One of my favorite frameworks of thinking about building and breaking habits comes in the words of Elliot Berkman, whom I’ve cited before. He notes that there are three factors to breaking a habit.
The availability of an alternative habit
Strength of motivation to change
Mental and physical ability to break the habit
Of particular note is the second one. The strength of motivation to change. Change is inevitable. But real change is always compelling. There must be a strong enough desire to relieve yourself of the status quo. John C. Maxwell once said, “People change in four different seasons… People change when they hurt enough they have to, when they see enough they’re inspired to, when they learn enough that they want to, and when they receive enough that they’re able to.”
In each of those seasons, the person is compelled to do something outside of their ordinary flow of time. But there’s another interesting way to think about change. One where you have no choice but to.
CIA veteran Richards Heueronce wrote, “When faced with a major paradigm shift, analysts who know the most about a subject have the most to unlearn.” If there’s anything we can gather from historical records, major paradigm shifts are happening every decade (and less) whether we want to or not. On a macro scale, new technologies, like generative AI, the smartphone, and the internet, as well as political and financial eras, like the GFC, the dot com burst, and wars that affect the increasingly interconnected world. On a micro scale, when we go to college, get our first job, start our first company, raise a family, or buy your first house.
At each stage, the more entrenched you are in the behavioral patterns of the status quo, the harder it is to adjust with the next shift. For instance, as a founder, anchoring yourself on 2020-2021 multiples and valuations won’t help you in the world forward. As an investor, anchoring on the past 3-4 years of markups without fully accounting for the current climate won’t help you with your next raise. Anecdotally, I’ve heard great multi-fund managers mark their portfolio down by 25% already before the market verdict comes in. Moreover, jobs are going to look very different in an age of AGI (artificial general intelligence). Just like with the industrial revolution, new jobs will be created. And I can go on on and on. But I digress.
There’s a hero’s arc in each inflection point. Every time the second derivative goes from negative to positive. The way Viola Davis puts it that that at the end of every hero’s journey, you come face-to-face with not a god, but yourself. And that is when the magic happens.
“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.”
#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!
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.
This past Wednesday, I was having lunch with an artist-turned-VC. And as you might imagine, we had to cover every topic at the intersection of art and startup investing. But of all the ground we covered, one stood out — content creation.
She’s on the Gram, LinkedIn, and everything in between. (Although surprisingly not on Twitter.) But to help her focus, she uninstalls those apps on her phone. Otherwise, she says she’ll end up “doomscrolling.” I get it. In fact, many of my friends and colleagues have shared similar things as well. But…
I’m weird. At least among my friend group, I’m really weird. I’m terrible at social media. I’m an 80-year old stuck in a 27-year old body. At least on the social media front. I find it so hard to keep my attention on social. In fact, I schedule ten minutes three times a week to hold myself accountable to be on LinkedIn and Twitter.
So, when it came to sharing my thoughts and learnings publicly, it was a pretty easy decision. Of course, I eventually came to self-rationalize it as the ability to own my own piece of virtual real estate, but there are three more reasons I chose blogging rather than tweeting or social posting.
1. I write to think
I’ve written about this before so I won’t elaborate in length on my own rationale here, but share a few examples of others also holding it in high regard.
There’s only so much you can flush out in just 280 characters, or over any short post. And while some of my thoughts fully flushed out may only be that long or less, not having that restriction gives me peace of mind to not hold back.
One of my favorite George Orwell lines happens to be: “If people cannot write well, they cannot think well. And if they cannot think well, others will do their thinking for them.”
On that same wavelength on writing, Jeff Bezos makes Amazon execs write six-page memos. In most companies, team members often resort to PowerPoint presentations. Take anywhere between five and ten slides. Maybe less, maybe more. It’s much less thought out than a six-page dissertation. As Bezos says, “The reason writing a ‘good’ four page memo is harder than ‘writing’ a 20-page PowerPoint is because the narrative structure of a good memo forces better thought and better understanding of what’s more important than what.”
Equally so, it’s the same reason the best investors write memos for their investment decisions. My favorite public ones are Bessemer’s, which encapsulates much of their thinking at the time in amber. Turner Novak also turned his ability to write great memos to eventually raising his fund, Banana Capital. And the great Brian Rumao writes memos not just pre-investment, but also in his post-mortems where he gathers his learnings.
While I won’t go as far as to comparing myself to the afore-mentioned, I do find great pleasure and great learning from putting words on paper.
2. Longer feedback loop
My writing is more often a form of self-expression, self-curiosity, and self-discovery. So, unlike a product manager or founder who’s relentlessly testing and iterating on feedback, I enjoy longer feedback loops. I may start another content engine at some point that is for a particular audience, focused on feedback and iteration. But this humble piece of virtual estate will stay me. With no algorithm conditioning my attention span and yearn for external validation. That’s not to say I won’t ever (or have not ever) written things that you my awesome readers want, but it is only at the intersection of what you want and the what I enjoy writing about and asking others about that mint content here.
I also spend a lot of time thinking about audience capture, a term Gurwinder brought to my attention in an essay he wrote about Nikocado Avocado, which I also touched on in an essay I wrote near the end of last year.
I’m reminded by something Gurwinderwrote a few months ago about the perils of audience capture. In it, he shares the story of Nikocado Avocado, who lost himself to his audience, in a section of that essay he calls: The Man Who Ate Himself. He also shares one line that I find quite profound:
“We often talk of ‘captive audiences,’ regarding the performer as hypnotizing their viewers. But just as often, it’s the viewers hypnotizing the performer. This disease, of which Perry is but one victim of many, is known as audience capture, and it’s essential to understanding influencers in particular and the online ecosystem in general.”
3. The impermanence of social media
Most things on social media are ephemeral in nature. It’s designed to capture the moment, but not chronicle the moments. On Twitter, you can only pin one tweet. On Instagram, you can pin three. And on LinkedIn, only three are visible on the featured carousel, and include, five max before it takes you down another layer of friction to discover more.
There’s a level of impermanence which makes thoughts feel whimsical rather than evergreen. To use a phrase I recently heard Tim Ferriss use, the “durability of the signal seems to wane so quickly.” And that made my thoughts feel cheap.
That’s not to say every post I write has their weight in gold, but the searchability and the evergreen nature of my favorite blogposts (saved in my “About” tab) are the reasons I keep most of my thoughts here.
#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!
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.
In the wonderful world of venture, an investor takes a different kind of bet with each stage as a function of industry. For instance, a pre-seed SaaS product, it’s a distribution risk. Can this founder sell this product to others? In general, the angel or pre-seed round is often a founder bet. Can this founder or founding team pull off their vision? And subsequently, if they’re able to achieve their milestones in the funding window, will those milestones excite downstream capital?
One of the greatest byproducts in starting my career in venture as a scout — sending seed and Series A deals to those respective investors — was that I learned what archetypes of deals interested them. And what didn’t. As I moved even earlier in the funnel, so, pre-seed and seed, I could help founders and their teams set themselves up for the subsequent round.
Admittedly, that became a bit harder to do in the hoorah of 2020 and 2021 — with insane multiples and raises coming together as a function of FOMO.
When looking at the present day, mid-February of 2023, one in three or four deals in my inbox is a company raising a bridge. The bet here is an execution bet. Now before I get into the questions I consider when a founder pitches a bridge fundraise, I think it’ll be helpful to consider bridge rounds as a function of good and bad markets. And why they make more sense in a bull market, for better or worse, than in a bear market.
Bridge and venture debt
In a bull market, bridge rounds — or preemptive rounds, pick your nomenclature — and pay-to-play rounds make sense. The promise of capital within six months is extremely likely. Interest rates are low enough, where equity instruments have greater return potential than debt instruments. In a similar way, the same can be said for the premise behind venture debt. Venture debt (I am but an armchair expert at best, but have been lucky to query some of the best) is debt that is issued with the expectation of another round. At the same time, the warning label here is in a few-fold:
Many VCs prefer not to have investors higher than them on preference stack.
Subsequent equity raises are used to pay back venture debt first.
You have a 36-month repayment period usually, after if you decide to use the capital within the first 12 months or not.
There are usually warrants that ask for additional ownership in the company on top of the loan.
But I digress. In a bear market, bridge markets make less sense for an investor. Bridge rounds usually occur when teams miss expectations. They’ve missed milestones. Their burn rate was higher than expected. And their runway is naught but less than a year. It’s way the most common recommendation VCs gave their portfolio companies in 2022 was have at least a 24-month runway. You have more wiggle room to prove assumptions and get to an inflection point.
In a bull market, missing expectations is almost impossible. Sky high valuation multiples and funding rounds made capital cheap. When capital’s cheap, founders are more likely to spend with less discipline than otherwise. Moreover, consumers felt richer. Their net worth appreciated in a good economy. Interest rates lag inflationary signs. And the money is out of the pocket before it has time to warm up. Consumers also not only spend more, but they invest more. Companies saw greater revenue numbers and market cap growth, leading to more liberal spending habits. Greater market budgets to acquire customers. That spending led to high burn multiples.
This all led to a virtuous flywheel, that though growth and revenue numbers hit, the cost to get there also exponentially grew. The quality of businesses declined, as consumers and companies got used to the spending habits of the good times. Those same habits, unfortunately, don’t work in a recessionary market. And when founders are unable to part with their multiple in a boom market, and for many, the spend during that same market, they go to raise a bridge round instead of offering new equity, hoping they’ll, in some way, “make it work.” And yes, that’s the exact wording some founders used.
If investors have the chance to place new shots on goal, a lot of investors today are willing to bear the opportunity cost of passing on a bridge round.
Inflection points and lack thereof
Each new round is raised on the assumption your company is at an inflection point. Right as your second derivative shifts from negative to positive. To some businesses, that’s a market inflection. A (lucky) black swan event. A technological release. Or a regulatory easing. To others, it’s a traction inflection. Users just love your product. And to another cohort, not mutually exclusive to the afore-two inflections, is an insight inflection. You’ve learned something that’s going to catapult you so much further. For Duolingo in 2012, it’s the realization of going mobile. For Zynga, in 2010, it was its partnership with a rising class of platform usage, social media, namely Facebook.
On the other hand, for Airbnb, in 2011, its major competitor abroad, Wimdu raised $90 million to focus on its European expansion. That meant if Airbnb didn’t expand outside of the US, they would lose access to a whole market of Europeans but also Americans whose vacation destinations were one of the seven continents. To the Airbnb team, in the words of Jonathan Golden, their first PM, it was the realization that “marketplaces are normally winner-take-all markets” and “when competition comes after you, move ridiculously fast.” And they did.
Bridge rounds often don’t carry that same drive or momentum. It’s not raised at an inflection point, but rather in efforts to get to one. Usually it’s not proving a new assumption but last round’s assumptions. As I mentioned at the top, it’s an execution bet. And as such, it begs the question: How much conviction do I have that a founder is going to be a great steward of capital?
Fortunately or unfortunately, unlike most other early-stage round constructions, there are multiple data points. Have they used capital to date efficiently and effectively? If so, do I believe this founder will 10x their KPIs within this funding window?
Usually the funding window I allude to is 12 to 18 months. In the scenario of a bridge, that timeline becomes six months. The expectations are less forgiving and more aggressive. What are you building to in half a year? Do you have the discipline to execute on that goal? Does your track record corroborate? Do you have a detailed plan to get there?
In closing
IVP’s Tom Loverrorecently shared, “A half measure is usually something a management team lands on because it’s easy. If a decision is easy, it’s probably a half measure. If it’s hard, if it’s really damn hard… if it’s controversial, you’re probably doing enough of it. The other thing is a half measure often doesn’t have an end result or goal in mind. If you have a really specific goal, and implementing that goal is difficult, that’s probably doing your job. That’s probably what’s necessary.”
A bridge round, more often than not, is a half measure.
He goes on to say, “If it’s a good company, give them a lot of capital. If not, zero.”
This past week, I chatted with three institutional LPs, and three more venture investors about this topic. In five out of six conversations, one phrase made its appearance. “Don’t put good money after bad.” And while anecdotal, all six — every single one having participated in bridge rounds at some point in their investing career — concluded money was better spent in new investments than in bridge rounds. The caveat from these conversations was that it may work if you are either leading the round or setting the terms. Then again, that’s favorable for an investor, and may not be as much for the founders.
That said, I’m sure there’ll still be great companies raising bridges. But who knows… I await the day, not just in outliers, that we see bridge rounds trend otherwise. For that to happen, I agree with many of my colleagues that we need to see a lot more discipline from the average founder.
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.
The Earth has once again gone through another orbit around the only star within four light years from us.
In the past version of David, I’ve published many blogposts. Yet one of the most continual topics that owns real estate in my mind is the idea of the 99 unsolicited, but more importantly, non-googleable (figuratively speaking) pieces of advice. I’ve already published two blogposts on the respective topics of entrepreneurship and VC. And am now compiling more and an additional set of life hacks. I imagine, at some point, I will for other areas of my life I want to spend mind space on. Asking questions. Hosting interviews. Events. LP stuff. Just to name a few.
In other words, I am on a constant search for tactical pieces of insight in the corners of both the internet and safely kept (often unwittingly) in the grey matter in 7.8 billion locations. Or simpler, I want to know what others know.
I was listening to a podcast featuring James Clear earlier this year. And in it, he said something I completely agree with. “Almost every idea you have is downstream from what you consume. When you choose who you follow on Twitter, you’re choosing your future thoughts.”
In an age that offers us a wealth of information and a million topics, posts, comments, videos, and algorithms that will distract us, it becomes ever more prescient to be a great curator. It doesn’t even have to be for others. At the very minimum, for yourself.
The amount of time I’ve scrolled through metaphoric cat videos on YouTube is appalling. And I realize that whenever I do, I face a dry spell of ideas. Luckily only briefly.
As of now, the world’s top social media platforms’ algorithms work against us. It surfaces us content we are likely to enjoy. Content that is high likely to reinforce our confirmation bias, as well as availability bias of the world. And the biggest problem with that is we are fed cousins of the same information rather than new, and possibly dissenting information that would challenge our beliefs. After all, these apps’ goal is to keep us on the platform. Not to close the app and do something meaningful with our lives. I’m excited for the day we get to build our own algorithms for consumption. But for now, it has to be more manual.
James Clear also goes on to say in the same interview when Tim Ferriss asked how he chooses which books to read. “First thing is you got to be willing to quit books fast. If you have baggage around finishing books, then you’re just going to be stuck and you won’t move on quickly enough.”
I’m guilty of the counterfactual. I’ve long prided myself on seeing things through. In fact, I still do. But at least on the consumption part, I’m slowing down my rate of learning. This year, I’m going to start measuring the number of books, articles, and podcasts I fail to complete, as well as the number of long form content media (i.e. books, movies, articles, podcasts, etc.) that have inspired an idea or an output. The goal is to optimize for learning and insight rather than completion.
Since this is the first year I’m measuring it, I won’t be able to measure the delta. But I’ll leave this encased in amber for David v29.0 and future iterations.
Doing things that are unteachable
My sixth grade teacher once told me, “David, you should be proud [she] copied you. That means you have something worth copying.”
I, like many others, spent the first 22 years of my life copying and learning from someone else’s or multiple people’s playbook. And often still do. The four years after I worked on being different. From the words of someone I look up to, “Be interesting and interested.” Where I put more effort into being interesting — doing interesting things, having interesting perspectives, asking interesting questions. I worked to create things worth copying. And when I started this blog, I followed that same ethos. I did and will continue to do my best to share my findings and takeaways. So that others won’t have to fall through the same potholes as I did.
At least, that was my belief until December 8th last year.
I hosted an event. An event I’ve never been more excited to host. An event where I was intentional about as many details as I could. And a byproduct of being in the flow state at least twice a week. While I’ll likely spend another blogpost taking a deeper dive on this topic, it occurred to me that events, just like any other medium of consumption — movies, books, podcasts, shows, and so on — should be stories. And every story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. But more importantly, every great story has:
An inciting incident — something that compels the protagonist to leave their current timeline to embark on something spectacular
A main plot (with sometimes multiple side plots)
Character development — the protagonist, as well as other characters, grow over the arc of the story
An ending where the reader (viewer or listener) can imagine no other (tipping my hat to Robert McKee)
And to use the reader (et al’s) time in a way that is not wasted (tipping my hat to Kurt Vonnegut)
To my joy, it was as great if not greater than expected. The feedback was phenomenal. In my excitement and post-event high, I shared with many friends, colleagues, and family about how I thought about the event.
And to my dismay, while most were happy for me, a friend told me:
“You’re built different. I could never do what you do.”
In subsequent days, two other friends told me the same.
And it reminded me of something John Fiorentino once said. “The things that are going to be valuable are the things you can’t teach or copy.” While I was initially dismissive of this corollary, I now realize there might be some truth to it.
So, how does that change the stories I’ll share here or anywhere? In the past few years, every time I do something new, there ‘s usually a voice in the back of my head that asks me, “How would you catalog this adventure on your blog? What would be the title of the blogpost? What kind of title works best for SEO?”
Going forward, I’m going to ask that voice to hush. Not to say I won’t share my learnings, but I’ll preface now that my future writings may not be written for search engine optimization. It’ll be raw. And from title to body, a truer expression of what I want to share.
So where do I go from here?
I’ve hedged to be fair my entire professional career. I’ve done tons, which on paper, seems like a lot, but I’ve never fully spent time immersing myself in only one thing. And nothing but one thing. I’m context switching all the time, which probably means I live 20-30% less of a day than a focused person.
So I’m going to have to take more risks. ‘Cause I’m starting to believe that in order to do something that cannot be copied, I’m gonna need to focus more.
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.
“Magic is just spending more time on a trick that anyone would ever expect to be worth it.” —Penn & Teller
Five years ago, back in 2018, I would have never guessed. But I fell in love with the soles of another person’s feet. And I knew this was going to be one of the most tenacious people I’d ever meet.
I was introduced to “Ben” by a dear friend with one line, “No one can outhustle him.” “Ben” grew up with an insatiable appetite to learn, in a village located on the outskirts of Cairo. He would spend many days and nights in conversation with village experts and the village library, until one day he noticed he learned all he could have.
It just so happens that there’s a two-hour bus to Cairo that comes once a week. And that was how he found the libraries in Cairo, where he realized his interest in AI. But due to the bus’ odd schedules, instead of riding it, Ben chose to instead walk ten hours to Cairo every week. He’d then download, read, and print (to bring back to his village) as many Stanford PhD research papers on AI as possible. Sleep overnight at the bus stop. Then the next day, walk ten hours back to his village, where he’d continue with his reading for the week with all the loose leaf papers he had.
Needless to say, he had the feet to show for it.
I shared that story with a friend two days ago at the perennially-packed Superhot. We were chatting about the traits we look for in founders we back and the questions we ask to get there. The latter of which I’ve written about before. And at the early stages, the chief thing we look for is grit. There’s a tweet I stumbled on this week summarizes that rather nicely:
The problem is it’s so hard to see if a founder has the qualities of a “white belt who never quit” in just one meeting, even a few meetings. So, instead of sharing what questions we ask founders — most of which I know are designed to be reveal tells of grit, and are at least to my friend and his team, proprietary to some degree — I’ll share why grit matters, not just as a founder trait, but as a variable in the fundraising process, and a story that I hope will inspire you.
Candy versus the meal
One of the frameworks I love thinking about is the difference between how people think and what people talk about. This is by no means original. I actually stumbled across this when watching Malcolm Gladwell on Masterclass. For instance, when people watched the most recent Avatar movie, they didn’t say “Here’s the plot of the movie.” They talk about their favorite scenes or how great the performance capture was for underwater sequences. Neither is all-encompassing of the movie, but it gets people excited. That’s what word of mouth is.
Malcolm Gladwell calls it the meal and the candy, respectively. The meal is how people think — what people take home. They sit down with it and take time to process. The candy is what people talk about. The parts of the narrative that are easiest to share and remember.
From a go-to-market presentation I did earlier this year
Candy without the meal is clickbait. A meal without the candy means no one will talk about the good work you do. So you need both.
Similarly, in the world of venture, when I, like most other investors get excited about a deal, assuming it’s a good one, don’t talk about the whole pitch deck. Neither do I get super excited about sharing the one-liner unless it’s actually something unique. Like when a bike-sharing company pitched their one-liner as “We make walking fun.”
What I talk about is what’s cool and what stands out. That’s the investor’s word of mouth. And that’s how you fill a round. Or get people excited to help you find investors who will. Things I shared before include:
“That startup that hit 130% net retention.”
“Customers literally write love letters to the founders.”
“That founder cold emailed a Disney exec for 300 days straight to inevitably close their first enterprise deal.”
“This founder started a podcast as a growth engine to 1/ secure his first 10 customers, 2/ bring on one of the best advisory board I’ve seen to date.”
As you might notice, it’s almost impossible to guess what each company does above with just what I shared. And it sure as hell doesn’t get investors to conviction with just that. But they’re powerful enough for investors to take a second look at and talk about. Among the above, the absolute favorite thing investors love to talk about with each other is a founder’s ability to hustle. And subsequently, their Herculean efforts that demonstrate grit.
Years later, my friend on Wednesday was still talking about a founder he backed who waited in the cold outside an exec’s office until he got a meeting. Then found unique ways to turn 20 minutes into 30 minutes into hours into their first enterprise client.
The thing is it’s rare to see this. Most people promise that they will, but the best founders have demonstrated this grit time and time again before, against seemingly impossible odds. And they’re only “impossible” if you’ve set lofty goals in the past and you did nothing short of your best to try and achieve it. I’ll give another example. One that I knew if he was to start another business, you knew he was going to make it happen.
Spoiler alert: He did.
From losing everything to acquisition
I first met Anthony at 1517 Fund’s quincentennial “anniversary” summit back in 2017, designed to bring together the world’s most divergent thinkers.
The first thing you notice about Anthony is that he had a small frame. A demeanor that belied his life experiences and the courage it took for him to share them. Yet, he has a way to command the attention of his audience.
He started his business back in freshman year of college delivering food to his fellow classmates at USC. It started off as a side hustle to earn some spare change. Something he didn’t expect would become something greater, until one day Mark Cuban came to USC to give a talk.
As the fireside chat ended sooner than expected, Mark polled the audience, “What if we did a live Shark Tank?” Anthony explained that while unsure if it’ll work, but not wanting to let a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity go, he decided to pitch this idea he’d been working on — which at that point, was not even an app, but just a series of text messages between friends who ordered food and friends who were willing to deliver them.
To his surprise, Mark loved it. Soon that snowballed into Anthony dropping out of school to focus on the business full-time. They got into 500, and he became a Thiel fellow. But one spring later, amidst the hype of a party in Vegas, he miscalculated a dive into the pool. Fractured his spine. And became paralyzed from the neck down.
In the ensuing months, his top priority was not to grow what became EnvoyNow, but to breathe, to drink water — to survive. His co-founders had promised him they would look after the business and that he should focus on recovery. So he did. Months passed. And while Anthony still sat in the occasional company meeting, he was focused on mobility and feeding himself.
A few more months passed by, and one day, his co-founders decided to visit him while he was still focused on recovering. And they broke the news. The business was stalling. Investors had lost faith. Moreover, both his co-founders had already lined up new opportunities and wanted to close the business down.
As I sat listening, I couldn’t help but wonder what I’d do in that situation. Anthony instead decided to go back full-time to the business and win back his remaining team and investors. He said, “I went back to our investors. I shared where we were at, which wasn’t good. And asked them to believe in me once more. They did once before, and as long as I showed I was still passionate about the business, I was banking on the hope that some will still continue to support us.” Luckily, a small handful did.
With renewed drive and determination, and a tough situation to get out of, within the year, they expanded to 16 schools and employed 1500 students around the nation. The rest is history. They sold to JoyRun. And Anthony went on to found more companies, including his current one, Vinovest, which he started 2019 and raised an A in 2021.
If you’re curious about the additional details to the story, there’s also a great 2017 Fortune piece cataloging his journey. I love the line Blake Masters, President of the Thiel Foundation, shared in that piece, “Good luck finding something that will hold [Anthony] back.”
In closing
There’s a fun little thought exercise a couple investors I know used to do (maybe still do). They first posed the question to me when I first jumped into venture, which is:
If you had two young founders… One went to MIT, graduated with a 4.0 GPA in computer science, and was summa cum laude. The other is a high school graduate, and instead of paying over $200,000 over 4 years, took every single MIT computer science course on Coursera in one year. All else held equal, who would you invest in?
Naturally, the answer biases towards the latter. Yet, in the past few years, or at least since I’ve been in the world of VC, there’s been a bunch of logo shopping and chasing the idea of “signal.” While no one says is explicitly, logos have become more important than the hustle.
Today, we’re in a tough market. One where we haven’t seen the light at the end of the tunnel. Hell, we don’t even know when we’re at the trough yet. Or at least, the lagging indicator that we are is a massive slowdown or lack of layoffs. Yet, we recently saw Google, as well as Microsoft and Amazon, go through cuts.
And so, it no longer matters who you’re backed by or where you’ve come from. As Engineering Capital’s Ashmeet Sidana said, “A company’s success makes a VC’s reputation; a VC’s success does not make a company’s reputation. In other words to take a concrete example, Google is a great company. Google is not a great company because Sequoia invested in them. Sequoia is a great venture firm because they invested in Google.”
What matters is that you can make it out the other side. What matters is that you’re inventive and creative, that you can tighten your belt and put the pedal to the metal, and do what looks in retrospect as superhuman.
And that requires perseverance and the ability to learn. That requires spending more time on something than anyone would ever expect to be worth it. As you do so, you embark on what VCs call — insight development.
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.
“‘Mutation’ is simply the term for a version of a gene that fewer than 2 percent of the population has. […] Imagine enough letters to fill 13 complete sets of Encyclopaedia Britannica with a single-letter typo that changes the meaning of a crucial entry.” A fascinating line from David Epstein. One that makes you pause and think. I apologize that this is where my mind wanders to every time I read something that stops me cold in my tracks. The world of startups, at least in fundraising, is no different.
Let me elaborate.
While this is rather anecdotal, the average VC I know takes 10 or less first meetings in any given week. As an average of 500 emails land in their inbox every week, that’s a 2% chance of having your cold message land you a meeting. And that’s not even counting the heavy bias towards warm intros. In other words, to get noticed, you have to stray from the norm. A variant. A mutation.
The good news about being a mutated monkey with two left ears and an overbite hosting two dozen fangs is that unlike in nature, you can genetically modify and give birth to a mutated product of your choosing. While I probably could’ve used more floral language, I realize I’m also not writing a rom com, but a documentary capturing the cold realities of an investor’s virtual real estate. That has more eyes trying to peer into it than it has time, space, and most importantly, attention to open doors.
Your appearance on that stake of land is your debutante ball. The question is how will you grace the ballroom floor among a sea of people who have access to the same town tailors, dressmakers, and dance instructors as you do. A name. A subject line. And at most 50 characters to make a first impression.
The short answer is you don’t.
I also understand that in writing a piece on how to stand out in an investor’s inbox, I run the risk of sounding like every other Medium article who’s covered this topic before me. So, instead of sharing the five steps to get every investor to open your email, I’m going to share three examples, starting with some initial frameworks of how and some of my favorite thought leaders think about narratives.
As a compass for the below, I’ll share more about:
For the purpose of this essay, I’ll focus on cold emails, rather than warm intros. But many of the below lessons are transferrable.
The investor product
Blume’s Sajith Pai recently wrote a great piece detailing on what he calls the investor product. And how that is different from the content product — what customers see and hear — and the internal comms product — what your team members see and hear. Even in my own experience, I see founders often conflate at least two. They bucket it into the internal story… and the external story — bundling, ineffectively, the investor and content product.
In short, the investor product is the narrative that you tell your investors. A permutation of your personality and your vector in the market in a sequence you think investors find most compelling. That narrative, while not mutually exclusive, is different from the story you tell your customers. For customers, you are the Yoda to their Luke Skywalker. For investors, you’re the Anakin to the Jedi Order. The future.
Not all pitches are created equal
Just like expository writing differs from persuasive writing which differs from narrative writing, there are different flavors of fundraising pitches as well. Kevin Kwokboils it down to three.
Narrative pitches: What could be. What does the future look like?
Inflection pitches: New unveiled secrets. In Kevin’s words, for investors, “now is the ideal risk-adjusted time to invest.” Why is the present so radically different? Why is the second derivative zero?
Traction pitches: Results and metrics. How does the past paint you in glorious light? Admittedly, people rarely index on the past. So, traction pitches are on decline. It’s akin to, if someone were to ask, “What is your greatest accomplishment?” You say, “It has yet to happen.”
The truth is most early-stage founder pitches are narrative pitches, focused on team and vision. But the most compelling ones for VCs are inflection ones. One of my favorite investor frameworks, put into words by the an investor in the On Deck Angels community, is:
Do I believe this founder can 10x their KPIs within the funding window?
The funding window is defined as usually 12 to 18 months after the round closes. And usually the interim time before a venture-scale company goes out to raise another round. In order to 10x during the next 12 to 18 months, you have to be on either a rising market tide that raises all boats, or more importantly, the beginnings of the hockey stick curve in your product journey. Do you have evidence that your customers just love your product? For instance, for marketplaces, that could be early organic signs as demand converts to supply. In other cases, it could be the engagement rate post-reaching the activation milestone.
What channel does the pitch land in
While the message — the narrative — is important, the channel in which the pitch is received is just as, if not more important. As Reid Hoffmanonce wrote, “the cold and unromantic fact is that a good product with great distribution will almost always beat a great product with poor distribution.”
The truth is that email is a saturated channel.
While Figma’s Naira Hourdajian notes that this applies to any form of communications, not just politics, she put it best, “Essentially, when you’re working in politics, you have your earned channels, owned channels, and your paid channels.”
Owned — Anything you control on your own channels. Your website, blog, your own email, and in a way, your own social channels.
Paid — Anything you put out into the world using capital. For instance, ads.
Earned — Because others are not willing to give it to you and that it is their real estate, you have to earn it. Like press and in this case, others’ email inboxes.
On an adjacent point, the thing is most founders don’t spend enough time and effort on owned and earned channels when it comes to the content product. Both are extremely underleveraged. Many think, especially outside of the context of fundraising, and within go-to-market strategies, think paid is the only way to go. While powerful, it is the channel that carries the most weight post-product-market fit. Not pre-.
In the context of fundraising, I always tell founders I work with to always be fundraising, just like they should always be selling. There’s a saying that investors invest in lines, not dots. But the first time you pop up in someone’s inbox is, by definition, just a dot. Nothing more, nothing less. Rather, you should start your conversations with your future investors before you kickstart your fundraising. Ask for advice. Host events that you invite them to. Interview them on a podcast or a blogpost. Feature them in a TikTok reel. (Clearly, I spend the bulk of my time with consumer startups).
As you might have guessed, sometimes it has to be outside of the inbox. To get their attention, there are two ways you can pick your channel:
Target powerful channels in an innovative way,
Target powerful, but neglected channels,
And, target new and upcoming channels.
As such, I’ll share an example for each.
Powerful channel used in an innovative way: Email
In one of Tim Ferriss’ 5-Bullet Friday newsletters recently, I found out that Arnold Schwarzenegger handwrites all his emails.
Source: Tim Ferriss’ 5-Bullet Friday — Jan 13, 2023
It’s brilliant. Genius, I might say. I don’t know how much intentionality went into why Arnold does so, but here’s why I think it’s brilliant.
If you’re sending it to someone who owns a Gmail, you’ve just given yourself 100% more real estate (albeit ephemeral) in their inbox. If their inbox is set on Gmail’s default view. Additionally, via the attachment name, that’s 10-15 characters more of information you can share at just a glance. Or at the minimum, if they’re reading via the compact view, an extra moniker that most emails do not have. A paper clip. To a reader’s eyes, it draws the same amount of attention as a blue check mark on Twitter or Instagram.
Once they click open the email, instead of plain text, your reader, your investor, sees font that stands out from all the other email text. A textual mutation that leads to curiosity. Something that begs to be read.
Powerful, but neglected channel: Physical mail
When I started in venture, I didn’t have a network, but I knew I needed one. Particularly, with other investors. After all, I didn’t know smack. I quickly realized that email and LinkedIn were completely saturated. One investor I reached out to later told me that he doesn’t check his LinkedIn at all, since he got 200 connection requests a day. So, it begged the question: Where must investors spend time but aren’t oversaturated with information?
Well, the thing is they’re human. So I walked through every step of what a day in the life of an average human being would go through, then guesstimated if there were any similarities with an investor’s schedule. Meal time, time in the bathroom, when they were driving or in an Uber (but I don’t run a podcast they’d listen to). And, like every other human being, they check their physical mail. Or someone close to them, checks them.
I knew they had to check their mail for their bills (a surprising number of investors haven’t gone paperless). But it couldn’t seem sales-y because they or their spouse or assistant would immediately throw it out. That’s when I decided I would write handwritten letters to their offices.
The EA is the one who usually sorts through the stack, and is someone who also doesn’t get the attention he/she deserves. Nevertheless, I believed:
Handwritten letters are going to stand out among a sea of Arial and Times New Roman font.
The envelope had to be in a non-white color to stand out against the other white envelopes. So, I went to Michael’s to buy a bunch of blue and green envelopes. Truth be told, I thought red was too much for me, and often carried a negative connotation.
The EA or office manager has to deem it not spam or marketing, so including a name and return address is actually a huge bonus, AND a note that doesn’t seem market-y on the envelope (i.e. thank you and looking forward to catching up).
At the end of the letter, I’d write I’d love to drop by and meet up with them in the office. Then I’d show up at their office within the week, and say, “I’m here to see ‘Bob.'”
The EA would ask if I had an appointment, and I would say that he should’ve received a letter in earlier in the week that let him know I would be here. Then, the EA would go back and ask if ‘Bob’ was free. If not, I’d wait in the lobby until they were, without overstaying my welcome. If they weren’t in the office, I’d ask to “reschedule” and book a time with them via the EA. Which would then officially get me on their calendars.
New and upcoming channel: Instacart
In a blogpost I wrote in 2021, I recapped how Instacart got into YC:
Garry Tan and Apoorva Mehta have bothshared this story publicly. Apoorva, founder of Instacart, back in 2012, wanted to apply to Y Combinator. Unfortunately, he was applying two months late. So he reached out to all the YC alum he knew to get intros to the YC partners. He just needed one to be interested. But after every single one said no, Garry, then a partner at YC, wrote: “You could submit a late application, but it will be nearly impossible to get you in now.”
For Apoorva, that meant “it was possible.” He sent an application and a video in, but Garry responded with another “no” several days later. But instead of pushing with another email and another application, Apoorva decided to send Garry a 6-pack of beer delivered by Instacart. So that Garry could try out the product firsthand. 21st Amendment’s Back in Black, to be specific. In the end, without any precedent, Instacart was accepted. And the rest is history.
In the above case, Instacart in and of itself was the emerging platform of choice. The application portal and email here were both saturated and had failed to produce results. What I missed in the above story is that the 6-pack arrived cold, which meant that the product worked and could deliver in record time. A perfect example of a product demo, in a way the partners were least expecting it.
In closing
Siddhartha Mukherjeeonce wrote: “We seek constancy in heredity — and find its opposite: variation. Mutants are necessary to maintain the essence of ourselves.”
Variation — being different — is necessary for the survival of our species. That’s what evolution is. That said, what worked yesterday isn’t guaranteed to work tomorrow. ‘Cause that same mutation that enabled the survival of a species has become commonplace. The human race, just like any other species, replicates what works to ensure greater survival.
The same is true for great ideas. A great idea today — even the above three — will be table stakes at some point in the future. Thus, requiring the need for even newer, even more innovative ideas. Hell, if it’s not via my blog, it’ll come from somewhere else. With the rise of generative AI — ChatGPT, Midjourney, Dall-E, you name it, if you’re average, you’ll be replaced. If you don’t have a unique voice, you’ll be replaced. Some algorithm will do a better and faster job than you will. As soon as more people start using the afore-mentioned tactics, the above will no longer be original. As such, I don’t imagine the case studies will age well, but the frameworks will. That said, the only unsaturated market is the market of great. To be great, you must be atypical. You must go where no one has gone before.
For those interested in startup pitches that stand out, specifically how to think about compelling storytelling, I highly recommend two places that inspire much of my thinking on the topic:
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.
“A true friend is one who stabs you in the front.”— Oscar Wilde
Many years ago, in what seemed like another lifetime, I made a girl cry. Nothing to boast about. In fact, even today, I’m quite embarrassed that I did so. In a negotiation where I prioritized one small committee in a club’s priorities above the priorities of other committees, I felt that I was right in every way. I conceived a million reasons why rationally I was right — cost, our future members’ preferences, down to the stable marriage algorithm. I fell prey to pride and ego. And she broke down. Instead of apologizing, I walked away, asserting that the data supported my case.
The next day, I found solace among classmates and friends. They told me I didn’t do anything wrong. That they would’ve done the same thing. That the facts proved I was right. Until that evening, a good friend and someone I’d known since middle school, said, “You’re fucking stupid.”
He told me to drop everything and to go apologize in person right that instant. To hell with data and facts. He said that I forgot the very first principle of any negotiation… that there was a human being on the other side. And I didn’t treat her as one. He was the one person who opened my eyes up to the ego I was blinded by. So I did. In my realization, I felt terrible and even worse for needing someone else to tell me that I had to. But that’s the friend I needed. That’s what I needed to hear.
Something you might have realized if you’re a frequent visitor to this small piece of virtual real estate is that I’m not perfect. Nor do I pretend to be. The above example is evidence of that.
I was reminded of that when I was listening to Jonathan Abramson Venture Unlocked earlier this week. Where they brought up the topic of being founder friendly — a term that indubitably carries a lot of baggage. From the VC side, it’s jargon that’s been thrown around so much over the past decade, it’s lost its luster and meaning. From the founder side, many founders frankly just don’t get what it means. Why? Because no one actually defines it.
Over the years, I’ve seen and heard explicit and implicit definitions, including:
Not firing the CEO (even when they don’t do a good job)
Helping the founder grow as the company and CEO job description grows
Having answers to every question the founders ask
Asking (good) questions
Telling the founders what to do
The thing is, all the above are right and wrong at the same time. It’s situationally dependent. Ok, maybe except the last one. That one’s wrong all the time. Something you realize pretty quickly is that the investor is not in the driver’s seat. At best, we sit shotgun.
So, what does “founder friendly” mean?
Jonathan Abrams and the 8-Bit team says, “Do no harm.”
Fred Wilson says, “Saving your company from yourself may well be founder friendly.”
To YC, it’s being honest, transparent, responsive, and acting in the best interests of the company, shareholders, employees, and founders.
The truth is everyone has a different, but similar definition. Like product-market fit, it’s hard to measure and an amorphous term. It’s obvious in hindsight. But mysterious in foresight. Yet, as a founder, there are still many telltale signs on how helpful an investor actually will be.
Leading indicators to helpfulness
One of the reasons I love working with smaller checkwriters — be it angels or emerging fund managers — is that they often punch above their weight class. They’re insanely responsive. And are often more helpful than their check size. They may not be able to single-handedly fill the round, nor can their check get you to profitability, but they’re there when you need them. In other words, they hit high on the check size-to-helpfulness ratio, which I’ve written about before.
The first meeting
Interestingly enough, the first meeting is quite telling of how helpful investors are — regardless of the decision outcome. It could be in the form of investor intros, strategic advice, hard questions to consider, or key hires to make. In fact, they’ll make you feel like you got back days if not weeks, out of a 30-minute meeting. If you, as the founder, get nothing out of the first meeting, then you likely won’t get much when they are on your cap table. The most helpful investors don’t waste time. Not theirs. But more importantly, not yours either. They know that each time you meet with them is time away from building. And they’ll make that time worthwhile.
As an investor, the golden standard should be to be helpful in every meeting. And I don’t mean ending the conversation with “Let me know how I can be helpful.” That’s reactive.
For one of my good friends, that means that if he takes a meeting with you — whether he chooses to invest or not, he will write a 3-5 page bug report on your product. For some of my other friends, it’s that if they take a meeting, they’ll nine out of ten times set up an intro. Instead of asking “How can I be helpful?”, one should ask “What do you need help on?” or “What are the biggest obstacles that prevent you from reaching your 6-12 month goals?” Then, proactively trying to find some way to help.
That said, the afore-mentioned investors’ bar for taking a meeting is rather high.
Response rate
Another proxy for helpfulness is how fast they reply to your emails. Many of the investors who I know are insanely helpful have a system to respond to founders quickly. Moreover, if the decision is a ‘No’, they don’t shy away from sharing that and why they decided to pass. Of course, the latter is not possible for every inbound pitch. But at the very minimum, are table stakes if you’ve already jumped on an initial live conversation with them.
Here, within 24 hours is epic. 48-72 hours is great. And anything longer becomes a dime a dozen.
Inactive founders sing them high praise
It’s always important to do your homework on your investor. One of such ways is talking to other founders they backed, especially the ones who are no longer founders or no longer pursuing the original idea they were backed on. Active portfolio companies are likely to still give lip service to their investors, especially when they are a large portion of their cap table. So, when you ask, “Was this investor helpful?”, you’re likely to get an overly politically correct answer. Rather, the question I recommend asking is:
“If you were to start a new company, who are the three investors — big or small — on your current cap table that you would kill to have back on?”
Conversely, if you talk to former portfolio founders, they’re likely to be a lot more honest as they don’t have a currently active relationship with the investor. Or if they still do, the investor must have done something right.
Lagging indicators to helpfulness
While not the intended purpose of this blogpost, I can’t help but shed some additional context for investors out there. In my recent conversations with GPs and LPs, I noticed a common thread among the GPs who are capable of raising a fund even in a down market. It’s that the founders they back who went on to raise A, B rounds, or greater, come back to invest in their early believers. The people who made a difference in these founders’ lives.
So, whenever I meet an emerging GP asking for fundraising advice, one of the first questions I ask, outside of these five questions which determine if they’re ready to start a fund, is:
Have any of the founders you backed before committed to your fund?
Goodwill and helpfulness builds flywheels. When your founders go on to win, if you’ve been helpful, they’ll want to pay it back.
Tangentially, it’s why the team at Ludlow Ventures says, “There is no greater compliment, as a VC, than when a founder you passed on — still sends you deal-flow and introductions.” So, getting deal flow from founders you pass on means, either:
They still want something from you; or
You were really helpful that they want to send all their best founder friends to you.
Hopefully, it’s the latter.
In closing
At the end of the day, no one’s perfect. Not the founders. Not the investors. No one. And it’s okay.
In the current world of chaotic down markets, high interest rates, and more, this is the time to build goodwill. This is the time to be truly founder friendly. If you have less liquidity, you can always help in many ways outside of pure capital. After all, capital for founders is a means to an end, not an end in and of itself. Sometimes it’s just being honest, candid, and transparent with the founder.
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.
In 2016, I jumped into the VC world, knowing no better than what my forefathers and foremothers taught me. Outside of a handful few, many of the people I looked up to and sought for advice had been in the business for less than a decade. In effect, they started their investing career after the GFC (Global Financial Crisis) in 2008. While they still bore more scar tissue than I did, I learned quickly that the one question to ask founders early on was “What is your last round’s valuation?” or “What valuation are you seeking?” For the latter question, the implicit answer we sought out for was their 12-month revenue. And subsequently, their valuation multiple. In Mark Suster‘s words, we were “praying to the God of Valuation.” But really, their exit multiples matter more than the entry or current multiple.
For fund managers and partners, the question was “What is your IRR or TVPI?” or “What’s your AUM?”. Rather, the answer we should be seeking isn’t some function of their portfolio’s valuations, but the quality of the businesses they invest in.
To be fair, I failed to fully appreciate the latter answer until this year.
The odds aren’t bad, but that doesn’t mean they’re great
Jared Heyman wrote a great piece last year on the probability of success for YC startups. After parsing through the data, he found that after a couple years of survival, a startup is just as likely to go through an exit (i.e. acquisition or go public) as it is to fail (i.e. inactive). Additionally, ~88% of startups reach resolution (exit or inactive) around the 12-year mark.
It’s also interesting to note that the average time it takes for a YC company to exit (if they exit) is seven years. In fact, the time horizon has shortened in the past few years from an average timeline of nine years to five. Of course that’s pre-2022, so the time to exit is likely to increase once again to the mean or longer as:
Markets are less liquid. Valuations drop. Rounds are smaller. Buyers are less eager to buy. Founders have less access to liquidity and exit opportunities. As such, the markets will demand more proof from founders of market traction.
Investor sentiment is guarded, echoing Howard Marks. I haven’t seen the newest numbers but at best, I imagine we’ll see more capital go towards existing investments, maintaining overall investment volume. At worst, a decline of capital deployment, outside of ephemerally “hot” industries, like generative AI.
Investors’ key worry is investment losses. Investors up and downstream become more risk averse.
Interest rates are rising to curb inflation, leading to a debt investor’s market rather than an equity investor’s. Founders are likely to turn to expensive debt instruments (and many already have). Higher interest rates also mean greater return expectations from investors.
Jared does note in another piece that “while YC startups may cost 2-3 times as much as their non-YC peers to investors, they’re worth 6-7 times as much in terms of expected investor returns.” It’s great to be an LP in YC, but tough to be choosing YC startups. Of course, at the very end there’s a gentle reminder that VCs (and angels) are defined by the magnitude of their successes rather than the number of their failures (and successes). Just because a portco gets to an exit doesn’t mean it’ll be a fund returner. With shifting markets, this will be as true for YC under Garry’s leadership as for any other fund.
Of course, I don’t mean to pick on YC. They do a tremendous job of picking founders. And it’s true that they have set the golden standard for startup accelerators. It’s just that the above data was easily accessible.
Portfolio consistency
Interestingly enough, Oliver Jung, Airbnb’s former VP International, wrote half a month later that Adinvest’s Fund II made him $200 on every dollar he invested in the fund, largely because of a 1000x Adinvest II made into Adyen.
That’s a phenomenal outcome! To make investors back $200 on every dollar invested is definitely one for the books. The question becomes (and I have no inside scoop on this): How did the rest of the portfolio do? Was Adinvest’s Fund II purely based on luck or is there a consistent model that can be replicated in future funds?
For that question, it begs another. If we took out Adinvest’s investment in Adyen, what is the DPI (distributions to paid-in capital) of the rest of the fund? That will dictate Adinvest’s ability to raise a subsequent fund, at least from the larger, more sophisticated LPs. A great and consistent portfolio may look something a little like this.
Given that the average fund’s returns (with a large enough portfolio i.e. 100 portcos) normalizes to a 3x gross return — venture’s Mendoza line, 3-5x would put you in the ball park of good. High single digits would put you in the great category. And double digits would put you in epic.
And if Adyen really was the sole outlier success, did the GPs have the conviction to double down in subsequent rounds? If so, how did they earn their pro rata?
Sometimes all you need is one investment to push you from a nobody to a somebody, but if you’re intent on building a multi-decade-long career in the space, your founders should see you in the same or better light than those equipped with asymmetric information (i.e. those who read about you in the media).
While many Fund I’s and II’s may not have a reserve ratio, were the GPs and LPs able to continue to invest via SPVs? By doubling down, it’s the difference between a strategy to win and a strategy not to lose. How much of Adinvest’s AUM does their investment in Adyen account for? And being a fund manager means balancing oneself on the tightrope between the two strategies. In doubling down, that investment becomes a larger percent of the capital you manage (AUM). If you lose, you lose much more. If you win, you win a lot more.
Of course, this is true for any fund. I ended up overly picking on the case study of Adinvest to illustrate the point, but I have nothing against the great success Oliver, the other LPs and the team at Adinvest did have. On a broader spectrum, the purpose of having many shots on goal is theoretically so that you will have a few outliers. So your fund can grow based on a consistent strategy.
There are many times when all you have is that one outlier (often still in paper returns, not distributions yet). It happens. I’ve seen it happen. But if that one doesn’t work out, how forthcoming are you with your “disappearing TVPI?” I imagine a lot of investors who are planning to raise in 2023 will come face to face with these questions, having made big bets on hot startups in the last two years. Will you shrug it off? Or will you candidly share the lessons in which you learned?
The above is just something I’ve thought about a lot more as I see more emerging GP fundraising decks, as they boast about their angel portfolio (if they did have one).
In closing
There’s a proverb that goes: A broken clock is still right twice a day. You can be the worst investor out there, but with enough swings at bat, you’ll still be able to hit some outliers.
In the world of investing, you’re guaranteed to be wrong more often than you’re right. But I’ve seen many that do a lot of stuff ‘wrong’ and still have a winning fund. The big question… and the question, sophisticated and institutional LPs are asking is: Is it repeatable?
So, even if you did hit some home runs, is your success repeatable?
One last footnote. In talking with a number of investors who’ve been in the business for more than a decade, I’m starting to realize that selling (i.e. knowing when to sell and how much to sell) is just as important. An art and a science. I’ve written about it before (here and here), but I imagine I’ll revisit the topic again in long form soon. Especially as I see more discourse on the topic and funds close and liquidate in the near future. From great ones like Union Square Ventures to those who need to return some DPI to raise their next fund.
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.
This year I learned a lot. From the fact that most of my readers love to read my blogposts on Wednesday 2PM Pacific to how I could get general partners — some of the smartest people in VC — to be vulnerable and candid to how to set up an SPV from scratch (without the help of any platform). It’s been a rollercoaster. And I loved every second of it.
My blog grew modestly. No hockey-stick curve. And that’s okay. I enjoyed inking each word. To me, that’s what makes this blog worth it.
I’ve written 87,000 words, with over a third fewer posts than last year. I want to say I was busy. And I was. But another equally true reason was that I was scared to disappoint. I wasn’t content publishing half-baked ideas. And it sucks when I know I wanted to write more. How? Because as of today, I have 53 drafts just sitting in my WordPress folder. With 245 total published essays, that’s a sixth of my thoughts I withheld or postponed because I thought: “They’re not good enough.”
Comfort is powerful. And earlier this year I found myself resigning to habitual cycles I had developed in the year prior. A fear manifested into reality. So I made a promise to myself to escape the clutches of complacency.
But while I hesitated on the writing front, I chose to take risk elsewhere. I took big bets. For one-way door decisions, bets I didn’t wait for a 100% conviction on. And just jumped when I got to 70%. As a function, I had many firsts.
It’s the first economic downturn I’m living and working through (2008 and the dot com era don’t really count as I was still in grade school).
For the first-time I broke my streak of writing weekly since the inception of this blog. While I can blame servers and bugs, the reason was simple. I just wasn’t prepared enough.
I set up my first SPV (special purpose vehicle) from scratch. With a s**tload of help, but yes, from incorporating to legal docs to setting up bank accounts, and so on.
I started interviewing LPs in fireside chats — something I never imagined I would end up love doing or be capable of doing.
I hosted my first social experiment-like event paid for and sponsored by investors for investors, rather than my usual audience of thrill seekers. Based on the feedback, I’d say it was a success. Many learnings and an indispensable village helping behind the scenes. A handful of things that could have been better. But a night of surprises. And I learned — something I hope to share more in the future (as I have larger sample sizes) — events, just like books, movies, shows, podcasts, and so on, are stories. And stories have settings, character developments, plots, a climax, and an end where the audience can imagine no other (to steal a line from Robert McKee).
Additionally, I…
Took my first vacation, not touching any work at all, in six years;
Went to my first traditional Vietnamese wedding; hell, travelled to Southeast Asia for the first time;
Successfully made fruit chips en masse;
Realized my favorite photo mode is portrait mode;
Built my first PC;
Put together my first career manifesto — my professional raison d’être.
And it’s still not enough.
But I digress. While I wrote far fewer posts, 2022 was the year I wanted to make things count. As Muhammad Ali once said, “Don’t count the days; make the days count.” The below, while I wish I had a longer list, are the blogposts that counted.
2022’s Most Popular
The below are the essays that I published during 2022, and generated the most views, ranked from most to 5th most:
The Emerging LP Playbook – I never expected this one to take the top spot this year. Borne out of a personal curiosity and an attempt to better understand the black box industry of LP investing, ever since Andrew Gluck put “emerging” and “LP” back-to-back on a Zoom call, I had to learn more about it. The truth is I only knew a handful of known LPs at the time, but I’m happy this piece has expanded the horizon for not only myself, but everyone else out there who’s read this curious piece. It answers just one nexus question: For a first-time LP, where do you start?
99 Pieces of Unsolicited, (Possibly) Ungoogleable Startup Advice – I’m a collector. And have been so for a while. Specifically, a collector of quotes. I have journals dedicated to them. When the pandemic hit, I had a thought, what if I collected 99 soundbites (some albeit my own) about being a founder? All tactical. And each will share an actionable lesson. And I shared them. I didn’t know how long it’d take, but I knew that 99 sounded like a good number.
What Does Signal Mean For An Early-Stage Investor? – The word ‘signal’ has been thrown around quite a bit in the last two years — 2020 and 2021, if you’re a time traveler and reading this in the future. For instance, an investor would look for ‘signal’ before investing in a deal. In the above blogpost, I break down exactly what ‘signal’ means. And I imagine, in whatever time period governed by FOMO (fear of missing out), ‘signal’ will rhyme.
99 Pieces of Unsolicited, (Possibly) Ungoogleable Advice For Investors – Just like the one I wrote for founders, soon after, I thought I’d put a list of 99 soundbites for investors. And as I jumped at the opportunity to work with the brilliant team at On Deck Angels, I was living and breathing everything about investors — from angel investing to fund investing. Of course, you can sense my heavy bias towards to latter.
All-Time Most Popular
The funny, yet in hindsight, unsurprising, thing, is that the below are perfect examples of the power law, collectively generating 90% of the views ever on my blog. The below ranked in view count popularity:
The Emerging LP Playbook – I wrote this piece for myself and other investors looking to be LPs. Unsuspectingly so (at least in foresight), this piece generated a huge amount of excitement not only with my initial intended audience — who, I thought, was a niche audience — but also among many VCs and angels out there. I rarely write in hopes to change people’s minds. I’m not much of a persuasive writer, but rather I hope my words offer oases for people searching for answers in a desolate desert. But of the feedback I’ve gotten, it has surprisingly changed a number of people’s minds about LPs, as well as about different asset classes to invest in.
10 Letters of Thanks to 10 People who Changed my Life – To this day, it still baffles me how this is the most perennially popular essay I’ve written. The SEO keywords I’ve optimized for here are all related to Thanksgiving, yet the fact that search engines bring me new readers every single week without fail is an enigma I’m still unravelling. That said, I am thankful to everyone who’s given me and the 10 people I am deeply thankful for that year the attention and time out of your busy schedule.
How to Pitch VCs Without Ever Having to Send the Pitch Deck – Teach them something new. Many founders who’ve worked with me can attest that that’s been my favorite line to lead with when they ask for fundraising advice. This blogpost and the person behind it (who’ll stay anonymous for now) is the reason for that.
#unfiltered #30 Inspiration and Frustration – The Honest Answers From Some of the Most Resilient People Going through a World of Uncertainty – (Part two of which you can find here.) Interestingly enough, I knew this one would stand the test of time. Something we learn in Econ 101 is that business cycles come in booms and busts. And they oscillate between great times and bad times. The human emotion, our daily lives, and our careers are no exception. Collectively, I queried 42 world-class professionals about their greatest motivators. What keeps them going? I ask them two questions, but the catch is they’re only allowed to answer one of them. These pieces are a gentle reminder that bad times, like good times, never last.
Most Memorable Pieces in 2022
In writing each of the below, I felt the needle move forward. Not for the world or for the people immediately around me. But for me. That I myself took one small essay forward, but a disproportionately giant leap in the way I thought about the world around me. Each is the culmination of not just a few hours of writing, but of many things more. Provocative conversations. Research deep dives. And generous people.
In no particular order, if I were to hide pieces of my 2022 soul and mind in Horcruxes, they would be in the below:
The Emerging LP Playbook – You’ll realize that this blogpost appears in all three lists. The first two are outside of my control. But the reason it appears here is this piece catalyzed a spark that’ll come more into fruition in 2023. A spark that emerged from realizing the massive information asymmetry between LPs and GPs. Hell, even between LPs.
How to Develop Intuition as a Rookie Startup Investor – This dates as far back as 2017, when I first inked the thought in my notebook. The thesis was simple. Intuition — one’s sixth sense was a subconscious function of the mastery of the other five senses. But then, I felt ill-equipped to explicitly describe what other investors were feeling, and over time, what I was feeling as a function of what I was thinking. In it, I share each of the questions I consider and their respective answers that inform each of my senses (sight, hearing, taste, etc.).
How do You Know if You Should Professionalize as an Investor? – I love asking questions. To the point, and I don’t mean this in a tongue-in-cheek way, that often the best way to answer a question is with another question. I’ve gotten the above question many a time this past year, and this piece is a permutation of what helps me get to first-principles thinking when it comes to: Should you raise a fund… or stay an angel?
Five Tactical Lessons After Hosting 100+ Fireside Chats – I love hosting interviews. I really do. Part of it is due to the fact I love asking questions. The other half is… well… the average coffee chat is 30 minutes long. Half of it disappears after exchanging pleasantries. So, the big question is: How do you get more time with people you respect? One answer among many is by giving them a stage. That said, as I was doing my homework to be a better MC, the information out there is either paltry or too generic. So I made a promise to myself that as I do more myself I’ll share all the non-obvious lessons I learn. So that others can do better than me. And I hopefully, get to learn from them as they get better.
When Should You Sell Your Shares As An Investor? – Selling is really an art more than science. Like investing, often obvious in hindsight, but painfully scary in foresight. And to be a great investor, you have to distribute your earnings. And in order to earn, you have to turn something illiquid into something liquid. This piece was one of my first explorations behind what makes selling hard and how some of the best do it.
Quirks That Just Make Sense – Maybe there’s a bit of recency bias here, but this is something a few of my friends have known about me for a while. I just never had a good excuse to talk about it publicly. (Weird that I thought I ever needed an excuse to). But my good buddy Matt brought me out of my shell a few weeks back. And together we put together a piece about the quirks we carry and the origin story of each. Coincidentally enough, just watched Garry Tan’s video yesterday about a similar topic.
In closing
Cheers to a year of life lessons, friendships, skills and experiences acquired that were well worth the ride! And many more to come! If there’s ever any topic you would like me to write about in the future, don’t hesitate to let me know. I have two nominations already.
To peruse one of Kurt Vonnegut‘s lessons, I hope to continue to use your time in a way that you feel is not wasted.
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.
Last week I had the chance to sit with the one and only Steven Rosenblatt, former President at Foursquare and the one who got Apple into the advertising business, now Founding GP at Oceans. Of the many things I could have asked, I had one burning question. Something that I also knew Steven knew like the back of his hand. Hiring executives.
Particularly, I’ve always been curious, since I’ve never done so myself, but have watched many friends and founders do it — successfully and well… its polar opposite, best described with this meme.
And in fourteen words, I asked Steven: For a first-time founder, how does one go about hiring their first executive?
To which, Steven generously shared: “There are three questions that founding CEOs need to ask themselves.”
“What’s the most critical gap in the company that you need incredible leverage?” What are the holes you’re really failing at? That if you can hire, will dramatically increase the success of the company. If you don’t solve, you won’t have the right to raise the next round of funding. You don’t need to build a $100M company today; you need to build a $10M company today.
“What are the things you hate to do or suck at?” A lot of CEOs optimize for the question: What kind of CEO do I want to be? But what’s more powerful, as Steven shared, is: What kind of CEO do I NOT want to be? Are you sure your superpower as a founder is aligned with what you want to do?
“Is this person going to help me build the culture that I want at my company?” Sometimes someone is going to look great on paper, but the rest of the company and culture will outright reject them.
Culture, talent, and everything in between
As the saying goes, you look for the shimmer, but mine for the gold. (Yes, I made that up. But trust me, if I say it enough times, it’ll stick.) So, I’d be remiss to leave the jewel unexcavated. As such, in the double take, I asked: Tactically, how do you know if someone is a good culture fit?
“Write down the things that are important to you,” Steven shared, “What kind of team are you looking to build?” A results-oriented one or a process-oriented one? A culture of one-on-ones or not? Distributed or not? A family or a world-class orchestra?
“There’s no script for this,” elaborates Steven, “But think deeply about how you want to treat your employees, how you think about growth, and how you talk to investors. When I transitioned from Apple to Foursquare, on day one, while I was still only an advisor, Dennis invited me to an Exec meeting. I knew this was a culture of transparency. Additionally, at our weekly All-Hands, while Dennis led some of them, I would lead them as well as other execs. Something I found that our employees really really appreciated it. I went from a culture of secrets to one of transparency.
“So, to understand if someone is a good fit for your culture, after you write down what’s important to you, ask them:
What’s important to you? What haven’t you achieved that you want to achieve?
How do you do your best work? When do you feel the most motivated?
Why do you want to work here? Why are you excited to do so?
“These are multi-year relationships. And you need someone great to help you get to the next level. The truth is your first execs aren’t going to change; it’s who they are. And if they don’t live and breathe your values from the beginning, they won’t change their personality just for you.
“One thing I make sure to bring up is why they shouldn’t be here. ‘I’m not sure you really want to work here. Let me give you a bunch of examples of why you won’t want to be here. Let me tell why this is really, really hard.’ I then listen to how they react to it. In the early stages, you want someone who’s bought into the mission. After all, this is someone you’ll spend a lot of time with. Can you take this person out to brunch with your family?”
Now that you’ve hired a great candidate, I had to ask the man, “What does a great exec hire do in their first 90 days?”
There’s a saying that good things come in pairs. If I might add to that, it turns out great things come in triads. ‘Cause without skipping a beat, Steven said, “A great exec hire must do three things in their first 90 days: 1/ spend time with everyone; 2/ align with the founders, and 3/ build an action plan.”
1. Spend time with everyone
“Meet with everyone who’s at the company and really get to know them. Not just what they do at the company, but also why they choose to do what they do.”
Digging a level deeper, I asked: “So what questions do you ask your team members to really get to know them?” Steven, responded in kind, with his Rolodex of questions — a set I know I’m keeping in my 52-card deck:
What’s on your mind?
What does your day-to-day look like?
What inspires you?
And what’s holding you back? What’s stopping you from doing your best work?
If budget wasn’t an issue, what would you do? And what would you need to be able to get it done?
Of course, goalpost of everyone changes as your company scales. If someone is the first exec hire, talking to literally everyone makes sense. On the flip side, as Steven shared, “if you’re at a point, when you’re on a 100+ team — like a Series B company — you may not be able to talk to all 100 employees. In that case, 50-70 employees should suffice.”
2. Align with the founders
As important as it is to talk with the team, the conversations before and after the exec is hired are different only in the context that the latter goes much deeper. The best way for an exec to hit the ground running is to really understand the company’s past, present and future.
The past. “A great exec needs to understand what’s been built to date and why. What were some of the hard decisions we had to make? Where did we pivot? What did we stop doing? And what have we learned to date?
The present. “Who is using the product and who are our target customers? How are they using it? Gather as much product-related data as possible.”
The future. “Where do we think we want to be in the next 90 days? Six months? A year? Are there things that the exec would like to change? Where are we not aligned and why aren’t we?”
Within that three-month period, a great exec should have already figured out where they are going to prioritize their time. When putting it all together, a world-class exec is able to answer the question: Is the plan we want to execute on the same as the one our team is doing day-to-day? Is there any cognitive dissonance?
3. Build an action plan.
After they’ve talked to everyone, “the exec then comes back to management and lays it out. ‘Here’s where we need to get to to be fundable. I’ve talked to the employees, and here are the gaps we need to solve in the next few months. To help us get there, here are some of the hires I’m going to recruit.’
“In the prior conversations, you, the founder, have laid out that plan to fundability in the next 12 to 18 months. Does the exec agree with it? After all, the company’s KPIs are the exec’s KPIs.
“If so, the question becomes: How will the exec spend their time? What part are they owning? You hired this person to either take something off your plate or do something you hate doing or are not good or mediocre at. The exec’s job is to free up the founders’ time to do what they’re great at. So, you can focus on things that are higher leverage.”
So it got me thinking about the validity of my own question, is 90 days really the right benchmark for an exec to go from 0 to 100. Turns out, it may not be. “Given that this is your first exec hire and you’re still early, 60 days is more than enough, ” said Steven, “As you go further down the road, it’ll take more time to ramp up.” When you have a real business going on — something that’s default alive, as opposed to default dead — that’s when 60 days of an onboarding period turns to 90.
Letting go
I was also curious of the counterfactual. What if your hire goes wrong? How do you let someone go?
“Unless they’re a new hire, the day you let them go should not be the first time they’re hearing about this. Ideally, there should be no surprises that things aren’t going right. As the CEO, you should be having several frequent and transparent conversations to help them course-correct. If it’s clear that this person is not working out, move swiftly to let the person go. The longer you wait, the more damage it will cause long-term.
“It should also not be a surprise to the team when you do let them go. People often play to the lowest common denominator. Never the highest. ‘I just need to be better than the worst.’ If someone is really weak in their role, people see that. And if you don’t do anything about that person, they will set the culture and the standard for everyone else. So if you let someone go, and everyone else breathes a sigh of relief, that sets the record straight and your team can move on.”
Paul Graham and Suhail Doshi have a similar approach. If you ask your co-founders to separately think of someone who should be fired, and if they all thought of the same person, it’s probably time to let them go.
I found early on just asking myself: “would I hire this person if I knew what i know now?” seemed to always produce the correct answer. Additionally can make all the founders put their answer in a hat and reveal at once. Do it for every person on the team.
To take this a level deeper, I love the words Matt Mochary uses and recently shared on an episode of Lenny Rachitsky’s podcast. “The best way to lay someone off is for them to hear it from their manager in a one-on-one.” And before you give them the lay of the land, preface these hard conversations with: “This is going to be a difficult conversation. Are you ready?”
After they say “Yes”, then you share: “I’m letting you go. And this is why.”
After you share the why, you follow up with: “My guess is that you’re feeling a lot of emotion, anger, and sadness. Am I right?” Then actively listen to their fear and pain.
After you’ve had the conversation, don’t ask the canonical “How can I help?” But actively step in and help them find a better home. At the same time, it’s worth giving some people the space and time to process the multitude of emotions and stimuli. So, this doesn’t have to the first conversation, but most likely the second or third post-announcement.
In closing
As we wrapped up our conversation, Steven left me with these closing words. “Don’t be scared to make that first executive hire. But also, don’t rush into it. Take the time to get it right.”
He’s right. As with all great things, take the time to get it right.
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.
