People seem to love origin stories – both in theatre and in life.
“How did it all start?”
“How did you get into this career?”
Or…
“How did you meet your wife/husband?”
And well, I can’t say I’m one to push back on that.
There’s something truly magical about “Once upon a time…”. And I’m no stranger to fairy tales. Growing up, I was largely influenced by older female cousins and family friends. As soon as our parents left to their wine-sipping adult gossip around a table of blackjack, my cousins and older female friends would drag us to watch their favorite Disney movies on the VCR, namely princess movies. I’m not exaggerating when I say I’ve seen Beauty and the Beast more than 100 times or Cinderella more than 50 times. In fact, my friends in elementary school would talk about their favorite movies – Transformers, LEGO Bionicles, Peter Pan, and Tarzan. Yet, mine was Disney’s 1998 Mulan.
And they all started with “Once upon a time…”
So, it was no surprise when friends, colleagues, and then strangers started asking me:
“How/when/why did you start hosting social experiments?”
I hear so many founders in their pitch decks say: As soon as they raise funding, [blank] will happen. [blank] could be: hiring that CTO or lead developer or an operations lead, getting to X0,000 users, or going “all in” on growth (often heard as Facebook and/or Google ads). That line by itself really doesn’t mean much. So I always follow up, with: “How do you plan to achieve [blank] milestone after you extend your runway/receive venture backing?”
Then this is when I start thinking, “Oh no!”, especially as soon as I hear, after I partner with X investor, they will help me do Y, or worse, they will do Y for me.
And I’m not alone. So, what signals does that response give investors?
Alright, Investor A, I’m planning for you to do the legwork for growing my business.
I don’t know what I’m doing, but please invest in my naivety.
I haven’t thought about that problem/milestone at all, and I’ll worry about it when I get there. So, take a big risk in me.
Why I love athletes, chefs and veterans
There is no white knight in shining armor when you’re raising a round.
This is the reason I love athletes. And for that matter, veterans and chefs, too. Each of them chose a career where they are forced to deal with adversity. Personally and collectively. To a level, most of us might call inhuman. While I’m sure I’ve missed many other industries that also sponsor such arduous growth, and yes, I know I’m generalizing here, these 3 industries seem to have a higher batting average of producing individuals who can find the internal grit to overcome almost any obstacle.
“They’ve trained themselves to be better at doing things that are hard.”
While he wasn’t necessarily talking about professional athletes, chefs, or veterans, the same is true. The people who are better than you at doing something don’t have it any easier than you do. Rather, they’ve developed a system, or mental model, that helps them conquer extremely difficult obstacles. And because it’s become muscle memory for them, it seems easier for them to accomplish these goals. At the same time, we should never discount their blood, sweat, and tears, or what some of my colleagues call scar tissue, just because we cannot see them. It’s why we in venture call startups “10-year overnight successes“.
To founders
Bringing it back full circle, a great founder (as opposed to a good or okay founder) never completely relies on an external source for the growth of their company. By the same token, a great founder also never blames the failure of their startup because of an external source. A great founder – regardless of the business’s success or failure – learns quickly to not only repeat the same mistake again, but also develop insights and skills to push their business forward. While you as the founder isn’t required to be the best in the world of a particular skill, you will need to practice and accel at it until you can find the best in the world. But to hire the best in the world, you also have to be reasonably literate in the field to differentiate the best from the second best.
The solution
Here’s what investors are looking for instead:
We’ve thought about the problem. We’ve A/B tested with these 3 strategies (and why we chose each strategy). Numbers-wise, Strategy B proves to: (a) have the most traction, and (b) is most closely aligned with our core metric – revenue.
Here are the 2-3 core milestones we plan to hit once we get this injection of capital. And we will do what it takes to get there. In order to get there, we’ve thought about hiring an expert in operational efficiency and purchasing these 5 tools to help us hit these milestones. For the former, here’s who we’ve talked to, why we think they’re a perfect fit, and what each of their responses are so far. For the latter, each tool in this short list can help us save X amount of time and Y amount of burn. Do you think we’re approaching these goals in an optimal way?
Note: The signal you’re giving here is that you and your team are results-/goals-oriented, while the process of getting to those goals are fluid and stress-tested.
In both cases, you’re showing your potential investors that you’ve done your homework already (versus a Hail Mary). But at the end of the day, you are open and willing to entertain their suggestions, which, ideally, come with years of experience in operating and/or advising other founders who have gone through a similar journey.
So, stay curious out there! Always question the seemingly unquestionable!
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!
I’ve been debating for the longest time whether I should put out this post or not. Not only does it require me to “open up about the potholes“, as Jeff Wald puts it, I’m not sure how I should be feeling. Or maybe I do, but I’m just not willing to admit it to myself.
Last week, I read Brad Feld‘s post, “Are You At Your Best Right Now?“. And it was the final push that gave me the courage to write this. After all, this wouldn’t be a member of the #unfiltered series if I wasn’t sharing my raw thoughts.
Am I at my best right now?
I’ve had the long standing belief that if I’m not making any new mistakes, then I’m not taking risks.
And if I’m not taking risks, I’m not improving.
For the past 6 months of quarantine, I haven’t made any mistakes… neither ones I’m proud of nor severely regret. Half of which I believe most people could do without. Though I don’t set myself up for mistakes that I think are foolhardy from the get-go, I am not learning if I don’t make any mistakes at all. I’m not talking about mistakes that I make without a second thought of regret. Like drinking 7 cups of water today, rather than 8. Or forgetting to put up the toilet seat. Or a grammatical error in my writing.
I’m talking about mistakes that have defined, define, and will define my life’s trajectory. Inflection points that draw our life’s story on a once blank canvas.
My pursuit of ‘the best’ prior
In my first two years of college, I made many mistakes as an operator, as a friend, and to my promises. I over-promised and under-delivered. I let a friend I really respected and cared for down. To the organizations I was lucky to be a part of, I juggled too many things at once, thinking multi-tasking was an attribute of pride and prestige.
In my third year of college, I took networking to a new level. And along the way, burned bridges in my persistence and lack of awareness.
In my fourth year, drained from the relentless ego contest, I took a step back to reflect and be more candid than I gave myself the liberty to previously. In my pursuit of honesty, once again but in a different context, I didn’t consider the impact of my words with a handful of friends.
In graduating, I took a risk to not accept the offers I had on the table – some of which I know people would fight for. I chose a path that I felt I wouldn’t regret in the then amazing upside of the economy.
In the years following, I made bets to be at places, to be with people, and to learn from them that I had doubts other platforms would provide. In retrospect, some more foolish than others. Placing trust and hope that some of my friends who knew considered in ill faith.
But every time I learned.
I became a stronger person than when I went in.
Now
These days when friends, colleagues, and strangers ask “How are you doing?” or “How have you been?”, I’ve become my own worst nightmare.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m okay.”
While I’m not lying, I hate myself the moment I utter those words. First how much it’s become a knee jerk reaction. But secondly, and more importantly, how much hasn’t changed since the pandemic.
Like many of my friends and colleagues, and I’m sure, many more on this planet, I had 2020 plans. Plans to take risks and make mistakes. Unfortunately, for one reason or another, many of them have been put on a stalemate. At the same time, I know many of my friends aren’t doing well. From breakups to layoffs to the impending doom of deportation to deaths in the family, I feel like I should be the last person to complain.
In closing
I want to be clear. I’m not looking for pity here. But I want you to know. It’s okay. You’re not alone. While we all are feeling a different magnitude of emotions now, you’re not alone, when “I’m okay” belies what we’re all feeling right now. I can’t speak for others, but I am not at my best right now.
If you need someone to talk to or just someone to listen, I’m here.
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost).Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
I recently tuned into, at the time of writing this post, Tim Ferriss’ third most recent podcast episode, interviewing Rabbi Sacks. Although I’m a regular listener to the show, I wasn’t expecting much. I neither have a history of being religious nor spiritual – merely peripheral curiosity. Yet, I don’t hesitate for one second to say: It is, by far, one of the most insightful and enlightening podcast episodes I’ve heard in 2020. So, if you have a spare 1.5 hours, I highly recommend it, especially if you’re looking for a perspective shift on:
Leadership,
Seeking peer approval,
What a single cold “call”/visit could get you,
And the need for “cultural climate change” in the understanding between the balance of “I” and “we”.
And Rabbi Sacks masterfully weaves these concepts together. While my reaction will never do his insights justice, two other thoughts, each paired with their own story, I had to double click on:
“Good leaders create followers, great leaders create leaders.”
“What happens when you’re in a situation in which you have done something that has generated widespread disapproval? How do you deal with that?
“Win the respect of the people you respect.”
And I digress.
The Bubble
I’ve lived my entire life so far in the Bay Area, barring a few vacations and excursions here and there. I was born here. I went through 12 years of grade school here. 13 if you count kindergarten. And though I had the option of leaving the Bay for college, I ended up choosing a school here as well. Truth be told, I might as well have “Made in the Bay” stamped on my forehead.
I live in a bubble. But I know I breathe in one. Not just geographically, but educationally, racially, sexually, socioeconomically, and so on.
Being a shy introvert pre-adulthood didn’t help with broadening my perspective on life either. I still remember the days in high school when I dreaded the teacher calling on me. Clammy palms, cold sweat, rigid spine. I would never vocally question disagreement. Equally, I would rather be a people pleaser than cause what I deemed to be unnecessary friction. I was a seafood hors d’ouevres of perturbation.
So, by inspiration from a mentor, I took actionable steps to conquer my own demons. Meet one new person you’re extremely excited to meet every single week for a year.
While I still carry the artifacts of myself yesterday, learning to balance myself between the person I thought and think I needed to become and the person I was, I began my journey 6 years ago.
The Pop in the Bubble
I’d be fronting if I said I wasn’t scared shitless when I began. Though I don’t think everyone in the world has this dilemma, I’m confident I am not alone. I had and have all these scenarios playing in my head. A bunch of ‘what-ifs’. What if they think I’m too nosy? What if they don’t have time to respond? Or what if they hate me for bothering them?
They say it gets better over time. And they’re not wrong. But I still have that lingering, gnawing feeling whenever I click send or put myself out there. While, over the years, the fears never fully dissipated, I’ve learned to tango with discomfort. In the words of my mentor who inspired my journey:
“You’re never as good as they say you are, but you’re also not as bad as they say you are. And hell, you can’t even be bad if they don’t even know who you are.”
… which I believe he drew inspiration from Lou Holtz. Shortly after, I clicked the “Send” button at the bottom of my first ‘curiosity’ email. After all, like he said, what’s the worst that can happen? Getting ignored. And as such, I would be no better nor worse off than I was and am in that cross section in time. With that assurance, it eventually led me to find my cold email “template” and hosting social experiments, like Brunches with Strangers.
The Where
Over the past few weeks, a few new people asked me: “Where do you find these people to reach out to?” Although it’s not the first and I assume certainly not the last, I thought I’d share in the form of this post as a possible inspiration for how we can grow, if I were to paraphrase Rabbi Sacks.
While I don’t characterize myself as a voracious reader, I allot time every day and have found many of my Senseis in the form of literature and discourse – online and offline, printed and taped, and in-person and remote. Including:
Books
Online articles/press releases
Newsletters
YouTube videos
Movies
Podcasts
Webinars/fireside chats
Textbooks
And, other people
One level deeper
To look beyond my own horizon, I tune into Pocket‘s Discover tab, or a platform I’ve recently fallen in love with, Readocracy. You can check out what online reading I’ve been up to lately on my Readocracy profile. And I can’t wait, when I can start tracking the books I read and the podcasts I listen to on there. I’m also fortunate enough to have friends who read, write, listen, and socialize with different social and professional circles than I do and am in. And as I meet more people, the spectrum of topics and interests snowball upon each other, as we help each other see new perspectives – some of which we never thought were possible.
Admittedly, where I find who to reach out to is, by no means, special or esoteric. In topics, I look into ones I’m genuinely interested in, in that moment and predictably beyond, even if it’s only a month or two, as promiscuous as I might be for many. In my short phases of promiscuity, I nevertheless take deep dives. Deep, yet often, not long. At the same time, I have a small handful of evergreen interests, like:
The art and science of building relationships,
The art of creating irreplaceable memories,
Psychology and mental models,
Swimming and intense athleticism,
Art as a multi-faceted definition,
Startups,
Technology and what lies at its frontier,
The final frontier – outer space and its cosmological inhabitants,
And the future.
In people, I look for two things:
Inflection points in their life. Oxymorons/ironies. Overt and covert contradictions.
If I were to make assumptions given their initial attributes (i.e. education, age, gender, geography, career, life choices/circumstances, etc.), would I have been able to predict where they are now?
Of course, in making these assumptions, it is also my responsibility to be aware and to tread carefully where I should. Unfortunately, ignorance is not an excuse. If I’m unsure, I err on the side of caution.
Deep intellectual curiosity and passion. Whom I call the passionately curious and the curiously passionate.
In closing
While I’m prone to talking too much at times, during these moments, it is my duty and the highest form of respect I can offer, to listen. If I were to take it from a selfish note, I learn so much more when I listen. And in actively listening, and actively checking my biases, to respond with thoughtful questions.
So, I’ll close on more thing Rabbi Sacks said in his recent interview with Tim Ferriss:
“Safe space means that courteous discipline of respectful listening.”
#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!
One of my favorite thought exercises to do when I meet with founders who have reached the A- and B-stages (or beyond) is:
“What will his/her company look like if he/she is no longer there?”
The Preface
While the question looks like one that’s designed to replace the founder(s), my intention is everything but that. Rather, I ask myself that because I want to put perspective as to how the founder(s) have empowered their team to do more than they could independently. Where the collective whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Have the founders built something that is greater than themselves? And is each team member self-motivated to pursue the mission and vision?
“Well, Mr. President,” the janitor responded, “I’m helping put a man on the moon.”
From the astronaut who was to go into space to the janitor cleaning the halls of NASAs space center, each and every one had the same fulfilling purpose that they were doing something greater than themselves.
And if the CEO is able to do that, their potential to inspire even more and build a greater company is in sight. Can he/she scale him/herself? And in doing so, scale the company past product-market fit (PMF)?
For the purpose of this post, I’ll take scale from a culture, hiring, operating, and product perspective, though there are much more than just the above when it comes to scale. Answering the questions, as a founder:
How do you expand your audience?
How do you build a team to do so?
And, how do you scale yourself?
And to do so, I’ll borrow the insights of 10 people who have more miles on their odometer than I do.
While many of these lessons are applicable even in the later stages of growth, I want to preface that these insights are largely for founders just starting to scale. When you’ve just gone from zero to one, and are now beginning to look towards infinity.
The TL;DR
Build a (controversial) shocking culture.
Hire intentionally.
Retaining talent requires trust.
Build and follow an operating philosophy.
Create, hold, and share excitement.
Align calendars.
Upgrade adjacent users as your next beachhead.
Capture adoption by changing only 1 variable per user segment.
The other day, I saw a post on r/venturecapital (and now you know what my Reddit handle is) asking how prospect theory relates to venture capital. Admittedly, quite thought-provoking! Ever since college, I’ve been a huge behavioral economics buff – how human psychology dictates market motions. And, prospect theory happens to fall in that category.
First developed by Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky, prospect theory is a behavioral model that says humans are naturally loss-averse. Oh, you might know the former Nobel Prize bugger from authoring Thinking, Fast and Slow, a book I highly recommend if you’re curious about the intricacies of how our brain understands the data around us. Simply put, we react stronger to losing something than when we gain something.
*As you can see, this graph is safe for family-friendly programming
For example, I’m more likely to feel the loss after losing my $1500 cellphone than the ephemeral gain of winning a grand and a half in the lottery. On one end, you’re probably thinking that makes sense. On the other end, you’re probably calling me a loser for spending so much on a cellphone. Well, joke’s on you. I got my phone for $250 on Black Friday. But I digress. In another instance, if you look at kids, they’re more likely to throw a tantrum if you take away a marshmallow on their plate than give you a hug for giving them an extra marshmallow.
Similarly…
As you might expect, prospect theory informs many of my investing/sourcing decisions, including:
So, you’re probably now thinking: “Gimme the deets.”
While prospect theory suggests people typically weigh the impact of their losses more than they so their wins, VCs are humans at the end of the day. Just like your amateur naive stock trader will hold on to losses, and sell their wins, many VCs tend to do the same, as a reactionary measure.
It’s counterintuitive. But the name of the game in early-stage investing is not about how many losses you’ve sustained (especially when 7 out of every 10 go out of business, 2-3 break even, and hopefully 1 makes it), but about the magnitude of the wins an investor makes.
For instance, if you’ve invested in 100 companies, and 99 go out of business, and 1 makes 200x, you just doubled your fund. Of course, a successful fund typically makes 3-5x cash on cash multiple. Just our fancy way of saying your fund returns $3-5 for every dollar invested by a limited partner (LP). Although there are some nuances, many VC investors use cash on cash and multiple on invested capital (MOIC) quite interchangeably.
Guess for you to be counted as a successful investor, that one investment’s gotta go to 300x, at the minimum. In reality, you’re probably not going to have just one investment perform. Especially if you’re in the top quartile of VCs out there. You’re looking at a ~2.5% unicorn rate. So 2-3 investments of your 100 investments should be valued at over a billion dollars. Unless you’re Chris Sacca, who I hear returned 250x cash on cash for his first $8.4M seed fund, which included the likes of Uber, Twitter, and Instagram.
Of course, larger funds are harder to return. It’s easier to return a $10M fund than a $1B, much less a $100B. While I’m not supporting the only $100B vehicle known to date, the losses that fund sustained made the front page news a while back. And though by monetary value, they lost more than most other funds out there. Percentage-wise, they’re not alone. But in the public and media’s eyes, their losses are weighted more heavily than smaller funds.
In closing/Disclaimer
But hey, I’m no registered investment advisor. If you’re looking for which specific startups to invest in, please do consult with a professional. While I may share what startups have attracted my attention here and there, my thoughts are just my own thoughts. And, this post is merely me sharing the correlation between venture capital and prospect theory, plus a few digressions.
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!
With the 2020 series of events, many of us have started to look for other ways to pass our time. Some have looked towards Netflix and Disney+. A number, baking (even ice cream making; thank you to everyone who got an ice cream machine before me). And others, gaming. The number of friends, who had no track record of gaming and suddenly started talking about how to farm iron nuggets in Animal Crossing: New Horizons, skyrocketed. Anecdotally, more than 3-4 fold more.
Games = social networks
Games have become the new social networks. I’m not even talking about the gaming subreddits on Reddit or the Discord channels out there. And much like how social networks are communal hubs of interaction, games, like:
…*deep breath* just to name a few, offer just as much, if not more. People spend hours indulging on the platform and interacting with friends. Not only that, because content is native to gaming platforms themselves, it makes it easier for friends to connect and share content on progress and goals. Much like groups and communities on social networks, many games have clan systems that increase retention and engagement on the platform. Games are just sticky.
By the numbers
They aren’t discrete “one-off” purchases, like my old Nintendo 64 cartridge games, but evolving engines of narrative and relief, or as Andreessen Horowitz calls them – living franchises. What started as “one-off” buys became downloadable contents post-launch (DLCs). And looking at games like World of Warcraft, Fortnite, with constant monthly updates, patches and hotfixes, the games you buy “in the box” are no longer the same beast as before. And now we have a term for it all – Games-as-a-Service (GaaS).
Though many in 2019 weren’t bullish on the 2020’s growth numbers, in hindsight, we’re seeing a whole different wave of optimism. Hell, March 2020 was a real winner for gamers, spending $1.6 billion on games, their hardware, software, accessories and game cards, thanks for COVID. Needless to say, Animal Crossing topped the charts. I can’t imagine the number at the end of 2020.
Social athletes
You also have Twitch streamers, YouTubers, mods, and creators who become the local/global authority on the market and often ubiquitous with the games/genres they play. Who can actively and passively sway how a community thinks and acts, just like big-time influencers on social media. They have effectively become, what I call, social athletes, turning their hobby into a full-time pursuit. And earning paychecks by representing the brand/team they love most, as well as through sponsorships and partnerships. Shroud, a former competitive e-sports athlete, now one of the biggest streamers in the industry and formerly exclusively streaming on Microsoft’s Mixer, took a 1.5 month break after the Microsoft shut down its Twitch competitor, Mixer. And on his first day back recently, he had half a million viewers tuning in to watch his revival on Twitch.
The next frontier
Just like how social networks evolved into ad-based revenue models, games are evolving into a similar beast, as well. Mobile games have been no stranger to advertisements for a long time. But we’re now seeing the change now on PC and console games. And in a slightly different nature. Where the ads are embedded into the game experience itself, rather than the pop-out kinds.
Epic Games’ Fortnite definitely took it all to the next level – from their live, in-game events to their virtual cosmetic options that acted as film promotions. The latter, much like, how LEGO releases a whole series of movie-related sets to help with promoting it. And their live events are no joke, whether it was:
Their live Marshmello concert (with 11 million attending live),
Or, when 3.1 million players got a sneak peek into a never-before-seen scene in Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker before it came to theaters.
As expected, many other games are following suit. Recently popular PC game, Fall Guys, is now hosting a “battle of the brands” on their Twitter – a bidding war to have your brand featured as a cosmetic in the game towards a good cause of donating to Special Effect, a charity dedicated to helping gamers with physical disabilities.
Last I checked, the bid is at $420,069.69. And yes, I’m sure the numbers were intentional.
So, what’s next?
Well, it’s an exciting time. Not too long ago, influencer marketing blew up. And now brands/games are becoming influencers in and of themselves. Whether that fall under influencer marketing or a new bucket, I don’t know. What I do know is that though we are all far apart right now, the world of media is bringing the larger world closer together. As more games:
Go cross-platform,
Are discovered organically and socially,
And are fueled and accelerated alongside co-creaters, influencers and user-generated content…
… while technologies, like 5G, virtual and augmented/mixed reality (VR/AR/XR), cloud gaming, and blockchain, bring more interactions into each game, building larger and immersive worlds, I’m quite bullish on the growth of the gaming industry. And as the gaming industry evolves, their learnings will bleed into other industries, via gamified models – from Pioneer gamifying the process of building a business to Superhuman gamifying productivity, first through emails.
Why? They’re sticky – high engagement and retention cohorts. And I dare say, sexy, as well. Frankly, game companies don’t just launch with minimum viable products (MVP), but minimum viable happiness (MVH). Or as Jiaona Zhang, VP Product at Webflow and lecturer at Stanford’s School of Management Science & Engineering, calls it: minimum lovable products (MLP).
If you’re interested in a deep dive on how to offer MVH or build an MLP, check out my previous post on the topic:
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!
Last week, my mentor/friend asked me if I knew anyone who’s stellar at storytelling and would be willing to hold a 1-hour workshop about it with his mentorship group. I connected with my buddy who earned his chops podcasting and being a brilliant customer-oriented founder, specifically on the user journey.
And it got me thinking. Hmmmm, I wonder how long people take to prep for a workshop or talk designed to inform and educate. Which eventually led me to the question… How much time allocation might many event hosts underestimate when asking a speaker to speak at their event?
Well, outside of travel, set up, rehearsal time, and of course, the length of the talk/workshop itself.
So, over the last few days, I reached out to 68 friends, mentors, and colleagues who have been on the stage before, including:
VCs – who invest out of vehicles that range from $5M to $1B (sample-specific)
Angels – investing individuals, who have over $1M in net worth
Founders – both venture-backed and bootstrapped
Executives – Fortune 500 and startup
Journalists
Influencers – YouTubers and podcasters
Consultants/Advisors
Professors
And, those who’ve been on public stages with 1000+ in live viewership.
… and asked them 2 questions:
How long, in hours, do you take to prepare for a 1-hour talk?
For the purpose of slightly limiting the scope to this question, let’s say it’s on a topic you’re extremely passionate and well-versed in, and the audience is as, if not more, passionate than you are.
And if I said this was for a high-stakes event, that may change your career trajectory, would your answer change? If so, how long would you spend prepping?
50 responded, with numerical answers, by the time I’m writing this post, with a few results I found to be quite surprising. *pushing my nerd glasses*
I was quite surprised at the unexpectedly positive response I received for my blogpost, My Cold Email “Template”, I wrote a month back. From DMs by you, my curious readers, and my friends. A great question some of you brought up was:
“What if I have to write a longer email to get my point across?”
It happens. As some of you may already know from this post and my Contact page, I don’t believe that all cold emails have to be short. I, myself, am guilty of writing longer messages sometimes just because I can’t figure out a shorter way to express my interest in that person in a cold email. Regardless, if I think they have the time to read it or not.
What appears fluid is twenty-four frames per second. Twenty-four precious moments per second, lived second after second after second. And each of those still moments is imbued with feelings and memories. The rapid fluidity of each of those moments defines the patterns and beliefs that, in turn, define our lives.
Our lives are twenty-four frames per second, with each frame a set piece of feeling, belief, obsession about the past, and anxiety about the future. Neither good nor bad, these frames form us. They become the stories we tell ourselves again and again to make sense of who we’re becoming, who we’ve been, and who we want to be.
Ghosts of our pasts – our grandparents and their grandparents as well as the ghosts of their lives – inhabit the frames. They and their beliefs, interpretations of scenes, words, and feelings haunt the frames of lives as surely as the roses, figs, and lemon drops of our present daily lives do.
Slowing down the movie of our lives, seeing the frames and how they are constructed, reveals a different way to live, a way to break old patterns, to see experiences anew through radical self-inquiry.
I recently had the fortune of having an email exchange with one of the greatest household names in the space of startups and venture capital, especially known for his empathy and candor. A name synonymous with mental health, accelerators and being radically honesty about his journey – professional and personal. In our chat on mental health, he highly recommended Jerry Colonna‘s book, where the above passage comes from. So I just had to get it.
I first heard of Jerry on Harry Stebbing’s Twenty-Minute VC (his most recent episode with the CEO Whisperer) and The Tim Ferriss Show. And over the years, possibly as a result of confirmation bias, I’ve heard his name pop up over and over again from various founders and VCs. Over the decades, many people know Jerry as:
And, probably best known now for being the CEO whisperer.
So far, his book has reflected all the above and more.
A short trip down memory lane
Although we’re used to 60 frames per second (fps) for daily use or 120 fps for movies these days, the illusion of motion was first found at the optimal 16 fps. Early silent films, like Charlie Chaplin films, were then sped up to 24 fps, as far back as 1927. Admittedly, part of the reason as to why they seemed so comical. As technology caught up, still, the de facto frame rate was 24 fps.
In 2012, The Hobbit series was shot in 48 fps. In 2016, Bill Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk was shot and projected in 120 fps. Gemini Man, which came to theaters 3 years later, followed suit. James Cameron also plans to shoot Avatar 2 at 60fps, with the goal of maximizing the feel of a 3D-world. But as both filmmakers and animators approach higher and higher frame rates, there have been and will continue to be the effect of the uncanny valley. Uncanny valley, or in other words, the more something artificial looks to be real, the more our minds try to reject its appearance. Subsequently, making certain objects, robots, or animations seem creepy and chilling. Part of the reason, it’s a ‘hell no’ to horror films for me.
After decades of 24 fps films, it’ll take a while before our minds catch up to what we see. But I digress.
Moving Forward
Just like how silent films shot at 12-16 fps were shown at 24 fps, giving its comical effect, many of us, myself included (until 3 years back), live by weaving narratives between cross sections of time – both in our personal lives and in our careers. And we script our biographies in a format where seemingly everything happened for a reason. Maybe some things did.
But on the other hand, maybe you’re like me. Where I don’t know what the hell is going to happen tomorrow. Yes, I tell myself I have these plans and goals in life I’m working on accomplishing. But if you ask me, what pitfalls are up ahead? I haven’t even thought about half of them. Another quarter, and I’m being generous to myself here, I think I have a good grasp on, but knowing myself, I’ve got about 20% of it down, 80% I’m missing some piece of the puzzle.
After all, as Warren Buffett once said,
“The rear view mirror is always clearer than the windshield.”
The last quarter – I’m scared – really scared for. But, what’s life without a bit of risk and adventure?
Moving in the Present
While it’s easy to build that narrative for the trail behind us, it’s hard to forecast the narrative forward. So, I take life play by play – frame by frame. Slowing down to that 16 fps, examining, like Jerry suggests, my life in real time. Savoring and reflecting on every moment – the good and the bad. Reexamine my biases – the overt and the covert, in the words of a brilliant sociology professor I chatted with last week. ‘Cause they will make who I am tomorrow.
So, I’ll end on 2 big questions, inspired by that professor. 2 questions I plan to answer and reexamine every month:
What do your social circles look like?
Professional? Personal?
How did you meet them? How often do you stay in touch with them?
What beliefs – overt and covert- are they reinforcing? Are these beliefs worth reinforcing?
Now that you know, what are you willing to give up to make it happen?
Are you willing to take radical measures to do so?
What do you say that you don’t mean? Or find it hard to follow through on?
#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!
