Why I Practice Singing As Much As Pitching

Image courtesy of HamptonsAudioVisualRentals.com

 

Years before I started practicing my business pitch as a CEO, I was practicing how to do two other things in front of people: speak publicly and sing. Exercises in public speaking began as early as grade school, and served me well during science fairs and group presentations. However short-lived my science career turned out to be (another story for another time), the science fairs on the county and state levels bolstered not only a comfort, but an enjoyment in speaking before a crowd.

As I entered high school, though, I began to do something else just as seriously: I began to sing. I began to practice singing as often as I could, and not just in the shower. I was practicing with headphones, a microphone and amplifier setup so I could know exactly how my voice sounded coming through a loudspeaker (of sorts). I was doing the band thing with my friends, and we were going to conquer the world. That meant I needed to be able not only get up in front of a crowd and make some sort of sound come out of my mouth, but I needed to be able to control it.

I needed to be able to control every aspect of my voice: the tone, the inflections, the power, the breath, the range, and the melody. That’s what it took to be a lead-singer and/or rockstar, and that’s what I was going to do. I couldn’t have known it at the time, but all that practice for my music career—understanding the qualities of my voice and what it was (and wasn’t) capable of—is proving invaluable well beyond my intended career as a musician.

I’ve blown my voice out numerous times in the past exploring new ranges, techniques, pronunciations, and vocal styles. I’ve had days where people inquired about my “laryngitis.” But it’s ok, because a day later I’m all ready to go again, and each time I nail a new song and find the delivery that works for my voice, I get to know my own talkbox a little better. With that discovery comes a deeper understanding of how my voice sounds to other; its melody, its tone, its inflections. (It also has helped with my breathing, which is something I believe every public speaker should continually work on).

But the most important thing I’ve grown to have a deeper understanding of is the power and range that my voice can have. That’s something that transcends the rock stage and applies directly to my trajectory now as a CEO. Speaking comes with the territory, and having a notion of my range and potential power is like having an ace up my sleeve. I know how far I can push myself before my voice disappears under too much strain, and I what I can now do to avoid that blowout.

I practice singing any number of things as I continue to test my voice and its boundaries: post-grunge, alternative rock, ska punk, pop, metal, classic rock, rap, reggae, male vocals, female vocals—anything that piques my taste and can give me more of an edge. In retrospect, practicing singing has been as much of an advantage as practicing my business pitch. I would suggest to anyone who spends time speaking in public to start singing—really singing: really try to nail that melody, try to match and control your breathing, find the inflections that work best for you, and find your own power.

Besides, we all wanted to be rockstars at some point, right? Maybe there’s still time for some of us—maybe all of us.

Fred Wilson Believes in Things That Everyone Else Thinks Are Wrong (But Are Actually Right)

A couple of weeks ago I attended the LAUNCH Festival in San Francisco, where I saw a number of amazing speakers over a three-day period. Needless to say the cross-country trip from Atlanta was worth it. However, despite the fact that there were numerous speakers whose points have stuck in my head since then (particular favorites of mine were Yancey Strickler (Kickstarter), Jeff Weiner (LinkedIn), Chris Sacca (VC) and Tony Hawk (yes I’m a huge fan of skating and the Brown Brigade)), the speaker whose comments were most easily accessible to me was Fred Wilson (Union Square Ventures).

Since the wrap-up of the festival, Jason Calacanis has published a couple of posts and tweets noting the fact that his fireside chat with Wilson was one of the most popular interviews of the whole event. This I readily believe, as I sat with rapt attention as Wilson discussed a number of topics. Actually, Wilson made so many good points during his chat that I need to dissect it through a number of posts rather than in just one.

Of particular interest to me though was one thing that Wilson said. It clearly demonstrated to me his line of thinking when it came to identifying new companies that he liked to become (or was likely to become) involved in: “Believe in something that everyone thinks is wrong (but actually turns out to be right).”

That terse statement, which Wilson actually attributes as something Bill Gurley once wrote, underscored his thinking when it comes to herd-mentality and how he identifies opportunities. While I’m sure there are certainly other factors at play, the qualifier word “wrong” is an interesting choice for his (Gurley’s) adage; it implies quite clearly that he identifies opportunities not only in areas or with companies that might be viewed as rare or unconventional, but ones which may be entirely against the grain of “logical” thinking at the time. This by extension highlights the fact that one can expect Wilson’s current and future investments to be in areas or companies wherein others might not dare even entertain the notion of involvement. He benefits from the fear factor that clears the road in front of him to make it an open highway while others see the words “do not enter.” [1]

Though I’ve followed Wilson’s blog for some time now, since LAUNCH I’ve been reading his posts with this new thought in mind. With each new post I read, there’s now that nagging question in the back of my mind: “what’s the thing in this post that Wilson has identified that others think is flat-out wrong (but is actually right)?” There isn’t always a phrase with a blinking sign screaming “it’s me!” but the point remains that with each subsequent post comes a learning opportunity to go back and reexamine a possibility that I might have dismissed earlier as a “do not enter” sign.

I’m interested to see Wilson’s posts over the next month or so. I’m curious to see what piques his interest enough to blog about it that others may have already dismissed or avoided. I suspect that Wilson’s thought process might very well be as alternative as his Egon Schiele-esque Twitter profile pic (by the way Fred, kudos on that; art-history nerds like me rejoice in the fact that so many within the tech industry use so much modern art imagery). I believe that’s precisely how he’s able to identify opportunities that others miss, or dismiss altogether.

 

Thanks to Dad for reading drafts of this.

 

Notes


[1] Wilson also stated that he had been on the board of a non-profit called DonorsChoose for a few years, which, as he put it, “does exactly, exactly what Kickstarter does” for teachers and public schools. As a result of his involvement with this previous venture, which was raising between $30-40M at the time, Wilson notes that he had a bit of an inside look at the very sort of mechanism upon which Kickstarter was building.

Mean People Fight; Creative People (Sometimes) Argue

In his essay “Mean People Fail” a few months ago, Paul Graham has provided more food for thought (for me, at least) than much of anything I’ve read of late. [1] The essay itself is a clear caution against acting nastily to others, as such actions can impede or prevent one’s intended goals. Most of the themes discussed therein I agree with readily as they are so common-sense that to disregard such proposals seems utterly preposterous.

There is, however, one area which Graham touches on lightly that I feel needs a little more attention. Graham’s short paragraph on fighting is truthful (I believe) in its intended message and account of reality. However, we all speak from our own experiences, and I feel that the term “fighting” may be too broad a term, particularly for an industry as genuinely artistic and creative as startups and tech. While I understand Graham’s point here (he is undoubtedly using the term “fighting” to refer to pointless disagreements, high tempers, and accusatory tones that lead nowhere), I think a deeper examination is warranted.

I fear the term “fighting” may be overrepresented in cases where the term “arguing” fits more appropriately. In an industry where creativity and outthinking the competition are not only realities but necessities for successful startups, it may very well be in times of arguing differing views that an answer or pivot point presents itself. Good answers and opportunities do not always appear within the vacuum of “a good day” and sometimes take a little more pressure to fully crystalize.

Much like the music industry where arguments between band members or artists and producers can (and many times do) produce the best creative results, arguing is not only a luxury but a necessity. The creative frustration can at times reach a critical mass before a meltdown occurs. But if the proper alternative lines of thinking are presented at the right time, then that critical mass not only returns to normal, but can yield a result not viewable before the high rise of creative pressure and focus. It is this creative force which drives many musicians, and which I’m sure can be likened to the creative drive to build that drives those within the tech space.

Creation is a messy, dissonant, sometimes quite frustrating process. But it’s precisely that power and sheer will to succeed that many of the great ideas (albums) are born from. Graham is not wrong about his discussion of fighting; pointless accusations and infighting drain a startup’s (as well as a band’s) lifeforce and ability to thrive (it’s this definition of “fighting” that I am convinced Graham is referencing in his essay). A band, like a startup, is very much like a marriage: both are living, breathing organisms, requiring constant care, adjustment, and which, at times, can become arenas for argument and restructuring. But, though the prospect of adjustment may pose a distasteful reality for a startup team, it could lead to bigger and better things. Then you go from being Iron Maiden with Paul Di’Anno to being Iron Maiden with Bruce Dickinson. [2]

 

Thanks to Mom, Dad, Charles Jo, Terrence Yang, and Scott Menor for reading earlier drafts of this.

 

Notes


[1] This essay does not reflect the beliefs of Paul Graham or any of those mentioned in his “Thanks” section, except where the original essay’s thesis was referenced. These are merely my own thoughts on the the thesis that Graham presented in his original text.

[2] Though I prefer the lead vocals of Bruce Dickinson, I quite like the Paul Di’Anno releases of Iron Maiden (1980) and Killers (1981) as well, since both albums are notable in their own rights. However, it is indisputable that Iron Maiden grew to new heights under Dickinson’s leadership, thus the point of the example in the essay.

Their Response Was Not a Fuckup; It Was Exactly Right

Just a few minutes ago, Product Hunt CEO Ryan Hoover posted a tweet and article on Medium acknowledging what he called a terrible fuckup; Product Hunt’s validation programming had made the erroneous assumption that all founders are male by using the article “his” when discussing validated identity.

Screenshot of tweet to Product Hunt, earlier today 2/19/15

Screenshot of the tweet to Product Hunt, earlier today 2/19/15

The reaction from Hoover and Product Hunt to the tweet was exactly what it should have been: mortification at such a presumptuous error, speedy rectification of the problem, a personal apology to Allyson (the tweeter), and an immediate blog post owning up to the misstep for others to be mindful of. Frankly I would have been impressed by the first two things; but to see all this unfold in sequence in an expedited manner reaffirmed the reasons I use PH, and why I consider them an example of a company to emulate.

Response tweet by Ryan Hoover to the discovered problem

Response tweet by Ryan Hoover to the discovered problem

 

The corrected response on Product Hunt

Screenshot of the corrected response on Product Hunt

I have to give it up to the whole PH team; it’s not easy to admit a mistake, particularly when it’s brought to one’s attention in such a public arena. But they really went above and beyond in their response, and the subsequent Medium piece by Hoover really underscored their commitment to gender equality that I very much respect them for.

Well done PH, take a bow. We should all strive to be as good as this.

 

Notes

[1] The images used in this post were taken from Ryan Hoover’s original Medium blog post.

Flexibility in a Deviceless Atmosphere

Mattermark CEO Danielle Morrill just published a Medium post detailing her transition from being a laptop-laden executive to living (work) life sans laptop. According to her post, she now relies on four main devices, only two of which account for work-based devices: 1) 5K iMac with iMac Cinema Display (work), 2) older iMac version (home), 3) 13″ MacBook Pro (home), and 4) iPhone 6+ (work and home).

One of the reasons she notes for her transition to fewer devices in her work life is the health benefits that come with such a transition (under the subtitle “Walking More”). Short and to the point, her basic explanation is that the changeover has allowed her to begin taking part in a healthier lifestyle. As Morrill notes, laptops are heavy (relative to an iPhone, for example), and carrying one back and forth to work can certainly be a tax on one’s back and muscles. I know—I carry mine everywhere when I go out to Starbucks to get some work done or to a business meeting.

Yet one of the things that Morrill lightly touched on was her desire to walk more to and from the office, and reap the benefits of being able to do so sans laptop. This struck a particular chord with me because of the amount of physicality that’s associated with my own job.

Being in the music business can be physically taxing: nights spent at shows—standing in dive bars or clubs—for hours on end waiting to speak to artists after the set-list finishes can be a challenge sometimes. While I’m certainly not in the habit of bringing my laptop out to a show (nor would I bring a tablet), reliance on my iPhone is just half of the equation; the other half is being able to stand for that 4-6 hour window—oftentimes in a smoke-filled (dingy) atmosphere next to sweaty bodies (and even sometimes in a moshpit)—and remain limber enough to talk to that artist after the show and project a professional vitality on par with their high of playing to an audience. In this industry, if you can’t project that to an artist, you have close to nothing.

And that’s the reason Morrill’s piece resonates with me on such a deep level: though we work in completely different industries, her thoughts about moving around unencumbered—”No backpack. No purse. No laptop[,]” as she puts it—are sentiments that hit me directly precisely because they can and do apply so much to the music business. Running a tech startup is a challenge, but the ability to transition between tech CEO and music industry professional is critical; perhaps so much so because one must be able to talk with and pitch artists most times without any graphs, slideshows, or devices available—you need to be able to speak their language, and that most times consists of nothing more than a vision, a business card and damn pitch.

So while Morrill’s experience in transitioning to a lesser device-filled professional track comes from experience in a different industry, the basic premise of health and flexibility carries over in a very palpable way. I look forward to (and hope to see) Morrill writing a further update on the changeover; in a funny way, it provides a good roadmap for those of us with highly physical jobs to see how one can be simultaneously flexible and productive.

Taylor Swift Can’t Sue Me Yet

Last week, I posted an article detailing Taylor Swift’s statement that she intends on trademarking phrases from her most recent album 1989 like “this sick beat” and “party like it’s 1989.” I found the statement equally outrageous and unsurprising, as Swift seems intent on continuing to provide headlines in the wake of Swiftgate. [1] My disdain for this sort of play by Swift is fairly apparent.

Taylor Swift; Image courtesy: Getty Images for Moet & Chandon Astrid Stawlarz

Taylor Swift; Image courtesy: Getty Images for Moet & Chandon Astrid Stawlarz

But let’s back up for a moment. My disdain is not brought on by some anti-business philosophy or pro-starving-artist sentiments. That would make it super convoluted and essentially amorphous in meaning. It’s actually a lot simpler than that: my disdain is driven by how Swift’s actions are affecting her fans, and the subsequent results that may (and most likely will) occur. While I applaud Swift, and artists like her, for taking their business futures by the horns and seeking to transform themselves from solely artists into artists/business people, I do not agree with the way in which Swift is going about it. And apparently, neither do some of her fans.

Today, Buzzfeed reported that Swift’s lawyers began threatening Etsy sellers with legal action (which we all know is code for “we’re going to sue you the minute the ink dries”) if they didn’t take down products they were selling which referenced either Swift’s lyrics or music. Normally this would be a completely reasonable thing to request (though in this case, the “request” is actually a demand), except for 3 things:

  1. The respective Etsy sellers were selling one-off items, or just cobbled-together fan paraphernalia; hardly enough to either cause Swift any sort of economic hardship or make her any real money anyway
  2. Swift doesn’t own the trademarks yet
  3. Swift is biting the hand that feeds her (her fans), and appears happy to keep doing it

So let’s take these one at a time. Regarding point number one, we’re talking about little pieces of jewelry or candles with bits of Swift’s lyrics referenced—hardly enough to be of any real threat (or benefit) to her “empire.”

Number two, as is clearly spelled out in this Time article, in 2014 Swift merely applied for the trademarks she’s already aggressively protecting. That means she actually has no right to be sending letters with threats of legal action right now; at least not until the USPTO awards her ownership over her prospective trademarks. So, from a strictly legal point of view, Swift is very clearly jumping the gun on threats of any sort of trademark infringement lawsuit. [2] That means that this great song by progressive-metal artist Peculate is not only awesome, but completely legal (at least for the time being):

Now the last point, and actually the most important of the three: Swift is actively alienating her fanbase and leaving a bitter taste in the mouths of (possibly former) fans. Swift is so focused on protecting her (as of yet un-granted) trademarks that she is biting the hands that feed her. Let’s see what some of the Etsy sellers/Swift fans have to say:

One Etsy owner/fan said:

When we got the email that the trademark infringement occurred [(which, by the way, it hasn’t yet)], we were shocked…We were scared. We didn’t even make enough money for a lawyer…That same day, we saw that Taylor was attempting to trademark a variety of phrases trying to get them blocked from being sold. After seeing that, we grew a little angry and felt targeted by her camp. It didn’t seem like much of a coincidence anymore.

Another wrote:

Obviously an artist has a right to their art and people should respect that. But at the same time most people, like us, are trying to be respectful and contribute to the excitement that the artists brings into our lives. When that is taken away, it leaves us with a bitter taste in our mouths. It feels as though we don’t matter [to her.]

Swift’s actions will cost her very much in the long run, I believe. While it’s true that Swift is entitled to a share of any money made through sale of products that reference her material, I wonder if alienating her fans could possibly be worth the $1.60 she might receive in a one-time royalty. One commenter on the Buzzfeed article pointed out the reality that there is a ton of fan-made Harry Potter stuff floating around out there for sale, but J.K. Rowling doesn’t go around sending cease-and-desist letters to all those sellers.

Ironically, so many times in the music business, artists encourage fan art and expression; it helps them to build their brand and following. In fact, I see daily posts on my Twitter feed by the artists of fans’ work that they love. I’ve seen drawings of band members, bracelets and jewelry with the band name, and shirts with artists’ logos and lyrics all submitted by fans to the artists as away of showing their support. And so many times I find the artists so grateful for the allegiance and passion that they repost the pictures and encourage other fans to send in pictures. This is how you build a bridge to your fans.

In the music industry, it’s all about reputation: reputation amongst peers and reputation amongst fans. Few other things matter as much as those realities because those are the two realities that one can count on, particularly when things get tough. It can be a hard market, but if you’re an artist with a great reputation amongst peers, other artists will continue to want to play shows with you, vouch for you, encourage their fans to go see you. And your own fans will take up your flag. But if your reputation sucks, frankly, you’re lessening your chances of having any of those things.

Maybe Taylor Swift doesn’t care—I can’t and won’t presume to know. Here’s what I do know: her reputation is taking a beating in the music trenches, even if her wallet isn’t. 1989 sold a ton of copies and that’s great, but selling album copies doesn’t automatically rehabilitate one’s image amongst one’s contemporaries. Ironic though it may seem, the way things are going, Swift’s own fans are going to be a major headache for her camp in the future. Many of them feel betrayed, targeted, taken for granted. And that’s rule number one in this industry: never ever take your fanbase for granted.

 

Thanks to Mom for reading drafts of this.

 

Notes

[1] My first article on Swiftgate can be found here, with the follow-up piece here.

[2] This means that the poem I wrote at the bottom of my post last week is completely legal. (Though one could also argue quite successfully that it would be anyway whether Swift has been granted the rights or not since it falls under a creative parody license).

If You Have a “Party Like It’s 1989” Tattoo, You’re Screwed

Between yesterday and today, CNN, BBC, Rolling Stone, and Time all reported that Taylor Swift has trademarked a few phrases from her most recent album, 2014’s 1989. While I can certainly understand copyrighting a song, I find Swift’s actions today just a little over-zealous (okay, that’s a lie; they’re very over-zealous).

First, let’s draw a very clear distinction between copyrighting and trademarking. Copyrighting is something that most, if not all, creative artists do to protect their creative works (including songs, books, movies, etc.) against plagiarism and unsanctioned reproductions. Copyrighting is very normal, and no one gives it a second thought. Trademarking, on the other hand, is not the same as copyrighting. Trademarking means that one cannot produce any physical products with the trademarked material on them. For example, Apple’s logo is a registered trademark, and therefore can only be reproduced on merchandise like shirts or stickers with the explicit permission of the Apple corporation. Trademarking a logo or tagline makes a lot of sense in the business world. Trademarking random phrases (some as short as three words!) from a pop-music album does not.

While I can respect Swift for attempting to further her brand with what may appear as a savvy business move, I can’t understand how she intends to trademark certain phrases that are so general that I couldn’t believe any patent court could deliver ownership of them to her alone. Generic phrases like “this sick beat” and “party like it’s 1989” are among the pieces now off limits for production on a slew of products, including: aprons, napkin holders, walking sticks, and, indeed, “non-medicated” toiletries. Ironically, the lead single’s title, “shake it off,” is not on the list.

So here’s the takeaway: for anyone who turned 18 or 21 in 1989, no partying like it’s 1989—Taylor Swift now owns that year; that means no cute little party hats, no commemorative t-shirts, and no celebratory anniversary cakes with the banned phrase written in icing. Skaters and rockers, no scrawling “this sick beat” on your guitars and drumkits—Swift owns all sick beats that can be described as “sick” from now on. I really wonder just how problematic this is going to be for people who already have bits of these phrases tattooed on their bodies—do they have a certain time period during which they can have them removed without legal action…? Okay, if Swift gets “this sick beat” then I think it’s only fair I get to trademark “I like music.” In honor of this incredible piece of news today, I have composed a poem:

A Swiftly Flowing Love Ballad

I love a song’s rhythm and pulse

It’s become the only thing I want to know

This sick beat is such a treat

I hear it all up and down the street

It makes me think I’ll find my soul mate soon

I just hope it turns out to be you

And I feel lucky for just getting to listen

It’s just so nice to meet you, where you been

For all the time I was looking for new music

I could show you (some) incredible things

That’ll make you happy, and you’ll never lose it

And please don’t get upset if I get so riled up

‘Cause you know I think we’d never go out of style, bud

Let’s just walk together for a while

I’m sure we could do a couple miles

With your pop-star hand in mine

Here’s to a party like it’s 1989

No, Everyone in Management Is Not a Programmer

Just over a couple weeks ago on New Year’s Day, Techcrunch ran an article entitled “Everyone in Management Is a Programmer.”

Though I’m sure that the author, Adam Evans (co-founder and CTO of RelateIQ), had only the best intentions in trying to show programmers that any of them could cultivate the skills necessary to be effective managers, I think the way he’s attempting to go about illustrating his point is limiting when examined within the greater context of tech and business.

In targeting programmers and/or coders in the title of his article, Evans, whether he means to or not, excludes from his discussion those of us who might not have the technical abilities of programmers. While I agree with Evans’ attempt to encourage tech-savvy people to step out of their comfort zones and become successful managerial material, I disagree with his implied suggestion that one must have technical prowess to become a successful manager, and by extension, a founder, CEO, or any other executive within the tech field. The concept leaves out a whole slew of professionals within the tech space who do not consider themselves coders, but who still bring to the table skills that are just as important as programming knowledge.

I certainly understand Evans’ thought process and commend it: those who identify as programmers can certainly cultivate the skills to become effective managers and break out of their comfortable and familiar role as “the tech person.” But I think the ability to better oneself comes from drive and dedication derived from one’s inner character, not from the specific function which one performs at any particular time, whether it be coding or something else. While laudably encouraging programmers and coders to step outside of their comfort zone and become managers, Evans goes to the opposite extreme by suggesting that only programmers and coders can aspire to managerial positions.

It is teamwork that builds great companies. Great managers are those members of the team who lead others, who motivate the other team members and drive the enterprise forward. Yes, programmers and coders are important players on the team, but they are not the only players. Those involved in marketing, finance, public relations, design and layout, legal, and public speaking are also members of the team, and with the requisite leadership skills may realistically aspire to become great managers as well.

Perhaps one of the best recent examples of how the “coding persona” need not be the only one in a company’s top tiers is Ruben Harris’s article “Breaking Into Startups” which was posted a few days ago. The article received a lot of attention (and rightly so, in my opinion) as it describes Harris’s transition from a finance/banking background in Atlanta to a position at a tech startup in Silicon Valley. At this point, I’ve read Harris’s piece a few times already—it’s well-written and insightful, encouraging without becoming preachy. (Truly the mark of a great writer is when the reader of the piece feels as if the piece were written specifically for them). I think my personal most significant takeaway from the article is how Harris demonstrates that it was his desire and networking prowess (and the financial/marketing knowledge he knew he could bring to the table) that led to his successful introductions and subsequent job opportunities.

Evans’ thesis is flawed for a second reason; the belief that people can be programmed the same way as a computer code is flatly false. Concerning this thought process, firstly, no, they can’t—people are not computers precisely because they can be unpredictable and do not work within the same dynamics as a programmable machine and/or line of code. It is this unpredictability and ability for non-linear thinking that creates the very pool from which innovation and unique thoughts spring. To assume that this can be contained, measured, predicted, programmed—well it’s about as predictable as Ian Malcolm’s chaos theory-dinosaur point in Jurassic Park. [1]

Secondly, to attempt to “program” a person (whether that person is your customer, VC investor, employee, team member, etc.) does not reflect well on one as either a manager or a person. Rather than a productive quality, it more than likely comes across to other people as a need to resort to forms of manipulation in order to move one’s business ahead—not a realization I would want to have if I was an investor, employee, potential partner, etc.

Evans’ article takes a good step by encouraging programmers and coders to move into managerial positions. His appeal to coders I think carries with it a deep respect for those whose work he understands first-hand, and whom he seeks to benefit by sharing his own experience and knowledge. However, not everyone in management is a programmer, and people cannot be “programmed.” Successful managers—whether or not they are programmers—are those who find ways to motivate their peers (employees, teams, investors, customers, etc.) that come across as win-win situations, not as attempts at “programming” and predicting their actions in the future.

My respect to Evans for attempting to help his fellow programmers move out from their comfortable places behind the keyboard to take more active, managerial roles in their companies. I think his intentions will serve his team and company well. But I caution against alienating those who are not coders. Rule number one of any business: never seek to speak to one portion of your customers at the expense of alienating another. Those of us who are not coders are still here, and we are still integral in the equation. We build the same kinds of companies and assume the same levels of leadership; we just do it differently.

 

Thanks to Dad for reading early drafts of this essay.

 

Notes:

[1] Dr. Ian Malcolm, the mathematician character in Michael Crichton’s novel Jurassic Park (1990), was a characteristic cynic, though no more so than when he scoffed at the idea that the park’s creator, John Hammond, thought he would be able to “control” nature. Malcolm demonstrated his cynicism mathematically through explanations of fractal design and chaos theory as they pertained to nature and the growth of life.