I recently had the privilege of advising a very smart 21-year-old graduating from a prestigious college. He has computer skills, finance skills and what appeared to me to be unlimited options. New York hedge funds beckoned.
I offered some thoughts, none of them earth-shaking. You know the drill, optionality, lifestyle, where would you like to be in five years (the chance of actually ending up where you think is about the same as winning the lottery), having a family, making money and so forth.
What fascinated me was that having all the roads open to him (and it could as easily have been a woman) actually created anxiety. He felt each decision built upon the previous one, and if you get one wrong, then it compounds and before you know it, you are living in a homeless shelter in Buffalo, N.Y.
We all know that is not true. But my experience with young people is that though they know very few decisions are fatal, they are obsessed with getting each and every one of them right.
(Note here: You cannot know if life decisions are right until time es. No instant . It is not a simple assessment, like the chicken Parm was really dry, next time I am ordering the halibut.)
I told him that he could probably have three or four different careers in the next 35 years. That scared him more than comforted him. Many of us want certainty and limited disruption to the routine. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. But what if it needs to be broken?
I turn to Nicholas Kristof, New York Times columnist, who wrote recently about the value of the “gap year” or study abroad. In other words, deliberately leave your comfort zone.
Part of any entrepreneurial adventure is going to places that are unknown. It is the tribal rite of youth to set out for Europe (or places unknown) with a backpack and no reservations at the Four Seasons, no itinerary, no set route.
Kristof has some advice in this regard. At a minimum, “carry your port, credit card and cash in a pouch that loops on your belt and is tucked inside your pants.”
Come on Nick, you would think that by now, bandits, thieves and terrorists must have read about this trick — advanced by my parents in 1962 when I set out to bicycle through England and Scotland.
In the end, I challenged the young graduate to really think about how quickly things change. Consider the past 60 days in American politics. It is this aspect of our world that you can’t see what is coming (easy to be a futurist if you only have to be right 30 percent of the time) that is both frightening and exhilarating. Consider artificial intelligence.
Four years ago I started a deep-data mining company. It was pick and shovel hard. Today, all you have to do is ask Perplexity.
Then consider an investment that could never go wrong — owning a New York City office building. Then consider COVID-19. There is no certainty, and that is the one message I had for my friend.
I would argue that this fluidity is exactly what is fueling the attitudes and concerns of Gen X, Y and Z. We boomers were lucky. Change was glacial by comparison so we could make plans.
Today, however, the fact that the rate of change is now exponential cubed is exactly what gives everyone “a shot.” Pop- up restaurant, two years later, Michelin star. Minding your own business, one viral video, and you have an agent and a movie deal. Solve a simple problem (they are never simple), the world beats a path to your doorstep.
No guarantees. In some sense, the democratization of opportunity is both a boon and a curse. My college friend is gifted and privileged, but he can hear the footsteps of the hard-scrabble immigrant, the hungrier entrepreneur who has him in his sights. (As Satchel Paige said — “Don’t look back. Something might be gaining on you.”)
That “competitive advantage” slide that every founder has in their pitch deck needs an asterisk: “As of today, until someone else comes along and eats our lunch.”
Rule No. 821: “Be afraid. Be very afraid.” — The Fly
Senturia is a serial entrepreneur who invests in startups. Please email ideas to [email protected].
