Paying Attention Vs Paying Proper Attention

magnifying glass, pay attention

Earlier this week, I was listening to a fascinatingly thoughtful conversation between Tim Ferriss and Kindred’s Steve Jang, where Tim said one line that stood out in particular: “I’ve been paying a lot of attention, but I’ll be honest, I don’t know how to pay proper attention.”

And well, it got me thinking. About the difference between knowing what to look at and knowing how to look at it.

One of my favorite TED talks is by Will Guidara (quite honestly I think it deserves more views on YouTube than it has). Will is probably best known for co-founding one of New York’s hottest fine dining restaurants, Eleven Madison Park, and for writing the book, Unreasonable Hospitality. And in it, he talks about how just listening to the conversations that are happening at the tables and delivering these small, unexpected pockets of joy can create experiences that transcend money and time.

In the afore-mentioned talk, he talks about how there are four diners at Eleven Madison Park. That they went to all the top restaurants in NYC. Le Bernardin. Per se. And so on. And Eleven Madison Park was the last on their to-do list. But the only regret they had was that they never got to try a New York hot dog. Of course, upon hearing that, Will storms out the door to buy a $2 dog, brings it back to the kitchen and convinces the chef to serve it over the aged duck that took years to perfect. And when he finally delivered the next course on the menu as the hot dog he just bought, the four guests went bonkers. That despite on the multiple courses and the brilliant food, that their favorite dish was the NYC hot dog.

That it was because Will paid proper attention to his guests that he was able to deliver a truly unforgettable experience.

The truth is how to pay proper attention to anything that deserves our attention is the million-dollar question.

There’s the famous selective attention test, where viewers are asked to count the number of times the ball is being passed between the players, only to fail to realize that there is gorilla that walks across the screen. We’re told to pay attention to the ball passes, but only by paying proper attention to the purpose of why the test is being administered, do we catch what is hiding in plain sight.

Similarly, Raymond Joseph Teller (or better known for being half of the dynamic magic duo Penn & Teller) did a fascinating talk a decade and a half ago about the illusion of expectation. That magic in all of its novel facets feeds off of the expectations of its onlookers. When one tries to pay attention to the coins that are “magically” jumping from one hand to the next, you might fail to catch the sleight of hand in between. But only after he reveals his secrets is the simple magic act all the more impressive. In other words, in the second half, he teaches you how to pay proper attention.

If you have eight minutes in your day, would highly recommend watching the below video.

I can’t speak for every topic, industry, relationship, and so on out there, but at least for the cottage industry of venture capital, why I choose to write an angel or an LP check is similar. I don’t really look for what will change. ‘Cause damn, it’s so hard to predict what will change and how things will change. If I knew, and if one day, I know, please invest in my public markets fund, which will be the best performing fund of all time. But I don’t. We, as pundits sitting around the table, might draw predictions. But even the smartest of us (not sure why I say us, ’cause not sure if I can put myself in that category yet) would be lying if we knew what would happen in foresight.

Instead, I look at what doesn’t change.

The great Charlie Munger passed away last week at the age of 99. And without question, a great loss to the world we live in today. Just half a year prior, he and Warren Buffett were hosting their 2023 annual meeting. And just two weeks prior, he was still doing CNBC interviews. And one of my favorite lines from that May annual meeting was:

“Well, it’s so simple to spend less than you earn, and invest shrewdly, and avoid toxic people and toxic activities, and try and keep learning all your life, et cetera, et cetera, and do a lot of deferred gratification because you prefer life that way. And if you do all those things, you are almost certain to succeed. If you don’t, you’re going to need a lot of luck. And you don’t want to need a lot of luck. You want to go into a game where you’re very likely to win without having any unusual luck.”

In reducing the requirement to need luck, one of the most effective ways to find what is constant in life. That despite changing times and technologies, these stay true. Or as Morgan Housel and Naval Ravikant put it, If you lived your life 1000 times, what would be true in 999 of them? In investing jargon, pattern recognition. Across my investments and more, where have I seen outperformance? What characteristics do they all share? What about human nature won’t change?

In fairness, pattern recognition gets a bad rap. And for a lot of investors, that’s because they choose to only invest in their comfort zone, and what they know best. Their former colleagues. Their Stanford GSB classmates. People who look like them, think like them, act like them. But recognizing thematic threads stretch across all facets of our life. We learn that not brushing our teeth well can lead to cavities. We learn that after stubbing our toe on the kitchen counter numerous times, we take a wider turn before turning into the kitchen. And we learn that eating piping hot foods kills your tastebuds for the next few days.

In venture, we’re always taught to look at the team, product, and market. And that all are important. But if you tell a new grad or an ex-founder or an emerging angel to do just that. To them, that means nothing. They wouldn’t know how to judge. They have no benchmarks, nor do they know what’s right versus wrong. Now I don’t want to sound like a broken record, but I do believe previous blogposts like this and this are quite comprehensive for how I pay proper attention as an investor.

Emerging LPs are not immune to the lack of perspective as well. My hope and my goal is for how to be just as important if not more than the what. And for the why to be just as or more important than the how. It’s because of that, I write essays like this and this. And of course, it’s why I started Superclusters because I, too, am looking for how to pay proper attention to the next generation of venture investors. (Stay tuned for the coming Monday for episode four where we unpack the bull and bear case of early distributions in a fund!)

Photo by Shane Aldendorff on Unsplash


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


The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.

Three Lessons For Creating Unforgettable Experiences

games, playing, child

As those close to me know, over the past few weeks, I’ve been knee-deep in some new projects. Projects I haven’t been this excited to produce in a long while. One of which is around experiences.

At the same time, as friends and long-time readers of this humble blog know, I am no stranger to the world of social experiments and experiences. I still don’t have a great catch-all term for it. They’re not just another set of “events.” Events just remind me of the same conference, fireside chat, or happy hour playbook. But I try to take my events a step further. So, naturally, given my fascination around building experiences, I walk hand-in-hand with both psychological research and game design. The former of which I share a bit more in previous blogposts than the latter.

So, I’m going to dedicate this essay to three of the lessons I picked up in the latter.

  1. Create experiences that optimize for people who know no one else there.
  2. Don’t confuse complexity with depth.
  3. A great event is great not due to the event itself, but because of the story one gets to tell again and again.

1. Create experiences that optimize for people who know no one else there.

I had always had this somewhere in the back of my head. To design experiences where no one was ever left out. But when I caught up with a friend recently in New York, he codified it into what it is today. As someone who runs a design studio that builds immersive experiences in New York, he spends most of his time building experiences for strangers. And while friends may visit his exhibits together, the vast majority of his attendees do not know anyone else.

Take, for example, happy hours. Most happy hours aren’t designed for the person who knows no one. Usually the event itself is fairly laissez-faire. Most of which, the hosts don’t actively try to connect attendees. And so if you show up at a happy hour and the host is too busy to intro you to anyone, unless you’re an outgoing person, you’re likely standing near the edges, hoping to jump into a conversation if any group will let you. This often leads to events where people leave early and form cliques. It also optimizes for early birds, rather than the fashionably late.

Tactically, it’s creating excuses for people to jump in conversation. While not a problem for outgoing individuals, I need to empower everyone, including shy introverts, with tools to start conversations, where I and/or the experience shoulder the initial responsibility and blame to start conversations. That could be with customized fortune cookies where one is supposed to read their fortune to someone else. Or empowering people with a mission or an ask greater than themselves. For instance, to over-simplify it a bit, “I’m trying to put together a small group of everyone who’s wearing glasses tonight. Do you mind helping me find out all the names of the guests who are wearing glasses?” Or “I’m trying to resolve a debate with my co-host. Pineapples or no pineapples on pizza. I’m all for pineapples, but she isn’t. Can you help me find more allies?”

2. Don’t confuse complexity with depth.

This is unfortunately a fallacy I often find myself spiraling down the longer I’m given to ponder. And I lose myself in intellectual complexity.

Many years ago when a couple friend and I first decided to host an escape room in a mansion over three days and two nights, the greatest question we had was: How do we create an immersive experience over multiple days? And retain that level of immersion throughout? I thought, hell, what if we created a brand new language for the event. One that all guests would have to learn and practice throughout the event. We’d ease them in slowly, but the biggest puzzle could only be solved through adequate mastery in this new language. This easily gave me the greatest injection of dopamine when planning for the event. And I went deep, talking with linguistic professors, studying how Tolkien created Quenya, and how Cameron and Paul Frommer created the Na’vi language.

It was truly interesting to me and to many of my friends. But unfortunately, through user testing, to most others, while interesting to hear its backstory, was not fun to practice. I had ended up developing it to a level to where it departed from its English roots to resembling language of Scandinavian origin. Because of its complexity and how there were more guests who were English speakers than speakers of this new language, immersion broke almost instantaneously.

The great Mark Rosewater once defined interesting as intellectual stimulation and fun as emotional stimulation. While they’re not mutually exclusive, it’s important to not confuse the two.

There’s a great Maya Angelou line that I, like many others, like to reference. “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” And it is no less true for gamified designs. Emotional satisfaction often runs deeper and longer than intellectual satisfaction. The former has a greater chance of becoming a “core memory,” to borrow from the brilliant minds behind Pixar’s Inside Out, than the latter.

I was lucky to learn this lesson from one of the greatest designers of card games alive today. It was on a call earlier this year, where I was telling him about all the awesome bells and whistles I was planning on implementing for an upcoming experience. And I asked what he thought. To which, he responded: “Kill all complexity. Complexity is not a substitute for depth. Rely on your audience for depth. The more borders, the harder it is enjoy. Too few, it’s chaotic. Find the absolute minimum number of borders.”

The goal of creating systems is to create opportunities for serendipity. To create opportunities where people can dive deep. Not to force people to take the plunge when they may not be ready.

His advice just happens to rhyme with a quote I’ve always kept somewhere in the back of my mind, but now sits on the wall above my PC.

“Your ability to solve problems with magic in a satisfying way is directly proportional to how well the reader understands said magic.” — Sanderson’s First Law of Magic

3. A great event is great not due to the event itself, but because of the story one gets to tell again and again.

Under the ambiance of MarieBelle, which I still so fondly remember the moment my friend told me this, she said, “A great event is great not due to the event itself, but because of the story one gets to tell again and again.” It’s the truest definition of surprising and delighting. She was someone who used to work on the Dreamweavers team at Eleven Madison Park when Will Guidara was still there. As such the above lesson was a page out of Will Guidara‘s book Unreasonable Hospitality, whose best known for how intentionally he took front of the house hospitality at 11 Madison Park, one of the greatest restaurants in the world. 4 stars on New York Times, and 3 Michelin stars. He also happened to be the person who conceived the Dreamweavers team there. Just to give you an idea of how seriously they take their roles

First off, the core of the event itself — the meat, the protein — has to be great. If it’s a tofu burger, it better be a damn well-marinated fat slice of egg tofu, double-fried to perfection. To Malcolm Gladwell, that’s the meal.

And only once you have it all, what’s the cherry on top? What’s the candy? Why would people want to talk about it? For events, that’s:

  • Delivering surprises — gifts and/or experiences they do not expect
  • Transferrable pieces of knowledge — insights, frameworks, or trivia knowledge that are useful even after the event
  • Meeting great people WITH great stories — “Did you know that [so-and-so] did X?” And for this to happen not just opportunistically but at scale, finding ways to help people share stories of vulnerability or of adventures that have yet to grace any public media is key. The easiest way is through questions. The slightly harder way is through a set of triggers where it makes sharing such a story natural.

In closing

I am, as always, a work-in-progress. And with the events I’ll continue to host this year, I’m going to learn more. And in time, be able to share more of my lessons, trials, and tribulations in this journey. In hopes, this will aid or inspire you on your path.

Photo by Holly Landkammer on Unsplash


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


The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.