Impermanence Thought of the Day

Genghis Khan created the Mongol Empire in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. He ruled most of Asia and even parts of Europe. His word affected the lives of millions of people.

Today, he is just one more chapter in the rise and fall of empires. And most people have never heard of him, let alone think of him with any regularity.

Almost all of the most important, influential, and wealthiest people of our time will be utterly forgotten in just a few generations.

(Adapted from Joseph Goldstein’s book Mindfulness.)

From Anxiety Attacks to Mindfulness Startup

I recorded a 25 minute video chat with Dina Kaplan, founder & president of The Path, on The Path is a company in NYC that offers meditation classes to the masses.

Here’s an excerpt on how Dina suffered anxiety attacks as a tech entrepreneur in New York, traveled to India and elsewhere, and returned to found a mindfulness startup.

10 Day Meditation Retreat

I’m going off the grid shortly to spend 10 days meditating in silence. I’ll be engaged in the below meditation retreat. I will, of course, write about my experiences afterwards! See you on the other side.

New Essay: Happy Ambition

I just published a new essay on my web site titled Happy Ambition: Striving for Success, Avoiding Status Cocaine, and Prioritizing Happiness. In some sense it’s a follow up to my previous essay on wealth. It also covers some new ground.

These ideas came together over many months, and while they’re still a work in progress, I’m happy to share them now…in part to benefit from additional feedback!

Product Hunt Podcast with Brad Feld

Epic wisdom from Brad Feld on life and business in this conversation with Erik Torenberg on the Product Hunt podcast. I make a cameo at minute 17.

What It Means to Lead a Global Life (For Me, Anyway)

On my 18th birthday, I sent a message to a couple hundred people in my network who were older than me and asked them a single question: “What is the thing you most regret not doing when you were 18 years old?”

The recipients were a diverse bunch: entrepreneurs, writers, grad students, engineers, bankers.

One theme kept coming up in the replies: People regretted not traveling more when they were younger. For example, Dick Costolo, who later became CEO of Twitter, said: “I most regret not spending a year somewhere outside the US before going to college. I generally believe that spending a year abroad, anywhere abroad, offers you a much greater perspective on the world.” Venture capitalist Brad Feld said, among other things: “Not enough worldwide travel.”

At that point in time, I had never left the United States. Shortly after conducting the regret poll, I sought to address my lack of a passport—and preempt any late-in-life regret myself. I took some time off and traveled for nearly 2.5 months around the world. My trip had a twist: rather than stay at anonymous hotels, I crashed on the couches, beds, and futons of readers of my blog in countries ranging from China to India, Italy to Ireland. These readers took me into their homes, explained their cultures, and introduced me to a way of thinking that sometimes differed dramatically from my default worldview.

Traveling for the first time opened my eyes to many things, including to this: Entrepreneurial thinking comes in all shapes and sizes…and places. Until that point, I thought a “real” entrepreneur was someone who lived in Bay Area and created internet companies — someone just like me. Talk about living in a bubble. The blog reader who hosted me in Shanghai was just as adaptive, risk seeking, and networked as my friends in Silicon Valley and yet he wasn’t founding a new internet company. He was applying his entrepreneurial verve to his career as a digital musician. I began thinking: Perhaps entrepreneurship was more a life idea than a strictly business one; a global idea rather than a strictly Silicon Valley one.

Meeting entrepreneurial people around the world who embodied the best of the Silicon Valley mindset and skill set inspired my passion for The Start-up of You, the book I co-authored with Reid Hoffman. I spent two years of my life working on that project. In one sense, the book is about capturing the universal wisdom of the entrepreneurial mindset and skill set and making it accessible to a variety of people pursuing a variety of career paths—in a variety of countries and cultures.

Fast forward to today, I’ve traveled to 40+ countries. I’ve met with thousands of people in these countries. I’ve sat down with CEOs and bureaucrats, diplomats and educators, and too many entrepreneurs and investors to count. It’s been a whirlwind!

What began as an adventure in response to the wisdom of my network—travel while young, travel while you can!—turned into a major intellectual and impact project. And that, in turn, has created opportunities for me to contemplate and experience the phenomenon of globalization even more thoroughly.

The other week, I told a friend that I was committed to “living a global life.”

The first and most important part of a global life’s appeal is simplest: travel is fun. It’s fun in part because it’s a constant learning curve. So if you love learning, as I do, it’s hard not to love deciphering a culture and unpacking some deep rooted assumption somebody has simply because that’s the way it’s always worked in their culture. Sure, it can be disorienting to travel in a country in East Asia and discover that the street numbers of buildings are based on when the building was constructed instead of sequentially in order along a street. Or sure, it was frustrating to sit through 30 minutes of “thank yous” as the host of my event in Indonesia paid due respects to the various powerful people in the room, before calling me up on stage, leaving me only 30 minutes to speak. But the ideas behind that cultural norm—around hierarchy, respect of elders, status signaling, the power dynamic between speakers and audiences—are fascinating. And utterly fun to understand.

I Pledge Allegiance to…the Tribe That Is Humanity

Travel, in all its learning and fun, involves going out in the world. Yet, building a global life also forces you travel within. Travel has deepened my own perspective on how I relate to the strangers around me. Leading a global life, to me, means developing a worldview—a personal philosophy—that accommodates what you might call “cosmopolitanism.”

Kwame Appiah, in his book Cosmopolitanism: Ethics in a World of Strangers, which I reviewed here, says a challenge of modern life is to “take minds and hearts formed over the long millennia of living in local troops and equip them with ideas and institutions that will allow us to live together as the global tribe we have become.” Robert Wright has argued that many of the problems in the world today could be attributed to our inability to understand the perspective of the other people in our global tribe. If we could put ourselves in the shoes of “strangers,” if we better understood the perspective of the person we’re fighting against or attempting to influence, we’d have a better chance at finding a “win-win” outcome. We’d more easily accommodate non-zero sum thinking. World peace, never a guaranteed thing, may well depend on our ability to increase a sense of “non-zero sumness,” Wright argues—more of a global consciousness—between and among the world’s population.

Technology helps with this. Individuals have more and more opportunities to directly connect to each other – and thus become more empathetic of each other. Whether it’s someone in Canada using to make a small loan to a micro-entrepreneur in Colombia, or an online retailer in Brooklyn using LinkedIn to source a UI designer in Latvia, our new digital platforms are inspiring us to create deeper connections with each other.

Travel helps, too, for appreciating the perspective of a stranger. Some of my most poignant realizations of the adage that “we’re all in this together” have come in real life conversation with locals and discovering anew that human nature is human nature no matter where you go. The cultural differences that make travel fun are, at another level, quickly overshadowed by what we have in common with each other: we all stare up at the same moon.

Within America, the extent to which I emphasize or de-emphasize my differences with “strangers”—nationalistic fervor or the opposite—has shaped my view of active policy debates such as immigration and trade. Consider that one consequence of a free trade agreement is that while my “fellow American” is out of a job at an air conditioning plant in Indiana—a real example that’s been in the news recently—a worker in Mexico has new opportunities to rise up the economic ladder. Is there a moral reason that air conditioning plant should stay in Indiana forever? Do I forfeit my status as an American if I don’t reflexively privilege the experiences and conditions of other Americans over that of individuals from other nations?

These are questions and challenges without easy answers, and I’m certainly not trying to convince anyone here of an argument one way or another. My point is that leading a global life for me doesn’t just mean getting on airplanes and traveling. It means wrestling with these sorts of questions—questions that cut at the heart of one’s personal ethics and in many cases bear on domestic political choices.

The Second Smartphone Revolution Connecting the World

Perhaps one of the best ways to create new webs of mutual interdependence and collaboration among the world’s population is to strengthen the economic links between local tribes.

It’s a profound time to do so. Over the next decade, around five billion people will connect to the Internet for the first time. Or to put it another way, in less than ten years, the already-sprawling Internet, currently at around 2.5 billion participants, is going to be triple the size it is now.

For any consumer in the world, this is fantastic news. The Internet is about to see a huge influx of human capital, a five billion node upgrade to our global network. More brains connecting to the global grid means more people developing technologies that will benefit everyone. As Alex Taborrok writes in his bookLaunching the Innovation Renaissance, thanks to the rise of China, India and other developing countries, we will now have literally billions more people who can work on a cure for cancer, or develop a self-driving car, or achieve a new breakthrough in physics. Ideas and innovation, no matter where they originate, eventually benefit all of humanity.

As an entrepreneur and investor, this is a huge opportunity: to help usher in the new wave of global innovation such as the Alibabas of the world. Massive entrepreneurial successes from outside Silicon Valley is turning Silicon Valley into Silicon Planet. This is a point my friend Chris Schroeder stresses in his 2013 book about Middle East entrepreneurship Start-up Rising. While countries like Egypt and Tunisia and Turkey are experiencing degrees of political turmoil, there is a less visible though highly inspiring entrepreneurial story in play in the region as well. Just look at Souq’s billion dollar valuation the other month. Elmira Bayrasli’s book, From Other Side of the World, maps Chris’s point of view to every corner of the world. She tells remarkable stories of entrepreneurs from far flung places that lend intrigue to her claim that “the next Steve Jobs and the next Apple, Google or Facebook is as likely to come from Nigeria, Pakistan or Mexico as Silicon Valley.”

Some of these growth market entrepreneurs will create businesses that simply make life more enjoyable and convenient, often porting solutions that already work in Europe or America to their home market (“The Instacart of Chile”). Some will create businesses that are new and fun—for example, they’ll help us attain levels of grooming less advanced civilizations were never able to manage. “Haircuts,” Eric Schmidt and Jared Cohen write in their book about the new digital age, “will finally be automated and machine-precise.” And some businesses will be truly profound: pharmaceuticals tailored to a person’s unique genetic structure, or microscopic robots that will patrol our circulatory systems for early signs of cancer.

In any case, much of the disruptive power of these businesses will arise not from the exotic technologies of tomorrow, but rather from a more quotidian device we already take for granted in the developed world: the old-fashioned smartphone. With billions new smartphone owners on the way from all corners of the globe, Fred Wilson recently predicted we’re on the cusp of a “Second Smartphone Revolution” that will unleash the next wave of successful entrepreneurs and venture capitalists.

The story of entrepreneurship and innovation is always a story about humans. More precisely, it’s a story about humans organized into networks. Networks turn epiphanies into memes, memes into movements, and movements into lasting cultural change. Networks equip entrepreneurs with a superman suit—it’s the entrepreneur’s network that is the source of her market intelligence and financial capital and all the other things that enable her to create great change in the world. A global network is the ultimate superman suit.

In my view, Silicon Valley is and will remain for a long time the preeminent network of innovation. I’ve spent the last 15 years company building and engaging in the ecosystem here in the Valley and I don’t intend to stop.

But what’s equally exciting is how many other entrepreneurial networks are forming around the world. From Chile to Turkey, Indonesia to Kenya. Technology is connecting these ecosystems together so everyone can learn from each other, thus accelerating the flywheel of global innovation. Tomorrow is going to look radically different than today – and not just because we’re all going to have fantastic haircuts. Networks, and the entrepreneurs embedded in them, will reshape virtually every aspect of human culture.

The Story of My Lifetime?

I’m not sure how many Americans of my generation, when they look back on their 18th birthdays a couple decades hence, will regret not traveling.

On the one hand, travel keeps getting cheaper and easier. The smartphone and internet revolution will continue apace. And the new entrepreneurial ecosystems and rising global middle class are producing exciting economic opportunities.

At the same time, the current political climate in the U.S. is strikingly nationalistic. Xenophobic rhetoric comes from politicians from both sides of the aisle who want America to turn inward and erect barriers. Talk of a “global tribe” seems out of step with the current American milieu.

To me, this makes the task of building a global life as important as ever. I want to embrace the fun and learning that comes from exploring new cultures. I want to develop a philosophical point of view about my obligation to “strangers” versus “my fellow Americans.” I want to support, indeed help create, the economic linkages and entrepreneurial communities that sustain a global, peaceful tribe.

What We Actually Say in “The Alliance”

Dan Lyons’ op/ed in the New York Times last week misrepresented The Alliance in a big way. His op/ed was promoting his new book, which bashes HubSpot, a company he worked at for a couple years. In his book, there is a brief but even more distorted description of the tour of duty framework. Reid, Chris, and I wrote a response to correct the record, and we published it on Chris’s LinkedIn page. Excerpt:

The Alliance is an attempt to find a better way for companies and employees to relate to each other. Specifically, we suggest companies and employees build trust incrementally and choreograph increasing levels of mutual commitment by defining “Tours of Duty.” A tour of duty, which might last anywhere from six months to six years depending on its mission, ought to spell out what an employee is trying to accomplish, how achieving it benefits the company, and how that achievement accelerates the employee’s career. As a tour of duty draws to a close, the manager and employee meet to discuss a follow-up tour. By giving employees a clear sense of career development, we’ve found that companies that adopt the Alliance Framework improve employee retention and lengthen job tenures. Loyalty builds over time, as both sides make and keep their mutual promises to invest in each other.

In his book, Dan writes, “Hoffman says employees should think of a job as a ‘tour of duty’ and not expect to stay for too long.” In fact, in The Alliance, we write at length about the perils of short termism. We tell the story of an employee who worked at one company (LinkedIn) for nine years and completed three distinct tours, and conclude: “This seeming contradiction— regularly changing roles in the context of a long-term relationship— is the essence of the tour of duty framework.”

At the heart of our framework is the importance of building high-trust relationships. In The Alliance, we write, “Our goal is to provide a framework for moving from a transactional to a relational approach…By building a mutually beneficial alliance rather than simply exchanging money for time, employer and employee can invest in the relationship and take the risks necessary to pursue bigger payoffs.” Here’s how Dan describes our framework: “In [Hoffman’s] view, a job is a transaction, one in which an employee provides a service, gets paid, and moves on.” It makes you wonder whether he actually read our book!

Impressions of Japan, Spring 2016


Shibu Onsen, Japan

Tokyo was the first Asian city I visited, back in 2006, and it left a strong, positive impression. Last week, 10 years later, I was able to refresh that impression by visiting Tokyo (and other parts of Japan) during the famous Cherry Blossom season. Such a fascinating place.

At times, Tokyo makes New York City feel slow. The underground subway stations manage to whisk eye-popping numbers of passengers through its stalls, people everywhere, every crevice, utter chaos. The electric flashing lights on certain streets of Tokyo makes Times Square feel dull. From a sheer numbers perspective, Tokyo is the largest metropolitan area in the world and you feel this scale frequently as you meander the city.

At other times in Tokyo, off the main roads, the city feels eerily quiet, even peaceful. There is no honking — ever. There are beautiful, green gardens, either outside people’s homes, or in large public spaces. Few people yap on their phones; no one plays music loud enough in their car to hear it from the sidewalk. And of course, the overall zen aesthetic lends a certain peacefulness to the urban design.

Chaotic yet calm. It’s the first oxymoronic trait of Tokyo that comes to mind. There are others.

The most famous paradoxical trait of Japan — and it’s a cliche of travel guidebooks — is old and new. There are temples and roads and traditions that are thousands of years old. There are working restaurants and shops in Kyoto (I went to them) that have been operated by the same families for 300+ years. There are ancient customs about family, food, success, and more that still govern modern behavior. Yet, at the same time, Japan has for many years also been proudly on the technological frontier, its people embracing technology in ways that have been captured in many a viral Facebook video or BuzzFeed post. For example, a Japanese couple’s wedding is officiated by a robot. Toilets that do crazy things while you’re sitting on them. Etc etc. The techno-charged culture that is Japan, but probably soon — the techno-culture everywhere.

As a tourist, there aren’t many better places to visit. Exploring these oxymorons — or are they paradoxes? — makes for a fascinating experience. Japanese culture is riveting. And the process of exploring the culture couldn’t be more pleasurable. Everything is clean. The quality of customer service is probably the best in the world. All the infrastructure just works. There’s basically no crime in Japan. There’s no trash on the streets either, despite an odd lack of trash cans in public places, which speaks to the power of social norms for people to pick up after themselves. Taxi drivers are unfailingly polite and are the opposite of corrupt (the cabbie from the airport into town actually reduced the fare from what the meter said because the route qualified for a lower flat rate!).

I found myself feeling quite healthy by the end of a week or two in Japan. The cities are walkable (I walked 15-20k steps per day) but more importantly, the fish-heavy food diet makes you feel light. My favorite meal was a nondescript sushi place in Shinjuku, where the sushi chef made 10 pieces with his freshest fish, carefully giving instructions on when to use soy sauce and when not to.

The Tokyo Swallows baseball season had just started. Going to a baseball game in Japan, where the fans are considerably more intense than American fans, is a real treat. It was great to bear witness to the amazing, coordinated cheers — the fans chant cheers that last a couple minutes, in perfect unison, a different song for each player. The utterly coordinated and seemingly rehearsed fan activity is one expression, perhaps, of the broader cultural norms of homogeneity and community.

On this visit, I got outside Tokyo and Kyoto and the Hakone mountains and into some of the smaller onsen hot springs districts. When you stay at a hot springs ryokan, a traditional Japanese inn, you take your shoes off in the lobby and walk barefoot or in sandals throughout the inn, wear a kimono even at meals, eat delicious local meals served in the hotel, and — when you’re not busy making sure you’re adhering properly to all the rules and customs! — you can bask in the relaxing glow of traditional Japanese culture. The hot springs water themselves are soothing and supposedly cure various skim ailments.

The final tourist note would be the cherry blossoms. They were in full bloom during the trip. Stunning! Perhaps even more stunning was the country’s collective obsession about the blossoms — or the sakura. Every store offered sakura-branded or sakura-colored trinkets. Starbucks rolled out Sakura colored treats in the way they do Pumpkin Spice themed items during Halloween in the States. Every Japanese person I talked to found a way to bring up the cherry blossoms. And at the cherry blossoms themselves, in the parks, it was the local Japanese taking the most photos. It reminded me of Chileans’ collective pride in the sur de chile, the tranquil towns of the south of that long, beautiful country. In Chile, it was only at a matter of time before a local would ask you, “¿Conoces el sur de chile?”

This is the best history of Japan overview I’ve seen. In fact, one of the best history videos in general I’ve ever watched:


A macro economy that’s been sluggish for 15-20 years, a deeply challenging demographic situation, and the persistence of certain norms that inhibit entrepreneurship, such as an aversion to risk and immigrants — these factors lead some to be pessimistic about Japan’s economic prospects. The Japanese people themselves are not the most optimistic bunch by disposition, it seems. That said, there are some obvious strengths in the educated workforce, legacy of innovation, sophisticated financial capital, and its geographic position relative to its dynamic SE Asian neighbors. Demographics is not destiny. And I met with some entrepreneurial investors in Tokyo who are working to reinvigorate Japan’s entrepreneurial energy, and it left me with hope. I’d love to see Japan thrive.

The book that Rakuten founder Mikitani-San and his father wrote is a good guide to the types of reforms Japan needs to implement to make it a more entrepreneur-friendly country.

Relatedly, here’s a piece from Politico yesterday on re-visiting the “Japanese Way.” By turning away from global culture and immigration, they’ve stagnated yes, but they’ve also not had to deal with a lot of the problems currently afflicting America and Europe. I’m not particularly bullish, long-term, on the insular approach. And I’m hopeful globalization can prevail. But the Japanese model is an interesting, decidedly different approach, and one that’s certainly worth understanding for all its pros and cons.

Book Review: Purity by Franzen

purityJonathan Franzen’s latest novel, Purity, is a page turner that locked me into a rich, multi-layered plot and had me staying up at night later than I should have so that I could keep turning the pages. 

With so many other forms of entertainment available today, purely plot-driven genre novels are a hard sell to me. I want psychological intimacy. I want complex characters. I want to get inside the head of someone balancing competing ambitions. I want to learn about someone whose love life is messed up, or family a wreck, or career falling apart, or someone who’s terribly lonely. It’s in the exploration of psychological hardship that a skillful novelist can write candidly about things a non-fiction writer wouldn’t touch. 

Franzen delivers the goods in this respect. There are no heroic characters. Fucked up family relationships. Problematic love lives. Searing guilt. Friends who betray the friendship; friends who become fuck buddies; friends who literally help bury bodies. It’s telling that when Pip, a central character, hears the word ‘sister’ “her heart constricted with hostility. Having no siblings of her own, she couldn’t help resenting the demands and potential supportiveness of other people’s; their nuclear-family normalcy, their inherited wealth of closeness.” That tells all you all you need to know about the nature of family relationships in this novel. Or when Leila reflects on her long-term relationship with Tom, the narrator says: “Her life with Tom was strange and ill-defined and permanently temporary but therefore all the more a life of true love, because it was freely chosen every day, every hour.” Strange, ill-defined, permanently temporary: Yup.

The psychological drama surrounding these relationships unfolds in the background. The focus in Purity is on the action, which takes place through several different characters as much in their historical backstories as in their present-day storyline. The settings include the Santa Cruz mountains in California; rural Bolivia; and Cold War era Germany. The present-day story is utterly contemporary: leaked documents, Wiki-leaks style, drive a couple a non-profit organizations that engage in activist journalism. Edward Snowden and Julian Assange are top-of-mind for the characters in this novel.

Franzen is restrained stylistically, relative to his ability. The “idea bombs” that I noted in my review of his previous novel Freedom — discursive remarks either said by the narrator or by some character on some general topic of consequence — are embedded in dialogue rather than formal set pieces. That said, there are plenty of sentences you’ll re-read. For example:

[Pip struggling to undress and hook up with a guy] Self-pity seeped into her, a conviction that for no one but her was sex so logistically ungainly, a tasty fish with so many small bones.


Reporting was imitation life, imitation expertise, imitation worldliness, imitation intimacy; mastering a subject only to forget it, befriending people only to drop them. And yet, like so many imitative pleasures, it was highly addictive.


“I’ve spent most of my life hating her,” he said. “I told you some of the reasons I hate her. But now I get this email and I remember that they weren’t the real reasons, or not the whole reason. They’re half the reason. The other half is that I can never stop loving her, in spite of all those other reasons. I forget about this, for years at a time. But then I get this email…”


Andreas was gripped by an unfamiliar physical sensation. He was such a laugher, such an ironist, such an artist of unseriousness, that he didn’t even recognize what was happening to him: he, too, was starting to cry. But he did recognize why. He was crying for himself—for what had happened to him as a child.


Leila felt keenly, after the call, that she liked the girl too much. “I miss you” was already more than she had a right to elicit from a subordinate and still not as much as she wanted to hear. She felt dissatisfied and exposed and somewhat nuts. The tenderness she felt with children had always had a physical component, situated close in her body to the part that wanted intimacy and sex. But the reason she felt such tenderness was that, no matter how she warmed to a child in her arms, she knew she would never betray and exploit its innocence. This was why nothing could replace having kids—this structural insatiability, both painful and delicious, of parental love.

My full highlights pasted below. See my review of Freedom  here. My favorite lines from his book How to Be Alone. Here’s how Franzen dealt with envy when he read a galley of Infinite Jest.
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You Need to Have Secrets, and Have Them Known

“There’s the imperative to keep secrets, and the imperative to have them known. How do you know that you’re a person, distinct from other people? By keeping certain things to yourself. You guard them inside you, because, if you don’t, there’s no distinction between inside and outside. Secrets are the way you know you even have an inside. A radical exhibitionist is a person who has forfeited his identity. But identity in a vacuum is also meaningless. Sooner or later, the inside of you needs a witness.”

Jonathan Franzen in Purity