Daily insights for city builders, delivered every morning at 6 AM ET. I’m Brandon Donnelly — a Toronto-based real estate developer and founder of Globizen. I’ve been writing here since 2013.
After I landed in Vancouver yesterday, I opened up my inbox and found a cease and desist letter on behalf of the Ontario Association of Architects. The OAA had an issue with me using the following text description on my blog: “I’m an architect-trained and tech-obsessed real estate developer based in Toronto.” More specifically, they had a problem with “architect-trained.” They were of the opinion that I was “holding myself out as an architect.”
When I wrote that text description many years ago, I was actually trying to be sensitive to the fact that, because I’m not licensed, I’m not allowed to refer to myself as an architect. I hold a professional master’s degree in architecture, but I do not hold a certificate of practice in Ontario. The text description I chose was actually meant to communicate that I’m a real estate developer who cares deeply about and sees the value in great design.
The OAA and their lawyers clearly read it differently. So I have removed the derivative “architect” language from this blog. Frankly, it’s not a big deal to me. And in the almost 6 years that I have been writing this blog, I don’t think anyone has ever reached out to me thinking that I was a practicing architect. To be clear: I am not an architect. In case any of you are curious, here is a copy of the letter that I received.
The frenetic run-up to Christmas has come to an end, and I’m looking forward to relaxing and taking it easy with family and friends. I hope that all of you are able to do the same, however you spend the holidays. This is the one time of the year when the email firehose completely shuts off and it’s a lot easier to do exactly that. I think that’s important for all of us.
This past year I found it particularly difficult to disconnect. And 2020 is on deck to be an even bigger year. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I am, however, going to take this time to slow down, read, write, travel, and likely drink a bunch of wine. As always, you’ll find me here on the blog every morning. Merry Christmas, everyone.
I thoroughly enjoy the way that Paul Graham reasons through arguments. There’s something hyper rational about it. And even if you happen to disagree with his position(s), you still end up appreciating the way he has taken you through his logic. I guess that’s what you get when you combine a computer scientist with someone who clearly likes to write.
His latest essay is about how to do great work. Conventional wisdom, he explains, has it that you really need two things: ability and determination. That’s how you win. And that’s how you create new things. But Paul makes the case for a third ingredient — one that is arguably even more telling than the first two. Here’s an excerpt:
If I had to put the recipe for genius into one sentence, that might be it: to have a disinterested obsession with something that matters.
Aren’t I forgetting about the other two ingredients? Less than you might think. An obsessive interest in a topic is both a proxy for ability and a substitute for determination. Unless you have sufficient mathematical aptitude, you won’t find series interesting. And when you’re obsessively interested in something, you don’t need as much determination: you don’t need to push yourself as hard when curiosity is pulling you.
He refers to this as his “Bus Ticket Theory of Genius,” because bus ticket collectors are an example, in his view, of a group with a “disinterested obsession.” They’re not collecting bus tickets for any particular reason, other than because of interest. And when you have this kind of obsession with things that (ultimately) matter, it can lead to important discoveries.
Think Darwin and his obsession with natural history.
But the other reason this topic resonates with me is because it makes the case for passion projects, side hustles, creative pursuits, and all other irresponsible things that seem to get harder to fit in the older we all get. I am believer in this. There’s tremendous value in indulging in the things that stoke our curiosity, even if they might seem to silly to others.
And so I will leave you all with this final thought/excerpt:
It might be at least as useful to ask yourself: if you could take a year off to work on something that probably wouldn’t be important but would be really interesting, what would it be?
Last week it was announced that brandondonnelly.com/ (which is what I use for this blog) had purchased Tumblr for around $3 million. This is, of course, after Yahoo had purchased it for $1.1 billion in 2013 and later wrote it down, having never figured out how to monetize it. Yahoo lost its shirt on the investment. I am sure you’ve probably seen some of the headlines and searing commentary online:
Who wins the award for destroying the most value, or making the illusion for creating value? Marissa Mayer & Union Square Ventures @usvpic.twitter.com/XwOyByKYSv
I used Tumblr every day for more than 5 years. I started this daily blog on it because I had already been using it to share and collect photos. At one point Tumblr had more active users than Instagram and Pinterest combined. But eventually it lost its way. Yahoo (and later Verizon by way of its acquisition of Yahoo in 2017) didn’t know what to do with it.
And so at the beginning of this year I said goodbye to Tumblr and switched this daily blog over to WordPress. A big part of that decision had to do with the fact that Tumblr was never really designed for long-form blogs like this one and its mobile support was even more appalling for this use case. It was impossible to write on an iPad. Switching was the right decision. I should have done it sooner.
But now Tumblr is owned by brandondonnelly.com/. At $3 million, it feels like they're almost starting again from scratch. Maybe they'll figure Tumblr out. Or maybe they won't.
Kawhi Leonard doesn’t say very much, but when he does, he tends to focus the discussion less on himself and more on the achievements of the Toronto Raptors as a whole. He has said many times before in interviews that he doesn’t aspire to be the best player on the team; he aspires to win championships. It’s not about him. It’s about the team. And it’s hard not to respect that kind of humility.
One the things that I try to be aware of in business and in life is how I use first-person singular pronouns (such as “I”) and first-person plural pronouns (such as “we”). The subtleties of language are important and there’s lots of research out there on this topic. Some have even tracked Jeff Bezos’ use of “I” and “we” in Amazon’s annual shareholder letters over time.
Harvard Business Review also argued a few years ago that “we” is the language of leadership because it tells you where someone is focusing their attention. Studies suggest that when people are self-aware or insecure they naturally tend to use more first-person singular pronouns — they turn inward. Conversely, using pronouns such as “we”, “us”, or “you” suggest an outward focus or a focus on other people’s thoughts, opinions, and contributions.
Of course, when you write a personal blog like this one, you naturally end up with a lot of “I.” But when I write about broader topics, such as city building or the housing market, I do try and shift the focus. These are our cities. These are our buildings, streets, and public spaces. We’re in this together. And I aspire to get even better at “we.”
This evening I was at my alma mater, the Rotman School, for a conversation between Roger Martin (the former dean of the school) and Canadian-Jamaican billionaire, Michael Lee-Chin. Michael is one of the most disciplined, consistent, and charismatic people I have never met. (The soothing Jamaican accent probably doesn’t hurt.)
One of his points this evening was about compounding. Not just compound interest, which is what many of you are probably thinking, but compounding in life. The thing about compounding is that the real benefits come later on. That’s why personal finance people will tell you that the key to financial freedom is to start saving and investing early on.
The problem with this is that, well, the real benefits come later on. And it can be frustrating when the rewards don’t seem to match the efforts. That’s why grit is so important and why some have suggested that it is a far better predictor of future success than things like IQ or a GPA score. There’s no substitute for hard work.
In the development business, projects tend to take a long time. We started working on Junction House back in 2016 and here we are now in 2019 planning for construction. So I thought this evening was a good reminder that there’s lots of value in long-term goals and that more of us (including companies) should be thinking along these lines.
This recent post by Sam Altman (of Y Combinator) on how to achieve outlier success was just passed around our office. And it’s so fucking good that I decided to regurgitate it here on the blog by listing all 13 of his thoughts along with some of his most salient points. All of the words below are his (not mine), but most of his words are missing. I wanted to make a more condensed version so that you could easily print out this post and affix it to your desk. I am about to do that. Thanks for a great post, Sam.
1. Compound yourself
I think the biggest competitive advantage in business—either for a company or for an individual’s career—is long-term thinking with a broad view of how different systems in the world are going to come together. One of the notable aspects of compound growth is that the furthest out years are the most important. In a world where almost no one takes a truly long-term view, the market richly rewards those who do.
2. Have almost too much self-belief
Self-belief is immensely powerful. The most successful people I know believe in themselves almost to the point of delusion. Cultivate this early. As you get more data points that your judgment is good and you can consistently deliver results, trust yourself more. If you don’t believe in yourself, it’s hard to let yourself have contrarian ideas about the future. But this is where most value gets created.
3. Learn to think independently
Entrepreneurship is very difficult to teach because original thinking is very difficult to teach. School is not set up to teach this—in fact, it generally rewards the opposite. So you have to cultivate it on your own.
4. Get good at “sales”
All great careers, to some degree, become sales jobs. You have to evangelize your plans to customers, prospective employees, the press, investors, etc. This requires an inspiring vision, strong communication skills, some degree of charisma, and evidence of execution ability.
Getting good at communication—particularly written communication—is an investment worth making. My best advice for communicating clearly is to first make sure your thinking is clear and then use plain, concise language.
5. Make it easy to take risks
It’s often easier to take risks early in your career; you don’t have much to lose, and you potentially have a lot to gain. Once you’ve gotten yourself to a point where you have your basic obligations covered you should try to make it easy to take risks. Look for small bets you can make where you lose 1x if you’re wrong but make 100x if it works. Then make a bigger bet in that direction.
6. Focus
Once you have figured out what to do, be unstoppable about getting your small handful of priorities accomplished quickly. I have yet to meet a slow-moving person who is very successful.
7. Work hard
I think people who pretend you can be super successful professionally without working most of the time (for some period of your life) are doing a disservice. In fact, work stamina seems to be one of the biggest predictors of long-term success.
8. Be bold
If you are making progress on an important problem, you will have a constant tailwind of people wanting to help you. Let yourself grow more ambitious, and don’t be afraid to work on what you really want to work on.
9. Be willful
People have an enormous capacity to make things happen. A combination of self-doubt, giving up too early, and not pushing hard enough prevents most people from ever reaching anywhere near their potential.
10. Be hard to compete with
Most people do whatever most people they hang out with do. This mimetic behavior is usually a mistake—if you’re doing the same thing everyone else is doing, you will not be hard to compete with.
11. Build a network
Great work requires teams. Developing a network of talented people to work with—sometimes closely, sometimes loosely—is an essential part of a great career. The size of the network of really talented people you know often becomes the limiter for what you can accomplish.
12. You get rich by owning things
The biggest economic misunderstanding of my childhood was that people got rich from high salaries. Though there are some exceptions—entertainers for example —almost no one in the history of the Forbes list has gotten there with a salary.
You get truly rich by owning things that increase rapidly in value.
13. Be internally driven
The most successful people I know are primarily internally driven; they do what they do to impress themselves and because they feel compelled to make something happen in the world. After you’ve made enough money to buy whatever you want and gotten enough social status that it stops being fun to get more, this is the only force I know of that will continue to drive you to higher levels of performance.
It is a beautiful snow day in Toronto today and so I thought we would switch gears a little.
If you don’t care about snowboarding (or skiing), you may want to ignore today’s post and check back tomorrow. But if you do care, then you are going to absolutely love this video by KORUA Shapes. There’s something so magical about pairing the right song with the right video. If you can’t see it below, click here.
I’ve been following KORUA for a number of years now. They make unique snowboard shapes with virtually zero graphics or ornamentation. The tops are white and the bottoms are red. Clean and simple. It’s all about the geometry of the boards and their performance. Their mission: “Simply for the sake of beauty and joy.”
I started my undergraduate degree as a computer science and physics student. But despite my love of technology (and physics, incidentally), I quickly realized that I didn’t want to end up as a software developer. I was interested in so many other things: art, design, business, real estate, entrepreneurship, cities, and so on. And at the time, I was struggling to remain focused on writing code.
So by the middle of my second year, I decided to drop every single one of my classes and construct my own program until I figured out what I truly wanted to major in. My course schedule ended up spanning everything from the urbanization of ancient cities to the philosophy of aesthetics. It was a pretty great program if you ask me. But others wondered what I was doing.
I did, however, already have leanings toward architecture. It felt like the perfect combination of art and science. And so while enrolled in my made up program, I started exploring the possibility of transferring schools and switching majors. Around this time I also started meeting with architects to try and learn more about the profession and see if this is something that I really wanted to pursue.
I’ll never forget this one lunch. The architect I met with — who will, of course, remain nameless — told me very clearly: “You should do anything besides architecture. If you like drawing become an animator. If you like design, do graphic design. Just don’t become an architect.” Naturally, I came out of that lunch and decided to spend the next seven years getting two degrees in architecture.
And even though I never became a licensed architect, and almost certainly never will, I would do it all over again given the option. I loved the journey and it is this circuitous journey that led me to where I am today, which is in a highly fulfilling career in real estate. I create new things and those things have the opportunity to improve people’s everyday lives. I’m grateful for that. But the path was anything but clear at the time.
I am telling all of you this story because I was reminded of it when I read this fantastic article by Charles Duhigg called, Wealthy, Successful and Miserable. It is the story of how Charles, a Harvard Business School graduate, discovered that — despite obtaining boatloads of financial success — many of his classmates actually ended up miserable after school.
Sure, we all need and deserve basic financial security. And when we don’t have it, money can really buy a great deal of happiness. But there’s lots of research out there, some of which I have written about before, that suggests that happiness quickly plateaus once our basic needs are met.
As soon as we’re no longer worried about money, we actually crave other things from our paychecks. We want it to also be a source of purpose and meaning. To give one concrete example, the article cites a study about a set of enthusiastic and high performing janitors in a large hospital. What was ultimately found was that they saw their jobs not just as cleaning, but as a kind of healing for the patients. They had purpose.
But what I found most interesting about the article was the discovery that finding happiness in life and business might require, or be aided by, a bit of struggle along the way:
And many of them had something in common: They tended to be the also-rans of the class, the ones who failed to get the jobs they wanted when they graduated. They had been passed over by McKinsey & Company and Google, Goldman Sachs and Apple, the big venture-capital firms and prestigious investment houses. Instead, they were forced to scramble for work — and thus to grapple, earlier in their careers, with the trade-offs that life inevitably demands. These late bloomers seemed to have learned the lessons about workplace meaning preached by people like Barry Schwartz. It wasn’t that their workplaces were enlightened or (as far as I could tell) that H.B.S. had taught them anything special. Rather, they had learned from their own setbacks. And often they wound up richer, more powerful and more content than everyone else.
We are, of course, talking about the “also-rans” at Harvard Business School. They’re no slouches struggling to find work. But I don’t think that negates the point being made here. It can be easy to get caught up doing what we think we ought to be doing when in reality we should be finding meaning in something we hopefully love doing.
