DGQ 2: How do you differentiate a good founder from a great founder?

typewriter, good vs great

By far, this is one of my favorite and most recurring questions over the years. And not just in the scope of founders, I’ve asked the same question for a multitude of titles:

  • Investors
    • On a similar note, I’ve asked investors: What’s the difference between a great investor and a great board member?
    • And it yielded some insightful answers.
  • Leaders
  • Managers
  • Executive hire
  • Marketers
  • Chefs (both since I was co-hosting a cooking competition in 2019 and 2020, but also for culinary tips to improve my own cooking)
  • Artists
  • Software engineers (when you’re hiring folks who are in a field you don’t have a strong competence in)
  • Auto mechanics (yes, when you drive a 2009 mommy van, it visits the shop more often than you’d like, but also funnily enough, one of the most reliable cars)
  • Friend versus best friend
  • Life partner

… just to name a few.

I love this question since its counterpart is often asked: What is the difference between a bad and a good founder? Unfortunately, the “bad vs good” dichotomy usually ends up being a vanity question. You don’t need a trained eye and years of experience for the average person to differentiate between a bad and a good. If you’re reasonably logical, you can tell the difference between a bad and a good in any industry. There are a few exceptions, like art, especially modern or abstract art. But the case holds for most other cases.

On the flip side, to be able to differentiate:

  • The good – top quartile (25%)
  • The great – top decile (10%)
  • And the epic – top percentile (1%)

… becomes increasingly more and more difficult the higher up you’re going. As the power law and the Pareto principle goes, the top 20% accounts for 80% of the results. In other words, the small top-performing minority account for the vast majority of the returns. For instance, the top 20% of VCs account for 80% of the industry’s returns. And the higher you go up in differentiation – from good to great to epic – the smaller the delta in inputs between the tiers. There is a far smaller difference in inputs between the top 1% and the top 2%, compared to the same percentile difference between the 50th and the 49th percentile.

Having said that, to a layperson, the most insightful answer you can get that will save you years of mistakes and failures and industry know-how is the differential between the top performers. As such, usually, I get answers that would have otherwise required a keener eye, much smarter brain, a more resilient body, and a more differentiated path than I have.

For example, here are some answers I’ve learned over the years that differentiate the good from the great:

  • VP Sales hire. Their ability to hire two rock-star directors from their network within 1-2 months of being hired.
  • Chef. Their morning routine, starting from how they set their palate in the morning to how they build a robust supply network.
  • Founder. Their ability to raise their team members’ potential and how close of a pulse they keep to their operating expenses/burn rate.
  • Manager. How radically candid they can be.

Of course, it’s one thing to know what are the differentiators and another thing to understand the differentiators. The latter requires you to internalize and cut your teeth so that you can understand the true value behind the answers to the above question.

Photo by Glenn Carstens-Peters 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.


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#unfiltered #30 Inspiration and Frustration – The Honest Answers From Some of the Most Resilient People Going through a World of Uncertainty

A few weeks ago, around the time I published Am I At My Best Right Now?, I started noticing more and more that my friends, colleagues, and people that I’ve met since were going through tough times. Two lost a family member. Some were laid off. Two were forced to leave this land I call home. Four broke up. Three burned out. Countless more told me they were stressed and/or depressed, and didn’t know how to escape this limbo. After I published that post, another handful of people also reached out and courageously shared the troubles they are going through now. How it’s been so hard to share with others. And yesterday, while editing this blog post, I found out that one of my high school friends had passed.

Inspiration and Frustration

During this time, I had a thought: Frustration is the absence of inspiration. There were many times in my own life when I was beating myself up because I couldn’t think of a solution. And a small percent of those times, I didn’t even bother to think of a solution since I was so engrossed in my frustration with myself.

In these unprecedented times and inspired by the conversations around me, I decided to show that we’re not alone. So, I asked people who I deeply respect and who could shed light as to what it means to be human. I asked just two questions, but they were only allowed to answer one of them:

  1. What is the one thing that inspires you so much that it makes everything else in life much easier to bear?
  2. What is stressing/frustrating you so much right now that it seems to invalidate everything else you’re doing?

In turn, they responded via email, text, or on a phone call. Of the 49 I asked, so far, 31 responded with their answers. 4 politely turned me down due to their busy schedules. Another one turned me down because she didn’t feel like she could offer value in her answer.

26 responded with what inspires them. 5 with what frustrates them. All of whom I know has been through adversity and back.

Admittedly, the hardest part about this study was how I was going to organize all these responses. Unlike the one about time allocation I did over a month ago, where I knew exactly how to organize the data before I even got all the responses, this one, I really didn’t know how to best illustrate the candor everyone shared. In fact, I would be doing a disservice to them, if reduced their honesty and courage to be vulnerable to mere numbers. So, in the end, below, I let everyone speak for themselves. Sometimes, simplicity is the best.

Thank you to everyone who contributed to making this blog post happen, including Brad Feld, Mars Aguirre, Shayan Mehdi, Thomas Owen, Chris Lyons, Mark Leon, Jamarr Lampart, Christen Nino De Guzman, Louis Q Tran, Sam Marelich, Dr. Kris Marsh, Quincy Huynh, DJ Welch, Jimmy Yue, and many, many more heroes who helped me and the world around us behind the curtains.

Continue reading “#unfiltered #30 Inspiration and Frustration – The Honest Answers From Some of the Most Resilient People Going through a World of Uncertainty”

#unfiltered #15 “You’re Only Here Because You’ve Won” – Thoughts on Systems, their Flaws, and Better System Design through Diversity at the Table

swimming pool, diversity and inclusion

It was late that summer Friday evening. The sun had just crossed the horizon, changing the sky from blood orange red to a deeper indigo. Having put in 9000 yards, half of which were back-to-back sprints, we finally wrapped up our 2-hour practice, exhausted and slightly bewildered.

‘Twas our new coach’s first day on the job. We were expecting a chill practice, but this stranger made us work for it. And he did not beat around the bush. Relentless. In sum, he was the Gordon Ramsay of swimming.

Needless to say, he didn’t make the best impression on the team. And it was fair to say that some of my teammates were not his biggest fans. As they all shuffled out, and I had to wait for my parents to come pick me up from practice, I helped Coach with pulling the tarp covers over the pool.

Breaking the silence, he asks, “David, d’ya like to swim?”

“Of course,” I reflexively reply.

“Why d’ya like it?”

“It’s fun. I made friends. It helps me de-stress.”

“No.” And his next few words changed my perspective forever – both in swimming and in life. “You like to swim because you’ve won.”

Showing Gratitude

Obviously, in my prepubescent self, I took my coach’s comment for its face value. I like to swim because I’m good at it. Or at least, relatively speaking among my peers at that point in time. But as I grew older, that comment resonated with me on a different wavelength.

And a conversation with world-class hustler and founder of Fleeting (a company changing the landscape of trucking), Pierre*, last Friday reminded me exactly why. What I said then about why I liked to swim wasn’t completely wrong. I was able to achieve a moderate amount of success in the sport because my parents, coaches, teammates, and other friends supported and cheered for me. But I also forgot to thank one more for my accomplishments. The system itself.

*You can catch a glimpse of Pierre’s amazing story on Gimlet Media’s The Pitch.

The System

The system itself, included:

  • Rules,
  • Privilege of having access to swimming pools,
  • Privilege of having access to coaches and supportive and ambitious teammates,
  • And, the seemingly minor technicalities,
    • My lane’s timers had faster reaction times compared to my competitor’s lane’s timers. For context, in regional meets, each lane would always have 3 timers each to record when you touched the wall on your finish, and they would take the median time as the final result.
    • My lane’s touchpad was working, but my competitor(s) may have had to rely on manual timers since their touchpad didn’t work. So, when it came down to close races and who touched the wall first, I would win.

Of course, there were moments I was a victim to said system as well. And I remember those moments far better than when I won as a result of the system.

So what?

The thing is, when everything is going my way, I often take it all for granted. One of the only times I realize and realized that there might be any flaws to the system are when I am left out. I have been and am a member of society that has profited from the systems – in swimming, in higher education, in work opportunities, just to name a few. And I’m sure there are even more I have yet to realize that I have benefited from.

The past few weeks have been a wake-up call to America, to the world, and to myself for what we have all let pass without questioning. And admittedly, it may be difficult to assess what explicit and implicit biases we have when we, in the words of Coach, are “winning”.

Diversity at the Table

So, it comes down to two fronts: internally and externally.

Internally, introspectively, let’s ask ourselves:

  • What have we won as a result of? And, what are we still winning in?
  • What have we benefited or profited from?

And just as there are winners, there exist still who have yet to win. Or win in a more consistent manner.

Externally, we need to bring into the fold those who have yet to win to help us assess what systemic flaws exist in our status quo. Frankly, it’s incredibly difficult to find our implicit biases alone. I know that I’ve been reminded multiple times in my life by those who are more cognizant in those arenas than I was and have been. And, those underrepresented and underestimated by the system can use all the help they can get.

Together, I’m confident we can find a better solution.

Photo by Marcelo Uva on Unsplash


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


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Candor Comes First – How to Navigate Tough Conversations

relationship, candor, truth, how to navigate tough conversations

The other day, I jumped on a call with a friend who was going through a speed bump in his relationship. Though I’m no behavioral scientist nor expert in all matters regarding relationships, I’ve been privy to cousin cases between other couples, dorm-mates and roommates, as well as startup teams. And like most people out there, I’ve been through my fair share as well.

From my own experience, as well as from being a fly on the wall to others’, a large portion of the drama starts with the time spent dancing around the elephant in the room. And the longer a pair (or more) dances, the worse it gets. At the same time, it’s easier said than done. Rationally, we know that we should start with the truth. But frankly, it’s hard for many of us, myself included, to speak the truth when we need to. And in my hesitation, I usually regress to thinking: “Maybe it’ll get better over time. Maybe he/she will just forget about it. Maybe someone else will solve it in my place.”

Though I’ve gotten better at getting straight to the point, I’ve, by no means, mastered my approach.

Last week, I tuned into Elizabeth Gilbert, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Eat, Pray, Love and Big Magic, on her recent episode with Tim Ferriss. Quoting her late lover, Rayya Elias, at the 13:48 mark of the episode, Elizabeth shares this brilliant comment:

“The truth has legs. It’s the only thing that will be left standing at the end of the day… And since that’s where we’re going to end up, why don’t we just start with it?”

The Boiling Frog Problem

As all drama goes, we end up beating ourselves and others up in the process. Yet, when the dust settles, we still come back to the one left standing. There’s a similar concept that I learned in a college business course called the boiling frog problem.

If you put a frog in boiling water right away, it’ll jump out. But if you put the frog in lukewarm water and slowly heat it up, it won’t notice until it’s too late. And for the sake of the analogy, end up dying in the latter case.

The emotional turmoil we go through in our daily lives is no exception. It’s much easier to address the problem from the get-go, then let it rot you inside out. To put it into perspective, let’s say you address the problem at the beginning. There are only two outcomes possible:

  1. It’s not as bad as you expected, and you’re able to resolve it easily.
  2. It’s just as bad as you thought it’d be (as your mind regresses to the worst case possible). And well, you get burnt, as expected. But you will come out as a stronger person than when you went in. A phoenix reborn.

In closing

In tricky times, many of our relationships have been put on the rocks. The important part isn’t the conflict itself, but how we resolve the conflict. A frame of mind where there is no blame to dish out, but taking mutual responsibility to come out stronger in finding the resolution. Mike Maples Jr, co-founder of Floodgate, one of the most successful VC firms in the Valley, once said:

“Ego is about who’s right. Truth is about what’s right.”

Photo by Alex Iby on Unsplash


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Five Lessons from “Brunches with Strangers”

Photo by Jay Wennington on Unsplash

One of the biggest aspects I lost when I graduated from college was the social life. All my social interactions these days range from driving distance to the need to cross the Pacific or Atlantic, compared to a simpler time when my friends were within walking distance. So, earlier this year, I started a little passion project: Brunch with Strangers (BWS).

BWS began as an effort for me to:

  • Help overcome my deep fear of public speaking;
  • Have an excuse to bring fascinating souls to the same table;
  • And, help make the San Francisco Bay Area feel just a little smaller and just a little more human.

It’s a Saturday brunch I hold every fortnight between six to eight thrill-seekers, hustlers, crafts(wo)men, entrepreneurs, engineers, and curiously-curious individuals. They are working on interesting projects, have captivating stories, and/or possess an infectious drive for their passion. The key element is that I have to be reasonably confident that they don’t know more than one other person who will be at BWS before the meal, which is, admittedly, harder than I initially thought for folks in the Bay Area. After 20 brunches, with a little over 100 guests and circling back in with 90% of them in the post-mortem, here are the five main takeaways from these enthralling conversations, ordered from the most to least intuitive for me:

  1. Structured conversations work better than unstructured conversations.
  2. Cap it.
  3. The culinary experience doesn’t matter.
  4. Embrace “awkward” silences.
  5. Don’t introduce the guests before the day of the brunch.

Structured conversations work better than unstructured conversations.

But what does “better” mean? I measure “better” by the guests’ answer, a month after the brunch, to the question:

Were you able to catch up with another BWS guest (whom you did not know beforehand) in person?

In the context of startups, that question is how I measure my product-market fit, which I share more context to in a separate post. Guests of a structured BWS are 30% more likely to catch up in person within a month of the brunch than guests who join me in an unstructured BWS. Between structured and unstructured brunches, a structured brunch is when I have at least one activity or topic planned for during the brunch, whereas unstructured brunch, my “control variable”, happens when the guests get to decide how and where the conversation goes, and discussion is more free-flowing.

Over the score of brunches I’ve hosted, the two most well-received activities were 1) a game I call Hidden Questions, and 2) where each guest brings two asks.

Hidden Questions, inspired by Jimmy Fallon’s Pour It Out, is a game where each person has to answer truthfully two to three questions, written by the previous group of people who played the game, but is not required to reveal what the question is. The deck of questions the previous group writes, which even I’m not privy to look through, can cover any topic and ask any range of questions – from favorite books to deepest fears to NSFW ones. Some of my personal favorite are “When was the last time you uncontrollably cried?” and “When was the last time you said ‘I love you’?”. If the person answering the question does not reveal the question itself, he/she has to eat a Beanboozled bean or take a spoonful of one of the spicier hot sauces found on the show Hot Ones. The catch is before the person answering the question decides to reveal question or not, the other guests can ask clarifying questions and bet additional beans or spoonfuls of hot sauce for the person to eat if he/she doesn’t reveal. So, if he/she does, then the other guests eat what they bet. It’s a fascinating game that creates a safe space where people have the excuse to be vulnerable, as well as revealing each person’s level of risk aversion.

On the flip side, to help guests mentally prepare and pick the dilemma of the highest priority, I ask guests at least 48 hours, up to a week, in advance to bring two asks to the brunch:

  1. One that they’d feel comfortable sharing with most of their friends;
  2. And, one that’s either deeply troubling them and require them to be vulnerable, or one that shows a very different side of them that most people they know might not recognize.

The asks themselves are structured by answering two questions: ‘What are you currently working on?’ and ‘What do you need help with?’, which can range from work to personal life to new projects and hobbies to relationships. When the time comes to share the guests’ asks, usually about 20 minutes in, I ask them to share the one they’re more comfortable in sharing. Based on what they share, I can gauge how comfortable they are with the other guests, as well as indicate how well I’m doing my job.

The asks also incentivize mentorship from folks who have had wildly different experiences in different industries at different ages. For example, an autonomous driving product manager provided advice on building systems to streamline communication to a remote workforce to a newly-minted landlord and property manager by predicting actions and that may need to be taken by the landlord’s employees and working to preempt them. In another brunch, an indie film producer taught us all how to hustle, be scrappy, and run effective crowdfunding campaigns by going back to the roots of meeting people face-to-face rather than over the Interwebs. And more recently, a digital nomad shared his $0.02 on how to build a network and community in a new geography and culture from scratch by being willing to do manual labor and noticing when people needed help, to build trust.

Cap it.

One of the best conversationalists I know, Bobby, once told me:

“A great conversation is like flirting with a girl you really like.”

Share enough to make him/her interested, but close the conversation sooner than you’d like to suggest a sense of scarcity, as well as a reason to go on a second date. If you reveal everything too soon, your audience will most likely lose interest as soon as they have no more questions, like how many of my friends have spoiled the whole plot of Game of Thrones (and now it’s The Mandalorian) before I even began Episode 1 of Season 1.

The same seems to be true for the BWS conversations. I found a moderately strong negative correlation between the length of the meal and the number of in-person catch-ups within a month of the meal, after the first one-and-a-half hours (and a moderately weak negative correlation of meal length and number of in-person catch-ups, if the meal length lasted between an hour and an hour and a half).

Both to be respectful to others’ schedules and to motivate them to catch up after, I cap the brunches to 1.5 hours. To be fair, I am still testing out the optimal length of time, since I don’t have a big enough sample size to decide from.

The culinary experience doesn’t matter.

I initially thought that more interesting meals and/or great eats, which at times, fell on the more expensive side at two to three dollar signs, would give folks, in the worst possible scenario, the culinary experience to talk about when they have no other topic or background of each other. It turns out the culinary experience doesn’t have a strong correlation to the reduction of the number of awkward silences, which I assumed would serve as a leading indicator for how likely guests were to catch up in-person after.

In fact, even when guests had the disposable income to afford the meal, when a meal is expected to exceed $50 per person, it is more likely that the culinary experience detracts from how vulnerable a person can be.

The culinary experience will always come second to the guests and the conversation they bring.

Embrace “awkward” silences.

Speaking of awkward silences, my initial goal was to reduce the number of “awkward” silences in a conversation. Maybe it was my anxiety speaking, but I realized two things:

  • What’s awkward to me may not be awkward to another;
  • And, silences are diamonds yet to form (under pressure).

Some people need time to digest everything they have heard up to that point in the conversation. Some people need a break to eat the food they ordered. Some people need time to formulate the next question they want to ask. But for me, silence offers an opportunity to allow guests to dig deeper.

In relation to silence, fours years ago, one of my dearest mentor figures, Robin, shared two rather insightful tips with me:

  1. “Listening is the most important of conversation, and silence, too is one of the sounds a conversation emits.”
  2. “People like to talk about themselves. Give them the opportunity to.”

Silence is that opportunity for people to share more about their life stories. And with the right prompt, it can become a safe space for them to be more vulnerable. And there are two ways I help them continue, with the addendum that I, myself, am vulnerable with them first, earlier in the brunch:

  1. Lean in. Ideally, with an open inquisitive look. I don’t have to say anything, but it will eventually prompt them to continue. It might feel a bit awkward at first.
  2. Ask them to rewind to a point they brought up that I find fascinating, curious, or needs more explanation.

Late night talk show hosts, like Conan O’Brien and Stephen Colbert, and podcast hosts, like Tim Ferriss and Cal Fussman, are really acute at catching these moments and serve as great case studies.

Don’t introduce the guests before the day of the brunch.

At first glance, this seems a bit counter-intuitive. Of course, I want the guests of each BWS to be excited for people who are going to be present at the brunch. I would absolutely love to show off the wicked roster of brilliant individuals each time. What ended up happening is when I did initially release the guest list, many guests did some diligence of the other attendees, and a few came to the brunch with predisposed assumptions of who the others were.

Though most tend to be relatively accurate assumptions, the brunch lost its air of mystery and curiosity which affected the guests in two noticeable ways.

  1. The guests who did their research were less curious on what they thought they knew about another guest and rarely ended up discovering the thought and emotional complexity behind social media posts, titles, and press releases.
  2. Over half of the guests who had been researched felt they couldn’t be as vulnerable as they would have liked, in efforts to “live up” to the expectations of the guests who did their research.

So, going against the grain, I decided, after the first five brunches, to no longer release the guest list prior to the meal.

In closing

With many more to follow, the lessons learned now is only the tip of the iceberg, as I continue my adventure learning from the craziest, the most curious, the most creative, and the most inspiring people out there.

À l’année prochaine!