Cure for Grumpiness

Yesterday I spent a few hours at the community gardens, installing chicken wire along a stretch of fence, then weeding the garlic plot we planted last November.

I was joined by two plot-holders and their kids, who were exactly the right amount of helpful and complaining about doing garden work, especially on a Saturday. Great kids.

And that was enough to move me from grouchy to grateful. I'm going to schedule daily garden trips for the next few weeks--lots to do, and it turns out it's the cure for the common grump.

Wisdom of the Crowd

Yesterday's post evolved into an exploration of what it means to help people vs serving as a gatekeeper. I'm concluding I'm not a gatekeeper, but just a node on a network, mostly of helpers, and that it's only helpful to everyone involved if we use our judgment with advice, introductions, and encouragement.

The wisdom in the comments was particularly helpful.

From JLM: "I will help any son of a bitch who can find me, contact me and form an articulate sentence --- why the Hell not?"


From Jim about filters: "Doesn't always work."

Arnold: "at the core through all this human layers and baggage true friendships does indeed happen"

And Mike: "one of the mysterious forces here that you're leaving out of major discussion are the social repercussions that occur"

I'm still thinking about this. The impression I gave in the original post is that I don't want to help--that's not at all the case. I'm happy to help and invite anyone to ask for it. But I won't randomly make introductions without some forethought--that doesn't help anyone. 

Most startups should be focused on customers. Focus on getting traction, solidifying and proving the model, and doing everything possible to avoid needing to raise money for anything other than scaling faster. Networking is a good habit to get into, but don't do it aspirationally. 

Maybe the attitude should be to always pass someone along, but advise against it if they aren't ready.

I don't know... I probably need to degrumpify

Networks, and Gatekeepers

I don't like gatekeepers. I don't like private clubs.

And I don't like being a gatekeeper. I don't belong to clubs.

Through luck, hard work, contributions to networks and communities, and the kindness and openness some people along the way, I've developed a network that includes some really special people, some of whom have significant position and power in their respective fields.

Most of them are very open people, which is the only reason I'm part of their networks.

They're also very busy, and I respect their time. Thousands of people try to reach them, try to connect with them, want something from them.

When you're building a startup, you need things. You think certain people can get it for you. In some cases you're right. But (and I hate this metaphor...is there another?) when you're a hammer, everything looks like a nail. And startup need is a hammer that you apply to everything and everyone you meet.

You need stuff. You ask everyone. You're mostly a taker, for survival's sake.

I've done that, been there, and will be there again, I bet, though I try to be a giver more often. It's very likely that I haven't launched anything in the past 4 years because I know I need stuff and I don't want to ask until my last company is officially deemed a success, though it's been a success.

So I get it.

Being connected to someone who values their time and expects their networks to respect that makes it very tough not to be a gatekeeper. I'm asked to connect people, and if it makes sense, I do that.

I gatekeep. I curate.

I hate the filtering part of it, but the truth is, some things need to be filtered. If I don't do that, then I'm not a responsible steward of the connection's time, and he or she will start to filter me, such that future potential connections that make sense will not benefit from that connection.

I'm not great at it either. Over the past year I've made introductions for five startups--that's it. I'm fairly certain that none of them turned out to be productive connections for various reasons.

There are two I'd like to help out right now, because there's definitely a there there, but neither of them have really nailed it yet--in my view. It's too early.

I'm opening the gate for one of them because there's just enough basis, but it's a stretch because there's no business model. So I'm curating, but more liberally than I should. Ever the optimist, I think something beneficial might come of it, though it's almost guaranteed that it won't result in a long-term relationship. So I waver.

This is a fortunate person's problem; I know that and I'm not complaining, I'm just struggling with the idea of the openness of networks vs curation. Brad Feld writes about gatekeepers in Startup Economies, and I don't want to be one of those.

But he implies there's filtering and curation in the network, too. He's just not explicit about it. I think he meant gatekeepers to exclusive clubs. Clubs are not networks--you can't just approach anyone in the club. You have to go through the gatekeeper, and the club reinforces that in their rules.

But networks--you can go around any of the nodes in the network and still get through. The main ethic?

Merit.

Here's how I see the value of networks and the roles of the people within them, using a mix of Metcalfe's law and my own non-mathematical equations: networks increase in value exponentially with the addition of each person, but only to the extent that each person judiciously yet optimistically filters new additions to the network.

In other words, if everyone adds anyone to their networks without discretion, the value of the networks decreases with every new person who might waste the time and resources of others in the network.

This sucks--it sounds like I'm advocating for private clubs. You can only join if you have $100,000. You can only join if you're a blue blood. We only invest in Wharton grads. Executives only. Entrepreneurs only.

We do that with Startup Lancaster. Founders only.

And it works. If we add employees and vendors, it dilutes the conversation. It distracts from the focus.

So how can you be inclusive while being exclusive at the same time?

Merit.

Merit is in the eye of the curator. If you seem like you're ready--you have your story together, business model, early customers, data you can extrapolate into 12 months of vision, stuff that really works, you're probably ready. If I don't get what you're doing, or don't like what you're doing, I'm not likely to pass you on into my networks.

And you know what?

Screw that. To hell with me. Go around me. Find another way in. Keep at it. Prove me wrong--I'd be thrilled (and chagrined).

Don't let gatekeepers stand in your way.

Second Anniversary of Startup Lancaster

Two years ago I started Startup Lancaster with the help of Dave Weaver, Ross Kramer, and Kirk Barrett; they are local tech startup founders with varying degrees of success. The next meeting is next Monday--join us at http://www.meetup.com/startuplancaster/

We deliberately limited the attendees to founders of tech product startups, so service providers were not allowed into the group, nor were vendors or employees.

That limited the range of topics and challenges to what founders face, while excluding other smart, motivated people, but there are other forums for that like Central Penn New Tech Meetup.

That focus has served the group well. We'll likely start another group that is more open and encourages a broader range of subjects.

For now, founders talk to other founders, mentor each other, learn from each other, and occasionally join each other in new ventures.

The first meeting had something like 17 people. Subsequent meetings ranged from as low as 5 founders to as many as 25. The smaller meetings were less structured but people seem to prefer them. The larger meetings gave people a chance to get to know new members and give us a sense of a larger community.

Two years in, I can't say it has been a smashing success. It seems that some people have benefitted from it, but I have to admit I'm disappointed in some of the results of startups that have gone on to raise a bit of capital, teams that have split, stops and starts, and more failure than success.

But then that's the point--these things are going to happen anyway.

Teams break up, friends stop talking to each other for stupid reasons, leaders make mistakes, best efforts fail, some teams pivot, and pivot, and pivot like whirling dervishes addicted to self discovery, capital is wasted, yet some teams do spectacularly well.

And then we share the messiness of it all, hopeful that we'll help each other, that our advice will be heeded, wounds healed, new ideas developed, new teams emerging from the ashes of the last battles.

It's a real startup community. Game on.

Hitting Send

I just replied to someone in a thread, where earlier in the thread I had forwarded  part of the conversation to someone else, and so that forward was included in the new reply.

Ugh. That sinking feeling.

So I read back through the entire thread, and there wasn't anything in there that would be embarrassing, confusing, or upsetting, but that sinking feeling is still there.

Cringe-worthy morning already :)

Disqus Digests

This morning my phone dinged with a fresh notification--a new email! What oh what could it be? 

I rush over to check while thinking "I need to unsubscribe to a lot of stuff so I get fewer non-urgent dinging notifications."

Well shoot, that's disappointing. It's Disqus Digests, one of the biggest wastes of dopamine anticipation ever. 

It simply sucks. 

Disqus itself is great as a commenting system. I've been there since the beginning and have mostly enjoyed its evolution. 

And then they did this interruptive, irrelevant email.

Well why does it suck, you say. 

Every one of these "Digests" sends a few comments from a blog conversation in which I've already participated. That means it's very, very likely that I've seen the comments before. 

So I open the mail, see something I've already read, and curse Daniel and Company for enticing me into wasting my time, and cursing myself for falling for it. 

So I unsubscribed. 

Here's the other side of the criticism--the optimism of dissent: it would be better (and not that hard for that talented crew) to send thematically relevant comments from other sites. I already know AVC.com and was just there a few minutes ago. Don't send me comments from there. I've likely seen most of them, and if I haven't it's because I'm not really interested in that conversation anymore. Been there. What's next? 

If instead you sent me links to other conversations that you know I'd be interested in because I send you a boatload of signals just by commenting (let's see... my comment, the comment I responded to, responses or lack thereof to my comments, likes I get, likes I give, other Disqus sites I visit, Disqus sites I where I comment, etc, etc) and you have tons of signals of relevant comments, people, blog posts from across the Disqusophere, well, let's just say you can approximate something that is far superior than a lame summation of a few comments that happened at the shindig I've already dug. 

I was hoping to post something more startup-y for my first post in a month, but maybe here's the lesson for startups: just because you can do something doesn't mean you should.

Anyone other lessons here?

Working Yourself to Death

When you're not thinking clearly, when you're making bad decisions because of exhaustion which you can no longer perceive because you don't know what it's like to feel good anymore, it's because you've rationalized that working yourself to death helps to build the business.

It doesn't.