#unfiltered #11 What I Learned About Building Communities through Social Experiments – Touching Jellyfish, Types of Social Experiments, The Thesis, Psychological Safety and Fairness

jellyfish, social experiment, psychological safety, how to build a community
Are these jellyfish friendly or not? Will they “bite”?

As colorful and as beautiful jellyfish are, we are still scared of the possible danger that each possess. So, most of us only admire them from afar. And for many of us who have seen some, we’ve watched them float gracefully in dark blue aqueous solutions across a sometimes distorted film of glass. These beautiful mysteries of the deep blue.

To Touch the Jellyfish

Much like my fascination every time my parents brought me to the aquarium as a kid, I’ve been fascinated with the people around me. Especially about the thin, sometimes distorted, film between these exceptionally fascinating souls and me. The distortion created as a function of society’s, as well as their own, efforts.

Exactly a year and two months ago, I embarked on a journey to host small-scale social experiments, like:

  • Hidden Questions. A game where no one else knows the question, except for the person answering it. And where the person answering has the choice of sharing the question that inspired the answer or taking it to the grave by taking a shot of hot sauce (about a 700,000 on the Scoville scale, for reference) or a variable number of Beanboozled beans.
  • Brunches with Strangers. Quite literally, Saturday brunches with strangers. Hosting a cast of people from all walks of life. Like founders, street artists, astrophysicists, concept artists, athletes, criminal investigators, filmmakers, college drop-outs, and much more.
  • The Curious Case of Aliases. Where players (strangers to each other) under aliases guess each other’s hobbies, occupations, deepest fears, etc. after only playing in a 30-minute game session. For instance, skribbl.io. Cards Against Humanity. Codenames. And Mafia.
  • And, the most recent addition to my small Rolodex of social experiments, Improv Presentations. A TED talk-like night where people present someone else’s creatively esoteric slide decks, with no context as to what’s in the deck until they’re on “stage”. To the postmortem dismay of my cheeks and core, we saw everything from how to survive a cat-pocalypse to how to master the art of DM’ing using military tactics to how to be a good plant parent.

The Thesis, The Questions

As COVID would have it, the lack of in-person interaction and self-quarantine inspired the last two. Yet, all of which with the same thesis: helping make the world feel a little smaller, a little closer, and a whole lot more interesting. Starting not with the people who bathe in the limelight, but with the people directly around me.

Why is it so hard to be candid with strangers? And sometimes, even harder with family and friends?

Do we need alcohol, drugs, crazy incidents, violence, a lack of sleep, or stress to truly be ourselves?

Though not all-encompassing, people seem to be naturally curious about things, events, status, money, and gossip. Why aren’t people more curious about people – well, as just themselves? Like me, you’ve probably posed and have gotten the question: “How are you?” or “How are you doing?”. And likely, with more times than one is willing to admit, we didn’t really care about what the answer might be. Often times, since we know we’re just going to get a “Good” or “OK” in response.

If you want to have some fun, I highly recommend the next time someone asks you that, say “Terrible”. And watch the computer chip in their brain malfunction for a quick second.

What did I learn?

I won’t claim I found the universal truth or a holistic answer to any of those questions I posed above. Because I haven’t. After all, someone I really respect once told me:

“50% of what you know is true. 50% is false. The problem is you don’t know which half is which.”

So, in my life, my goals are two-fold:

  1. Build a system to help me discern my two halves of knowledge.
  2. Expand the total capacity of what I know.

I will share more on this blog as I am able to draw more lines of regression myself.

But in the context of this post, through social experiments, I’ve discovered that people yearn for psychological safety. Not only does Google’s Project Aristotle share its effectiveness in the workplace, it’s equally, if not more true, outside of it as well. The reason that it’s sometimes easier to share your thoughts and struggles with strangers is that strangers often won’t judge you to the same extent as friends and family do. Frankly, they don’t have much context to judge you from – implicitly and explicitly.

People want fairness. Not in the sense of you get 1 cookie, so I should get 1 too. But a fair system to be judged by. That I will get the same benefit of doubt as you will give to anyone and everyone else. When we all get drunk together, we will all be drunk and we will all relieve ourselves of any filters we may previously have. And though everyone’s drunk personality is different, and frankly everyone will still be judged… For that moment, that night, everyone’s on the same playing field.

The Applications

Let’s take most recent experiment with improv presentations as an example. The initial idea was that everyone should present their own slide decks. As serious or as silly as they might be. But some of my friends were hesitant. In their words, they felt they needed to “impress” or “have better public speaking skills”. Some simply said that they didn’t think they’d “be as good as others”.

Before our first “TED Talks@Home”, I shifted it altogether where we’d all be presenting each other’s presentation. All of us would have no context as to what we’re presenting until we get on “stage”. Whether we were experts on a specific topic or in comedy or deck-making, we’re all jumping into a bottomless pool together. After our second virtual improv night, this past weekend, between muted giggles and visual laughs, one of the presenters told me that it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be, and that she’d want to do it again.

Luckily, it seems more than 60% of my friends, colleagues, and acquaintances come back to participate in more brunches or game sessions or improv nights. 1 in 4 guests have proactively started friendships outside of the experiments. And about 5% have introduced their new friends to their friend circles. A small handful have also been inspired to start their own. So, maybe I’m doing something right.

Building Communities

The same (psychological safety and fair system) holds true for building communities, creating your corporate culture, and finding and keeping your friend group and your significant other. Although in the context of building communities, but applicable elsewhere as well, I forget who told me this once:

“A strong community has both value and values.”

– The person who told me this, please come claim this quote

Value is why people initially come out to join a community and admittedly, reach out to be a friend. Whether it’s because of who you know or what you can offer or how you can help them pass the time, it’s the truth. Values are why they stay. And safety happens to be one of those values.

In closing

As always, my findings aren’t meant to be prescriptive. But merely act as a guide – another tool in your toolkit – so that you are better equipped for future endeavors.

Like with people, when one day I get to touch a jellyfish, I don’t care about being stung. But I do want to know where I can touch where I won’t be stung. And subsequently, where I will touch where I know I will be stung. The difference between going in blind and not is that when I get stung, I am prepared to be.

Photo by Mathilda Khoo 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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Finding the Sweet Spot – Iterating What and How You Measure Product Metrics

iterating product metrics, measure, measuring tape

Many founders I meet focus on, and rightly so, optimizing their core metrics – a set of units that surprisingly don’t change after its initial inception. But metrics and the way you measure them should undergo constant iteration. Metrics are a way to measure and test your assumptions. 9/10 assumptions, if not all, are honed through the process of iteration. And by transitive property, the metrics we measure, but more importantly, the way we measure them, is subject to no less.

Though I’m not as heavily involved on the operating side as I used to be, although I try to, the bug that inspires me to build never left. So, let’s take it from the perspective of a project a couple friends and I have been working on – hosting events that stretch people’s parameters of ‘possible’. Given our mission, everything we do is to help actuate that. One such metric that admittedly had 2 degrees of freedom from our mission was our NPS score.

The “NPS”

“How likely would you recommend a friend to come to the last event you joined us in?” Measured on a 1-10 scale, we ended up seeing a vast majority, unsurprisingly in hindsight, pick 7 (>85%). A few 9’s, and a negligible amount of 5s, 6s, and 8s. 7 acted as the happy medium for our attendees, all friends, to tell us: “We don’t know how we feel about your event, but we don’t want to offend you as friends.”

We then made a slight tweak, hoping to push them to take a more binary stance. The question stayed the same, but this time, we didn’t allow them to pick 7. In forcing them to pick 8 (a little better than average) and 6 (a little worse than average), we ended up finding all the answers shift to 6s and 8s and nothing else. Even the ones that previously picked 9s regressed to 8s. And the ones who picked 5s picked 6s. Effectively, we created a yes/no question with just this small tweak.

There’s 3 fallacies with this:

  1. Numbers are arbitrary. An 8 for you, may not be an 8 for me. Unless we create a consolidated rubric that everyone follows when answering this question, we’re always going to variability in semi-random expectations.
  2. It’s a lagging indicator. There’s no predictive value in measuring this. By the time they answer this question, they’d already have made their decision. Though the post-mortem is useful, the feedback cycle between events was too long. So, we had to start looking into iterating the event live, or while it was happening.
  3. Answers weren’t completely honest. All the attendees were our friends. So their answers are in part, a reflection of the event, but also in part, to help us ‘save face’.

In studying essentialism, Stoicism, and Rahul Vohra‘s Superhuman, we found a solution that draws on the emotional spectrum that answered 1 and 3 rather well. Instead of phrasing our questions as “How much do you value this opportunity?”, we instead phrased them as “How much would you sacrifice to obtain this opportunity?” Humans are innately loss-averse. Losing your iPhone will affect you more negatively and for longer, than if you won a $1000 lottery.

So, our question transformed into: “How distraught would you be if we no longer invited you to a future event?”, paired with the answers “Very”, “Somewhat”, and “Not at all”. Although I’m shy to say we got completely honest answers, the answers in which we did give allowed for them to follow-up and supplement why they felt that way, without us prompting them.

The only ‘unaddressed’ fallacy by this question – point #2 – was resolved by putting other methods in place to measure attention spans during the event, like the number of times people checked their phone per half hour or the number of unique people who were left alone for longer than a minute per half hour (excluding bio breaks).

Feedback

“How can we improve our event?” We received mostly logistical answers. Most of which we had already noticed either during the event or in our own post-mortem.

In rephrasing to, “How can we help you fall in love with our events?”, we helped our attendees focus on 2 things: (1) more creative responses and (2) deep frustrations that ‘singlehandedly’ broke their experience at the event.

And to prioritize the different facets of feedback, we based it off the answers from the questions:

  • “What was your favorite element of the event?”
  • And, “How distraught would you be if we no longer invited you to a future event?”

For the attendees who were excited about elements closely aligned with our mission, we put them higher on the list. There were many attendees who enjoyed our event for the food or the venue, though pertinent to the event’s success, fell short of our ultimate mission. That said, once in a while, there’s gold in the feedback from the latter cohort.

On the flip side, it may seem intuitive to prioritize the feedback of those who were “Very distraught” or “Not at all”. But they exist on two extremes of the spectrum. One, stalwart champions of our events. The other, emotionally detached from the success of our events. In my opinion, neither cohort see our product truly for both its pros and cons, but rather over-index on either the pros or the cons, respectively. On a slight tangent, this is very similar to how I prioritize which restaurants to go to or which books to read. So, we find ourselves prioritizing the feedback of the group that lie on the tipping point before they “fall in love” with our events.

Unscalability and Scalability

We did all of our feedback sessions in-person. No Survey Monkey. No Google Forms, Qualtrics, or Typeform. Why?

  1. We could react to nuances in their answers, ask follow-up questions, and dig deeper.
  2. We wanted to make sure our attendees felt that their feedback was valued, inspired by Google’s Project Aristotle.
  3. And, in order to get a 100% response rate.

We got exactly what we expected. After our post-mortem, as well as during the preparation for our next event, I would DM/call/catch up with our previous attendees and tell them which feedback we used and how much we appreciated them helping us grow. For the feedback we didn’t use, I would break down what our rationale was for opting for a different direction, but at the same time, how their feedback helped evolve the discourse around our strategic direction. Though their advice was on the back burner now, I’ll be the first to let them know when we implement some element of it.

The flip side of this is that it looks extremely unscalable. You’re half-right. Our goal isn’t to scale now, as we’re still searching for product-market fit. But as you might notice, there are elements of this strategy that can scale really well.

In closing

Of course, our whole endeavor is on hold during this social distancing time, but the excitement in finding new and better ways to measure my assumptions never ceases. So, in the interim, I’ve personally carried some of these interactions online, in hopes of discovering something about virtual conversations.

Photo by Jennifer Burk on Unsplash


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