(really) entrepreneureal

Emergency Rooms have a really bad rap.  Drab, barren of any comfy furniture whatsoever, filled with sick people and, worst of all, usually painted an awful green color.  How fitting.  So when I hit the ER this past week for some stitches to the chin, I wasn’t exactly expecting to have a great time – but just how bad a time, even I would never have guessed.  And interestingly, it had nothing to do with the people – the admin people, nurses and doctor were all more than amiable – but more with the seeming total disregard for basic tenets of design that had gone into the place.  Here, in chronological order, are the design problems I encountered over the course of the evening:

7:35pm

I enter through the front of the hospital from the regular parking lot.  No need for real ER parking, since I’m not about to keel over.  Unfortunately, this means I have to “sign in”.  A quick gesture to my chin grants me automatic access, and I’m off into the bowels of the hospital.

7:37pm

I finally find the ER, which is so unremarkable that I almost miss it.  No sign in desk here, just a huge security desk that is so high I can’t tell if someone’s behind it.  Reminds me of a kids play fort.  Overall, it does nothing to make me feel safe, since I wonder what the security is meant to protect me against.

7:38pm

After looking around the micro waiting room, I eventually notice an unmarked door Read the rest of this entry »

Startup funding, in many respects, buys you freedom.  The freedom to work away unfettered by daily concerns like paying the bills and keeping the lights on.  The freedom to hire the very best and keep them.  The freedom to focus 100% of your attention and energy on one thing and one thing only: making your business work.

That said, funding also imposes restraints.  Accountability to investors means no more slow going, opportunistic growth.  There might be a little less fun to be had, too, since your major decision filter is now “will this help the business (make money)?” And if you want to work with people who are as passionate as you are, a good salary has a way of making it difficult to tell the committed apart from the ladder climbers.

So what to do – would you take the money?

There you have it: with little fanfare and barely a second to think twice, regret, or do anything differently, the first 25 years of my life have gone by (in a flash).

Poof. Zip. Bang. Done.

So now that the first quarter century is over, what lessons have I learned – or not – that I can apply to the next quarter?  Here’s a smattering that come to mind:

Awareness is key.

I sometimes feel like I spent the first 18 or so years of my life totally unaware of everything around me, of life’s infinite possibilities. Sure, I was consistently told to reach high (”You’ll be amazing!”, “You’ll do great things!”, “Dream big and you can do it!”), but it’s only very recently that I feel I have come to appreciate these truisms. Which leads me to the next lesson:

It’s never too late.

Ok, so I was late to the party.  Like the guy who gets pubes last, or the 40-year old virgin, I feel like I kinda missed the boat on some of this stuff.  Not all of it, to be fair (living in 10+ countries made sure that I got a leg up in many respects), but until recently I consistently felt like everyone around me had their shit together more than I.  These days, it’s not as if I’ve pulled ahead or anything, but more that I see that most of us are, at any one time, just as lost – or ahead – as the rest.  In many ways this is great because it means I get to grow with those around me, but in many ways it really is just the blind leading the blind.  Which brings me to this:

Lead where you can (because we’re all leaders, really).

Whether you’re flipping burgers at BK or solving the world’s problems at the IMF, leading by example should be your default.  There’s no time to sit back and agonize over every little detail – planning just enough to not be a total screw up is fine, but do keep in mind that life is short (so don’t waste it).  Of course, this means different things for different people (slow for one is fast for another), so remember this, too:

Just be nice.

To everyone.  Most of the time.  Because frankly, while life is too short to dally, it’s also too short to feel – or foment – sourness in any form.  I think we all fight this lesson every day: it’s always easy to be dismissive, curt, or cynical, so do the opposite!  I’m lucky because it’s part of who I am (I like to please), but I urge us all to spread a smile and make someone’s day, make another happy, where possible.

Which leads to the final thought:

Happiness is now.

Maybe yesterday. Definitely today. But certainly not tomorrow. I constantly fight this one: I want to iron out this kink or that; buy one thing or another; make more time, more friends, more money; find a calling, build a business; surf more, have more free time, meet more people, fall in love…

I look forward to all these things, and worry about them when I’m doing them, when that’s the last thing I should be doing.  They are definitely part of the key to my happiness, but they aren’t going to happen tomorrow.  Or the next day.  Or next year.  The key to true happiness is recognizing that these things are all possible now.  That waiting for tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, will do nothing more than doom you to a life of “What if?” and “If only…”

Take chances, risk just enough to know you’re alive, stay true to yourself (recognizing that you change on a daily basis), and, as my mum always says, “everything will come out in the wash.”

I recently sent a YouTube video to a friend of mine living in Beijing.  I immediately got an email back with the following response:

It is so easy to take for granted just how connected we are, especially in the US.  Barriers to information effectively don’t exist, and if they do they’re often a question of technological limitations, not political ones.

What happens to a country, its individuals, when the connective tissue we integrate so easily into our daily lives simply isn’t there?

For those who are interested, the video is from a recent AARP competition, and is pretty stunning:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=42E2fAWM6rA

I’m definitely conflicted when it comes to Nassim Nicolas Taleb.  Equal parts genius, futurist and critic, his ideas are inflammatory, his rhetoric intriguing, and his humor catching.

So why do I dislike him so very very much?

I think it’s because he represents what we all love to hate: an armchair critic who just so happens to have made it big.  Sure, he has the qualifications (an MBA and PhD, for starters), and the requisite NY Times bestseller (the Black Swan), but his biggest asset of all, and I think the reason I dislike him so, is the humongous hat he needs to go along with his equally magnificent pate (and it is a pate).  Add to this his penchant for making criticisms that are only really useful in hindsight, not to mention his almost disarming idealism when it comes to how we should fix our economy, and you have, if nothing else, a tidbit for conversation over drinks with strangers in a hotel bar.

This is all disarming, that is, until you realize that the only thing worse than a rogue trader or hedge fund manager with nary a care in the world (until his bonus doesn’t come through as the economy collapses) is an ex-trader who loves to point fingers and say “I told you so”.  Shame.

For those interested in collaboration as core principle of doing business, I’m happy to announce that The Hub is coming to San Francisco.

Known for their unique, open workspaces that foster collaboration, The Hub has slowly been making the business case for co-working.  The Hub’s research suggests that co-working in their spaces results in higher dealflow for tenants, which, in a penny-pinching economy, might wmake a whole lot of sense.

Imagine attending a networking event every day, just by showing up to work.  Awesome.

I couldn’t write this without mentioning that I work in Architecture For Humanity’s coworking Co-Lab space, and had the privilege of chatting with Alex at Altrupreneur a bit about his grassroots movement in Knoxville.  Definitely a movement to be watched.

We’re all pretty good at valuing things, and we do it every day without even thinking.  There are the obvious suspects, like products and services.  Latte? $4 please.  Bus ticket? That’ll be $1.50. Getting your taxes done the weekend before the 15th? $500 and your firstborn child, thank you.

But there are a whole range of things that are hard to value and that we don’t even notice on a day to day basis. The heartfelt thanks from the valet when you gave him a good tip?  The barista who took the time to make latte art? (even though they don’t really have to) That feeling you get when you miss your bus? (because let’s face it, not everything has a positive value)  Or how about what you owe your best friend for setting you up with your (now) spouse?  How much is that worth?

The web is full of great examples, too.  This includes all the social networks (Facebook, Digg, Linked In, Hi5, MySpace, Ning), as well as the free (or semi free) services that make our lives easier (Plaxo, Mint, Facebook Connect, RSS).  And let’s not forget the increasingly ubiquitous Twitter.  What the heck are 140 characters worth?  If it’s used for chronicling sometimes lunch habits, probably not very much – but what if someone’s Twittering helped land them a job.  What would it be worth then? (and the question we all know that Twitter is wondering, “How can we make money off this worth?”)

As the focus shifts from the things we think we know how to value to those we don’t or haven’t even considered, it’s getting more and more important to figure out just what the space between, the connective tissue, is worth.  Watch this space.

This idea of connective tissue has started popping up of late. For example, while we tend to focus on the things that are easy to see and recognize (successes, failures, Black Swans, Purple Cows), sometimes it’s the space between, the things we don’t see, that are most important.

The current financial crisis shows this particularly well: look at what happens when nobody pays attention to the connective tissue binding the economy.  Trust without accountability.  Lots of money changing hands without transparency.  The end result is a system built on a web of connective tissue that destroys rather than positively reinforces.

The same goes for everything around us.  Failing personal relationship?  Probably aren’t paying enough attention to the connective tissue (i.e. love, trust, honesty, individuality).  Struggling at work?  Be mindful of negative work relationships, habits, and the fact that the work you’re in might not actually be suited for the connective tissue that makes you happy.  A friend of mine left the hedge fund world because she couldn’t stand the duplicity, stress and backstabbing – sounds like the connective tissue wasn’t the kind she needed.

All this can also be much simpler than financial systems, personal relationships, and work environment: what do you do with your “connecting” time?  Do you sit on the bus listening to music on an iPod every day, or do you sometimes take the time to read something, strike up a conversation with someone new, or think positively about the future?

What does your connective tissue look like?

Seth has totally hit the nail on the head (again).  He notes how networking events often end up being filled with useless interactions (like lectures, which are essentially one-way conversations), when everyone knows that the networking, the one-on-one brainstorms over coffee, a pee break, or a stale muffin, are what everyone really values.  These interactions he calls “hallways”, because this is generally where the conversations happen.  Ironically, with all the money spent on events, the banquets, tables, AV team and whatever, it ends up being the hallways that provide the connective tissue of the event. Read the rest of this entry »

I’ve noticed a trend of late in web design: a shift toward edgier, more unconvential navigation, with a distinct injection of humor, sarcasm, and playfulness.

Let’s take a look – first up is Neutron, a San Francisco branding firm:

OK, this is a branding firm (so we can expect it to be edgier), but in many ways Neutron is flouting the basic tenets of “good” web design: clear language that users expect (and understand), a standard columned layout – all of which make it clear what a user is supposed to do next (i.e. click here, scroll over this or whatever). It gets clearer when you mouse over the text, which is almost impossible not to do (and this is good):

Click on the link, and things start to look more normal.  Standard blocks of text, a more sectioned layout…

But look a little closer, and the quirkier side of the company starts to show through:

Note the non-standard language: “What is” instead of “About us”, “Where is” instead of “Contact us” (which is where we usually find the requisite google map), and best of all… Read the rest of this entry »

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