Tag: dgq

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The Complexity of the Simple Question (DGQ 20)

Last week, Youngrok and I finally launched our episode together on Superclusters. In the midst of it all, we wrestle with the balance between the complexity and simplicity of questions to get our desired answer. Of course, we made many an allusion to the DGQ series. One of which, you’ll find below.

In many ways, I started the DGQ series as a promise to myself to uncover the questions that yield the most fascinating answers. Questions that unearth answers “hidden in plain sight”. Those that help us read between the lines.

Superclusters, in many ways, is my conduit to not only interview some of my favorite people in the LP landscape, but also the opportunity to ask the perfect question to each guest. Which you’ll see in some of the below examples.

  1. Asking Abe Finkelstein about being a Pitfall Explorer and how it relates to patience (1:04:56 in S2E1)
  2. What Ben Choi’s childhood was like (2:44 in S1E6) and how proposing to his wife affects how he thinks about pitching (1:05:47 in S1E6)
  3. How selling baseball cards as a kid helped Samir Kaji get better at sales (45:05 in S1E8)

In doing so, I sometimes lose myself in the nuance. And in those times, which happen more often than I’d like to admit, the questions that yield the best answers are the simplest ones. No added flare. No research-flexing moments. Where I don’t lead the witness. And I just ask the question. In its simplest form.

For the purpose of this essay, to make this more concrete, let’s focus on a question LPs often ask GPs.

“Tell me about this investment you made.“

In my mind, ridiculously simple question. Younger me would call that a lazy question. In all fairness, it would be if one was not intentionally aware about the kind of answer they were looking to hear OR not hear.

The laziness comes from regressing to the template, the model, the ‘what.’ But not the ‘why’ the question is being asked, and ‘how’ it should be interpreted. For those who struggle to understand the first principles of actions and questions, I’d highly recommend reading Simon Sinek’s Start with Why, but I digress.

Circling back, every GP talks about their portfolio founders differently. If two independent thinkers have both invested Company A, they might have different answers. Won’t always be true, but if you look at two portfolios that are relatively correlated in their underlying assets AND they arrive at those answers in the same way, one does wonder if it’s worth diversifying to other managers with different theses and/or approaches.

But that’s exactly what makes this simple question (but if you want to debate semantics, statement) special. When all else is equal, VCs are left to their own devices unbounded from artificial parameters.

Then take that answer and compare and contrast it to how other GPs you know well or have invested in already. How do they answer the same question for the exact same investment? How much are those answers correlated?

It matters less that the facts are the same. Albeit, useful to know how each investor does their own homework pre- and post-investment. But more so, it’s a question on thoughtfulness. How well does each investor really know their investments? How does it compare to the answer of a GP I admire for their thoughtfulness and intentionality?

(Part of the big reason I don’t like investing in syndicates because most outsource their decision-making to larger logos in VCs. On top of that, most syndicate memos are rather paltry when it comes to information.)

The question itself is also a test of observation and self-awareness. How well do you really know the founder? Were you intentional with how you built that relationship with the founder? How does it compare to the founder’s own self-reflection? It’s also the same reason I love Doug Leone’s question, which highlights how aware one is of the people around them. What three adjectives would you use to describe your sibling?

Warren Buffett once described Charlie Munger as “the best thirty-second mind in the world. He goes from A to Z in one go. He sees the essence of everything even before you finish the sentence.” Moreover in his 2023 Berkshire annual letter, he wrote one of the most thoughtful homages ever written.

An excerpt from Berkshire’s 2023 annual letter

As early-stage investors, as belief checks, as people who bet on the nonobvious before it becomes obvious, we invest in extraordinary companies. I really like the way Chris Paik describes what we do. “Invest in companies that can’t be described in a single sentence.”

And just like there are certain companies that can’t be described in a single sentence — not the Uber for X, or the Google for Y — their founders who are even more complex than a business idea cannot be described by a single sentence either. Many GPs I come across often reduce a founder’s brilliance to the logos on their resume or the diplomas hanging on their walls. But if we bet right, the founders are a lot more than just that.

Of course, the same applies to LPs who describe the GPs they invest in.

In hopes this would be helpful to you, personally some areas I find fascinating in founders and emerging GPs and, hell just in, people in general include:

  • Their selfish motivations (the less glamorous ones) — Why do this when they can be literally doing anything else? Many of which can help them get rich faster.
  • What part of their past are they running towards and what are they running away from?
  • All the product pivots (thesis pivots) to date and why. I love inflection points.
  • If they were to do a TED talk on a subject that’s not what they’re currently building, what would it be?
  • Who do they admire? Who are their mentor figures?
  • What kind of content do they consume? How do they think about their information diet?
  • What promises have they made to themselves? No matter how small or big. Which have they kept? Which have they not?
  • How do they think about mentoring/training/upskilling the next generation of talent at their company/firm?

The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.

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

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

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DGQ 19: Does the overall level of the team make me question if I’d be a good enough to play in this industry?

“I won’t forget the first time I saw Jason Peters do a one-on-one pass set with Trent Cole, and being amazed at the speed, balance, and power I just witnessed. It reminded me, or looked like, a grizzly bear wrestling a panther. It was so impressive, it made me question if I was good enough to play in this league.”

Much of this DGQ was inspired by Jason Kelce’s retirement speech, delivered with the prose and candor befitting of a legend. Which for those who have yet to read/listen to it, it’s 24 minutes that will be well-spent, whether you’re a sports, football, or Eagles fan or not.

There’s something really special about being the underdog. Whether you feel it or others say it. That slight chip on the shoulder, that measured level of imposter syndrome, is fuel to the fire. There is a distinct advantage for being the dumbest person in the room, knowing that there are mentor figures on the team you can learn voraciously from, even if by osmosis. And if you do have naysayers, you have the greatest privilege to prove them wrong. It means that you have space to grow. That journey ahead, at least for me, is quite exciting.

After all, in Jason’s 2018 Super Bowl Parade speech, he quoted another line from Jeff Stoutland. “Hungry dogs run faster.”

Although not framed nearly as eloquently as Jason Kelce put it, it’s something I think about a lot. Does the overall level of the team make me question if I’d be a good enough to play in this industry?

Challenge is as scary as it is thrilling.

Similarly in VC, we often say it’s an apprenticeship business. And it’s true. Almost every great investor I know had someone who took them under their wing and showed them the ropes. Sometimes a set of people. And it’s incredibly hard to learn and check your blindside without someone who plans to dedicate a good portion of their time to do so. That said, the next best you can get is to learn by osmosis.

You are the average of the five people you hang out with most. So if you have the chance to live and breathe alongside people who intimidate you with their skill, intellect and the way they execute in a good way, take it.

Photo by Vicky Sim on Unsplash

The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.

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

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

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DGQ 17: What is your greatest strength that you are most worried about not coming across during an interview setting?

camera, interview, question

A while back, I stumbled across this question by Siqi Chen while doomscrolling through Twitter, and I couldn’t help but do a double take on it. It’s something I often worry that I miss when founders or GPs pitch me, but also when I host fireside chats. I worry in my myopia with hitting an agenda of questions, I may miss the most important part about the person sitting across from me. In any interview setting, interviewers always have a pre-destination in mind. And often it’s the onus of the interviewee to alter that flow if a dam is restricting the power of the torrent. In other words, your strength. It’s why I ask, “Are there any questions you have yet to be asked, but wish someone were to ask you?” But I like Siqi’s way of asking it a lot more.

Take ambition as a strength, for example. Really hard to tell by just looking at a resume, especially one who says they are and someone who actually is.

At the same time, there’s a beautiful line that the late Ingvar Kamprad, best known for founding IKEA, once wrote. “Making mistakes is the privilege of the active — of those who can correct their mistakes and put them right.” And that’s okay, in fact heavily encouraged for anyone who has ambitions. Because in order to achieve the extraordinary, you cannot pursue the ordinary. You have to tread where no one has treaded before. And a lagging indicator of that is the number of mistakes and scar tissue you’ve collected over the years. So, in an interview, to best illustrate your ambition, you have to talk about the lessons you’ve learned to get here. The greater the mistake, the more risk you took. And often times, the greater the ambition.

Kevin Kelly also said recently, “I’d like to give a little story of a car, and you need to have brakes on the car to steer the car. But the engine is actually the more important element, and so there are people and there are organizations, and there are methods that are going to be doing the braking, and I think they’re essential. I want brakes in the car, but I just feel that the brake can overwhelm and cause stagnation, and that we also wanted to remember to focus on making the engine even stronger, and so I emphasized the engine.”

In an interview, it’s the difference between promotion and prevention questions. As Dana Kanze once shared, ““A promotion focus is concerned with gains and emphasizes hopes, accomplishments, and advancement needs, while a prevention focus is concern with losses and emphasizes safety, responsibility, and security needs.” As such, in an interview, you want to channel your energy to being asked at least one promotion question that highlights your strength.

Conversely, as I’m writing this right after reading Chris Neumann‘s most recent post on fake FOMO, creating a fake sense of urgency is one of the best ways to ensure your greatest strength won’t come out during the interview.

Today’s just a short blogpost. Just to say I’m a fan of Siqi, one of the greatest masters of storytelling, and this question. In case, you’re looking for more Siqi content, check out here and here.

Photo by Sam McGhee on Unsplash

The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.

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

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

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DGQ 16: What is a story that you’ve told or have yet to tell where you either fight to hold back tears or fight to hold back giggles?

tears

Whenever I host fireside chats, I always ask three questions before the talk begins, usually a week in advance.

  1. What would make this interview the most memorable one you’ve been a guest for even two years from now?
  2. Are there any topics you don’t want to talk about? Or are sick of talking about?
  3. Are there any questions you have yet to be asked, but wish someone were to ask you?

On top of the above three questions , occasionally, I ask a fourth. Do you have a home run story that has gotten you a standing ovation in the past — privately or publicly?

The goal is simple. Despite hours of research and asking mutuals, sometimes I still can’t find anything that’s humanizing about my guest. And I know for a fact that all humans are imperfect. And that imperfection makes each person relatable. Just like when Neil Gaiman met Neil Armstrong. But recently, I’ve fallen in love with a new way to phrase the fourth question.

What is a story that you’ve told or have yet to tell where you either fight to hold back tears or fight to hold back giggles?

On my flight to New York recently, I watched a movie starring one of my favorite actors in the world, Tom Hanks, which inspired this question. And, subsequently this blogpost. A Man Called Otto. Inspired by Fredrick Backman’s A Man Called Ove. And I’m not ashamed to say, I cried during that movie. While Rotten Tomatoes may not give it the score I think it deserves, it was well-written and well-produced. Through it, I realized that powerful stories are powerful not because of how awesome the protagonist is. But by how relatable their weaknesses are. Their limitations. I’ll give an example… to avoid spoiling the afore-mentioned movie.

Spiderman isn’t awesome because he has mutant powers. He’s awesome because he’s prone to all the emotions and struggles, be it love, bullies at school, a horrible boss, and how he acts out against all of that. Spiderman’s much more relatable than a super billionaire who owns all the gadgets in the world or an alien from another planet. He’s just a kid from Brooklyn. Or Queens, depending on which Spiderman suits your fancy. And as Brandon Sanderson once said, limitations are more interesting than powers. Limitations make us human. And characters who exhibit humanness and still somehow overcome impossible odds are stories that are passed from generation to generation.

That said, storytelling, outside the realm of superpowers, is equally as true. In a world where appearance and social capital goes a long way, trying to be perfect, to look perfect, and to act perfect is a fallacy in the modern era. While we know we’re not perfect, as a society, we continue to strive for perfection.

After watching a lot of movies, and in my free time, watching acting lessons (FYI, would fail as an actor, but still find the craft fascinating.), I’ve learned we don’t cry when watching movies because the characters cry easily. We cry because the character is trying to hold back their tears. And we don’t laugh during a show or a movie because the comedian laughs easily. We laugh even more because they’re trying to hold back their own laughter. The narrators and characters we see are a reflection of who we truly are.

In many ways, if someone cries easily, it relieves the audience of the ability, some artists may call it responsibility, to cry. Someone, the actor or actress or character has diffused the tension already. But if they fight to hold back their tears, holding back the floodgates, we as the audience are more likely to cry in their stead.

Now I say all of this because I find most fireside chats and interviews unrelatable. Now it’s a product of many things. And I genuinely believe a plethora of individuals do have something powerful and insightful to share, but the stage needs to be ready for them. It’s rare for guests to drop some head-turning advice in the first 10 minutes. Which means… it’s up to both the host and the guest to hold the audience’s attention long enough, as well as create enough opportunities for the guest to shine. The above question, in my opinion, does both.

So all in all, going forward, rather than asking for a home run story, I will ask for stories where people are just people. And for stories that mean a tremendous amount to the people telling them. That they have no choice but to let even a little bit of themselves out emotionally.

Photo by shahin khalaji on Unsplash

The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.

Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.

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

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DGQ 15: Which part of your past are you rebelling against? Which part are you running towards?

rebel

I forget where I heard this recently, but I thought it was a great breakdown of how we are all a function of our past.

When I first jumped into the action-packed world of venture, the most daunting part of the job wasn’t the spreadsheets or the modeling or asking great questions to founders or being a thought leader. It was the seemingly sustained extroversion that was necessary to be successful in the field.

Everyone, but especially the best investors, seemed naturally extroverted. And, well… I wasn’t. And neither did I want to be. To me, being an extrovert just seemed so exhausting. That said, it didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy every second chatting with amazing founders and investors. I was just — still am — the person who taps out two hours into a party. Three, max. In fact, I used to be a stereotypically shy introvert back in grade school. Comfort and safety were my best friends.

So, the reason I’m sharing all this in the first place is that we are all a product of our history. In the world of startups and VC, it seems like the best founders and investors were born extroverted and with great charisma. They were daring, rebellious, and ambitious from the start. They have these wild stories of how they broke the rules as kids and how each of those anecdotes made them who they are today. And somehow they turn each of the afore-mentioned into great Twitter threads. But I digress.

I, for one, have not had those same experiences. But when I finally entered college, I let what would have been some of my most formative experiences slip through my fingers – a freshman year crush, the opportunity to invest in a classmate who became a world-class founder, just to name a few. All of the above opportunities I was deeply curious about but didn’t have the courage to speak up. And I beat myself up over it. So today, my spurts of extroversion isn’t a trait I was born with, but motivated by the deep regret I used to and probably still do carry of my past inability to seize the moment. A past I am rebelling against.

And I know I’m not alone. Having chatted with numerous introverted founders and investors I deeply respect, I know I’m in good company. For those reading who fall under the same cohort, you are too. We just don’t speak out much, so it may be hard to tell that we exist. Of course, this is only one example among many in a cosmos of life experiences and characters.

So, as you’re charting your life’s journey and sharing it in an interview, coffee chat, or fundraising pitch:

Which part of your past are you rebelling against? Which part are you running towards?

And be honest. If you can’t be with the world, be so with yourself.

As a result of writing a soon-to-be-published blogpost on how limited partners (LP) think about investing in VC funds, one LP shared a similar line of thinking. For emerging fund managers (equally true for founders), why does this product/space mean so much to you? The answer isn’t just because you worked X number of decades in it, but something more fundamental. If you don’t have one, you might find your founder-market fit elsewhere.

Photo by Yeshi Kangrang on Unsplash

The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.

Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.

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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DGQ 14: Why does the world need another venture fund?

rock, big rock, small rock

If you’ve been following me on Twitter recently, you might have noticed I’m working on a new blogpost for the emerging LP. One that I’m poorly equipped personally to talk about, but one that I know many LPs are not. Hence, I’ve had the opportunity to sit down with a number of LPs (limited partners – people who invest in venture funds) and talk about what is the big question GPs need to answer to get LP money, specifically institutional LP money.

And it boils down to this question:

Why does the world need another venture fund?

Most LPs think it doesn’t. And it is up to the GP to convince those LPs why they should exist. For most institutional LPs, even those who mean to back emerging managers, to invest in a new manager, they have to say no to an existing manager. While data has historically shown that new managers and small funds often outperform larger, more established funds on TVPI, DPI, and IRR, when institutional LPs invest in a Fund I, it’s not just about the Fund I, but also the Fund II and Fund III.

For those who reading who are unfamiliar with those terms, TVPI is the total value to paid-in capital. In other words, paper returns and the actual distributions you give back to LPs. DPI, distributions to paid-in capital, is just the latter – the actual returns LPs get in hand. IRR, internal rate of return, is the time value of money – how much an LP’s capital appreciates every year.

It’s a long-term relationship. Assuming that you fully deploy a fund every three years, that’s a 19-year relationship for three funds. Three years times three funds, with each fund lasting ten years long. If you ask for extensions, that could mean an even longer relationship.

But the thing is… it’s not just about returns. After all, when you’re fundraising for a Fund I, you don’t have much of a track record as a fund manager to go on. Even if you were an active angel and/or syndicate lead, most have about 5-6 years of deals they’ve invested in. Most of which have yet to realize.

So, instead, it’s about the story. A narrative backed by numbers of what you see that others don’t see. Many institutional LPs who invest in emerging managers also invest directly into startups. I’ve seen anywhere from 50-50 to 80-20 (startups to funds). And as such, they want to learn and grow and stay ahead of the market. They know that the top firms a decade ago were not the top firms that are around today. In fact, a16z was an emerging fund once upon a time back in 2009.

Of course, anecdotally, from about 15-ish conversations with institutional LPs, they still want a 4-5x TVPI in your angel investing track record as table stakes, before they even consider your story.

Over the past two years, capital has become quite a commodity. And different funds tackle the business of selling money differently. Some by speed. Others by betting on underestimated founders and markets.

The question still looms, despite the cyclical trends of the macroeconomy, what theses are going to generate outsized alphas?

And synonymously, why does the world need another venture fund?

Photo by Artem Kniaz on Unsplash

The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.

Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.

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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DGQ 13: Could You Repeat That Question?

For the better half of my life, I’ve searched and am still searching to be a better purveyor of questions. And in my journey to do so, in searching for the perfect question for each situation, I’ve made mistakes. I wanna say more so than the average person in the realm of asking questions, but of course I might be suffering from availability bias.

The lagging indicator of which is the number of times I’ve been asked: Could you repeat that question? Or I didn’t quite catch that. Or frankly, just a puzzled look from the person I am looking for answers from.

In those moments, and it never gets old, I had never felt so emasculated. Moments that will continue to play a theme in my life. But it is in those moments when refinement happens. When I sharpen the steel of each curiosity. A forcing function for improvement.

In this world there are so many “lazy” ways to ask a question. Some may get the answer you want. Most of the time, you will be leaving secrets untold on the table.

Albeit a short blogpost, but once again, I was reminded recently that the only way to improve is by making new mistakes. And even after all the mistakes I’ve made and will continue to make over the years, I don’t think it ever gets easier. But I am able to jump back from a depressive state faster.

Cheers to new mistakes!

Photo by Varvara Grabova on Unsplash

The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.

Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.

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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DGQ 12: What is play to you but work to everyone else?

children playing, not work

What is play to you but work to everyone else? Or said differently, what do you love doing that many others would hate or get bored of quickly?

This isn’t an original self-query. I want to say I heard it years ago on one of Tim Ferriss’ episodes, but the exact one escapes me. Yet, recently, my friends and colleagues remind me of this more and more. In the ultimate shortage of labor, more than ever before, people are rethinking what career means to them and what a meaningful career means. I’ve had friends become full-time live streamers, NFT creators, inventors, fiction novelists, artisans… you name it, and I bet you someone that I know – hell someone you know – has dabbled or jumped head-first into it. It truly is the era of the Great Resignation.

Now this question isn’t a call to arms to leave whatever you’re doing. Rather a direction of clarity that may help you live a more enriching life. Something to pursue in your down time. Until you can find a way to get paid to do so – unless you happen to have 20-30 years of runway from previous riches. The same is true if you’re an aspiring founder. Work on your project part-time, until you are ready to take it full-time either with investment capital or revenue.

For me, the answer to the above question is:

  • Writing (to think)
  • Meeting, and more specifically, learning from passionately curious and curiously passionate people (what can I say, I’m a glutton for inspiration)
  • Becoming a world-class questioner (you’ve probably guessed this one from the DGQ series)
  • Collecting quotes and phrasings that resonate (a few of which are repeat offenders on my blog)
  • Helping people realize their dreams (something that was much easier when I only had 20 friends, but much harder when I’m adding zeros to the right)

Many of the above have become synonymous with my job description over the years. Did I predict I would fall into venture capital? No. Frankly, it was a result of serendipity and staying open-minded to suggestions from people I really respect.

While this may come off as virtue signaling, to me, I’m willing to, did lose, and continue to lose sleep over each and every one of the above activities. And if I know anything about myself, my goalposts are likely to change over time. Not drastically, but fine-tuned over time.

Photo by Robert Collins on Unsplash

The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.

Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.

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DGQ 11: Was the David from a month ago laughably stupid?

laugh fox smile

Was the David from a month ago laughably stupid?

I’m a big fan of self-deprecating humor, but this isn’t one of those moments. Rather it’s a learning moment. While the above question is a lagging indicator for personal growth, it nevertheless deserves to be measured. After all, as the great Peter Drucker would say, you cannot manage what you cannot measure.

The timeframe of evaluation

Why a month? Why not a week? Or not a year?

In the business world, there’s a concept called the rule of 72. Effectively, 72 divided by the growth rate is the time it takes to double. For instance, if you’re growing 30% month-over-month, 72 divided by 30 is 2.4. So, if you’re growing revenue at 30% every month, you’re going to double your revenue in roughly two and a half months.

It is equally as analogous for personal growth.

time it takes to shock yourself = 72 / rate of learning

Let’s say you’re a first-time founder, and you only knew 10 things about how to start a business. But every day, you learn one more thing – via podcasts, articles, blogs, classes, you name it. Give or take a 10% growth rate. You will double your knowledge in about a week. Hopefully enough to shock the you from a week prior. Or take another example, many self-help books ask you to commit to getting 1% better every day. Assuming you consistently do that, you would have doubled your experience in about 2.5 months.

That goes to say, the faster you want to grow, the shorter the timeframe should be for you to look back and reflect on your “stupidity.” For me, it is in my nature to be hungry for knowledge, and I really love learning about things I thought I knew and what I didn’t know. For now, as learning is a top priority for me, a month sounds like a reasonable timeframe to shock myself. I also use the term “stupidity” lightly and with notes of self-deprecating love.

The shock factor

But how do you measure personal growth? Something rather intangible. It isn’t a number like revenue or user acquisition. Some people might have a set of resolutions or goals that is tangible and quantitative – say read two books a month or exercise an hour four days a week. Great goals, but they are often based on the assumption that movement is progress. The two aren’t mutually exclusive, but neither are they synonymous. The former – movement – lacks retrospection.

There were, are, and will be days, weeks, and months, we may just be busy. Our schedule is packed. We’re a duck paddling furiously underwater. And we’re gasping for air. And while our body and mind are exhausted, our body and mind have not expanded. I know I’m not alone when I think to myself, “Wow, I did a lot, but I still feel like I’m not moving anywhere.”

Our brains are unfortunately also poor predictors of the future. We use past progress as indicators of future progress. But while history often rhymes, it does not repeat. Our predictions end up being guesstimates at best.

So I look into the past. I measure my own personal growth emotionally – by shock, very similar to how Tim Urban measures progress of the human race (which I included at the end of a previous essay). I don’t know what the future will hold and neither will I make many predictions of what the future will hold for me. If I knew, I’d have made a fortune on the stock market already, in startups, or on crypto already. What I can commit to is my relentless pursuit of taking risks, making mistakes, and trying things that scare the bejesus out of me. Since only by making new mistakes will I grow as a person. What I am equipped with now can be mapped out by the scar tissue I’ve accumulated.

Coming full circle, what’ll make me realize and appreciate my mistakes and failures more is knowing that as a greenhorn I was laughably stupid.

But if, in retrospect, David from a month ago sounds like quite the sensible person, my growth will have gone from exponential to linear. Or worse, flatlined.

For founders

And now that I’m thinking aloud – or rather, writing aloud (which may deserve its indictment into the #unfiltered series), this might be a great line of questions to ask founders as well.

As a founder, what was the last dumb thing you did? When was that?

And before that, what was the second most recent dumb thing you did?

And the third most recent?

There’s the commonly repeated saying in the venture world. Investors invest in lines, not dots. Two’s a line. Three’s a curve. I want to see how fast you’ve been growing and learning.

Why such a question?

  1. If we’re in it for the long run, I wanna assess how candid and self-aware you are. Pitch meetings often depict a portrait of perfection. But founders, like all humans, aren’t perfect. For that matter, neither are investors.
  2. Venture capital is impatient capital. We demand aggressive timelines, and honestly, quite toxic to most people in the world. Given that, if you’re going to learn how to hustle after investors invest, you’re going to have a tough time convincing investors. But if the hustle is already in your DNA, that bias to action lends much better to the venture model.

Photo by Peter Lloyd on Unsplash

Thank you to V. who inspired this blogpost.

The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.

Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.

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DGQ 10: Questions Should Not Be Perfect

perfect questions, reflection

Straight off the bat, you might have realized that the 10th issue of the DGQ series – damn good questions – starts off with a non-question. And it is intentional by design. I often waste a number of calories constructing the perfect question. And in many ways, I get very, very close to what I deem as perfection. Exhibit A, B, and C.

But over the course of constructing the perfect question and its subsequent research, I often uncover the answer I am seeking… before I even ask it to the intended designee. I don’t mean for the odd question here and there amidst spontaneous conversation. But the predestined ones to be asked in:

  • Fireside chats
  • Intro conversations
  • Coffee chats with individuals where I’m punching above my weight class
  • Podcast interviews
  • Social experiments
  • First dates (possibly self-incriminating)

Accompanied by the excuse of creating conversation, I ask it despite the since-acquired knowledge. Sometimes to the wonder and amazement of the recipient, but more often than not to the boredom of myself. While the words that flutter out of my mouth may sound like a question, it ends up merely being a statement rearranged on a NY Times crossword puzzle.

In reframing questions for myself, I realized… If I knew all the answers to the questions I would ask, that’d make for quite a boring life. While boredom only surfaced a minority of the time, it occurred noticeably enough times. If I had a mirror to myself every time I asked a question, I imagine I would find myself asking the ones I have the answers to already with a furrowed brow.

Last year, in the relentless pursuit of being a better host for structured conversations, I over-optimized for shock and delightful surprise. Shock became my unfortunate currency for my personal delight. Rather than enlightenment, education, and inspiration. In the construction of the “perfect question,” while protecting my downside – in terms of embarrassment, I capped my upside.

So, this essay is a reminder to myself. Ask dumb questions. It’s okay. It’s only by reinventing yourself again and again through the ashes of unintentional ignorance can you rise like a phoenix.

I’m reminded of a quote by quite a contrarian philosopher, Karl Popper, but nevertheless quite appropriate here. “Good tests kill flawed theories; we remain alive to guess again.”

If you’re reading this essay, be prepared for a lot more dumb questions from me. Dumb, not garbled. Dumb and simple. I’ll continue to do my homework before conversations. But if I’ve found the answer already, I’m going to keep myself accountable to either find new questions or cancel the meeting. Cheers to the motif of exploration! And I’ll see you where I cannot foresee.

Photo by Faye Cornish on Unsplash

The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.

Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.

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