Interviewers I Really Respect and Why

podcast

I’ve always been fascinated by how to get to the bottom of things. Yes, you can do your homework into the data, but at the end of the day, you have to go back to people and their experience.

Jeff Bezos has this line: “The thing I have noticed is that when the anecdotes and the data disagree, the anecdotes are usually right. There is something wrong with the way that you are measuring it.”

So, when it comes down to finding the right anecdotes, I’m a big believer that asking the right questions gets you most of the way there. It’s why I started the DGQ series on this blog. Naturally, I spend a lot of time studying others who are better at the craft than I am. After all, I have a long road ahead of me. While this is obviously useful in the context of my podcast, studying the best interviewers has also helped me when:

  • Listening to founder and GP pitches
  • Doing diligence
  • Interviewing potential candidates for a role
  • Making friends
  • Small talk
  • Coffee chats / when asking for advice
  • And of course, when doing research.

So while you may not have a podcast — or maybe you do — I hope you find the below useful in regards to other aspects of your life.

What is the callback? A callback — a term quite often used in the comedy circuit — is an allusion to something previously brought up in conversation. It’s not only a sign that you’re actively listening, but that you’re actively engaging in the flow of the conversation. For instance, say you hear someone bring up a quote they liked recently. For the purpose of this example, it’s Amos Tversky‘s line. “You waste years by not being able to waste hours.” Then later in the conversation, they say the last hour flew by so quickly. Then a callback could come in the form of, “Better than wasting a year with me.”

Conan O’Brien is world-class at this, if not best-in-class. If you watch his show or his podcast, you’ll see multiple examples. But probably best illustrated in just the number of times he did it in one episode, I’d recommend his episode with Larry David.

The first question in a conversation is often the hardest, but also has the greatest impact towards the rest of the conversation. Getting someone to put down their guardrails without pre-established rapport is really, really hard. It’s why podcasters and TV show hosts alike have pre-chats, where they spend time with each guest to warm them up.

It’s for that reason I have a lot of respect for Sean Evans who hosts Hot Ones. The number of times his guests have responded to his questions with “How did you know that?” and “You really did your research” or “I’ve never been asked that before” is a refreshing take in a world where talk show interviews are just a formality for a celebrity’s road show. And not only does the style and how Sean ask questions set the show apart from literally every other interview that celebrities go on, you can see how his first few questions help him build instant rapport with a guest whether or not they knew each other well before.

That said, I’d be hard-pressed to find just one as he’s able to execute well for most episodes of Hot Ones already. If you’re short on time, the only ones I find to be little less helpful, at least to see the mutual banter, are probably the ones where he’s interviewing himself, or a fictional character (i.e. Donald Duck or himself), or the guest and him go through less than 10 chicken wings (aka the full gauntlet).

Despite having hosted a number of fireside chats, when I first started Superclusters, I was obsessed with hitting every question I had prepared. An internal expectation that because the podcast is a public asset and is likely to be online till the end of time made me feel I had to cram as much information into each interview as possible. The funny thing is I still didn’t end up covering the lion share of questions.

For each episode, I end up preparing anywhere between 10 and 30 questions. Yes, you read that latter number right. And yes, for a roughly hour-long podcast. Naturally, there’s no way in hell I’d get to the vast majority of questions, but in mind, I had an internal drumbeat that I felt compelled to keep on pace with.

The more I talked with other seasoned podcasters, the more I realize that while others may not prepare as much research as I do before each interview, the best ones let the conversation flow. They ask great follow-up questions. They spend time on the nuance of words, phrases, even micro-reactions and flinches when guests speak or hear something. One of the most useful pieces of advice I got from a friend, Erica Wenger, was to do all the research you humanly can before each recording. Then, ask the first question, and throw the rest out the door. Which I’ve since internalized.

Tim Ferriss is my favorite on this front. And he does this for almost every single one of his episodes. That said, if you’re looking for a starting point, his episode with Eric Ripert was the first one I actually sat down with pen and paper purely to take notes on how Tim follows up with each of Eric’s comments.

By a friend’s recent recommendation, I also stumbled across The Diary of a CEO podcast. I will admit that the first few episodes I came across I found less interesting from a content perspective. But when three episodes later, I tuned into his episode with Marc Randolph, and holy cow, the depth of questions was clearly a cut above the rest, specifically around when Marc had to step down as CEO of Netflix. And you can just see Steven Bartlett asking one great question after the next.

The fallacy with many rookie podcasters, admittedly my own rookie mistake as well, is that the host doesn’t push back on the guest’s answers enough. When an answer just isn’t good enough. Either the one answering dodges the question or kept their answer too broad.

Hasan Minhaj is my go-to person on this front as he’s incredible at pushing back thoughtfully, which is a really hard thing to do. One of my favorite interviews he did by far was the one he did with Kevin O’Leary on FTX, which Kevin personally invested in.

I can’t say I got this from any one podcaster, but actually something I learned from my time as a competitive swimmer. For every race we competed, we had to practice sets of twice the distance regularly. Even more so, we had to practice with a handicap, focusing on refining the technique for only part of our body. Be it legs only, or arms only, hell we even swam with our goggles black-sharpied out before. To us, these were drills that would help prepare us for the real thing.

As a podcaster, in case you couldn’t tell, I’m still a work-in-progress. Likely will always be. That said, one of the most helpful ways I’ve found to practice the art of asking questions (since I’m not in race mode every day) is I often listen to the above shows, hear the host ask the question. Then wait for the guest to respond. Then right before the host asks another question, I practice what I would say and where I’d interrupt. And only after I’ve said my response aloud, do I press play again and see what the host would say.

To me, those are the drills I run through when I can to prepare myself when I am eventually on camera. Other times, it’s just fun to see how my response or line of questions would differ from some of these other hosts.

I’ve often given the excuse that I’m a better writer than I’m a speaker. Which may be true. I often sit with myself during the editing process and wince at words I’ve used or using some complex language to explain what could have been a 140-character question. And the truth is, I’ve held myself back. By giving that very excuse. So now I am earnestly trying to improve. To close that gap, that delta between the way I write and the way I talk. At least from a proficiency standpoint. It may take me a while. But I appreciate every one of you being on this journey with me. And if there’s any advice you can share along this path, as some of you are further along, I’m all ears.

I hope the next time I write something like this, I’ll be further along. And maybe… just maybe, find myself circa today to be embarrassing to watch and listen to.


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.

Angels who are Useless to Founders

angel. statue, broken

This may very much be the hill I end up dying on as an angel. I also realize that the title of the blogpost itself is ionically charged. But it’s something I feel strongly about.

Two caveats.

One, this is going to be one of my more strongly worded blogposts. I don’t write many of these. It doesn’t give me joy to “call” people out. If you’re a reader to this blog for the more mild-mannered Cup of Zhou, I’ll see you next week. 🙂

Let’s just say I’m writing this out of frustration after chatting with a founder who hit all the below red flags. But more importantly, frustration at myself for not recognizing the below a mile away when I took the meeting. And the opening 2 questions for that meeting was can you share what you do? and what do you invest in? Both of which are quite evident on my LinkedIn. Moreover the cold outreach came via LinkedIn.

Two, I’m a small check angel. And this may not apply if you write north of a $100K angel check or a $250K LP check. You’re likely also excluded from this hill I’ll die on if you don’t have the network that would alert you on deals on a regular basis.

That said, if you’re a small check investor like me AND you have a decent network, any founder who doesn’t know exactly why they want you on the cap table outside of money is probably not a founder worth your time.

Why?

  1. To them, you’re just another check, and not THE check. Whatever wrapper they put on things, you’re dumb money to them. Now, it’s not about feeling self-important. In fact, don’t delude yourself on your importance. It’s about being valuable, outside of the money. The early stages of company-building are so crucial that you really need all hands rowing in the same direction. Any hands that are idle, or worse, rowing in the opposite direction, is a waste of time, attention and resources.
  2. They don’t know what they want. They don’t know the critical needs of the business. Is it talent? Is it getting to $1M ARR and developing a sales strategy? Is it scaling past product-market fit? Is it finding product-market fit? And because they don’t, they don’t know what they need help in. And any non-surgical answer, including terms relative to broad strokes, is a dud.
  3. And in many ways, because of the above reasons, you’re wasting your dollar. The best founders are surgical and intentional to a fault. They’re also some of the best salespeople in the world. And they will make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world (whether actually true or not, but sometimes, even that doesn’t really matter). Because if they can win you over, they have a great batting average of winning key customers over.

FYI, also probably not worth your time if they:

  1. Say you specialize in XX industry is not enough. Anyone can guess that at a glance at your LinkedIn. Even more so, if you’ve made it explicit.
  2. Spend more time pitching to you than asking you questions to understand your values and what you’re interested in. They’re more interested in what comes out of their mouth than by how much reaches your ears.
  3. Say you’re valuable for intros you can make. LinkedIn doesn’t tell people the strength of your first degree connections. For better or worse, I’m connected with a lot of people. Product of me being a bit too liberal with inbound connections early on. But it doesn’t mean I know them all equally as well. In fact, intros for a founder as an investor are table stakes. You must either be best friends with key decision makers/customers or downstream investors, or it’s really not as useful. And that only comes out if the founder spends time getting to know you, as listed in the second point above.

Ever since I added “Angel investor” to my LinkedIn profile, I’ve received a lot of noise. Quantity of deal flow went up by maybe 10-20 per week (and some weeks where I post something or get tagged in something that gets 5K+ impressions, that inbound deal flow from LinkedIn doubles if not more). But I’d say 95% of that are deals I would never invest in. Either since it’s out of scope, stage, check size, or just type of founder. Which at some point, when I remember to and I’m not typing this on my little 6×3 inch screen, I’ll have to redact that title, “Angel investor.”

Deal flow has become easy. But easy doesn’t mean good. The truth is, I’d rather mean a lot to a few than a little to a lot people.

And by the way, the same is true, if you’re a small check LP.

At the end of the day, as a founder (or emerging GP), it’s about finding your early believers. Those who choose to stand by you not just because everything’s going up and to the right. But those who will stand by you when shit hits the fan.

I was watching the latest episode of Hot Ones (yes, this is my guilty pleasure), where Sean is interviewing Will Smith, and Will shares that there are three kinds of friends in your life that you call at 3AM.

  1. One kind of friend looks at the phone and pretends to be asleep.
  2. A second kind of friend that picks up the phone that makes you feel bad for being in trouble.
  3. And the third kind is putting their pants on while they’re answering the phone.

You want the third kind.

It also harkens back to the same conversation Aakar, Ho, Vignesh, and I had two weeks ago. Believing comes from faith. And faith comes not just from where you are today, but where you will go. And that is established on Day 1.

To get early believers, you have to show you care. You have to give (even if it means your time, attention, and/or enthusiasm/interest), before you get. That is as true for investors as it is for customers.

Photo by Jon Tyson 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.

#unfiltered #74 What If Events Were Story Arcs?

castle, story, boat

“Somewhere along the line is a voice deep within you that tells you exactly who you are; you just have to have the courage to do that. That’s what the journey of the hero is all about. You’re born into a world where you don’t fit in. You answer the call to adventure. And you deny the call. Then at some point you then set out on your path. You slay dragons, and you do all of that. At some point, you come face-to-face with not a god, but yourself. Somewhere along the line, you get it — your A-ha moment. Your elixir. And you go back to your ordinary world and share it with others. I think that’s the journey. I think that’s the privilege of being absolutely who you are — belonging to yourself and being brave.”

That’s the arc of every great story in the words of Viola Davis on one of my new favorite interviews with Sean Evans, where she shares the secret to the hero’s journey.

In the world post-pandemic, people crave connection. A desire to go from URL to IRL. Everyone lost those years. Something everyone from a first grader to a college student to a young professional entering the workforce to a retiree could relate to. And in 2021, there was a re-emergence of events. Well-intentioned and well-founded. We had conferences, coffee chats, happy hours, fireside chats, oh, so many happy hours, panels, tech weeks, and… did I mention happy hours?

Most events out there are a time and a place for a collection of people. They’re static points in time. Not even counting the full spectrum of event planners, many of the best event planners spend tons of times on what makes events special, but change more about the small bells and whistles of an event than the overall flow. There are very few who take leaps of faith. Even less true for the vast majority of events, where events feel more of an afterthought than something that is designed to start or end a chapter in your life.

As such, everyone found themselves left with a goodie bag including a surplus of events, a lack of focus and attention, and a lollipop of exhaustion.

So, I had a thought last year, greatly inspired by my team at On Deck Angels. Instead of trying to host an event a month, what would need to change if we could only do one event a year? What would we have to do? Hell, extrapolating further, what if we only did one event every two years? Three years? Every Olympic arc? Which led to the thinking around, what do we need to do to make this the most memorable event that anyone has ever been to.

You see, I’ve hosted and co-hosted small and large-scale social experiments, but it was always for an audience who proactively and voluntarily signed up for. They were willing to do things outside the ordinary. But could I apply the same learnings to events for really, busy people who crave intellectual challenges, and who have been to so many events, they might be jaded?

So, below was and continues to be my collection of governing thoughts around answering that question, which will only grow and refine this year. In the theme of my blogpost last week, the below may be messy. Disorganized. Chaotic, even. Hope not, but possible. You’ve been warned. But I do hope that you might find at least one of the below frameworks useful.

Metrics for success

Every event needs a North Star. When planning the Angel Forum, as well as future events, below are mine.

  1. Attendees go on a hero’s journey, revisiting Viola Davis’ words above. In other words, character development. The event should create opportunities for growth within the event itself.
  2. Every attendee continues to and is motivated to build friendships (as opposed to networking and purely transactional connection) after the event. If the event itself is the only reason for people to connect, but it does not give people incentive to after, it’s a failure (in my books).

For now, that means, not only the speakers and the presenters need to be curated, but also each and every person on the guest list. I have yet to figure out how to customize such experiences at scale, where each person has wildly different goals.

Narrative frameworks I use for events

To dig a level deeper, here are my frameworks for execution:

  1. Surprise and suspense — Surprise is when you relay information that the audience does not expect. Suspense is when you relay information that the audience is expecting, but does not know when it’ll drop. Suspense is how you keep attention. It raises expectation, but knowing when to deliver the news helps with creating a reality that meets or beats expectation. Surprise is, on the other hand, purely for creating alphas in this expectation-versus-reality model. It’s the main driver for overdelivering on a seemingly smaller, but still powerful promise. To do so, I find George Loewenstein’s 1994 paper on the psychology of curiosity super helpful. More on how the five triggers to curiosity influenced my thinking here.
  2. Candy versus the meal — A Malcolm Gladwell framework. Effectively, how people think and what people actually talk about are quite different. Candy is what people talk about. For example, if I were to talk about the recent Avatar movie, I’d talk about how amazing the motion capture and the CGI was. And in doing so, I’ve spoiled nothing. It tells you nothing about the plot, but it’s exciting to talk about. On the other hand, the meal is how people think. It’s the whole package, the whole story. The meal has to be well-worth the visit, but the candy is what gets people excited. More on that in a previous essay I wrote here.
  3. The audience must understand the rules of magic — This is a combination of the thoughts of Malcolm Gladwell‘s framework around tools and Brandon Sanderson’s three laws of magical systems. Give the audience tools to use at the very beginning of the event. It could be a framework for how to think about the event and every activity in between. It could be physical tools that they will employ throughout the event. And once you do, make sure your audience knows how to use those tools. Test them. Give them small, but easy case studies and questions. Make it easy. Don’t put them on the spot. And by completing that test, that satisfaction and joy will help motivate them to use it more later. As Sanderson’s first law of magic goes, “your ability to solve problems with magic in a satisfying way is directly proportional to how well the reader understands said magic.” More on my thoughts on Sanderson’s laws here.
  4. Plots — Like any good story, the narrative is governed by plots. The plot must thicken and build towards a climax. And it must be resolved by the end of the event. Leave little in the main plot to chance, but leave room for each guest to discover something extraordinary. Maintaining a minor amount of stress and uncertainty, while sharing examples and reminders of being open-minded to new experiences, goes a long way. Only after stepping outside one’s comfort zone can one grow.
  5. Always use the audience’s time in a way that does not feel wasted — Inspired by one of the greatest writers of all time, Kurt Vonnegut. I forget which lecture he did that I learned this from. But it’s always been a governing theme for what I do.
  6. End on an ending where the reader can imagine no other — No loose ends. Everything that is teased (whether the audience realizes it or not) needs to be resolved by the end. This might be a semi-controversial opinion among storytellers and creative professionals. But I’m biased. I like my stories to end with a bowtie.

In closing

As you might imagine, much of this is still incomplete. And I hope to share more as I continue down this path of exploration and discovery.

Photo by Artem Sapegin 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.


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!


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.

#unfiltered #60 There’s No Such Thing As Writer’s Block

writer, inspiration, ideas, creativity

Years ago, I remember reading somewhere, “Writer’s block is not that you don’t have any ideas. It’s when you don’t have ‘good enough’ ideas.” In my opinion, one of the greatest fatalities of the 2020s is not that people lack ideas. But people have a poor way of capturing ideas when ideas do come to them.

And in the theme of ideating in the busy world we live in today, I wrote a short thread earlier this week on the seven ways I capture ideas.

  1. I carry a physical journal almost everywhere I go. Personally opt for a nice, weighty journal that I can’t wait to write in (none of that spiral bound, thin page notebooks, but that’s personal preference).
    My favorite brands: Leuchtturm1917/ Moleskine
    Page density: >150 g/m2
  2. While I’m at it, a good pen. I prefer felt tip or fountain pen.
    Psychologists do say you tend to remember thoughts more if you physically write them out, over typing them out.
    For felt tip: Staedtler fineliners
    Fountain pen: LAMY
  3. Reserve a full page for every idea. Even if your idea is only one sentence, give it space so that in the future you can come back to it and flush it out. As the wise Ron Swanson once said, “Never half-ass two things. Whole-ass one thing.”
  4. Allocate at least 10 minutes to generate ideas. Even if you can’t think of anything for 10 minutes, sit through the whole 10. A few months ago, amidst a catch-up, a founder friend of mine – for lack of better words, a serial builder, having created more apps that I can count – shared with another friend and I something incredibly insightful about finding inspiration. “Not enough people give themselves bored time. To produce ideas, you have to give yourself time to be bored.” These days, I try to allocate 30 minutes of bored time.
  5. I have a whiteboard in my shower. Yes, I take shower thoughts seriously. In fact, this blogpost originated from a shower whiteboarding session earlier this week. I’m not really picky on brand here, since it’s just to get thoughts on a board as quickly as I can, but get rain-proof markers.
  6. Handwritten notes are notoriously hard to track. So, I have a 3-step process for this.
    1. I have a table of contents at the back of every notebook. Usually reserve 4 pages for that. In there, I write down, page #, title of each journal entry, and key/most thought-provoking content.
    2. By the time I finish each journal, I revisit the now-completed table of contents to highlight/circle what resonates with me the most from that table.
    3. A few months later or 1-2 journals later, I revisit the same table of contents, browse through what I highlighted/circled, and for those that STILL resonate, I port over to my Notion, which becomes more or less my evergreen knowledge/idea hub.
  7. When I’m completely lost or need inspiration, I find that the best way to generate ideas is to ask great questions. For questions on people and passions, I’m a big fan of Tim Ferriss and Sean Evans. For startup or VC questions, I love Harry Stebbings and Samir Kaji.
  8. As a bonus eighth tip which I didn’t include in the Twitter thread, if you are still stuck, I find the question “What is the most important question I should be asking myself today?” quite useful.

Some examples of things I write in my idea journal:

  • Startup ideas
  • New things I learned in the venture capital space
  • Blogpost ideas
  • Introspective thoughts
  • Phrases and vernacular that other people say or write that I really like
  • Great questions to ask myself or others
  • Recipes I come up with
  • Dreams
  • Riddles or puzzles
  • Short stories
  • Concept art

In sum, anything is fair game. The more I allow my mind to expand without constraints, the more I’m able to draw parallels between seemingly disparate data points and create new meaning. At least for myself.

In closing

I passed by another quote over the years, and the attribution escapes me. “If you have don’t have any ideas, read more. If you have ideas, write more.” I’d extend it even further by saying, when you have a deficit of inspiration, consume. Read and listen more. There is a plethora of content out there today. And they are all more accessible than ever – from books to podcasts to articles to videos. When you have a surplus of inspiration, produce. Write and do more.

Photo by Brad Neathery 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.


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!

#unfiltered #39 Five Lessons from Trying to Engineer Serendipity in a Virtual Environment

startups, spark, how to engineer serendipity, social experiments

Over the past few months, I’ve been slowly experimenting with how I can take Hidden Questions online, while not sacrificing the intimacy of the relationships it builds as well.

Hidden Questions started as a question game I played with friends and colleagues, which eventually expanded to other strangers. The goal of which was to deepen our friendship within minutes rather than weeks, months, or even years. In sum, a game where each person has to answer the question truthfully, but is not required to reveal what the question is. The catch is that if the person decides to conceal the question, they have to take a “punishment” (i.e. crazy hot sauce, disgusting foods, durian, Beanboozled jelly beans, etc.). Before they decide to or not, other participants can ask clarifying questions, as long as it’s not “Is X the question?”, and bet additional units of “punishment” if the answeree chooses to conceal the question. Of course, if the answeree does reveal, the people who bet will take the “punishment” instead.

Some references:

What’s changed?

After over 30 sessions in the past 3 months, a few things have been hotfixed since the in-person game:

  • One-time perishable links – While not the be all end all, vua.sh lets us create a “secret messages” where only the people with the link can access the question – and only once. Once the link is opened once, it’s dead. So, this gives folks a peace of mind knowing that no one can go back and find out what the questions are. The people who create these questions are the last group/individuals who play.
  • One-slide Powerpoint presentations, reminiscent of Jeopardy, with increasing risk/depth factor of questions, scaling punishments with question difficulty/depth.
  • Mailing the “punishments” to the people I’m playing with, like Sean Evans and his team does for their show, Hot Ones, where they mail their 10 hot sauces to their guest before the interview. This way, I can keep people accountable to the punishments
  • Zoom, or an equivalent web conferencing tool – Social distancing at its best. Even better now, ’cause I get to play with people outside the Bay Area as well.

The five lessons I learned

  1. Total conversation time virtually = 100%. Total conversation time in-person > 100%.
  2. First answer makes a difference.
  3. For group calls, preface with introspective intros.
  4. The “extroverts” take over.
  5. Take the bio break.
Continue reading “#unfiltered #39 Five Lessons from Trying to Engineer Serendipity in a Virtual Environment”