Archive for the ‘fear of not succeeding’ Category

Finding the chicken killers

February 24, 2009

In early 1996 I was contemplating my next career move, and was taking a serious look at Vivo Software, who had developed the industry’s first software-only desktop video conferencing system.  It was four years old, and had gone through three rounds of financing from some of silicon valley’s premiere VCs.  But what they’d learned was no one really needed desktop videoconferencing back then (ie they were generating no revenue). 

I liked the team a lot, they were being led by an experienced “CEO for hire” who was a well known entity in the venture capital community.  He’d been brought on board along with a new round of financing (Series D!) to take the company in a different direction – to pivot the technology to internet video.  He wanted to know if I would come on as VP of Marketing.  After some serious investigation, I took the plunge.

But the company had been working 80+ hours a week, for four years, and had heard every “success is just around the corner” story under the sun.  And here we were, needing to get them excited about success being just around the corner, again. 

The first day, the CEO and I were in a conference room talking through the plan to get the company going again, and needed to quickly sort out who was up to the task.  He grew up in Texas, and could get to the point with charm and a flair for language that was disarming. 

He looked at me and said “Pete, we need to figure out who the chicken killers are here”. 

“Huh?”  is what I thought, and said with the expression on my face. 

I asked him what he meant.  He said something very simple: “everyone likes to eat chicken, but when most folks want it, they buy it in the supermarket wrapped in plastic.  We need to find the folks who will go out back and kill the chicken themselves because they want it that badly.”

Then I smiled and nodded in acknowledgment.

What he meant was we needed the people who will do the dirty, thankless work, the unpleasant unseen tasks, stuff that most people assume someone else will do for them.  It’s the person who you explain something to, they understand it, and only come back to tell you they it got done.  And they did it differently than they’d planned or expected, dealt with broken commitments, maybe having to do someone else’s job.  They just got it done. 

There were going to be a lot of difficult, unpleasant tasks if we were going to take this embryonic internet video technology and make something of it.  It gave me a new lens to see my team with; I had two in my marketing team, and we had two in the developer group.  It mattered a lot as we restarted the company.

And we did make something of it.  24 months later, we sold the company to RealNetworks (by the time the lock-up expired, the value of our stock increased 10x).  Success really ended up being around that corner, and the chicken killers got us there.

It’s crucial to know who these people are where you work, and in your life, if you’re going to get the big meaningful things done.  I think about this a lot.

My wife is a chicken killer of the highest order.  She can cause incredible, positive structural shifts to be made in the behavior of an organization, can build consensus spanning government and private interests, and can manage complex processes with precision and ease.  She does this by making sure that everything and everyone has been considered, including the very unpleasant, messy things that no one else thinks of or quietly tries to avoid.

At her 40th birthday party, in a restaurant filled with her friends from all across the country, I made a toast to her.  I’d worked with a friend who was a talented artist, and had transformed what I had written into a folding hand-printed and hand-colored card.  At each page, there was a thought or reflection.  Everyone had a copy to follow along with. 

When I came to “She’s a chicken killer – doing the unpleasant, the tedious.  The things that others assume just happen”  I got that same look from the audience that I gave the CEO at Vivo. 

Then I explained what a chicken killer was, and across the room appeared the smiles, and then nods of acknowledgment.

Anticipation and resiliency

February 3, 2009

Big and unexpected changes are frequently less “unexpected” than we would like to admit sometimes, whether they occur in our personal lives or in our professional lives.  Sure, there are true shocks whose probability of occurring are so slim that they’re hard to anticipate, but much more often, the times when you have to confront an unpleasant change is something you knew was coming.

Henry Blodgett wrote a sober and ego-free article about why market bubbles happen, and will continue to happen.  A key point he makes is that bubbles happen naturally, for factors that in the long run will never be fully predicted or avoided, even though they may be anticipated.   He quotes investor Jeremy Grantham who sums it up well.  “We will learn an enormous amount in a very short time, quite a bit in the medium term, and absolutely nothing in the long term.”  The anticipation referred to here is anticipation of a bubble bursting, and the fear of the loss that will result. 

I love Henry Blodgett 2.0 (his role Merrill Lynch analyst was version 1.0).  He’s honest and humble, in a “serious scar tissue” kind of way.  I found his article refreshing because he was so direct about knowing the housing bubble was there, but that awareness provoked only a messy and clumsy understanding about what he should personally do about it that was best made sense of only with hindsight.  But by anticipating it he was able to see beyond the here and now, to the more pleasant and hopeful medium term, regardless of his near term decision making or consequences.

Early in 2008 we were advising our companies to expect a very hostile fundraising and operating environment in the second half of the year.  All we knew was something bad was coming, didn’t know the magnitude of the shock or the timing, just that it was coming.  What did we do differently?  Well, a lot, and nothing. 

Our companies applied a lot of scrutiny on expenses and revenue, for sure.  But they also continued to sell aggressively and keep product development schedules tight. 

So when October happened?  That was beyond bleak, but the companies in our portfolio methodically revised 2009 plans, optimized around a different set of variables (cash conservation, getting to profitability), and they addressed the very unpleasant tasks of expense and headcount reductions.  The entrepreneurs I was meeting with who were incubating new companies or raising money? They had a tough time of it, but by November, they were back, also with revised plans, showing how they could envision success even with so much less of everything to count on in their plans and assumptions.

Anticipation of an unpleasant outcome didn’t inhibit the responses of those of us in the startup community, anticipation enhanced the response.  It helped sharpen the focus more firmly on the fear of not succeeding, and fostered the resiliency we all need so very badly now, and enabled us to see beyond the near term. 

Over the holidays I confronted an earth-shattering shift in my personal life, and an unpleasant one I’d anticipated for many months.  What did I do?  Well, I focused myself on how to work through this, and to understand that the medium and long term are where to apply my focus.  Did the anticipation affect me or my response?  I think it did, I think it helped me move more quickly to focus on where success could be found beyond the near term. 

I find life in the world of startups fascinating and inspiring, where productively making use of anticipating an unpleasant outcome, having it serve as a means to provoke adaptability, provide a “stretchiness” to your thinking and ability to respond all comes so naturally.  We’re in a world where resiliency will matter a lot, and where for the foreseeable future there will be much to anticipate, a lot of it unpleasant.  But in the medium term there is much inspiration and excitement to be found, and resilience will help speed us from here to there.

[the holidays and ensuring rapid start to the year took me off line, blog-wise, so I am glad to get this first post off for the year, and look forward to resuming the active pace of November and December.  Thanks to all of you for your patience!].

Meaningful Failure

November 27, 2008

In my world as a venture capitalist and a veteran of four fairly successful startup companies, I see and have experienced failure, a lot. My colleagues and I talk about it a great deal, in familiar ways and in ways that assign value to failure that occurred in a meaningful way. With the big ideas and within the teams that build companies around these ideas, modest success is simply not valued as highly as failure that occurs while attempting something bold, new, and ambitious.

Outside of my world, failure is spoken of in ways that make me think the people doing the talking view failure more superficially than we do. It’s a pause on the way to success, something you move on from. It’s as if failure is treated as a currency that gets spent on the way, but it’s a currency that’s been in circulation too long; it’s grimy, and you don’t really want to touch it if you can help it.

In the ”sky’s the limit” world of startup companies it’s all about being in a place where you’re brave enough to go do something new and bold and the only thing you are scared of is not succeeding. My colleagues and I frankly spent less time worrying about the failure side of our businesses than we do understanding what the obstacles to success are. We know failure is going to happen. In those early days of our companies, in fact, one of the few things we know is that the plan will end up being wrong, or at least that the numbers in all those cells will be. But understanding why they are wrong – examining, seeking the knowledge of where we failed – is how we find the path to success.

It’s not that we’re in love with our failures, but we do have meaningful relationships with them.

Meaningful failure. It’s not just where things didn’t work out. It’s failure that happened even when you were really, really motivated for and focused on success. It’s that confluence of ambition and reach, hard work and commitment, preparation and talent; where all of that comes together, and it’s still not enough.

It’s why most of us have an iPod while we also still use Windows computers; Apple sure failed to get the Mac mainstream, but learned from that when they entered the music and phone businesses.

But this is a really big failure. What about the failures we all experience in our jobs and personal lives that happen on a very human scale. You can have ambitions, you can place yourself in uncomfortable and vulnerable positions in order to achieve something of importance to you, and still you can fail. In fact, if you accept, even embrace failure, then about all you can control is how you respond to it when it happens, and what you take with you to as a result of it.

I like the analogy of failure being the lubricant in the engine. Without it, the engine stops. Without the meaning from the failures we create and encounter, the engine of success will stop. Or rather, when success happens it will be a lot smaller. Failure can tell you why what you hoped would happen didn’t but also why something like it, or better, can and will. If you’re not experiencing failure, then, perhaps you’re not hoping with enough ambition. Embracing it, anticipating it, being resiliently open minded, well, that’s just being a good steward of a high performing engine.

That’s why when I describe what it’s like to be in a high octane startup I refer to it being in a place where you remain calmly focused on the very few reasons why you will succeed and not on the seemingly thousands of reasons why you might fail. You’re striving for performance towards the big goal, not results of any specific setback along the way. It places you on the balls of your feet, not your heals. You know failure’s bound to happen, so lean into it.

It’s as simple as shifting your perspective to a “fear of not succeeding,” which is fundamentally, and in a very nuanced way so much different from a “fear of failing.” By focusing on what it takes to succeed, you can embrace the fact that there will and should be many junctures involving failure along the way. It’s the focus on success that enables you to get the big things done in life.

But embracing failure and extracting the data isn’t enough. You need a resilient, open mind to care for and make use of what you learn from your failures. Resiliency is important; it provokes a stretchiness and adaptability of your frame of reference and enables you to let go of that firmly held set of assumptions developed yesterday in order to embrace a better, more informed set today.

I like to think of my life as living in a continuous startup. At some point along the way, I realized that it’s at the moment of failure where the real meaning is, where you can figure out both what you are deep down inside and then how to be a different, more capable you the next time. That in order to be living a life of meaning and value, failure has to be not just acknowledged but embraced as the missing ingredient to success.

When you’re busy being focused on how you’ll succeed and failure occurs, it seems so much simpler to look at what just happened as fodder and information to take another run at finding out how to succeed the next time. It may be that the “next time” is the next iteration of the business you run at your company today or a totally different business at a totally different company. The constant, however, is standing at a juncture of success, open-minded learning, and meaningful failure and being ready to take the next step.