How To Reject A Meeting Request

How to reject a meeting request

A couple weeks ago, I had multiple meetings where, going into the meeting, I was absolutely sure I wouldn’t be able to help the entrepreneurs in the ways they’d hoped, but they were persistent, so I agreed to the meetings.

Unfortunately, I was right.

After lots of wasted hours — specifically the wasted hours of precious entrepreneur time for the people meeting with me — I received yet another request from someone I knew I wouldn’t be able to help. In frustration, I posted the following Tweet:

Usually when I ask the Twitter masses a question, all I get is silence, but this particular question spurred an interesting mix of comments. I’ve shared some responses below and my thoughts on them. At the end, I’ll share how I responded to the request that spurred my tweet.

James Avery tries to improve efficiency…

Offering a call seems like a good in-between response. It’s less of a time commitment, while not an outright rejection. Still, I wonder about the value. Even if the call only takes 30 minutes, aren’t I knowingly wasting 30 minutes of that entrepreneur’s time?

Either way, I’m definitely going to use Jame’s suggestion about asking more people to come to my office. That’s a smart optimization.

Bryan Guido Hassin likes paying the karma gods…

I agree that sometimes you might not realize the ways in which a meeting can be valuable. At the same time, after a career of meetings, I feel like it’s possible to make an educated and usually-accurate guess. Still, it’s hard to argue with the importance of pleasing the karma gods. Definitely don’t want to piss them off.

Joe Procopio focused on work meetings…

Realizing he was talking about working meetings but the question had been about informal “coffee” meetings, Joe added:

At first I wasn’t sure I agreed with Joe that working meetings and informal “let’s connect” meetings have much overlap. However, after thinking about it a bit, he has an interesting port. Specifically, plenty of the optimizations that get applied to working/office meetings could be applied to informal meetings. In fact, here’s a relevant suggestion from one of my Duke colleagues…

Steve McClelland suggested adding a helpful barrier…

What if I the “assignment” Steve suggests is to request an agenda ahead of time? Not only would this create a barrier to push away less serious meeting requests, it would also help organize meetings, as per Joe’s suggestion, which is something I do for working meetings.

If nothing else, requesting an agenda would probably encourage the people scheduling a meeting to think through what they want to say and what they want to ask for in ways most of them aren’t currently doing.

Dana Publicover encouraged me to give a referral…

On one hand, I agree in the value of referrals and try to give them whenever possible. On the other hand, I worry about referring people I don’t know well because, like it or not, a bad referral can reflect poorly on me. That might seem a bit selfish, but most of us know people who keep sending us bad referrals, and it impacts the way all of their referrals get treated.

Malcolm Gill brought the optimism…

And he’s right. You never know what can happen. That’s certainly part of the anxiety I have when deciding whether or not to turn down a meeting.

Also worth noting… you never know what can happen when you play the lottery, but I still don’t buy tickets.

And Will Hardison had perhaps the most actionable advice…

In my world, we call that #MarketerHumor… =)

So here’s what I did…

As you read, everyone has their own way of handling meeting requests with questionable value. Some people take the meetings while trying to optimize for efficiency, some attempt to add better vetting up front, and other people believe meetings are a core part of the entrepreneurial ecosystem and are never truly a waste of time.

As for me, I still don’t know the best strategy for rejecting a meeting request. I guess I’ll have to experiment and report back.

For my first experiment, I replied to the entrepreneur who triggered my tweet by explaining why I believed I wouldn’t be a helpful person for him to meet and that I valued his time too much to waste it. To his credit, he wrote a kind response thanking me for my honesty, so I guess that’s one data point in support of an honest, candid rejection email.

How about you? How do you turn down meeting requests? Reply in the comments below or tweet @AaronDinin.

 

Rejection Is A Beginning, Not An End

In 2010, my then-co-founder and I flew to Seattle to participate in “Techstars for a Day.” For those who don’t know, Techstars is a prominent and selective startup accelerator. During “Techstars for a Day,” they host companies they’re considering admitting. It’s an unofficial finalist interview of sorts.

As we flew across the country, we were confident we’d be accepted. After all, we were finalists and we were awesome. How could Techstars not accept us?

To make a long story short, we were wrong; we weren’t awesome, and Techstars did reject us.

My co-founder and I were both pissed because… well… rejection sucks. However, while it felt like a crummy ending to an exciting opportunity at the time, in retrospect, it wasn’t the end of anything. It wasn’t even the end of my relationship with Techstars.

Nine years later, I was invited to be a mentor for companies in the Techstars Raleigh/Durham accelerator. Meeting the new class of Techstars portfolio companies — which I did last week — gave me an opportunity to see the ways in which my own knowledge of entrepreneurship has evolved. For example, here are four ways in which the companies I mentored know more than I did when I was applying to Techstars, and another four things they still need to learn:

4 Things the current Techstars entrepreneurs were better at than me:

  • Introduced themselves with concise explanations: Every company I met introduced themselves by telling me what they did in a few quick sentences that made their basic premise easy to understand. I mention this not just because they’d honed their elevator pitches in ways I wish I had when I was in their position, but also because it took me years to learn the value of explaining things simply, clearly, and directly.
  • Prioritized traction: After explaining what they did, most of the entrepreneurs I met shared stats about how many customers they already had and how many enterprise deals they were busy negotiating. Yes, I was skeptical of their numbers because early companies often misrepresent traction, but at least they knew to talk about it. I didn’t know that when I was at their stage. I was still in a naive “if you build it, they will come” mindset.
  • Pre-meeting research: Most of the companies made a point of referencing something they’d read about me online, which meant they’d taken time to do research before their meetings. In my early days of building companies, I rarely did that, and I’m sure it cost me opportunities.
  • Always follow-up: I’m writing this post within a week of my mentoring sessions and I’ve already heard from most of the companies. They’ve thanked me for my help and asked if they can add me to their regular “progress report” emails. In contrast, I’m still terrible at following up and updating people… just ask my previous investors!

4 Things the current Techstars entrepreneurs still need to learn:

  • Customer acquisition is your product: All the entrepreneurs I met wanted to spend the entire time explaining their products. I had to interrupt them to ask questions about their customer acquisition strategies, and none had good answers. But they had plenty to say about their “amazing” user interfaces and “revolutionary” features. Uggg.
  • The customer wasn’t the user: My personal startup motto is: if the person paying for your product isn’t your end user, it’s a bad business model. And yet, more than half the companies I met were selling to people who weren’t their end users. For example, they’d be pitching a medical device that insurance companies would pay for, doctors would prescribe, and patients would use. While I realize these kinds of models exists (i.e. prescription drugs), they’re particularly challenging and require tons of startup capital..
  • Making it about them instead of their customers: Too many of the entrepreneurs I met wanted to tell me their personal stories. They shared why they were building their companies, how they’d gotten started, and what motivated them to keep working. In contrast, none of them mentioned their customers or their customers’ needs without my asking. That’s selfish. We don’t build startups for ourselves. We build startups for other people.
  • Having too many answers: The entrepreneurs I met answered every question I asked; none of them were willing to say “I don’t know.” They all either believed they knew everything or believed they had to appear as though they knew everything. In either case, they were wrong. As a Techstars applicant, I thought I had to know everything, and I was wrong. As a Techstars mentor, I realize I can’t know everything. A willingness to say “I don’t know” is critical for entrepreneurs because it helps us avoid making the kinds of false assumptions that often kill our companies.

Observations like the ones I’ve described above, and my ability to make them, help me recognize the kinds of things I’ve learned since getting rejected from Techstars. Even if, five minutes from now, someone successfully persuades me I’m wrong about all of the lessons I’ve shared, it doesn’t change or diminish the role my Techstars rejection played in my personal education and growth. Had Techstars not rejected me and my company, all the subsequent events in my entrepreneurial career that followed wouldn’t have happened — I got accepted to a different accelerator, I raised venture from different investors, I hired different employees, I moved to a different city, and so on.

Would I have been happier with the progression of my life and career had I been accepted to Techstars Seattle in 2010? I have no idea. Am I happy with my life and career now? Absolutely.

What that tells me — and hopefully tells anyone reading this — is that, in the moment, a rejection usually feels like something preventing us from reaching our goals. But we shouldn’t let it discourage us. After a bit of time we’ll be able to look back and see how our rejections were the starting points of new paths forward.

5 Entrepreneurship Myths I Heard From A High Schooler

A high schooler came by my office last week. He was on campus for some sort of summer program, and he was persistent about wanting to meet — including referencing statements I made on this website — so I welcomed him to stop by.

When I asked him why he wanted to meet, he launched into a mini-soliloquy about his goal of becoming an entrepreneur. It was a well-prepared speech, but it was filled with misconceptions.

Thankfully, he never once mentioned wanting to make lots of money, so that was at least one misconception I didn’t have to correct. However, he had plenty of other overly romantic notions about entrepreneurship.

The rest of our conversation focused on why and how he should reconsider some of those notions. It was a bit like telling a six-year-old that Santa Clause isn’t real, but hopefully it resulted in a potential young entrepreneur being better prepared to pursue his professional ambitions.

In the hopes of helping other young entrepreneurs who find this website, I decided I’d write a post highlighting some of the entrepreneurial myths my high school visitor and I discussed.

Myth 1: Entrepreneur is a job title

I’m not sure who the first person was who listed his professional title as “entrepreneur,” but I think I’m going to embark on a personal crusade to end the practice.

“Entrepreneur” isn’t a profession. It’s not like being a doctor or lawyer or architect, and you don’t attend “entrepreneur school.” Instead, entrepreneur is a label that gets applied to your work.

If you want to be an entrepreneur, don’t start calling yourself one. Instead, start building a business. Someone will call you an entrepreneur eventually. Just don’t be surprised if, when it finally happens, you discover that you don’t actually care about having the title.

Myth 2: Entrepreneurs don’t work for other people

Although people who own their own businesses don’t have bosses, not having a boss actually increases the number of people you’re accountable to.

First, and foremost, your customer is always your boss. When there’s no one higher in your organization than you, the responsibility for the happiness of those customers always falls on your shoulders.

In addition, if you build venture-backed startups like me, you’ll get investors. My investors are wonderful (and relatively relaxed) mentors, but they hold me accountable, and I’m always working for them.

Lastly, if you have employees, you’re working for them and their families, too. In fact, I guarantee no boss will ever make you feel the same level of obligation and accountability as an employee with a newborn baby.

Myth 3: Get an entrepreneurial education to prepare yourself for having a great idea

Too many young entrepreneurs I speak with think they need to study entrepreneurship so they’ll know what to do once they finally have their brilliant idea.

But that’s not how entrepreneurship works. Ideas don’t just fall from the sky, and no amount of classes or books (or blog reading) will adequately prepare you for what happens once you start a company. That’s not to suggest you stop learning. Just don’t expect all of your reading and research to instantly translate into entrepreneurial success. Some lessons you have to learn through doing… and failing.

Myth 4: You should get a job after college with the intention of leaving it in a few years to start your own company

An overwhelming number of my students (and high schoolers who want to become my students) tell me they plan to get a job when they graduate, work at the job for 3-5 years to “get experience,” and then leave to found their own companies.

That scenario might occasionally happen, but it’s really not the kind of thing you plan. Life is far too random. You might get a job, love it, and not want to leave. You might get a job, start a family, and no longer be able to accept the financial uncertainty that comes with starting your own venture. Or you might step off a curve and get hit by a bus.

Hopefully that last thing doesn’t happen, but, the point is, your professional life will be too uncertain to take such a rigid approach to entrepreneurial pursuits. Or, in truth, to any pursuits far in the future.

Myth 5: Your primary goal as an entrepreneur is to change the world

It’s not that I don’t believe in trying to help the world or that entrepreneurs shouldn’t strive to be a positive influence on the world. I do believe entrepreneurs can have a world changing impact. But “changing the world” shouldn’t be your goal. It can be an outcome.

Instead, focus on your company and the problems it solves. If you do that successfully, you’ll likely find yourself in a position to “change the world.” Or, at the least, you’ll be in a better position to pursue an idea that can.

5 Tips On How To Ask For An Introduction

Having survived as a founder in the tech startup world for a decade, I’ve met lots of fellow “industry folk.” Being a dutiful founder, I’ve connected with most of them on LinkedIn. As a result, while I’m by no means a tech industry goliath, on LinkedIn I show up as a second degree connection to some of the industry’s biggest names. Because of this, I get lots of intro requests.

Since the people in my network have made hundreds of intros on my behalf over the years, I try to “pay it forward” and provide requested intros whenever possible. However, as the volume of intro requests increases while the number of hours in my day stays constant, I wanted to write a post explaining the best way to ask for an intro if you want to increase the odds of actually getting one — especially a good one — from me or from anyone in your network.

1. Only ask for intros from people who know you well

In my mind, this one seems obvious. And yet, I get a surprising number of intro requests from people I hardly remember meeting. What those people don’t understand is that an introduction reflects on the person making the intro. Since I want to maintain good relationships with my connections, I prefer to introduce them to people I know, respect, and trust not to embarrass me.

When I don’t know much about the person requesting an intro, I’ll feel uncomfortable making it, and one of three things will happen: 1) I’ll make an intro that includes caveats about how I don’t know you well, which could reflect poorly on you; 2) I’ll turn down your request; or, most likely, 3) I’ll ignore you and hope you go away.

If you don’t want these things to happen when you request an intro, always establish a strong relationship with a person before attempting to leverage his or her connections.

2. Ask for introductions to specific people

Every few weeks I get an email asking: “Can you introduce me to anyone who does X?” While I probably do know someone who “does X,” I probably can’t remember that person off the top of my head, so granting your request means I’ll have to do extra work in order to figure out who I can connect you with.

When I reply to this kind of request with a “let me think about that” response and never follow-up, it’s not because I don’t want to help. It’s because you’ve actually asked me to do two things: introduce you and figure out who to introduce you to.

By doubling the amount of work you’re asking someone to do on your behalf, you’re halving the chance of the person actually doing it. Instead, do your research ahead of time to figure out who in your contact’s network you want to speak with, and then ask for an introduction to a specific person.

3. Ask for one introduction at a time

The record for number of introductions someone has asked me for in a single email is 13. Guess how many he got.

In the same way introductions are valuable to you, they represent a cost for the people making them. When you ask for multiple introductions, you’re raising the cost, and, like anything in life, at some point the costs get too high.

4. Send a “forwardable” email

Requesting an introduction from someone is like asking that person to do extra work on your behalf. While your strongest connections will usually be willing to do as much work as you need, you can get intros from not-quite-as-strong connections simply by making the task easier.

To streamline an intro request, write a concise email that the person making the intro on your behalf can share with minimal edits, and let him or her know the message can be forwarded. In addition to increasing the likelihood of getting an intro, “forwardable” emails also allow you to control the message that gets sent, which will help facilitate future conversations with the person you’re getting introduced to.

5. Make your connection feel comfortable saying “no”

When I ask for intros, I try to include a line in my email saying something like: “If you’re not particularly close with [Person’s Name] or don’t feel comfortable sharing her info, I understand.”

It might seem counterintuitive, but including this kind of “escape path” actually makes people more likely to make introductions because they don’t feel as much pressure, particularly in situations where they don’t have a strong connection with the person you’re trying to reach.

In addition, telling your connections you understand if they can’t make an introduction shows you’re mature enough to understand the significance of your request. You’re not just asking for a quick email. You’re asking your contacts to link their reputations to yours with contacts and relationships they’ve work hard to cultivate. If you don’t think that’s a significant “ask,” you might need to reevaluate the quality of your own network.

Exploiting Arbitrage For Beer Money: An Early Sign Of A Successful Entrepreneur

When I was in college, we didn’t have an Innovation & Entrepreneurship program. I’m not sure I’d ever heard the word “entrepreneur.” Even if I had, I certainly didn’t call myself one.

But these days, I have high school students handing me business cards listing “entrepreneur” as their job title.

While I don’t know where the line is between entrepreneur and non-entrepreneur, I’m pretty sure calling yourself one doesn’t make it true — just like calling yourself an astronaut doesn’t make you an astronaut. However, as I look back on my college days, I wonder if the teenage version of me would have had the appropriate combination of audacity and naivety to call himself an entrepreneur.

Although I didn’t launch my first official company until three years after undergrad, I was, in retrospect, running a business in college. That business was an Ebay arbitrage business. I would buy Palm Pilots and Pocket PCs (early smartphone-like gadgets) that were selling for cheaper than what I knew they were worth, have them shipped to my dorm room, and then re-sell them for a few bucks more than what I’d paid. I eventually got so good at understanding the market and the Ebay platform that I could buy a product, immediately re-list it for more money, sell it, and then have the person I bought it from ship it to the person who bought it from me without either one knowing I’d been nothing more than a middle man.

Ebay arbitrage isn’t a way to get rich. But, for a college kid who had all his expenses otherwise covered, the extra income (and constant supply of new gadgets) made me the envy of my friends. Did it also make an “entrepreneur”?

I don’t honestly know, and it probably doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I was undoubtedly being entrepreneurial while learning the basics of business building.

Fast forward 15 years to today, I teach in an Innovation & Entrepreneurship program, and I meet hundreds of aspiring young entrepreneurs every year. The ones that seem to have the most potential as future entrepreneurs are never the ones that call themselves entrepreneurs. Nor are they the ones actively running companies.

Instead, the students who appear most likely to succeed at building their own businesses are the ones exploiting some sort of arbitrage hack for extra “beer money.”

I’m not ready to make any sweeping theories about what all this means, especially because I’ll probably need another decade to see which, if any, of my students build successful companies. But it’s something I’m watching closely.

What Bad Startup Founders Have In Common With Bad Drivers

You’re driving down the road and the car in front of you suddenly slows down. You quickly step on the breaks to avoid hitting him. Five seconds later, he turns into a parking lot. What a jerk!

Once he’s out of the lane, you punch down on your gas pedal a little harder than you need to, perhaps hoping he somehow hears the anger in your revved engine, and you annoyedly mutter: “Nice turn signal, a$$-hole.”

In that type of situation, your anger is justified. A driver who doesn’t use a turn signal is ignoring the simple fact that his turn signal isn’t for his benefit. Instead, he should be using his turn signal to communicate what he already knows — his impending slowdown — to the people around him so they can respond appropriately. By not properly communicating with others around him, he’s expecting people to respond to his actions based on information only he has. That’s what makes him a jerk.

While everyone knows people who don’t use their turn signals are jerks because they don’t properly communicate all relevant knowledge during an interaction, unsuccessful startup founders do the same thing all the time. Of course, nobody calls them jerks. Instead, they get praised for “trying hard,” and the people giving that praise placate themselves with lazy cliches like “startups are hard” and “most startups fail.”

Are you using your turn signals?

Although entrepreneurs and investors will name dozens of reasons why most startups fail, they only really fail for the same reason accidents happen when people don’t use turn signals: poor communication.

Don’t believe me? Let’s take a look at the five most common reasons startups fail according to CB Insights:

1) No Market Need – Companies that failed because they weren’t good at communicating how their product solves a market inefficiency.

2) Ran Out Of Cash – Companies that couldn’t communicate their value proposition in a way that convinced customers or investors to give them money.

3) Not The Right Team – The team never figured out how to communicate effectively with each other.

4) Get Outcompeted – Their competition was better at communicating a value proposition that was functionally identical.

5) Pricing/Cost Issue – Companies that were bad at communicating the value of their products, so they couldn’t charge enough to cover their costs.

The linked CB insights article lists 15 other common reasons startups fail. We could go through all of them, plus dozens of others, and see a direct link between the supplied reason for a company’s failure and poor communication. Any other reasons failed founders might give for why their companies shut down are actually just symptoms of poor communication. Trust me, I’ve failed plenty of times, and I’ve had to explain my failures a lot. While I, like most failed founders, prefer to shroud my shortcomings in more noble-sounding descriptions, every reason I give is just a byproduct of poor communication.

Why don’t people use turn signals?

Some people don’t use turn signals because they truly are jerks. However, most people simply forget. They’re so focused on themselves and what they have to accomplish they forget that other people around them aren’t thinking about the same things. When they approach their destinations they’re too busy thinking not just about the turn in front of them, but also everything they have to do once they make that turn: go into the store, buy some bread, buy some fruit, don’t forget the milk this time, etcetera.

The same is true for startup founders. Founders perform so many different jobs that, when speaking about their work with other people, they often forget how much more knowledge they have about their companies than the people with whom they’re talking. This results is poor communication of information.

In essence, a startup founder who neglects to consider the differences in knowledge between herself and the people she’s talking to is no different than the jerk who doesn’t use his turn signal. In that jerk’s mind, he knows exactly when he’s going to turn into a parking lot and what he’s going to do after the turn, and he doesn’t care if the people around him can’t possibly know those things or be prepared to respond appropriately.

If you’re struggling as a startup founder, ask yourself if you’re doing the same thing.

 

How Young Entrepreneurs Can Find World Changing Ideas

As someone who teaches in an entrepreneurship program, I spend lots of time talking with my students about how to come up with ideas for products and companies.

Personally, when assessing the potential of a company, I don’t prioritize ideas or products. I believe the most important indicator of success is a company’s approach to customer acquisition. But that’s because I’m old and practical.

My students, however, are young and idealistic and they want their ideas to “change the world” so they like to spend their time dreaming up world-changing ideas.

I think this is fantastic and I encourage it. Young entrepreneurs are exactly the kinds of entrepreneurs who shouldn’t be thinking about practicality and should be trying to change the world. Aside from having more risk-tolerance than people like me (e.g. no kids, no mortgages, etc.), their beliefs about the world aren’t as calcified by the way things currently work. As a result, they have a much better chance of seeing new opportunities for innovation and affecting genuine and lasting change.

Unfortunately, teaching people to identify world-changing ideas isn’t easy. Heck, I’m not sure it’s possible. But that doesn’t stop me from trying to teach it! Luckily, even if my approach is wrong, changing the world isn’t something that happens quickly, so it’ll take at least twenty years before there’s enough useful data to disprove my strategy.

Here’s a look at the framework I give my students for envisioning world-changing ideas. It’s difficult to execute, but it’s conceptually simple. I tell them they need to “see the future.”

How can someone “see the future”?

Yes, I realize nobody knows exactly what’s going to happen in the future. However, not being able to exactly predict the future isn’t the same as being able to roughly outline a general sense of the future based on current trajectories.

For an example, go read E. M. Forster’s “The Machine Stops.” It’s a short story written in 1909 that predicts technologies like the Internet and instant messaging. He doesn’t describe the technologies perfectly, but he comes pretty damn close. That’s because the technologies he’s describing didn’t have to exist in 1909 for Forster to know they were coming. All he had to do was look closely at the technological trends of his day, and, by doing so, he was able to predict the kinds of things that would appear a century later.

My job is to show my students how they can do the same exact thing. Here’s an example of seeing the future that, at least to me, seems like an obvious opportunity for innovation.

Self Driving Cars

Self driving cars are coming. Period. End of debate. There’s no doubt about it. They might take another decade or two to become common, but they’re coming and they’re going to have a major impact on the world.

If I were a young entrepreneur who had the flexibility to operate in an uncertain time horizon, I’d see the inevitable arrival of self-driving cars as a massive opportunity for innovation and monetization.

Just off the top of my head, here are a few examples of potential opportunities:

  1. The decay of driving infrastructure – In a world with self driving cars, less people will own cars, so less people will need driving infrastructure. One example of this would be decreased demand for parking. Parking facilities — especially in urban areas — will be available for redevelopment. Surely some world changing (and not-so-world-changing) opportunities exist in the inevitable collapse of the urban parking industry.
  2. Car-renting – If your car drives itself, why not rent it out when you’re not using it so it can be making you money? For people to rent their self driving cars, they’ll need some sort of rental infrastructure: apps, insurance policies, in-car vending machines, etc. Is there some niche company you can start now that will allow you to grow into a bigger market when it becomes available? For example, maybe you start an Uber vending machine company that, 15 years from now, becomes the world’s leader in car-based food storage systems.
  3. Automated Errands – The day my car drives itself is the day I’m putting my car to work for me. I’m never going to make another trip to the dry cleaners or pick up a prescription at the pharmacy. Instead, I’ll send my car. Of course, picking up my dry cleaning won’t happen by magic. The dry cleaner is going to need some sort of app that identifies my car, and I’m going to need some way of paying for my clothes. Someone is going to have to build those tools, which means some entrepreneur is going to be able to create a business around them.

Are any of the above ideas good ideas? Are any of them world changing? I have no idea. I just know that self-driving cars are going to create opportunities for new businesses, and, if I were taking entrepreneurship classes in college instead of teaching them, I’d be trying to figure out how to start pushing my way into that market now before everyone else does.

Some Other Examples

Self driving cars aren’t the only example of a predictable future. Here are some other industries I’d be looking at if I were a young entrepreneur:

  • 3D Printing – At some point in the not-too-distant future, 3D printers will be as common as regular printers.
  • Blockchain – As a protocol, blockchain is currently where the World Wide Web was 20 years ago. Get ready for massive adoption.
  • Renewable Energy – Whether you’re an environmentalist or not, there’s no denying that unlimited energy sources are good business.
  • Genetics – Pretty soon, everyone is going to know what they’re pre-disposed to dying from. That’s going to create some strange, yet lucrative opportunities.
  • Wearables – So far, most wearables have either been clunky or can sometimes tell you your pulse. That will change eventually.

This list isn’t meant to be exhaustive. It’s just an example of some of the obvious predictions we can make about future technological trends. Right now, the only opportunity in those trends are the direct industry opportunities of building the core technologies themselves. However, in the not-too-distant future, as those industries mature, they’re going to create an enormous amounts of ancillary and tangential opportunities.

You can either wait for those industries to mature and then join the gold rush alongside better funded and more experienced entrepreneurs. Or, if you’re young and ambitious and flexible with your time horizon, you can think carefully about where the industries are headed right now and go stake your claim while the land is cheap.

The Two-Letter Word That Will Kill Your Startup

As a young entrepreneur, I remember calculating the market opportunity for multiple startup ideas using some formulation of the following “back-of-the-envelope” math:

The market has X-many-millions of people. So, if I only capture Y-tiny-percent of that market, I’m going to have Z-ridiculous-amount of money.

Luckily, I advanced beyond that kind of flawed thinking fairly quickly. However, one element of it persists in my work and the work of some of the most sophisticated and successful entrepreneurs I know. It’s a phenomenon I like to call the “if-conditional.”

Here are some versions of the “if-conditional” I guarantee you’ve heard. More than likely, you’ve personally used them:

  • “If we can close X% of the leads we’ve got coming into the pipeline…”
  • “If only X% of our website visitors click our ads…”
  • “If we can just get picked up by a couple of media outlets…”
  • “If just one of our videos goes viral…”
  • “If we get just one investor to commit…”

Do you see the pattern? It’s a pattern entrepreneurs deploy when strategizing or planning future steps. We’re often forced to make decisions without having all the data we need, so we make assumptions about some of the data, and those assumptions take the form of the above conditionals.

The challenge of the “if-conditional” is that it usually oversimplifies an incredibly complex task. Let me parse the examples above to show what I mean:

Example 1: “If we can close X% of the leads we’ve got coming into the pipeline…”

The act of “closing leads” in a sales pipeline isn’t something that magically happens. Depending on the product, a typical sales process can take anywhere from two to twenty meetings including qualifications, demos, proposals, negotiations, trainings, trials, contracts, and any number of other process-specific requirements.

In other words, “closing” even a single lead requires multiple people and dozens of hours of work. Doing that hundreds of times costs… well… a lot more.

Example 2: “If only X% of our website visitors click our ads…”

People don’t randomly click things on websites. Even your 90-year-old grandma who you think randomly clicks things on websites isn’t actually randomly clicking. Visitors to websites click things because UX developers, web designers, and optimization experts spend their careers studying website usage and creating designs that complement and control our actions

If you’re getting enough traffic to your website where some small percentage of clicks will result in significant ad revenue, I guarantee someone on your team is knowledgeable enough about user interfaces to be angry at you for thinking that getting clicks is easy.

Example 3: “If we can just get picked up by a couple of media outlets…”

Anyone who thinks getting press coverage is easy has never actually tried getting press coverage in their life. It’s a herculean undertaking with no guarantee of success.

Example 4: “If just one of our videos goes viral…”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Example 5: “If we get just one of investor to commit…”

You might have better luck getting something to “go viral.”

The point is, when making assumptions about the progress of your company, the word “if” is unassuming but extremely dangerous. Yes, it’s only two letters, but those two letters often obfuscate tasks that are enormously complex, difficult, time consuming, expensive, and perhaps impossible.

Since entrepreneurs tend to be optimistic (in the sense that they’re good at imagining scenarios leading to positive outcomes), their optimism allows them to overlook the complexity of the tasks neatly summarized by their “if conditionals.” Unfortunately, those conditionals represent the overwhelming bulk of the work. When you minimize that work, you don’t allocate enough time and resources to get everything done, and the result is usually failure.

If you want to avoid the trap of the “if conditional,” here’s my simple trick. Anytime I make a statement using some form of the phrase, “If we do X, then Y will happen,” I immediately stop and force myself to re-say the same exact statement while replacing my original “if conditional” with the following phrase:

“If we can do something that takes 12 months and costs us a million dollars.”

By properly accounting for an additional 12 month, million dollar process when devising a strategy, I guarantee you’ll have a much better chance of success. Best of all, if the process doesn’t take you 12 months and one million dollars, you’ll have lots of extra resources to devote to the next project that starts with an “if.”

4 Common Startup Mistakes I Made While Cutting Down A Tree

Last weekend, I chopped down a tree. I was too cheap to pay an extra $200 to have it cut down by the construction crew building a fence in my backyard, so I did it myself. Although I’d never cut down a tree before, it wasn’t a particularly large tree, so I figured I’d make quick work of it.

As I walked outside to unearth the offending oak, I told my wife I’d be done within an hour. Five hours later, I was exhausted and sore and had one less tree in my yard.

Since this isn’t a timbersports blog, I won’t describe any of the actual lumberjacking. Instead, I want to reflect on my naive “done within an hour” prediction because my miscalculations about cutting down a tree are the same kinds of mistakes I often warn my students about when advising them on their startups.

Mistake #1: Having the right tool doesn’t mean you won’t spend time configuring it

Though I don’t foresee myself felling many tress in the future, I took the time to get a chainsaw (in this case, a chainsaw borrowed from my in-laws). Why? Because cutting down a tree with a chainsaw is simple. Even as someone who’d never held a chainsaw, the time between blade-touching-bark to tree-on-the-ground was less than a minute. The relevant lesson here is that having the right tool for a job is usually well worth the cost.

What I didn’t account for was the time I’d spend getting the chainsaw working. It needed oil. It needed gas. It still wouldn’t start even with fresh oil and gas. The starter chord was sticking. It needed some extremely-hard pulling before it was finally loose enough to crank the motor.

All together, getting the chainsaw to actually saw things took an hour.

The same phenomenon often appears in startups. When you integrate a new tool or service into your workflow, the value-add can be enormous. But don’t assume the tool will magically start doing its job. You’ll spend a lot of time learning it, configuring it, and troubleshooting it. Be sure to account for that time in your planning.

Mistake #2: Trees that look small are much larger once you chop them down

Sure, the little hardwood I hacked was tiny compared to the massive pine tree next to it, but once it was lying horizontal, what I thought was barely more than a bush was actually five times my height. I’d originally planned on carrying it to the street for the garbageman to deal with, but I quickly discovered I couldn’t even drag it.

The corollary in startups usually appears when choosing a problem to solve. Young startup founders are often oblivious to how complex a problem and/or market is. Instead, they only see what they believe is the simplicity of their solution. Once they start working on the problem — once they chop down the proverbial tree — they discover it’s much bigger than they initially thought. At that point, they’re too far in to stop. Instead, they’re stuck with a fallen tree in the middle of their yard, and they have to find some way to move it.

Mistake #3: You’ll spend relatively little time on “fun” things like your product

Since my goal was to cut down a tree, I figured most of my time would be spent gloriously wielding a chainsaw and forcing mother nature to crumble before me. However, as mentioned previously, the tree cutting took maybe 60 seconds. The next four hours were spent cleaning up a tree. That task involved only a tiny bit more chainsaw-wielding fun, but lots more bending, bagging, and hauling of heavy things.

Doing a startup is the same. You begin the journey expecting to do glamorous product-related work like development, pitching VCs, disrupting industries, and selling millions of dollars worth of stuff. However, no matter how successful your company becomes, the overwhelming majority of your time gets spent doing things like building lead lists, writing emails, creating reports, fixing bugs, sitting in meetings that go nowhere, and providing customer support.

Mistake #4: Sometimes it’s better to just pay someone else

While revolutionary startups do exist occasionally, they’re rare. Instead, most startups solve problems other companies are already solving. Their solutions might be expensive, but they probably exist.

If you’re creating a company to solve a problem that’s already being solved because the current solution is too expensive, you should take time to understand the real reason it costs as much as it does. Is the current solution expensive because the company that makes it is greedy? Maybe. Or the problem might require a more expensive solution than you recognize based on your limited knowledge of the space.

That was the case with the tree I chopped down. Based on my limited experience, the problem seemed solvable with an hour of chainsawing-fun. Instead, it was five hours of lugging, hauling, sweating, backbreaking exhaustion. Now that I’ve cut down a tree — now that I have more knowledge about a particular type of problem — I would absolutely pay $200 to have someone else solve the problem for me.

Dear Facebook: Please Stop Trying To Steal My Co-Founder

A Note from Aaron: I published this post on my old blog when I was in my 20s and thought I knew more than I did. When launching my new site, I could either trash old content like this or port it over. I decided to port it over as a personal archive and reminder of my own evolution. In other words, sorry it sucks.


Dear Facebook,

I’m the backend developer for a growing startup called RocketBolt. As a startup, we have to overcome all sorts of hurdles like, you know, getting new users, improving our infrastructure, making sure we can pay our hosting bills every month — pretty much the usual. None of it bothers me because I was prepared for all the usual startup things. I was prepared to have friends and family smirkily asking me “So what new company are you building this week?” every time I see them. I was prepared for 48-hour, Adderall-fueld workdays. I was even prepared to start sneaking in and out of my fifth-story apartment via my four-story emergency escape ladder in order to avoid my landlord in case money got too tight.  But no one prepared me for the barrage of Facebook recruiters constantly trying to steal my co-founder, and it’s starting to piss me off.

Let me rewind a bit and explain what’s been going on. As I wrote before, I’m the backend developer for RocketBolt. That means I handle all the really tricky behind-the-scenes code that lets us generate a completely custom, fully-featured, dynamic application that then gets remotely embedded onto websites we have no control over via a single line of code. It’s not an easy task, but I love every minute of working on it because I’m either a masochistic idiot or… well… I’m not really sure what the other option is. I’m also lucky enough to be a backend developer whose childhood best friend became an extremely talented frontend developer and my eventual co-founder. That’s right — no Twitter Bootstrap for me! I don’t remember the last time I had to care what some ancient version of Internet Explorer does to my CSS, and I still produce great looking websites. It’s awesome.

But there’s one problem with the great working relationship my co-founder and I have, and, Facebook, it’s because of you. Not just you, of course. It’s also because of Google, and LinkedIn, and Groupon, and Twitter, and any number of other startup-dream-crushing goliaths. You all have discovered just how talented my co-founder is, and now your smooth-talking corporate headhunters are trying to hire him.

As with any relationship problems, I realize I can’t just blame someone else for everything. I realize I’m partially at fault, too. If I’m being completely honest with myself, I can see that I put myself in this position. I realize that when my co-founder designs an award-winning website like Intellisult.com, no one cares that the little rewards tab in the corner of the page exists because I spent eight months of blood, sweat, and code building a script that could be seamlessly integrated into any website without causing a single JavaScript, CSS, or page load glitch. No one can view the thousands of lines of code needed to build a custom admin interface to manage all of the application’s functionality. No one can know how the dozens of layers of security infrastructure work in order to limit spam and fraud. No, the only thing people see is a pretty looking website. And since I’m not the person who made the website pretty, I’m not the person getting six figure job offers.

Honestly, I’m fine with that. I don’t need your job offers to validate my work. I know I’m good at what I do. But what I do need is for you to stop trying to convince my co-founder to become your next mid-level designer because, let’s face it, a cushy job at a multi-billion-dollar company offering a steady income and dental benefits gets harder to turn down after each and every bite of Ramen.

So please, Facebook, Google, Microsoft, Apple, Twitter, and even Yahoo if you still exist, stop trying to steal my co-founder.

Or, at the very least, give me an office next to his.

Thanks,
Aaron