Monthly Archives: May 2017

Leap When You’re Almost Ready

“Jump out of the plane on my count, at 5. Ready?” the sky diver instructor says to you, a nervous first-time customer, crouched in a tiny Cessna plane flying 10,000 feet above the air. You are pulsing with adrenaline. Wide eye fear.

“Ok,” you say, unconvincingly. “Ready.”

The instructor kicks open the door to the plane. Air rushes through the open door and the aircraft rattles a bit in the sky. Fear turns to panic, as every fiber of your body — everything evolution has taught you — says to not jump out of an open aircraft.

“1, 2, 3…”

Then, on the count of 4, the instructor jumps the gun. You think you have one more precious second to change your mind. But he’s already pushed you out the airplane. And away you go.  This way, there’s no time for you to change your mind at the last minute.

Although I’ve never sky dived, I’m told this is not an uncommon technique to use with first-timers who sometimes experience last minute panic cop-outs.

And it reminded me of a great insight from an acquaintance, delivered on summer day a couple years ago in Berlin.

I asked him if he felt ready to have kids when his wife gave birth. He replied, “I wasn’t ready. But we were almost ready to have kids. Almost ready. You’ll never feel fully ready.”

This is a truth in so many things, isn’t it?

Don’t start a company when you feel ready to, because you’ll never feel ready. Start a company when you feel almost ready.

Don’t marry your boyfriend or girlfriend when you feel ready, because you’ll never quite be sure. Marry him when you feel almost ready — when you’re almost sure he’s the one.

Don’t take the job that you feel fully prepared for. Stretch yourself. Push yourself. Take the job you feel almost ready for.

“Almost ready” is similar to The 80% Rule persuasion hack. Ronald Reagan argued that you don’t need someone to agree with you 100% for them to be “with you” — you just need them to be with you on 80% of the issues. That’s usually enough for them to pledge their support.

The 80% Rule applied to yourself would mean you don’t need to be 100% sure of a decision for it to be the right decision. You need to be 80% sure — or, almost ready.

Otherwise, if you’re lucky, a coach or mentor will be around to interrupt your deliberating and doubt and procrastination — and push you out the airplane before you realize what’s happening!

“The Stale Tenement Air of Married Life”

Great opening paragraphs in this review of Joshua Ferris’s story collection:

It is late on a spring afternoon in Brooklyn. Sarah sits on her balcony, sipping a glass of wine, gazing down at the neighbors laughing on their brownstone stoops. A mystical sort of breeze arrives, one of “maybe a dozen in a lifetime,” tickling the undersides of leaves and Sarah, too, who now finds herself restless with longing for something new, for anything but the same old thing. Her husband comes home. “What should we do tonight?” she asks. “I don’t care,” Jay says. “What do you want to do?”

As most battered and seaworthy veterans of relationships eventually know, this is not the best response to a mate who feels herself to be in a sudden existential quandary, who, anointed by a breeze, is looking for something more than just another late-night superhero movie and familiar takeout sandwich. Bad though a spouse may be who dictates the marital laws, equally awful is the passive partner who simply goes along for every ride.

In that vexed, trembling fashion begins “The Breeze,” one of several standout stories in Joshua Ferris’s new collection, “The Dinner Party,” a magnificent black carnival of discord and delusion. Richard Yates once published a collection called “Eleven Kinds of Loneliness.” With 11 stories of its own, “The Dinner Party” might comparably have been titled “Eleven Kinds of Crazy.” Coupledom, in particular, is shown to be a nearly hallucinatory proposition, involving those alternative realities commonly known as husband and wife, who suffer veiled and separate lives side by side, breathing in squalid proximity “the stale tenement air of married life,” as Ferris puts it.

Book Review: The Intel Trinity

Steve Jobs, in a 1994 interview, said that once you discover that everything around you that we call “life” — rules, expectations, institutions, buildings, companies, theories, and so on — were made by people no smarter than you, everything changes. Because when you realize that most of what seems permanent and “the way things have always been” was, at one point, the proactive creation of a fallible human being, then you learn that if you poke at life you can actually change it. From then on, you take a much broader view of life’s possibilities.

It’s a powerful point that I agree with, except for the notion that the institutions and companies and norms and countries around us were built by people “no smarter than you.” In fact, the Founding Fathers of America were probably smarter than you or me. Same with Steve Jobs. Not all of us is smart enough or persistent enough to leave an enduring impact. But it’s true most of us are smarter than we know.

In any case, if you apply Jobs’ comment to Silicon Valley, it resonates. It’s uncommon to step back and ponder who created the norms and culture of modern tech entrepreneurship that we take for granted today. I locate the answer in (at least) two companies. HP, where Dave and Bill pioneered the idea of flexible work hours, employees owning equity in companies, casual attire, non-hierarchal decision making, and so much of the “west coast” aesthetic that is central to modern Silicon Valley identity. When HP introduced these policies, they were considered bold and groundbreaking. And then Intel, which, by growing from an idea to the world’s most important company, set a standard for execution that became the high water mark for other startups that aspired to global scale.

Intel also was one of the first companies to raise modern venture capital. How often do we stop and think about the original investors who decided to invest real money in a high risk, low liquidity tech company, and the entrepreneur who thought to sell equity in his company in exchange for enough risk capital to shoot for the stars?

I recently read Mike Malone’s The Intel Trinity, a wonderful guide to the history of Intel and the famous troika of Bob Noyce, Gordon Moore, and Andy Grove. These guys created Silicon Valley. The Intel Trinity explains the story of Intel well, and the tremendously intense and sometimes volatile relationship between them. Those of us too young to have lived through the rise of Intel are an especially relevant audience for this book, as is anyone who does not understand the historical meaning or importance of Moore’s Law. While there are a couple chapters in the book about Andy Grove’s personal history, for more color on that — his unbelievable personal life story as an immigrant from Hungary — I’d recommend Grove’s memoir Swimming Across.