenue, but the time it takes for your business to double every single time.

From a strictly acquisition perspective, take day 1 (D1) of your launch as the principal number. Run on a logarithmic base 2 regression, how much time does it take for your users (or revenue) to double? Is your growth factor nearing 1.0, meaning your growth is slowing and your adoption curve is potentially going to plateau?

Growth Factor = Δ(# of new users today)/Δ(# of new users yesterday) > 1.0

Why 1.0? It suggests that you could be nearing an inflection point when your exponential graph start flattening out. Or if you’re already at 1.0 or less, you’re not growing as “exponentially” as you would like, unless you change strategies. Similarly, investors are looking for:

ΔGrowth Factor > 0

Feel to replace the base log function with any other base, as the fundamentals still hold. For example, base 10, if you’re calculating how long it takes you to 10x. Under the same assumptions, you can track your early interest pre-traction, via a waitlist signup, similarly.

While in this new pandemic climate (which we can admittedly also evaluate from a growth standpoint), juggernauts are forced to take a step back and reevaluate their options, including their workforce, providing new opportunities and fresh eyes on the gig economy, future of work, delivery services, telehealth, and more. Stay safe, and stay cracking!


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An Innovator’s Inspiration

Photo by Skye Studios on Unsplash

Creativity.

I have a love-hate relationship with that word. On one hand, I love and seek to learn from creative souls. It’s a trait that I seriously respect in individuals, regardless of industry, profession, or background. On the other hand, it’s rather amorphous. What’s creative to me may not be creative to you. We are bounded by the parameters of our experiences and what we, as individuals, are exposed to.

So, where do innovators draw inspiration?

Over the years, I’ve seen inspiration stem from three main frameworks:

  • The flow from art;
  • Margins;
  • And, what people dislike.

The Flow from Art

I seem to find that the data largely (with a few outliers) points towards the following:

Art precedes science. Science precedes tech. Tech precedes business. Business precedes law.

Art is bounded only by one’s imagination. Science, which draws inspiration from art, is limited by our physical universe and the fundamental laws. And, tech rides on the coattails of science, restricted by the patterns recognized in our universe by scientists before them. Similarly, business can only optimize existing technology. Following suit, regulations and legal practice can only debate and prevent ramifications that have turned from hypothesis to reality.

On one end of the spectrum, fiction has driven innovation on the fundamental, scientific front. Scientists have tried to make the impossible – fiction, superstition, assumptions, and imagination – possible. On the other end, the legal and regulatory space has empirically lagged behind business innovation. From autonomous driving to the shared economy to video games, a regulatory emphasis came only after incidents occurred. I’m a huge proponent of founders becoming self-regulatory. But that is a discussion for another day.

Margins

As Jeff Bezos famously said:

“Your margin is my opportunity.”

In the lens of a businessperson, profits exist on the margins. In a fully saturated market, as we learned in economics class, perfect competition will squeeze out profits. That margin can be delta between human perfection and imperfection. It can be the difference between a naive and sophisticated individual. It can also be the blind spots between a self-awareness and ignorance.

The good news (and bad news?) is that humans aren’t rational. As much as we try to be, we’re not. We repeat the same mistakes. After all, that’s where our favorite stories come from – the fact that we’re imperfect. If we were rational, our friendly neighborhood kid from Queens wouldn’t have to struggle with identity. Or, Skinner, the head chef at Auguste Gusteau’s restaurant, wouldn’t be out to exterminate my favorite rat chef.

From a nonfictional front, if we were rational, gambling, the lottery, therapy, and more wouldn’t exist. In fact, there’s a whole industry that capitalizes on human imperfection – insurance. We choose to reach for that last cookie when we know a healthier diet with less sugar is better for us (I’m guilty as well). We set New Year’s resolutions to work out more, but regress to our couch norm after the first month. Walter Mischel famously conducted The Marshmallow Experiment. When given the option to wait 15 minutes to double their treats, many children opted for immediate gratification.

There would be way fewer founders if they were rational. I mean, come on, the numbers work against them. 90% of startups fail. So, from a VC’s perspective, we have to ask ourselves:

What’s is the underlying notion that makes this product work?

What is that innate theme in human or societal development that won’t disappear anytime soon? What factors produce such a trend? And what margin is it taking advantage of? Uber was made possible with the evolution of smartphone and faster data. As more data were archived online, Google became a reality because of the internet and browser. Two current examples of underlying notions include:

  • Audio, including, but not limited to, podcasts and audiobooks, is the new form of content consumption. Not only does it free up consumers’ hands and eyes up, audio content is often easier to digest. The spoken word has been around millennia, whereas print is fairly new invention. Emotions and sarcasm is often easier to relay via audio than via print. So, what else is possible?
  • With growing consumer sentiment against traditional social media, like Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, there is a shift to social experiences surrounding active participation. Sarah Tavel writes a great piece on this. Examples include Discord, Medium, TikTok, and user-generated content (UGC) in video games, like mods and in-game skins. Many of the traditional social media platforms leave users with a more negative passive experience, where they feel a sense of FOMO (fear of missing out). Through active participation, users can be a part of the conversation, rather than watch from the sidelines.

What do you dislike?

Speaking of negative experiences, aversion is a strong motivating emotion humans have. Like prospect theory illustrates, loss invokes a stronger response than gains. It also happens to be one of the reasons why I probe how obsessed a founder is about a certain problem.

In a recent interview with Andrew “Kappy” Kaplan, host of the podcast, Beyond the Plate, Grant Achatz, legendary chef, talks briefly about how he drew inspiration from his daughter’s dislike of cheese, yet she still ate pizza and grilled cheese sandwiches. Similarly, when his guests at Alinea didn’t like sea urchin, he thought about the ‘why’ and if he could circumvent their aversion by playing with various variables, including iodine concentration.

So, what do you dislike (with a passion)? What about the people around you? And can you figure out a way to change or eliminate that frustration? Take some time through the idea maze.

In closing

Ideas come in all shapes and sizes. Some may be more obvious than others. Some may snowball into a best-selling one. Although I’ve shared the three most common frameworks that I’ve personally generated and seen others find inspiration, it is, of course, not the only ways to exercise your creative muscle. In fact, the first step into being more “creative” is being cognizant about everything around you.

Two years ago, one of my former professors recommended I start ‘idea-journaling’ every day. Since I’ve started, I began noticing more and more stimuli from my surroundings, conversations and frustrations.

It may be a start, but it’s by no means an end. Stay curious.

Photo Credit: Ariel Zhang @yuzhu.zhang

The Different Types of Risk a VC Evaluates

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Founders take on many different types of risk when creating a business. Subsequently, investors constantly put founders and their businesses under scrutiny using risk as a benchmark. In broad terms, in my experience, they largely fall under two categories: execution risk and market risk.

Where I first introduced the dichotomy of market and execution risk in the frame of idea-market fit.

Some Background

Contrary to popular belief, VCs are some of the most risk-averse people that I know. As an investor, the two goals are to:

  1. Take calculated bets, via an investment thesis and diligence;
  2. And de-risk each investment as much as possible.

From private equity to growth equity to venture capital, more and more investors are writing ‘discovery checks.’ Typically, funds write checks that are 2-4% of their fund size. For example, $100M fund usually write $2-4M initial checks. Yet, more and more investors are writing increasingly smaller check sizes (0.1-0.5% fund size). In the $100M fund example, that’s $100-500K checks. This result is a function of FOMO (fear of missing out), as well as a proving grounds for founders before the fund’s partners put in their core dollar. Admittedly, this upstream effect does lead to:

  • Less diligence before checks are written (closing within 48-72 hours on the extreme end, and inevitably, more buyer’s remorse);
  • Less bandwidth allotted per portfolio startup (even less for startups given discovery checks);
  • And, inflated rounds (and therefore, inflated startup valuations).

The Risks

The risks for a startup investor are fairly obvious, and so are the rewards. Effectively, an early-stage investor is betting millions of dollars on a stranger’s claim. But not all risks are the same.

In the eyes of a VC, an execution risk is categorically less risky than a market risk. Furthermore, even within the category of execution, a product risk is usually less risky than a team risk.

Execution Risk

Why are more and more early-stage investors defaulting to enterprise over consumer startups?

Two reasons.

  1. Enterprise startups often run on a SaaS (software-as-service) subscription business model. There will always be recurring revenue, assuming the product makes sense. For an investor, that’s foreseeable ROI.
  2. It’s an execution risk, not a market risk. Often times, an enterprise tech startup is the culmination of existing frustrations prevalent in the respective industry already. And therefore, have reasonably stable distribution channels and go-to-market strategies.

Eric Feng, formerly at Kleiner Perkins, now at Facebook, used Y Combinator’s data set at the end of last year to illustrate the consumer-to-enterprise shift.

Using discovery checks, and playing pre-core business, VCs can evaluate team risk. Between the discovery check and their usual ‘core checks’, VCs can also test their initial hypotheses on their founders.

As a startup grows, especially after realizing product-market fit, market risk becomes more of a product risk. Best illustrated by market share, product risk is when a product fails to meet the expectations of their (target) customers. It can be evaluated via a permutation of key metrics, like unit economics, NPS, retention and churn rate. There is an element of technological risk early on in the startup lifecycle for deep tech ventures, but admittedly, it’s not a vertical I have my finger on the pulse for and can share insight into.

Given that VCs are either ex-operators or have seen a breadth of startup life-cycles, VCs can best use their experience to mitigate a startup’s execution risk.

Market Risk

Market risk requires a prediction of human/market behavior. And unfortunately, the vast majority of investors can predict about the constant evolution of human behavior as well as a founder can. What does that mean? Founders and VCs are walking hand-in-hand to gain market experience. It, quite excitingly, is an innovator’s Rubrik’s cube to solve.

Market risk is frequently attributed to consumer tech products. In an increasing proliferation of consumer startups, consumers have become more expensive to acquire and harder to retain. Distribution channels change frequently and are determined by political, economic, technological, and social trends.

In Closing

Every VC specializes in tackling a certain kind of risk. But founders must quickly adapt, prioritize, and tackle all the above risks at some point in the founding journey. As Reid Hoffman, co-founder of LinkedIn, famously said:

“An entrepreneur is someone who will jump off a cliff and assemble an airplane on the way down.”

Happy hunting!

Three Types of Mentors

Photo by Rohan Makhecha on Unsplash

Christmas 2019 has finally turned its page, and Santa has granted with us with either presents or coal. Then again, coal may not be so bad. In /r/ShowerThoughts (where I regrettably spend maybe a wee bit too much time in), a Redditor shared that with a little pressure, naughty kids can turn their coals into diamonds.

Possibly deserving coal myself, every year, between Christmas and the new year, I regress to a husk of myself and binge the eight Harry Potter movies. Inspired by the Triwizard tournament, Cedric Diggory’s valiant sacrifice, and in a beautiful Socratic debate with some of my friends on Harry’s most impactful mentor, an unlikely hero came up – Mad-Eye Moody.

The Three Types of Witches/Wizards

As a nerd about mentorship, I believe mentorship is equal parts art and science. Every mentor-mentee relationship is unique like the stripes of a zebra or the folds in a human fingerprint. Along your life journey,you’ll have the fortune of being with many different mentors and mentees. Some are fleeting; some are life-long. Yet, there are still general themes among these relationships. More specifically, I’ve observed three kinds of mentorships:

  • Peer,
  • Tactical,
  • And, Veteran.

Peer mentorship comes from someone who is facing a similar problem to you or has as much experience in a respective field as you do. A peer mentor will be down in the dirt with you, rolling in the mud. Together, you aim to learn how to navigate the complexity of the landscape.

Tactical mentorship comes from someone who has two to five years more experience than you in a field you want to grow in. He/she is someone who is able to able to see around the corner before you do. A tactical mentor can provide the nitty-gritty tactics to conquer many of your challenges. Most startup investors, who see a breadth of deals, but only experience some depth, tend to fall under this category.

Veteran mentorship comes from someone who has already attained the level of success that you hope to one day achieve in a given field. Veteran mentors can help you define your true north, providing both vision and scope. Unfortunately, because it’s been a few since they’ve tackled a similar scope of a problem, they won’t be able to provide the ABCs for you.

Magic and Mentorship

Like the Triwizard Maze, the world around us is always changing, posing new obstacles and surprising us with new challenges. Though not frequently, the variables and parameters for our success will always be changing. Our peer mentors, like Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour, and Viktor Krum, are our companions to conquer the seemingly impossible. Our tactical mentors, like those who have been chosen by the Goblet before, help us to make the right judgment at each crossroads. Our veteran mentors, like Mad-Eye and Dumbledore, are our lumos to see a bigger picture. All of them will help us find the signal in the noise. More importantly, are the supporting force that have, is, and will be pushing us forward towards our own Triwizard Cup.

A Little Perspective on Intuition

I was chatting with an artistic buddy of mine about the parallels between craftsmanship and early-stage investing, and the more we dove into it, the more fascinating it became. Very similarly, Ash Fontana of Zetta Venture Partners provides a fresh perspective in an episode, specifically, at the 28:45 mark, on The Twenty Minute VC. But one thing, in our conversation, stood out to me in particular – where, somehow, I never put two and two together – intuition.

As you might’ve noticed on this blog already, I’m obsessed with intuition. I’ve asked many an investor to try to break down their intuition, or unconscious competence, hoping to learn from them in tandem with entrepreneurs I have met over these days. I’ve also asked experts from various fields – music, cinematography, culinary, sports, politics, and more – about their various forms of muscle memory. And my conversation with my buddy reminded me of a short journal entry I wrote over a decade ago, about the first person who described intuition to me:

It was late that summer night. The sun had already set, and the crickets had come out center stage in tonight’s feature performance. The slow chorus of whirring was accompanied by the occasional electrical spasms of the 20th century street lamps right outside the studio.

I was helping my teacher pack up the last of his art supplies and move it to the rusty, old shed in his backyard. As I put all the brushes and paints in their respective shelves, I couldn’t help, but notice an array of canvases lying in the left corner. As my curiosity ended up getting the better of me, it turned out to be a series of beautiful and complex surreal, abstract, and Chinese watercolors – quite the contrast to his usual realistic style.

“What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” I replied, as if on autopilot.

He paused for a second.

“David, do you know what the toughest thing to draw is?”

“Maybe this,” gesturing at the canvases I was flipping through like a Rolodex. “Oh! And monsters.”

“I don’t think so,” shaking his head, “it’s humans.”

I couldn’t help but pop my favorite question, as a 9-year old, “Why?”

” ‘Cause we see them every day – on the streets and at home, angry and calm, wrinkled and not, and from the day we’re born till the day we die. So, the smallest of deviations from what we’re familiar with is recognizable, not just to an artist, but any person. The average person may not always know why and how it doesn’t look like the people they’re used to seeing, but they will always be able to tell the difference, before you have a chance to blink.”

The Pain of Entrepreneurship

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I was chatting with an founder-investor last Friday about the complexities of the founder-idea and the investor-founder discovery process. Eventually, our conversation arrived at the “idea maze“, coined by Balaji Srinivasan – which describes how one’s past life experiences position her/him best to tackle a new problem. And it bled into how great investors, or people who have a track record for backing entrepreneurs who change the world, differentiate good founders from great founders. And I turned the question many of my friends, who are interested in angel and early-stage investing, have asked me to her:

How can one, without necessarily having gone through the entire entrepreneurial experience, better understand and empathize with the founder journey?

It’s a question I have tried to resolve myself, since I’ve only experienced the two extremes of building a startup – at its conception till product-market fit and right before an acquisition – and at two different ventures. I’ve heard many answers over the years:

  • Read books or listen to podcasts about startups,
  • Chat with founders,
  • Shadow them for a month or more,
  • Advise them at their early stages,
  • Join an angel group to hold office hours for them,
  • And, start your own business…

…. each from at least ten different sources. But she said something that I have never thought of before. Live with an entrepreneur.

A simple answer, yes. But a spectacularly profound one, nonetheless. I’ve had the fortune of living with an aspiring e-sports athlete, an aspiring Korean pop star, and a property manager. In all three cases, I learned, even passively, about the lifestyle of each – their wins, their stressors, even how meticulous they think about their apparel for the day, but most importantly, how hard they each worked to realize their dream. It’s not something any interview, book, podcast, blog post, and even shadowing experience can teach you.

I’ve been taught since I was a kid in elementary school to work smart, not hard, or its better cousin: work smart and hard. But in both mantras, working hard is always overshadowed by working smart. In fact, over time, I learned it wasn’t just me. Media portrays society’s hardest workers in biased, unflattering light. I remember watching a bunch of movies and TV shows as a kid where the janitor or the bus driver, playing a side character, is either a 300-pound man or an old spindly soul with hollowed eyes. Mike Rowe, host of one of my favorite childhood TV shows, Dirty Jobs, is definitely more illustrious on this stigma than I am, which he explains in his 2009 TED talk. In Silicon Valley, the occupation of being an entrepreneur isn’t too different. Yes, there’s the supposed glamour of being the next Mark Zuckerberg or Steve Jobs. But whether it’s Shikhar Ghosh‘s study that 75% of startups fail, or the 90% or 95% many others reference, the truth is the numbers work against you. Moreover, unless you’re “venture-backed”, when people see “entrepreneur” on your resume, many think “unemployed”.

Yet, I’ve realized people with the entrepreneurial spirit are some of the hardest working individuals I’ve ever met, given that there are still many who seek the title over the commitment – what I’ve come to call “wantrapreneurs.” None of my apartment-mates ever called themselves an entrepreneur or a founder, but in every sense, each of them was and is the definition of a hard worker, a hustler, and an entrepreneur. They were scrappy. They were ambitious. Or like I mentioned in my post last week, they were obsessed. They’ve navigated their own idea mazes to set themselves up for success. For example, one of my suitemates saw the value of stacking chairs every week during work study and turned it into efficient inventory management and an opportunity to get in front of the music director without an official audition. Many of the entrepreneurs around me I respect the most never had the B-school education and weren’t classically trained in the Porter’s Five Forces or the SWOT analysis. A few even dropped out of school, but they all have the capacity to work hard, then synthesize the data around them. The commitment to work hard prefaces the facility to find a shortcut. One founder, to keep his business afloat, biked up and down the hills of San Francisco delivering Uber Eats, since he couldn’t afford a car and its insurance plan. Another went to his dream client’s headquarters every day at 9AM for two months straight to secure a meeting, and subsequently, a contract. A third flew back to meet with clients that were about to bail on his startup, despite still not having recovered from four fractures in his vertebrae, leaving him paralyzed below the chest.

I’m not saying my apartment-mates or the founders aren’t smart. In fact, they’re some of the smartest folks I know, but it’s their constant willingness to get their hands dirty that has my utmost respect. Though I’ve lived with my apartment-mates, I’ve never lived with any founders, but I can only imagine the depth of understanding and empathy one would have by being in such close proximity. And in doing so, how one can appreciate the founder journey beyond the facts, and experience the emotional pain points as well.

Obsession is Human Error at its Finest

Photo by Ferenc Horvath on Unsplash

When I first entered venture, I asked a number of VCs:

How do you tell the difference between a good startup and a great startup?

The answer I received from multiple investors was: intuition, which, admittedly, confounded me to no ends. Maybe it is true, that it is intuition, especially after seeing such a large sample size of startups over their careers – that in a heartbeat, they can reasonably tell the difference between a good and a great one. But I didn’t have that sample size. In fact I had a very small, and very biased sample to extrapolate from. The best investors out there were, quite frankly, unconsciously competent, but I was very aware that I was and am consciously incompetent, seeking competency.

So I figured, with enough data points in my sample, as econometrics has taught me through the law of large numbers, eventually I’ll have a sample that’s more or less representative of the population. So, for the past three years, I met with 10-15 tech entrepreneurs every week – self-proclaimed, venture-backed, and anyone in between – in an effort to figure out what intuition as an investor meant. What I found, pre-product-market fit and even pre-unit economics, is that it all stems from what many VCs and angel investors call ‘passion’, or rather what I like to call: obsession.

Why obsession? While I do briefly explain it in my investment thesis, it is a proxy for grit and domain expertise of a founder or founding team, which is strongly correlated with the growth potential of a venture. Obsession keeps you up at night; passion keeps you active during the day. Obsession is a lifestyle; passion is a hobby. Through chatting and tracking various founders and startups at various points in their founding journey – from idea to scale to exit, here are the three telltale signs I found of obsession:

  • Honesty,
  • Details,
  • And a personal vendetta.

Honesty

What do you know? What don’t you know?

The founder(s) are radically honest. They’re readily willing to admit what they know and what they don’t, as well as how they plan to figure out what they don’t. The more obsessed you are, the more you realize there are more questions than answers. What kind of questions do the founders ask themselves? How are they prioritizing and allocating their time?

Entrepreneurship has never been a solo sport, and every founding team could always use as much help as they can get. The only way investors, advisors, and a company board can help is if they know what part needs help. Unfortunately, in the Bay Area, there’s a heavy aura of “fake it till you make it” that’s not only true for founders and investors, myself included at one point in time, but professionals across the board, like a duck swimming across a lake, furiously paddling beneath the surface of the water, but appearing calm and collected above. This facade led to stress, anxiety, and eventually a cycle of depression for many brilliant folks out there, which has only recently gained some awareness in the public eye. Mental health, especially founders’ mental health, is one of the areas I’m tracking pretty closely, in diligence, scouting, and when hosting peer mentorship circles. I don’t require founders to know everything about starting a business or tackling a market risk, nor do I expect them to know everything. All I require is the conviction to solve the seemingly unsolvable, and the honesty to admit it and work together to solve it.

Details

What are your customers telling you?

Just as important as the questions founders ask themselves are the answers they’ve found so far. What have they tested? What are they testing? What will they do if they get X result? Y result? And the customers feel it all. What is resonating with their customers – explicitly and implicitly? What isn’t? And how granular can the founders go?

Each action taken is purposeful and holds some kind of predicted value. These founders are obsessed with details – even the ones that aren’t sexy or won’t wow at face value, yet crucial to the survival and growth of their business. For example, Rahul Vohra, CEO of Superhuman, the world’s fastest email client, takes his feedback surveys extremely seriously. While he goes more in depth in this brilliant podcast episode on 20-Minute VC, he’s able to dissect four questions to be able to assess product-market fit and strategic offerings of features to his product. From a simple question, “How would you feel if you could no longer use Superhuman?”, if 40% or more say ‘Very Disappointed” (out of three options: Very Disappointed, Somewhat Disappointed, and Not Disappointed), then he would have achieved initial product-market fit. Whereas most companies track lagging indicators of interest, like NPS scores, where customers would have made their decision by the time they take the survey, Rahul is obsessed with leading indicators, before customers make their “decision”.

Personal Vendetta

What was your “Eureka!” moment?

Building a business starts with the self, and ends with others. Is it their personal problem? Are they taking revenge on the scar tissue they’ve grown from being bogged down by this problem? Or maybe it’s a problem that means a great deal to someone who means a great deal to them?

I’m always incredibly curious as to why someone would want to be an entrepreneur. It seems to go against the very psychological grain of being a human. Founders are risking the food on the dinner table, sleep, a social life, money, years worth of opportunity costs, sanity, and much much more. Effectively, they’re taking Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs and flipping it on its head. So I’m always dying to know what compels them to push forward. As one of my mentors back in college once asked me: “What is your selfish motivation?”

Behind all of the fancy-shmancy market maps and industry/trend analysis, where markets start with B as in billion (and one day, we’ll see more markets that start with T as in trillion), or, in 2017, it was crypto-this or blockchain-that, what drives these founders? Don’t get me wrong. All the afore-mentioned analysis is on the forefront of my mind when I look into a startup. What underlying infrastructure or social trend makes this product/service inevitable? How antiquated and/or fragmented is the knowledge or resource acquisition process in this targeted industry? But the truth is, more often than not, I see multiple ventures tackling the same space with almost the same solution. So who’s the winner? In my opinion, the one who’s more obsessed. From the lens of essentialism, instead of “How much do you value this opportunity?”, I’m more interested in “How much would you sacrifice to obtain this opportunity?” Though I’m not looking for a blood ritual, nor do I want to ever get involved in one, I’m looking for founders’ willingness to pursue this full-time over part-time and their resourcefulness (on a limited budget) to get shit done, like when Brian and the team at Airbnb took to photographing their first few living spaces or packing each box of Obama O’s themselves.

And you know you have a winning story to my initial “Eureka!” question when you have the full, undivided attention longer than the first minute of people who are notorious for having low attention spans. A story about a personal vendetta is compelling, inspiring, and most importantly, contagious. And I’ll know this when my eyes start sparkling just like the founders. I may not drop everything in my life and tackle this new dilemma full-time, but I’d be damned if I don’t make sure that founder’s dream becomes a reality.

Final Thoughts

At the end of the day, obsession is inefficient – a human element artificial intelligence has yet to be able to replicate. It’s scrappy. It’s doubling down on things that may not succeed. As the saying goes, you’re wrong until you’re right. But damn, it is magnetic. After all, obsession is human error, at its finest.

Investing in Mentorship

In theory, there’s nothing wrong with seeking mentorship to gain experience or offering mentorship to give experience. In fact, advice is still something I seek, as I’m still on the green side in the larger landscape. In reality, every person only has 24 hours in a day and limited bandwidth, which inhibit the quantity and quality of mentorship even if the mentor wants to. Providing mentorship, after all, requires mentors to accept the opportunity cost to do something else they could be doing, and prioritize the learning exchange. I characterize mentorship into two categories: passive and active. Passive mentorship is where one purely obtains advice from a mentor, whereas active mentorship is where advice is coupled with hands-on learning experience.

Mentorship is often seen as a huge time commitment, which is why when asked to provide mentorship, many potential mentors, who have yet to commit a large chunk of their schedule to advisorship, turn it down, as soon as they get the request. Having led three mentorship programs across two organizations, as well as hosting founder brunches and brunches with strangers for peer mentorship, here’s why most prospecting mentees are turned down: ensuring value and capping the mentor’s own downside.

Ensuring Value

When mentors are approached, the two most frequent asks are: “Can you be my mentor?” and “What can I help you with?

The former, “Can you be my mentor?“, often scares many mentors away. Just the word ‘mentor’ or ‘mentorship’ incites the connotation that the mentee is setting a high bar of attention expectation, which in undefined with no clear asymptote or time horizon, in sight. Something I learned over the years, unless I am the one hosting a mentorship program, is that the best mentor-mentee relationships, never mention the word ‘mentorship’, at least not in the first few exchanges. The question itself is nebulous in nature. The nebulosity leaves the mentor needing to expend their creativity to guess what mentees would like to learn. A better approach would be to have a targeted question detailing exactly what you want to learn, with evidence of putting in work to resolve the question beforehand.

Here’s a format I personally use when reaching out for advice, or for passive mentorship:

“I’ve been obsessed about X recently, and have tried out Y and Z, to produce Y’ and Z’ results (where I expected Y* and Z*). As someone I deeply respect in X industry and whose insights I have used in trying out Y and Z, what might I be misunderstanding or should have done differently? If I caught you at a bad time of the year, is there someone or some literature you can point me to, to help me achieve the desired result?”

The latter question, “What can I help with?“, unfortunately, is evidence that the prospecting mentee has not done their diligence. Take for example, helping a VC. There are really only five ways to help:

  • Deal flow – amazing startups that fit the partner/fund’s investment thesis
  • Sales/BD intros – firms that are buying, partnering, or co-investing into the fund’s portfolio
  • Portfolio support – helping the fund’s existing portfolio startups with their various impending dilemmas
  • Follow-ons – downstream investors for the fund’s portfolio
  • LP (limited partner) intros – high net-worth individuals or groups who may fund a VC’s next fund

In knowing one’s specific skill set and network, ideally, a prospecting mentee can help where his/her strengths lie. This is also true on a broader scale, when offering help to friends, acquaintances, and just people who need help, knowing what kind of help they need and when they need it means the world to those in need. After all, a friend in need is a friend indeed.

Capping the Downside

Most mentors, either explicitly or implicitly, want to ensure the experience is valuable and productive to the mentee, leaving the upside to be essentially limitless – for both the mentor and mentee. Having a set of clear measurable goals, one, defines the time horizon, and ,two, helps the mentor understand what is valuable to the mentee. A good reference point are how companies structure KPIs, or key performance indicators. At the same time, clear, measurable goals helps the mentor cap their maximum downside, so the relationship won’t end up becoming a slippery slope. Consider what the mentor has to risk to help the mentee: time, attention, money, reputation, opportunity cost, “knowledge IP”, and so on.

Per the format I use as I mentioned before, it caps the maximum time investment a passive mentor needs to provide to the length of time it takes to answer one question. Or if they’re short on time, I have recognized that they’re busy, and have given them an easier ‘out’ to the question.

In closing

This piece isn’t meant to disincentivize people from seeking help and mentorship, but rather to provide another perspective to those of us, including my younger self, who have yet to figure out their own approach to mentorship or are looking to explore other methods or just to peer into my mental calculus. Mentorship, at the end of the day is an investment – an attention investment. As with all investments, the goal is to lose little, win big – or how we like to say in VC, “de-risk the investment.” The upside, or if I’m continuing on this VC analogy, the return on investment, or ROI, knows no bounds. Even for the mentor, who at first glance, may seem to be losing more than winning, gains the satisfaction and pride of paying it forward, a new friend, and leadership skills, even before what the future may realize.

After all, some of the greatest figures in history and in our world today grew from mentorship: Socrates to Plato, Ralph Waldo Emerson to Henry David Thoreau, Ed Roberts to Bill Gates, Maya Angelou to Oprah Winfrey, Sire Freddie Laker to Richard Branson, Bill Campbell to Steve Jobs, Steve Jobs to Mark Zuckerberg, and the list goes on and on. As many studies have shown, and of course, with a few caveats, happiness can be achieved by spending money on others. In this case, that money is time and attention.