Scott Porad

I am a golfer.

Yeah, yeah, yeah…you knock the ball around the course from time-to-time, but I’m not talking about that.

To say that you play golf is a completely different thing than saying you are a golfer.  Playing golf is an activity.  Like fishing or riding a bike.

Playing golf is something you do.  Being a golfer something totally different.

Golf is not like other sports.  In fact, I’m not sure if it’s really fair to call it a sport.  It’s more of an addiction.  Like other addictions, there’s a lot of reasons why you don’t want to get mixed up with golf.

First of all, golf is sort of self-inflicted torture.  On the surface, the task seems sooooo easy: just hit a stationary ball with a metal stick in the middle of a big open field of grass.  Yet that seemingly simple and easy task is invariably frustrating because more often than not it’s completely unfulfilling.

Don’t believe me?  Try it some time.  The ball never goes in the little hole at the other end of the field, but rather into the trees or the water or the sand.

Excruciating.

Then, like a masochist, a golfer will walk down the fairway and go through the entire ordeal again.  I do this with glee regularly, and I cannot think of anything more enjoyable.

And, if you think about it, it’s sort of like a startup.

From a distance, a startup seems fun and glamorous, but on the inside it’s really hard and painful.  The work is hard and stressful because it’s both unclear and uncertain with an added dash of “and you may run out of money next week” thrown in for good measure.

Lots of times I ask myself, “Why do I keep getting involved with these startups?  Why can’t I just be ordinary and get a job working at some big company, living in a cubicle farm and hapily punching in and out every day?”

Why?  Because I’m a golfer.

All these posts about using time more productively reminded me of a book I read about 6 years ago called Time Tactics of Very Successful People.

The fact that I ever even read the book is completely random—my wife and I were staying in Chicago with one of her aunts, and I picked it off the shelf one evening for some bedtime reading.  Despite my expectations, it didn’t put me to sleep…in fact, I really learned some good stuff!

One productive time tactic that stuck with me was ensuring that I start the day prepared.  I don’t remember all the details of what the book proposed, but here’s how I took what the author wrote and adapted it:

Everyday, before I stop working for the day, while my mind is still fresh with the things I’m working on, I write a note stating where I left off and listing the 3-5 things I need to work on tomorrow.

As a result, when I start working the next morning, I haven’t forgotten what I was doing, and don’t spend the first 30 minutes of the day getting my barrings straight.  Instead, I can jump right into the day and start getting stuff done.

Yesterday’s post on being more productive in the morning reminded me of Paul Graham’s essay regarding manager versus maker time.

Paul’s simple point is that “doing work” requires a different type of mindset and workflow than “managing other people doing work”.  Most programmers completely agree, so I encourage you to read his essay.

One of the points that complete resonates with me is:

…there’s [a] 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.

I couldn’t possibly agree with this more.  I feel like in order to be maximally productive, I have to have at least a 3-hour chunk of completely uninterrupted time.   And, sometimes that doesn’t even work…as Graham writes:

…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.

Yes!  Absolutely!

Rereading Graham’s essay is going to cause me to be more careful about scheduling meetings at Cheezburger.

Right now, we only have two types of meetings: an all-team meeting at Monday morning, and several daily standups for smaller project teams.  Typically, those meetings are all held in the morning, and I’m going to work to keep them that way…perhaps designating the afternoon as “maker time”.  Although, that is incongruent with the whole “morning people are more productive” idea, so maybe the key is to move the meetings earlier in the morning.

I’m not sure…what are your thoughts on this?

At about 10pm each night I catch a second wind which lasts until about 1am.  This is a blessing and a curse.  If there’s some work I want to get done, or if I want to stay up later to enjoy the evening, then it’s a blessing.  If I want to go to bed at 10:20pm it’s a curse.

With that in mind, some new research indicates that “morning people” have more success, generally, than night owls.

“[Morning people] tend to get better grades in school, which gets them into better colleges, which then leads to better job opportunities. Morning people also anticipate problems and try to minimize them. They’re proactive.” (Not that evening people are life’s losers: They’re smarter and more creative, and have a better sense of humor, other studies have shown.)

Notwithstanding my issues with a 10pm bedtime, I enjoy getting up early, especially in the summer.  In Seattle, the sun rises at about 4:45am (and sets at about 9:45pm).  By 6am, it’s typically full-on daytime and I can really get a lot out of the day.

Can you change whether or not you’re a morning person?  According to the researchers, “somewhat,” but it’s largely genetic.  Anecdotally, I would disagree.  I can sleep in, or I can get up early…let’s say I’m “ambidextrous”…but I can tell you that I’m definitely more productive when I start the day earlier.

Recently, Liz Strauss asked me via e-mail:

How do you delegate responsibility to inspire the best performance from people you work with?

and she asked the same question to a dozen other leaders and managers as well. The result was 7 tips for effectively delegating work.

In no particular order, they are:

1. Know the Outcome You Want
2. Work with and Trust the Right People
3. Set Clear Expectations
4. Let People Know Why You’re Counting on Their Performance
5. Be There After the Assignment
6. Value Great Performance
7. Remember to Delegate Even When You Don’t Want To

I’ve been thinking a lot about Google lately, or more specifically GOOG.  I would be interested in knowing your thoughts…leave them in the comments.

As I understand it, the hottest things in technology these days (besides lolcats) are mobile and social (and geo-location, but humor me and ignore that).

With respect to mobile, primarily the battle is between Apple’s iOS and Google’s Android.  I see a lot of analogy between Google and Apple at present with mobile operating systems, and Microsoft and Apple about 20 years ago with desktop operating systems.

In other words, Google is Microsoft with the more open operating system, and Apple is Apple (again) with the more closed system.  Even though AAPL is high-flying now, it’s pretty obvious that Microsoft won that war.

On the other hand, Google can’t seem to tell its knee from it’s elbow when it comes to social.  Apple doesn’t really have a dog in the social fight, but Google is being defeated by Facebook and Twitter (and, to some extent, Bing who seemingly has better relationships with each).  Adam Rifkin wrote a fun piece about Google and why they’re not optimized to succeed at social, haven’t succeeded at social, and won’t succeed at social.

So, in the question of GOOG, it all boils down to this: which is going to be more important for Google in the next 5-10 years—owning the leading social applications or owning the leading mobile operating system?

To me, it’s pretty clear that Google is placing it’s bet on the mobile OS.  Is that the right bet?

What happens if Google wins the mobile OS battle, but loses the social ground to Facebook et al.?  What about the opposite?  What if Google somehow, magically, wins social, but loses mobile?  (Obviously, winning both is good, and losing both is bad.)

I don’t know the answer to these questions, but find them very interesting.  What do you think?

Earlier this week, a group called the Seattle Collective organized a presentation with Dave McClure of Metrics for Pirates fame.  The slides from the presentation are below.

I’m a fan of Dave, and I’ve seen his presentations before, but I always am inspired or learn something new.  (Perhaps this is because Dave packs in the content—he covers 66 slides in the same amount of time ordinary mortals would cover only a dozen!)

How was I inspired this time?

I came away with a better understanding of the importance of measuring engagement and usage metrics such as activation, retention and frequency (on slides 13-15).  You can drive visits and convert shoppers into customers, but what’s the point they’re not using your product?  In other words, focus on usage and all the other pieces should fall nicely into place.

In addition, I was inspired by Dave’s idea for a “1-Page Business Model” (on slides 26 and 27).  The CEO of TeachStreet was in the audience and added that they’ve since refined their one-page model into a one-metric model, with a focus on leads between students and teachers of classes.

Now, that’s some serious knifepointing!

Food for thought from David Brooks:

The Internet-versus-books debate is conducted on the supposition that the medium is the message. But sometimes the medium is just the medium. What matters is the way people think about themselves while engaged in the two activities. A person who becomes a citizen of the literary world enters a hierarchical universe. There are classic works of literature at the top and beach reading at the bottom.

…

A citizen of the Internet has a very different experience. The Internet smashes hierarchy and is not marked by deference. Maybe it would be different if it had been invented in Victorian England, but Internet culture is set in contemporary America. Internet culture is egalitarian. The young are more accomplished than the old. The new media is supposedly savvier than the old media. The dominant activity is free-wheeling, disrespectful, antiauthority disputation.

Right now…the Internet culture may produce better conversationalists, but the literary culture still produces better students.

Yesterday I participated in “the shortest marketing conference ever”…The Influencer Project.  I was one of 60 people who discussed how to use social media to build relationships, develop influence and grow reputation.  You can register to receive a transcript and audio recording of the entire event.

The gist of my remarks were that the best way I’ve found to build influence online is to develop relationships offline.  In other words, solidify the relationships you’ve built online by making a “in real life” connection with those people.  Social media is excellent for building a broad network of friends and contacts.  But, in my view, real, genuine deep connections happen in real life.

Now, let me stop all the haters here: I’m not saying real relationships can’t be built online.  There are endless anecdotal stories of this happening, so I’m not going to assert that it’s impossible.  (Along these lines, Mark Pilgrim wrote recently on the notion of 25-year friends.)

I’m simply trying to make this point: if you want to increase your influence online, then the way to do it is offline.  Strong offline relationships will lead to even stronger ones online.

I was asked last week about a moment of grief I was experiencing.  I was asked:

Are you angry?  Is there part of you that’s pissed off and saying, “why me?”

No, absolutely not.  I can say that with unequivocal conviction.  In fact, it’s absolutely the opposite: I feel a deep sense of gratitude for of having been fortunate and lucky.

Grief is a truly bitter-sweet feeling.  I have hyphenated that word with intention.  Bitter-sweet is not it’s own thing; like the ying and the yang it’s composed of two.

Is all grief bitter-sweet?  I don’t know, but imagine so.  If the sweetness weren’t there in the first place, then I’m not sure we’d grieve at all.