All in Aspirations
Our natural reflex, when we’re evaluating a market, is to think of competition as being a negative factor. If there is a plethora of companies already operating in a given space, fighting it out for share, our immediate assumption is that this market is “taken” or that adding another player into the mix is a dumb idea.
This might be the case, but then again, it might not.
God doesn’t come from theology, but from inside our bellies - Russell Brand
The fact of the matter is that handbooks, while helpful, are not really needed. The guidance is useful, often thought provoking, and many times, confirming.
A while ago, I watched a Michael Smerconish interview of Roger Waters (of Pink Floyd fame). It was centered around his tour and the frequent political statements he made during his shows.
At one point, he asked Waters:
There’s a level of chaos involved in the Karachi experience - that is, living a normal, everyday life in the Pakistani city.
It’s the 11th most populated city in the world, one that’s been economically impacted by a number of factors (as has the country as a whole) over the last few decades.
I’ve got a bit of an issue with articles that proclaim that the golden age of something or the other is over. (I saw one recently proclaiming that the golden age of American dining was over.)
I get that stream of thought when it comes to specific brands or technologies. For example, I don’t think any of us would disagree that The Golden Age of the Walkman is pretty much done and dusted. Or that The Golden Age of Atari is essentially behind us.
You’ve probably seen some version of the cartoon.
Two characters in front of a complex flowchart or process map drawn on a whiteboard. The steps on the chart are numerous, many run in parallel, all interlinked and codependent in some way. There’s no clear path to the end until, a single process step with the miracle action we’ve been waiting for:
Free Soloing is a form of climbing that’s done without any sort of protection - no ropes, no harnesses, no climbing gear. Nothing but a good pair of climbing shoes, chalk to keep your hands dry and your technique and wits. It’s been around for decades but came back into the spotlight in the excellent documentary, Free Solo, which profiled Aex Honnold and his free ascent of El Capitan in Yosemite, a truly spectacular and breathtaking achievement.
The universe seems to be on a Keanu Reeves binge at the moment.
Everything he does in his reel life is pretty much turning to gold. (OK - maybe not everything, but enough that it matters.) Meanwhile, his actions in real life show him to be the kind of person we probably all want to be.
Keanu Reeves’ Philosophy even seems to be a thing, and we caught a glimpse of it in a recent appearance…
I was on Twitter recently and came across the following tweet:
Very early on in my career, I went to meet a senior executive at one of the fastest growing entertainment companies in Asia.
At the time, I was a Marketing Executive in the Consumer Goods space and, while the work was interesting, I wanted to explore what else was out there, especially in this exciting new area that was taking Asia (I lived in Hong Kong at the time) by storm.
One of the things that I love about the Montessori education system is its focus on developing independence and confidence and instilling self-esteem in children.
In fact, one of the central tenets of that system is Valorization. I was reminded of this in a recent video from the RPMS school (which is where my kids went). Valorization is about:
It’s hard not to focus on the Finish line, on completing the task and getting things done.
We seem to be hardwired to be that way, or at the very least, programmed to focus on it.
Our emphasis, then, is on the end point, how we’ll feel when it’s all over. And all of our efforts goes towards that end and getting “the result”.
The problem with that mindset is that we lose sight of what’s probably the most important part: the journey.
If you spend any time online looking for advice (of any sort - personal or business), you’re bound to come across articles that espouse the “1 question you need to ask” or the “3 signs that you’ll be successful”. The intention behind these articles is clear - if you’re on the path to X, and if you pay attention to these one or two or three things, then you’ll get there.
I get the simplicity of the approach and I appreciate it’s allure, especially if the advice is coming from someone we consider to be successful (or from someone who works for a company we consider to be conventionally successful).
I’ve talked about situations where leaders and managers struggle to say “I don’t know” because of their fear of seeming incompetent or not being “in the know”. It’s an approach that rarely works and, more often than not, breeds frustration and angst, because it goes against the reality that real leaders are human, open and willing to be vulnerable.
On the flip side, we also see situations where perfectly competent individuals - individuals who know their stuff and know the situation at hand - are unwilling to say what they think. They remain quiet even when they know better, even when their expertise, experience and gut are telling them otherwise.
Why does this happen?
“To me, happiness is about an expectation of positive change. Every year before 2016, there was an improvement in my expectations — in the team, the product, or the company. This was the first time in my life when the present year felt worse than the last.“
The above quote come from Sahil Lavingia’s Medium article titled “Reflecting on My Failure to Build a Billion-Dollar Company”, which recounts how he built what by any normal standard would be considered a successful business but a failure by traditional Venture Capital standards (and as he says, his own).
If you’re going to do anything different, you’re going to get criticized.
There’s no shortage of folks willing to offer you advice if you’re thinking about a new venture, a new project or a new position. They’ll range from friends, family as well as business colleagues - well intentioned or otherwise. Some of it you might actively ask for, but a lot of it will be offered to you, at no extra cost.
We all like the idea of getting along.
In business relationships specifically, harmony is an essential ingredient in successful, long term relationships. If we have harmony, we have alignment, we have consensus (at least in terms of direction), we have the grounds for collective momentum.
The trick is in making sure that the basis for that harmony is real. Harmony isn’t about happiness, hugs and kisses. It’s often hard to get to, many times requiring debate, disagreement and (periodic) discontent. Achieving real harmony is almost always hard work.
“There's a concept in Hinduism called "dharma," which means "duty." Your dharma is to always do *the next right thing*, without attachment to the consequences (karma). When you follow your dharma, good karma naturally flows from it. When you don't, it doesn't.“
I’m not a religious person, nor would I call myself overly spiritual, but I do believe in the old saying, “what comes around, goes around”. Which is probably why the above tweet from Asha Rangappa resonated so strongly with me the other day.
I’m reading a book called “Coal Black Mornings” by Brett Anderson, the lead singer and founder of the British band, Suede, which had their heyday in the BritPop era of the 1990s through early 2000s.
(Suede is in my Top Five bands of all time, but while popular in Britain, they’ve been largely ignored in the US. If you haven’t heard of them, they’re absolutely worth checking out - start with the first two albums.)
There’s a passage in the book where he talks about his song writing process, and writes:
There’s a difference between “personal” and “personalized”.
In an age where Marketers are working to find ways to make their messages more customized, more tailored, more specific to who we are, there’s still a marked difference between the two. Just because that email is addressed to you, or there’s a special offer made on your birthday, doesn’t actually make it personal. It’s simply programmed to appear that way.
