Tag: peter drucker

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Telltale Signs of When Risk is High

jenga, risky

At the end of last week, an LP told me something quite provocative. That right now in 2024, we’re in a low-risk environment.

And in all fairness, I thought he was completely bonkers. Fear is high. Investments have slowed their pace, especially in the private markets. Markets have really yet to recover. Some believe we’ve hit the bottom and will bounce around the bottom a few times. Others think we’ve yet to see the worst of it. Hell, just yesterday, Eric Bahn tweeted the below:

Wars are raging across the world. Currency is fluctuating on a global scale. Hell, even for the average person, prices are going up at a rate unfamiliar to most people’s memory.

But his next line really made me pause. “You’re right. There’s geopolitical risk, currency risk, market risk, and valuation/pricing risk. And we can identify every single one of them. In fact, the actual risk of investing today is really low, but the perceived risk is really high. Risk is highest when you can’t tell what the risk is. That was 2020 and 2021, when you couldn’t put a finger on what kinds of risk were out there.”

And that really stuck with me. To underscore again, risk is highest when you can’t tell what the risk is.

And so paved way for this blogpost. Albeit, that last line was the punchline.

He later told me that the concept wasn’t original, but that its origin traces its way back to Ken Moelis. Regardless of the attribution, it’s worth doing a double take on.

There’s that famous Peter Drucker line, “You can’t manage what you don’t measure.” And in many ways, it is just as true for risk as it is for tasks and KPIs and OKRs.

The family office for a well-known luxury brand once told me that they like to pay the complexity premium on esoteric alternatives. To them, venture is one of those esoteric alternatives. In addition, they’re also happy to overpay during bull markets. Access to a volatile and nascent asset class, to them, deserves a premium.

But taking a step back, there may be more wisdom to it than I initially thought. In bear markets, when the risk is real and discrete, there is no complexity premium to pay. After all, you can begin to manage what you do measure. On the flip side, in a bull market, where no one really knows who will win or what the macro risks are, a premium can be and often is paid as a bet on a company’s future and insurance against a margin of error that is hard to define.

Of course, one can say that the premium is often hype-driven instead of risk-driven. But really, hype is just long-term risk donned with a new set of clothes. A short-term luxury with a buy-now-pay-later tag that comes in quarterly installments of belt-tightening and regret.

While I personally have always believed that as an investor it’s better to be disciplined and to “dollar cost average” across vintages vis a vis time diversification, there are several great investors who believe price is a trap. At the top of my head, Peter Fenton and Keith Rabois. The latter shared his thoughts earlier this year on why. At least for seed and Series A. That in summary, there is no limit on how much you pay for a great company at the seed and Series A (likely the pre-seed as well) that won’t return you multiple-fold back. And that debates on price really are leading indicators on conviction or lack thereof.

The last part of which I agree to an extent.

All that to say, I think a useful exercise to go through whenever making a major (investment) decision is to take out a notepad and write down all the risks you can think of. If you can think of it, you can probably find a way to hedge against it. On the flip side, if you’re about to make a decision and you can’t think of any risks, that’s probably the biggest risk you’ll take.

As my mom told me since I was a kid, “There’s no such thing as a free lunch.”

But if you do come up with a good list, and the world around you is still scared, and you think there might be something special in the opportunity in front of you, sometimes it pays to be bullish when others are bearish.

Photo by Naveen Kumar on Unsplash

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

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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The Gravitational Force of Founder-Market Fit

wildfire, founder market fit

There’s a question I love asking founders. What does product-market fit look like to you?

PMF is often nonobvious and guesswork in foresight, but incredibly obvious in hindsight. But the ability to foresee and measure an inflection point in the business is a common thread among the best founders in the world. For Rahul Vohra, that was when 40% or more of his customers responded with “very disappointed” to the survey question “How would you feel if you could no longer use Superhuman?” After all, the famous Peter Drucker did say, “You can’t manage what you can’t measure.”

Founders often find themselves pushing their product onto customers pre-PMF. But once they find PMF, they feel the pull of the market. In the words of David Sacks, when you find PMF, “the market is pulling product out of the startup.”

For further reading here, I highly recommend reading Lenny Rachitsky’s essay on the topic.

But, what is founder-market fit?

Much like PMF, for founders, there exhibits a similar level of pull. But its measurability is often not by quantitative metrics like PMF, but qualitative. At a virtual lunch last week, Founders Fund’s and Varda’s Delian Asparouhov shared his brutally candid remarks on living a fulfilling life.

One of the questions he answered was when did he know he just had to start Varda. Why didn’t he just stay a full-time VC? Delian called it the “mind virus.” When the problem hits you like a truck and you just can’t get rid of it. Once you get it, it infects your whole brain, and you can’t not think about it.

When you have more questions than answers. And each layer of questions gets more and more specific, and no longer generalist. In fact, the majority of questions that take up your mental real estate do not have membership in the:

  1. First 500 questions about the topic in a generalist’s mind
  2. First 100 questions in a specialist or expert’s mind space. In fact, one of the greatest litmus tests (not the only) you can administer is getting the “Oh f**k, how come I haven’t thought of that?” response.

Naivete matters

Paul Graham wrote an equally great piece on the topic. “Naive optimism can compensate for the bit rot that rapid change causes in established beliefs. You plunge into some problem saying ‘How hard can it be?’, and then after solving it you learn that it was till recently insoluble. Naivete is an obstacle for anyone who wants to seem sophisticated, and this is one reason would-be intellectuals find it so difficult to understand Silicon Valley.”

In the analogous words of Delian, “Just ask the technical experts, is this impossible? There’s a big difference between very, very difficult and impossible. Is it just a very technical religion where people say no or is it impossible?” There’s a superpower in knowing just enough to dream and reach for the “impossible”, but not enough to get trapped in the technical dogma of what is “possible.”

Great founders are armed with the ability to balance childlike wonder with optimistic pragmatism. Great founders dare to dream. It is neither the first, nor the last you’ll hear of James Stockdale on this blog. But nevertheless, I find his words to ring equally as true for the best founders who have graced this planet. “You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end – which you can never afford to lose – with the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they may be.”

In closing

In sum, what is founder-market fit? It is when passion turns into obsession. When founders are married to the problem, as opposed to the solution. When curiously passionate founders cannot stop themselves from doing everything in their power to engineer the solution to a problem deeply personal to them.

Here’s a simple way to think about it, using an equation most scientists are familiar with.

F = ma

Or otherwise, known as Newton’s second law. Force is the product of mass and acceleration. Think of force as the gravitational pulling force a founder has. Mass as the first impression a founder makes in meeting number one. Some permutation of their insights, their background and experience, and their domain expertise. And acceleration as the multiplicative velocity in which the founder learns. Subsequently, we have an equation that looks more or less like this:

Founder-market fit =
(initial impression) x
(founder’s compounding rate of learning)

For investors, a good sign of that is when that passion is contagious in the first meeting. And founders learn incredibly quickly (as a function of action) in every consecutive one after. The gravitational pull a founder brings where you just want to put down everything to listen to them. As investors, we love paying for that world-class education.

Photo by Tobias Seidl on Unsplash

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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.

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