Travels in 2015

San Francisco is an amazing place to live in. But there’s so much in the world to see and so many interesting opportunities elsewhere that travel has become a big part of my personal and professional life.

2015 began for me in Maui. My first time in Hawaii, to ring in the new year with friends, proved to be as relaxing as Hawaii’s reputation promised.

Keynote speeches brought me to places like Cancun, Las Vegas, New Orleans, Nashville, Austin, and Seattle. For fun, I traveled to Turkey (amazing!), Egypt, Copenhagen, Tanzania (safari!), and the Balkans. No bad stops among them.

I was grateful to be included in the American Council on Germany’s Young Leaders fellowship and the Schusterman Reality Tech group in Israel. I got to know Germany and Israel well and became friends with young leaders from both countries. I hope to spend more time in each place.

I spent decent amount of time on the east coast of the U.S., for a wedding in Cape Cod (my first time there) and had extended visits in two of my favorite U.S. cities: Washington D.C. and New York. Closer to home, I was reminded of the never ending desert landscape of Nevada during my first Burning Man experience; the stunning beauty of the California coast at the Post Ranch Inn; and the perfect year-round weather of San Diego.

I’m on nodding terms with Dubai airport now, where I was twice in 2015, including an extended 8 day stint for work. Dubai airport now boasts more annual travelers than London Heathrow. And the city itself is unlike any other.

I ended 2015 — and rang in New Year’s 2016 just a few weeks ago — in Havana, Cuba. Have a great 2016, wherever your travels take you…

Lessons and Impressions from Cuba

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Totally fun to be driven around in this old car.

I spent New Year’s in Havana. Now seemed like an ideal moment to head there. Within a year, there’ll be commercial flights to Cuba from the United States. Tourism will boom. The island will get broadly available internet access. The old cars might be slowly replaced with modern cars. And so on. While great for the people of Cuba — always the most important consideration when contemplating the effects of globalization  — it will make it a less interesting place to visit as a tourist.

Havana is, overall, still quite poor. There aren’t any super luxurious hotels. There aren’t fancy restaurants, and the vast majority of restaurants are still government-owned. There isn’t widespread internet access or cell coverage, and that which exists is prohibitively slow and expensive (even for Americans). Credit cards aren’t accepted anywhere and the ATMs don’t work for foreigners. Outside of the old town in Havana, you see all the classic signs of poverty: run down homes, stray dogs, many people sleeping in one bedroom. One tour guide told us that the government monthly food rations hardly last a couple weeks.

The Cuban government is slowly loosening its authoritarian grip on its people. Just in the last few years people have been able to buy and own real estate. Just in the last few years they can now travel outside the country (other countries are reticent to offer visas but at least it’s no longer the Cuban government that’s the main problem). Just in the last few years international news and entertainment, illegally smuggled in via weekly shipments of USB sticks from Miami, has become de facto acceptable among sophisticated residents. More and more, it seems like Cuba is embracing elements of the market economy.

Some random impressions and lessons from the trip:

  • In the taxi from the airport to our casa particular — an Airbnb equivalent — we drove on smooth, paved streets, with “Hello” by Adele blasting on the radio. I was not expecting to hear Adele within 10 minutes of hitting the road in Cuba.
  • It didn’t take long to notice something different, though. A huge image of Che Guevera was lit up on the wall of one building as we drove into the city. And we began passing old American cars from the 50’s.
  • Cuba was super humid. Welcome to the Caribbean. The sweating was non-stop. Not fun. You take a shower, and begin sweating the moment you step outside.
  • The most crippling effect of the embargo for tourists — which persists, even as Obama has re-instated diplomatic channels — seems to be the stone-age banking system. No ATM machines accept American cards. Long lines to change money. No credit cards.
  • Learning about socialism — even as it slowly weakens under Raul, Fidel’s brother — was fascinating. Our tour guide was assigned a job after college by the government. He received food rations each month. “Why is this building so run down?” we asked someone. “Because the government hasn’t fixed it yet.” Can you imagine a government being responsible for maintaining every building in an entire country?
  • Although Russian cars are still on the road, there isn’t much fondness for Russia in general, obviously. After the Soviet Union collapsed in 89, Cuba’s economy — heavily subsidized by the Russians — plunged into a prolonged crisis. In the 90’s, food was scarce. Poverty rampant. They had to re-build their economy. In the 80’s, English was the language of the enemy. Today, Russian language is rarely heard in schools, and English is the clear secondary language on the island.
  • There are a bunch of fun, obvious tourist things to do in Havana. We had a drink at the Flordita bar, where Hemingway supposedly hung out and where the daiquiri was created. We enjoyed a meal in Havana’s Chinatown — Chinese and Mexican food serve as comfort food abroad for Americans. Hotel Nacional, the old famous hotel that played a cameo in The Godfather 2, sports a nice pool area and good views. Maybe the best thing we did was rent an old American Chevy for an hour, hire a driver, and just drive around in a convertible for an hour, feeling like we were in a time capsule.
  • There are two currencies in Cuba. This will be the source of societal unrest soon: uneducated taxi drivers who are driving tourists around and getting paid in the tourist currency — 25x the local peso rate — are making a lot more money than doctors and lawyers.
  • On the first day, as we hunted for a store from which to buy bottles of water, I asked someone where a supermercado was. Then I realized there weren’t supermarkets in Cuba. When we finally found a small market — filled with mostly generically labeled food — they were out of many staples. “There’ll be beer tomorrow, but not today,” the market owner told us.
  • Thinking of going to Cuba? This Medium post has a lot of good info for U.S. passport holders. It’s way easier than I thought it would be.

One of my beliefs about travel is that there are places that are good to live in, places that are good to travel to, and they’re not always the same place. Los Angeles is my go-to example: great place to live in, not a great place to visit as a tourist. Most poor countries are not especially enticing to live in, but those with fascinating histories, bright futures, or otherwise unique cultures, can be excellent places to spend a week or two as a tourist. Cuba fits in this boat. The recent Cold War-era history is super interesting. The economic structure of socialism is interesting. And the culture is still vibrant: dancing, music, cigars, and a generally friendly people. The locals seem unusually present in the moment since no is staring down at their phones. I found myself more present too, being off the grid for a full week. An unexpected benefit of visiting an unconnected island!

Book Review: Deep Work by Cal Newport

My friend Cal Newport’s new book Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World comes out on January 5, 2016, and I highly recommend it.

As Cal defines it, “Deep work is the ability to focus without distraction on a cognitively demanding task. It’s a skill that allows you to quickly master complicated information and produce better results in less time.” Deep work is a superpower in the modern economy, Cal argues, as fewer and fewer people possess the ability of going deep. Instead they get lost in a blur of social media and email and other infosnack addictions.

I’m sold on the diagnosis. Deep work — producing the sort of valuable accomplishments that only happen with hard focus over a long period of time — is critical in many industries. It’s an increasingly rare skill, which makes it all the more valuable in those environments that demand it.

Cal’s solution — the “what do you do about this?” section in the book — is bold. Plan your days diligently week-by-week. Go cold turkey on social media. Embrace boredom and train your mind to not require constant stimulation. Among other ideas.

Cal’s strategy benefits from at least two work patterns, which are not universal to all professionals. First, you know what you want to do and what your priorities are. Clarity around a personal mission drives structured work processes. Unfortunately, not everyone is so lucky. Second, you have a relatively structured, not-especially-externally-facing job in which pre-planning is possible, social media absence not detrimental (i.e. you don’t have a boss that insists upon it in order to talk to customers), and so on.

In my long review of The Age of the Infovore, I describe the advantages of a life filled with diverse, “distracting” information inputs, and push back a bit against claims that all distractions are bad distractions. To this end, I won’t be abandoning social media anytime soon.

That said, as social media has expanded deeper and deeper into our lives, I’ve become more and more concerned about my own ability to focus and do deep sea thinking for long periods of time. (How many times have I opened new browser tabs and gotten distracted while even writing this blog post? I’m too embarrassed to say.) What’s more, when I reflect on my accomplishments, I find myself deriving more satisfaction and pride from the things that took a long time to complete and are demonstrably “harder” than average to execute. Publishing books, for example, or building out teams inside organizations. So I find myself more and more drawn to Cal’s thinking. And, even if you don’t accept his prescription wholesale, there are various practical nuggets that anyone can and probably should adopt to be a more effective professional.

Over the years, Cal and I have talked about the thesis for Deep Work many times on walks, over drinks, and on phone calls. To see his thinking evolve and sharpen into this book — the latest in a series of winners — has been a real pleasure. I hope my 2016 involves more deep work.

What I’ve Been Reading

I’ve been flipping through a bunch of books that people have sent me. A few recent ones on my Kindle that I read in full:

1. How: Why How We Do Anything Means Everything by Dov Seidman

Dov is founder and CEO of LRN, a leading corporate learning firm that specializes in ethics and compliance. His book How encapsulates his philosophy of business (and life) very well. It’s a deep examination of what corporate “values” are and why they matter. A few paragraphs I enjoyed (taken out of order):

Roughly two centuries ago, the Scottish philosopher David Hume observed that the moral imagination diminishes with distance. It follows that the moral imagination should increase as the world becomes smaller with the globalization of information and capital. And so it has. We are no longer distant, and therefore we need to reawaken our moral imaginations.

Engagement scores among U.S. and many global workers have tumbled in recent years. I think that’s because we’ve been spending too much time engaging workers with carrots and sticks, and not nearly enough time inspiring them with values and missions worthy of their commitment.

I call it the paradox of success—that you can’t achieve success by pursuing it directly. Inspirational leaders understand that real, sustainable value can be achieved only when you pursue something greater than yourself that makes a difference in the lives of others.

It reminded me of the old story about two guys doing masonry work on a building. The first one, when asked what he was doing, says, “Laying bricks.” The second replies, “Building a cathedral.” Some people see themselves as bricklayers. Angel builds cathedrals. He doesn’t define himself narrowly, as simply a package delivery person

A Swiss person might tend to distrust a South Korean because, in the Swiss person’s view, Koreans don’t respect authority, and that Korean might in turn disrespect the Swiss believing that they do not sufficiently value friendship and loyalty

Metaphorically, leaders don’t show up and tell you perfect time; as James C. Collins and Jerry I. Porras told us so brilliantly in Built to Last, leaders build clocks that keep telling the time whether they are there or not.

2. The Power to Compete by Hiroshi Mikitani and Ryoichi Mikitani

In Tokyo a couple years ago, for the release of The Start-up of You in Japanese, Reid and Mikitani, the founder/CEO of Rakuten, did a fireside chat. I was impressed by Miki’s comments that evening and by his accomplishments more generally, obviously. Rakuten is an internet giant by any standard. But more striking than Rakuten is his total commitment to revitalizing Japanese entrepreneurial culture at large. This short book is a conversation between he and his economist father about what Japan needs to do to win in the 21st century. A surprisingly enlightening book and recommended for Japanophiles.

3. Why Information Grows by Cesar Hidalgo

I couldn’t wrap my head around the overall thesis here but the first half of the book contained some quotable nuggets about innovation, information, and globalization. A few quotes:

There are two pieces of bread. You ate two. I ate none. Average consumption: one bread per capita. —NICANOR PARRA

Today our world is still linguistically fragmented, but that fragmentation is both declining and structured. Twelve thousand years ago, humans spoke an estimated twelve thousand languages. An estimated six thousand languages are spoken worldwide today, but most of the world’s population communicates in a few global languages. And in many important online and offline forums, including Twitter, Wikipedia, and book translations, English has emerged as the “hub” language bridging communication between most other languages.20 As a Chilean married to a Russian, working with students from the United States, Israel, Bulgaria, Macedonia, Chile, Argentina, Germany, and India, I am a living example of the benefits that the existence of a global hub language

Knowledge and knowhow are so “heavy” that when it comes to a simple product such as a cellphone battery, it is infinitely easier to bring the lithium atoms that lie dormant in the Atacama Desert to Korea than to bring the knowledge of lithium batteries that resides in Korean scientists to the bodies of the miners who populate the Atacaman cities of Antofagasta and Calama. Our world is marked by great international differences in countries’ ability to crystallize imagination. These differences emerge because countries differ in the knowledge and knowhow that are embodied in their populations, and because accumulating knowledge and knowhow in people is difficult.

It was in this Q&A that a student asked, “Pep, if we built a team of robots, would you come and coach it?” His reply was short and cunning. He said, and I paraphrase: “The main challenge of coaching a team is not figuring out a game plan, but getting that game plan into the heads of the players. Since in the case of robots I do not see that as a challenge, I kindly decline your offer.” Pep’s answer summarized succinctly one of the main challenges of working with teams of humans. His years of coaching experience had taught him that one of the most difficult aspects of his work was not just figuring out a game plan but distributing the plan among his players.

Book Notes: Drive by Dan Pink

I respect Dan Pink a ton. He writes original, provocative business books. He speaks well. He’s intellectually curious. And, full disclosure, he’s also been helpful to us with The Start-up of You and The Alliance. He did a Q&A with Reid, Chris, and me on the Amazon page for The Alliance.

I’ve been meaning to read his book Drive for awhile. You see it everywhere — airports, bookstores, office shelves. It met my high expectations. It’s an engaging tour of what drives people to be the way they are. My highlights from the book below. (I had one nice small surprise reading it. Pink was telling a story that seemed so familiar that I looked up the endnote and he cited my old AEI piece on side projects.)

Bottom Line: Drive is a good read for any manager thinking about how to get the most of his or her people.


[Organizations] still operate from assumptions about human potential and individual performance that are outdated, unexamined, and rooted more in folklore than in science. They continue to pursue practices such as short-term incentive plans and pay-for-performance schemes in the face of mounting evidence that such measures usually don’t work and often do harm. Worse, these practices have infiltrated our schools, where we ply our future workforce with iPods, cash, and pizza coupons to “incentivize” them to learn. Something has gone wrong.

Try to encourage a kid to learn math by paying her for each workbook page she completes—and she’ll almost certainly become more diligent in the short term and lose interest in math in the long term.

[Paying people to donate blood] It tainted an altruistic act and “crowded out” the intrinsic desire to do something good. Doing good is what blood donation is all about. It provides what the American Red Cross brochures say is “a feeling that money can’t buy.” That’s why voluntary blood donations invariably increase during natural disasters and other calamities. But if governments were to pay people to help their neighbors during these crises, donations might decline.

Goals that people set for themselves and that are devoted to attaining mastery are usually healthy.

Contrast that approach with behavior sparked by intrinsic motivation. When the reward is the activity itself—deepening learning, delighting customers, doing one’s best—there are no shortcuts. The only route to the destination is the high road. In some sense, it’s impossible to act unethically because the person who’s disadvantaged isn’t a competitor but yourself.

[Fining parents who pick up kids late] The theory underlying the fine, said Gneezy and Rustichini, was straightforward: “When negative consequences are imposed on a behavior, they will produce a reduction of that particular response.” In other words, thwack the parents with a fine, and they’ll stop showing up late. But that’s not what happened. “After the introduction of the fine we observed a steady increase in the number of parents coming late,” the economists wrote. “The rate finally settled, at a level that was higher, and almost twice as large as the initial one.” And in language reminiscent of Harry Harlow’s head scratching, they write that the existing literature didn’t account for such a result. Indeed, the “possibility of an increase in the behavior being punished was not even considered.” Up pops another bug in Motivation 2.0. One reason most parents showed up on time is that they had a relationship with the teachers—who, after all, were caring for their precious sons and daughters—and wanted to treat them fairly. Parents had an intrinsic desire to be scrupulous about punctuality. But the threat of a fine—like the promise of the kronor in the blood experiment—edged aside that third drive.

In other words, where “if-then” rewards are a mistake, shift to “now that” rewards—as in “Now that you’ve finished the poster and it turned out so well, I’d like to celebrate by taking you out to lunch.” As Deci and his colleagues explain, “If tangible rewards are given unexpectedly to people after they have finished a task, the rewards are less likely to be experienced as the reason for doing the task and are thus less likely to be detrimental to intrinsic motivation.”

But take a step back and think again. Management didn’t emanate from nature. It wasn’t handed to us from God. It’s something that somebody invented. It is, as the strategy guru Gary Hamel has observed, a technology—and an 1850s technology at that. Now look around your office or home. How many nineteenth-century technologies are you still using? Sure, some companies have oiled management’s gears, and others have sanded off its rough edges. But at its core this technology hasn’t changed much in more than a hundred years. Its paramount goal remains compliance, its central ethic remains control, and its chief tools remain extrinsic motivators.

Autonomy, as they see it, is different from independence. It’s not the rugged, go-it-alone, rely-on-nobody individualism of the American cowboy. It means acting with choice—which means we can be both autonomous and happily interdependent with others. And while the idea of independence has national and political reverberations, autonomy appears to be a human concept rather than a western one.

But the billable hour has little place in Motivation 3.0. For nonroutine tasks, including law, the link between how much time somebody spends and what that somebody produces is irregular and unpredictable.

The opposite of autonomy is control. And since they sit at different poles of the behavioral compass, they point us toward different destinations. Control leads to compliance; autonomy leads to engagement.

According to the consulting firm McKinsey & Co., in some countries as little as 2 to 3 percent of the workforce is highly engaged in their work.

Goldilocks tasks offer us the powerful experience of inhabiting the zone, of living on the knife’s edge between order and disorder, of—as painter Fritz Scholder once described it—“walking the tightrope between accident and discipline.”

So the shrewdest enterprises afford employees the freedom to sculpt their jobs in ways that bring a little bit of flow to otherwise mundane duties. Amy Wrzesniewski and Jane Dutton, two business school professors, have studied this phenomenon among hospital cleaners, nurses, and hairdressers. They found, for instance, that some members of the cleaning staff at hospitals, instead of doing the minimum the job required, took on new tasks—from chatting with patients to helping make nurses’ jobs go more smoothly. Adding these more absorbing challenges increased these cleaners’ satisfaction and boosted their own views of their skills. By reframing aspects of their duties, they helped make work more playful and more fully their own. 

“Purpose provides activation energy for living,” psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi told me in an interview. “I think that evolution has had a hand in selecting people who had a sense of doing something beyond themselves.”

That’s the thinking behind the simple and effective way Robert B. Reich, former U.S. labor secretary, gauges the health of an organization. He calls it the “pronoun test.” When he visits a workplace, he’ll ask the people employed there some questions about the company. He listens to the substance of their response, of course. But most of all, he listens for the pronouns they use. Do the workers refer to the company as “they”? Or do they describe it in terms of “we”? “They” companies and “we” companies, he says, are very different places.

According to The Boston Globe, they believe that “companies can improve their employees’ emotional well-being by shifting some of their budget for charitable giving so that individual employees are given sums to donate, leaving them happier even as the charities of their choice benefit.” In other words, handing individual employees control over how the organization gives back to the community might do more to improve their overall satisfaction than one more “if-then” financial incentive.

Lessons and Impressions of Egypt

cairo

After a week in Dubai for business, I headed over to Cairo for the RiseUp Entrepreneurship Summit. The conference was stunning in its scale. Some 4,000 registrants crowded into several sprawling campuses to network, listen to speakers, and get exposed to the entrepreneurial dream. I also spent a day being a tourist. As always, the locals on the ground were exceptionally nice and helpful and oftentimes inspiring.

Here were some of my takeaways from visiting Egypt for the first time.

Pure chaos. From the moment you land in Cairo, you begin to spot cultural norms that are telling. After the plane touched down, while it was still moving and taxi-ing to the gate, the local Egyptians just got up and started taking their bags out of the overheard compartments. The flight attendants didn’t bother to try to stop them. Then, upon exiting the airport and getting in my driver’s car, the driver noticed me looking for a seatbelt that doesn’t exist. “Don’t worry,” he says, “You don’t need one. You’ll see.” We began our seatbelt-less drive into downtown Cairo. We never moved faster than 15 MPH. The traffic is so stifling that even if there were an accident no one would get hurt since everyone’s moving so slowly. The slow speeds don’t stop folks from honking, though. The honking squeals non-stop throughout the city as cars maneuver on roads without lanes and pedestrians attempt to cross streets with no cross walk signal.

One day, with a guide, we stopped and watched a bunch of drivers attempt, through sheer force, to convert a two-way street into a one-way street to accommodate the direction they were heading. Quite literally they all just turned into the two way street and took over both lanes in order to block the cars trying to head down the street toward them. The tour guide, an Egyptian who’s traveled a lot internationally, cursed his compatriots for ignoring most the basic rules of the road. And then he said wistfully, “The thing I love most about the U.S. is how cars pull over to the side when emergency vehicles flash their sirens.”

When I relayed these anecdotes to some locals, they affectionally referred to Cairo as “organized chaos,” a phrase that didn’t totally resonate. I found the chaos more energy-draining than energy-adding — especially as a pedestrian.

The legacy of the revolution. “There was no Egypt for the couple years after the revolution of 2011,” one local told me. By which he meant: laws were not really enforced. Uncertainty reigned.  The uprisings — which gave rise to the broader Arab Spring — ejected an unelected despot but created a power vacuum then filled by the Muslim Brotherhood, who were subsequently overthrown in a coup by the military. During these years of tumult, the civic institutions of Egypt eroded. Smart people left. Tourism plunged. The country is trying to pull itself up and out of all this. It’s a work in progress. Those who have stayed are committed to defining the next chapter in Egypt’s history. They are the reason for hope.

Entrepreneurship ecosystem. Many smart people who feel powerless to change the politics of the country are turning to entrepreneurship instead. And many people who are simply lifelong entrepreneurs through and through are stepping up and beginning to organize themselves. There’s a nascent entrepreneurship ecosystem in Egypt led in large part by the remarkable Ahmed El Alfi, who’s renovated the Greek Campus to be a hotbed of startup activity in Cairo. He also launched the regional startup accelerator Flat6Labs. My good friend Chris Schroeder (who’s in the photo above with me) wrote a book that is the definitive account of 21st century middle east tech entrepreneurship — it features Alfi. On the flip side of most of what’s broken in the middle east lies an opportunity for an entrepreneur to build a solution. Opportunity is the flip side of frustration.

Interestingly, one entrepreneur we met with described his very impressive business as a “form of resistance” against the government. Resistance through capitalism; resistance through global trade. It’s quite moving to hear these sentiments and quite true, I think. Running his company is one of the best ways to shape Egypt’s future with the values that he believes in. This motivation does complicate a traditional business analysis of his company, though, since it’s not purely — or even primarily — being driven to maximize shareholder returns.

The word among Egyptian entrepreneurship ecosystem leaders is that what’s holding back the entrepreneurs is lack of capital. Money hasn’t caught up with the talent yet. Seems likely. Markets tend to be efficient…eventually. In Silicon Valley, where capital for startups is abundant, perhaps too abundant, we tend to forget just how special it is to have dozens of investors compete for the opportunity to invest in a startup. Growth markets like Egypt seem to be a couple institutional, mid to late stage investors away from an environment in which most of the credible local entrepreneurs can raise seed and early stage funding from local investors (and get terms that are ever more founder friendly). Will these investors be funding billion dollar Silicon Valley style unicorns? Not for awhile, but that’s not the only way to generate great venture returns — and it’s certainly not the only model for building a great business.

One small but interesting regional dynamic: Given the overall volatility in the middle east, Dubai has emerged as a regional hub that attracts the most international talent and capital. More than one Egyptian entrepreneur prefaced a conversation with me in Cairo by saying, “I haven’t moved to Dubai because…” Where the best local talent ends up will determine which ecosystems thrive.

I didn’t spend enough time in Egypt to make any meaningful conclusions about what’s happening there economically (and certainly politically). But the shift of geo-political power from west to east, the rise of a global middle class empowered by technology, the faster spread of innovation through interconnected populations — these are some of the central stories of our lifetime. Egypt will be part of this story. American investors like Dave McClure recognize this macro trend and are putting their money where their mouths are. More from Silicon Valley will follow. Why? Because entrepreneurial people chase opportunity even when there’s risk — perhaps especially when there’s risk. And the next great opportunity is on the frontier, where billions of people are coming online with smartphones…

Pyramids. As Richard Nixon might have said, the Great Pyramid of Giza is a very great pyramid indeed. So amazing to see the scale up close and personal. It’s a short drive from Cairo and it’s a great time to visit because of the lack of tourists.

Embassy areas that feel like war zones. It’s eerie to walk around the row of embassies in Cairo, including the streets around the U.S. Embassy. It’s quiet because armed soldiers walk around on blocked off streets. Ginormous blocks of concrete stack up along the roads. Our tour guide reminisced that when he was a kid growing up in Cairo he would go over to the American embassy on the weekends and watch movies in the grass yard inside the courtyard, right under the American flag. American kids would pass out candy. Today, you can hardly see the flag from the outside, obscured as it is by the concrete and barbed wire. Our guide asked wistfully, “What has happened to the world?”

Selfies for everyone. A striking moment in the gate area flying from Dubai to Cairo: A woman fully veiled in a burqa making multiple attempts at the perfect selfie.

Trump in the Muslim world. Muslims are listening to Donald Trump’s bigoted proposals. The damage to the American idea is incalculable.

Relationship Building vs. Networking via Reid

I wrote a piece on LinkedIn about the difference between networking and relationship building, using recent media profiles of Reid Hoffman — which mistakenly refer to him as a “networker” — as the impetus for the post. Opening:

My co-author Reid Hoffman, as co-founder of Linkedin and a successful investor in Silicon Valley, is the subject of many media profiles. Frequently, these profiles extol the power of his network. NPR’s story about our book The Start-up of Youwas headlined “Networking Tips from The Ultimate Networker.” Last month, Bloomberg magazine’s long and flattering profile of Reid was headlined in the print edition “Tech’s Ultimate Networker.”

It’s an unfortunate word choice that distorts how Reid thinks about relationships. And it misses the deeper point about what it means to work in a networked age.

Read the whole thing.

Book Notes: Selfish, Shallow, and Self-Absorbed

daumcoverMeghan Daum is on the “read everything she writes” list for me. I loved her essay collection The Unspeakable. She recently edited a collection of essays from other writers titled Selfish, Shallow, and Self-Absorbed: Sixteen Writers on Their Decision Not to Have Kids. It’s a set of wise, authentic women and men who decided not to have children and who share their reflections on the matter.

Daum writes in her introduction, “It’s about time we stop mistaking self-knowledge for self-absorption — and realize that nobody has a monopoly on selfishness.” I agree. I don’t have a decisive view on the having kids topic myself, but I found these essayists refreshing and different. We live in a culture that rarely provides air time for their points of view.

Some highlights below.

Paul Lisicky confesses, “I’d probably say yes if I ever become involved with someone who wanted to be a parent…though I might be saying it with the same level of commitment with which I’d say, ‘Of course I’d move to Tokyo.'”

Courtney Hodell’s essay is one of the best. Some quotes from her: “When you talk about not wanting children, it is impossible to avoid sounding defensive, like you’re trying to prove the questionable beauty of a selfish and too-tidy existence. It is hard to come across as anything other than brittle, rigid, controlling, against life itself.”

“I, too, was sometimes aghast at the short-fibered thoughts of my friends whose small children beseeches or bellowed as their stories were begun again and again and never finished, whereas I got to spoil myself with long hours of unspooling daydreams.”

“All the flailing around, the mad activity — going to parties, falling in love, buying houses, striving at work — could be smashed like a soda can into this flat fact: we have children so they can have children so they can have children. I had a blast of vertigo, as when you look into a puddle and see the stars falling away behind your head.”

On her childless boyfriend holding her niece for the first time: “When Nathan, my boyfriend of five years, held Elsa for the first time, he wept — big sparklers caught in his lower eyelashes, too light to drop. ‘Not sadness,’ he said, ‘just big feeling.’ Now the decision is made. But the decision is not past. No matter how it came about — was it my procrastination; disinclination; anxiety; self-absorption? — we live with its consequences every day.”


Laura Kipnis, on the idea having children is natural:

“But what’s with all the sentimentality about nature anyway, and the kowtowing to it, as though adhering to the “natural” had some sort of ethical force? It’s not like nature is such a friend to womankind, not like nature doesn’t just blithely kill women off on a random basis during childbirth or anything. No one who faces up to the real harshness of nature can feel very beningly about its tyranny. Sure, we like nature when it’s a beautiful day on the beach; less so when a tidal wave kills your family or a shark bites off your warm.”

The idea of maternal instinct is an invented concept that arises at a particular point in history — circa the Industrial Revolution.


“The other move put on you by the parenting lobby is that you should have kids because you might regret not doing so when you get older. This seems demented and irrelevant in equal measure since while life may not have a purpose, it certainly has consequences, one of which is the accumulation of a vast, coastal shelf of uncut, 100-percent-pure regret. And this will happen whether you have no kids, one kid, or a dozen. When it comes to regret, everyone’s a winner! It’s the jackpot you are guaranteed to win.


“Who could blame anyone, child or adult, for wanting to enrich his experience by sharing it with a friend, a caring witness? We all want that. We wall want someone to say, “That thing you love is so interesting and worthy that I have to love it, too.”


“Children learn quickly that they can expect unconditional love only from their parents. To reassure themselves that they are secure in that love, they test it, push it, measure it, and test themselves against it. The parent is the only person they can cross and vex with such volume and constancy without getting an injunction to go to hell and never come back.”

The Hidden Chambers in the Heart

This is a beautiful review by Parul Seghal of Mary Gaitskill’s latest book. For example:

Hawthorne ‘‘is aware of the hidden chambers in the heart,’’ he told me. ‘‘He is aware that there are things that people won’t talk about and there are things that people can’t talk about — and those aren’t the same things. He wants to reveal all those layers.’’ Gaitskill’s fiction unfolds in these psychological spaces; she knows that we, unlike plants, don’t always grow toward the light, that sometimes we cannot even be coaxed toward it.

And then this beautiful setting of a scene:

Two weeks later, I took a train to Tivoli, N.Y., a small town in the Hudson Valley where Gaitskill used to live and where she was visiting friends. This is the trip Velvet experiences in ‘‘The Mare,’’ the same shock of tumbling out of the sweltering city into a world so tended, so white and gaudily green. Gaitskill came to collect me from the station. She wore a soft-looking Mets Tshirt, jeans, running shoes — all gray, a gray that almost matches her hair. The effect, from a distance, was rather like chain mail. She was more aloof today, slightly hooded. ‘‘Brace yourself for the preciousness,’’ she said as we drove into town, passing yoga studios and expensive sandwich shops and a laundromat called the Lost Sock.

It was the late-afternoon lull, and most everything was shuttered. No one would sell us an expensive sandwich. We bought lemonade and cookies and sat outside a cafe in the strong sun. Immediately, Gaitskill started rehashing our last discussion, irritated by some of my questions. She thought them foolish. She is fluent when forceful, all the hesitation drains from her voice.

I told her I understood. I told her I was sorry. I told her we would have to discuss these things anyway. (I had asked if her book was bleak or happy, and about how her work had been regarded by critics.) She’s right not to want to focus entirely on the reception of her work — but how else could we correct misconceptions? How else could we discuss the life a book leads in the world? Her pique passed. She seemed satisfied, even, it felt to me, soothed that I could — or would — push back, however pleasantly. But I was left unsettled and alert, eating my cookie in large dry gobs. I thought of a line from ‘‘The Mare’’: ‘‘It felt like she was pressing on my weak spot, just to see what would happen.

Read the whole thing, if you’re feeling literary.

Using Your Mind to Watch Your Mind

Steve Silberman, in an interesting post titled What Kind of Buddhist Was Steve Jobs, Really? has an especially clear and concise description of how Buddhists view meditation:

Using the mind to watch the mind, and ultimately to change how the mind works, is known in cognitive psychology as metacognition. Beneath the poetic cultural trappings of Buddhism, what intensive meditation offers to long-term practitioners is a kind of metacognitive hack of the human operating system (a metaphor that probably crossed Jobs’ mind at some point.) Sitting zazen offered Jobs a practical technique for upgrading the motherboard in his head.

The classic Buddhist image of this hack is that thoughts are like clouds passing through a spacious blue sky. All your life, you’ve been convinced that this succession of clouds comprises a stable, enduring identity — a “self.” But Buddhists believe this self this is an illusion that causes unnecessary suffering as you inevitably face change, loss, disease, old age, and death. One aim of practice is to reveal the gaps or discontinuities — the glimpses of blue sky — between the thoughts, so you’re not so taken in by the illusion, but instead learn to identify with the panoramic awareness in which the clouds arise and disappear.