I've been having more coffee meetings over the last few weeks. And one of the things they are doing -- besides making me jittery -- is reminding me that at least two things happen during bear markets:
Conviction gets tested.
People get really creative.
Let's start with number one. It's easy to have conviction in something when it's obviously working and lots of other people are doing it. But what about when that is no longer the case?
Take the example of Amazon. In this 2018 post by Fred Wilson, he reminds us that at the peak of the internet bubble in 1999, Amazing was trading at around $90 per share. Two years later it was somewhere around $6 per share. And it was not until 2007 that Amazon would start trading above its peak again.
In hindsight, holding on was very obviously the right thing to do. But to do that from 1999 to 2007, you would have needed patience. And to have patience, you would have needed a high degree of conviction in Amazon as a company and in the internet as the harbinger of an important societal shift. That wouldn't have been easy -- just like many things today are not easy.
At the same time, bear markets force people to get really creative -- we're now onto thing number two. In this case, it's not a question of patience. It's, "the thing I was doing before no longer works and I don't know if/when it will work again, so I'm going to get creative and try something new." Bear markets give you this wonderful opportunity because the opportunity cost of
I've been having more coffee meetings over the last few weeks. And one of the things they are doing -- besides making me jittery -- is reminding me that at least two things happen during bear markets:
Conviction gets tested.
People get really creative.
Let's start with number one. It's easy to have conviction in something when it's obviously working and lots of other people are doing it. But what about when that is no longer the case?
Take the example of Amazon. In this 2018 post by Fred Wilson, he reminds us that at the peak of the internet bubble in 1999, Amazing was trading at around $90 per share. Two years later it was somewhere around $6 per share. And it was not until 2007 that Amazon would start trading above its peak again.
In hindsight, holding on was very obviously the right thing to do. But to do that from 1999 to 2007, you would have needed patience. And to have patience, you would have needed a high degree of conviction in Amazon as a company and in the internet as the harbinger of an important societal shift. That wouldn't have been easy -- just like many things today are not easy.
At the same time, bear markets force people to get really creative -- we're now onto thing number two. In this case, it's not a question of patience. It's, "the thing I was doing before no longer works and I don't know if/when it will work again, so I'm going to get creative and try something new." Bear markets give you this wonderful opportunity because the opportunity cost of
not
doing the status quo disappears (or greatly reduces).
On some level, though, these are two contradictory things: are we sticking to our guns or are we trying something new? But in my mind, you want both. This is not about saying, "lots of people used to want to buy cryptocurrencies and condominiums, but now a lot of people don't, so I'm going to move onto the next hot thing." It's something more calculated than this.
To return to Amazon, I think it's akin to Jeff Bezos' old mantra that you want to be stubborn on vision, but flexible on the details. Right now, lots of people are being forced to be flexible. But the vision part is what you still need conviction around. Otherwise, how will you get to where you want to go?
doing the status quo disappears (or greatly reduces).
On some level, though, these are two contradictory things: are we sticking to our guns or are we trying something new? But in my mind, you want both. This is not about saying, "lots of people used to want to buy cryptocurrencies and condominiums, but now a lot of people don't, so I'm going to move onto the next hot thing." It's something more calculated than this.
To return to Amazon, I think it's akin to Jeff Bezos' old mantra that you want to be stubborn on vision, but flexible on the details. Right now, lots of people are being forced to be flexible. But the vision part is what you still need conviction around. Otherwise, how will you get to where you want to go?
That could be writing a blog post, recording a podcast, coding an app, designing a building, making something tangible, or whatever. It is the act of creating something. And it’s one of the reasons I love what I do. At the end of the day, I have had a hand in (hopefully) creating something awesome that didn’t exist before.
I don’t think everyone feels this way but, for me, when I don’t block time to “make things” I can sometimes feel antsy. I need time to do creative things. It makes me feel like I’m being productive. It makes me feel like I’m producing output, as opposed to just sitting in meetings and making sure everything is on track. Maybe that’s the architect in me.
Paul Graham describes these two mindsets as that of a manager and that of a maker. And in a great essay published in 2009, he talks about how different these two people’s schedules can be. Below is a longish excerpt that I think you’ll find valuable for life and business.
“There are two types of schedule, which I’ll call the manager’s schedule and the maker’s schedule. The manager’s schedule is for bosses. It’s embodied in the traditional appointment book, with each day cut into one hour intervals. You can block off several hours for a single task if you need to, but by default you change what you’re doing every hour.
When you use time that way, it’s merely a practical problem to meet with someone. Find an open slot in your schedule, book them, and you’re done.
Most powerful people are on the manager’s schedule. It’s the schedule of command. But there’s another way of using time that’s common among people who make things, like programmers and writers. They generally prefer to use time in units of half a day at least. You can’t write or program well in units of an hour. That’s barely enough time to get started.
When you’re operating on the maker’s schedule, meetings are a disaster. A single meeting can blow a whole afternoon, by breaking it into two pieces each too small to do anything hard in. Plus you have to remember to go to the meeting. That’s no problem for someone on the manager’s schedule. There’s always something coming on the next hour; the only question is what. But when someone on the maker’s schedule has a meeting, they have to think about it.
I find one meeting can sometimes affect a whole day. A meeting commonly blows at least half a day, by breaking up a morning or afternoon. But in addition there’s sometimes a cascading effect. If I know the afternoon is going to be broken up, I’m slightly less likely to start something ambitious in the morning. I know this may sound oversensitive, but if you’re a maker, think of your own case. Don’t your spirits rise at the thought of having an entire day free to work, with no appointments at all? Well, that means your spirits are correspondingly depressed when you don’t. And ambitious projects are by definition close to the limits of your capacity. A small decrease in morale is enough to kill them off.”
This really resonates with me. It’s a great reminder, regardless of which schedule you’re currently on. Because even if you’re firmly ensconced in one of the two camps, chances are you work with people in the other one. And understanding where they’re coming from is important.
Paul then goes on to talk about speculative business meetings in his essay. These are the “let’s grab coffee” meetings. They’re costly if you’re on the maker’s schedule, but they’re expected if you’re on the manager’s schedule. I have learned to cap these throughout the week. They can easily overwhelm a calendar.
The big takeaway for me after reading Paul’s essay is that – if you make things – you have to be draconian about blocking time for that. I completely agree that even one meeting can derail an ambitious make session. So I am going to work harder at doing just that.
Would you consider yourself to be a manager, maker, or both? I aspire to be both.
I am a big believer in making things.
That could be writing a blog post, recording a podcast, coding an app, designing a building, making something tangible, or whatever. It is the act of creating something. And it’s one of the reasons I love what I do. At the end of the day, I have had a hand in (hopefully) creating something awesome that didn’t exist before.
I don’t think everyone feels this way but, for me, when I don’t block time to “make things” I can sometimes feel antsy. I need time to do creative things. It makes me feel like I’m being productive. It makes me feel like I’m producing output, as opposed to just sitting in meetings and making sure everything is on track. Maybe that’s the architect in me.
Paul Graham describes these two mindsets as that of a manager and that of a maker. And in a great essay published in 2009, he talks about how different these two people’s schedules can be. Below is a longish excerpt that I think you’ll find valuable for life and business.
“There are two types of schedule, which I’ll call the manager’s schedule and the maker’s schedule. The manager’s schedule is for bosses. It’s embodied in the traditional appointment book, with each day cut into one hour intervals. You can block off several hours for a single task if you need to, but by default you change what you’re doing every hour.
When you use time that way, it’s merely a practical problem to meet with someone. Find an open slot in your schedule, book them, and you’re done.
Most powerful people are on the manager’s schedule. It’s the schedule of command. But there’s another way of using time that’s common among people who make things, like programmers and writers. They generally prefer to use time in units of half a day at least. You can’t write or program well in units of an hour. That’s barely enough time to get started.
When you’re operating on the maker’s schedule, meetings are a disaster. A single meeting can blow a whole afternoon, by breaking it into two pieces each too small to do anything hard in. Plus you have to remember to go to the meeting. That’s no problem for someone on the manager’s schedule. There’s always something coming on the next hour; the only question is what. But when someone on the maker’s schedule has a meeting, they have to think about it.
I find one meeting can sometimes affect a whole day. A meeting commonly blows at least half a day, by breaking up a morning or afternoon. But in addition there’s sometimes a cascading effect. If I know the afternoon is going to be broken up, I’m slightly less likely to start something ambitious in the morning. I know this may sound oversensitive, but if you’re a maker, think of your own case. Don’t your spirits rise at the thought of having an entire day free to work, with no appointments at all? Well, that means your spirits are correspondingly depressed when you don’t. And ambitious projects are by definition close to the limits of your capacity. A small decrease in morale is enough to kill them off.”
This really resonates with me. It’s a great reminder, regardless of which schedule you’re currently on. Because even if you’re firmly ensconced in one of the two camps, chances are you work with people in the other one. And understanding where they’re coming from is important.
Paul then goes on to talk about speculative business meetings in his essay. These are the “let’s grab coffee” meetings. They’re costly if you’re on the maker’s schedule, but they’re expected if you’re on the manager’s schedule. I have learned to cap these throughout the week. They can easily overwhelm a calendar.
The big takeaway for me after reading Paul’s essay is that – if you make things – you have to be draconian about blocking time for that. I completely agree that even one meeting can derail an ambitious make session. So I am going to work harder at doing just that.
Would you consider yourself to be a manager, maker, or both? I aspire to be both.
