Dave Lerner

This is part of my ongoing Series on Entrepreneurial Culture.

In the tech world, we hear the term “warm introductions” bandied about ad nauseum, often from the horse’s mouth—namely, that it’s the best and sometimes the only way for entrepreneurs to meet angel investors and venture capitalists. A so-called warm introduction occurs when person A introduces person B to person C with an express endorsement of person B. Person A is basically telling person C that they are vouching for the character and worthiness of person B.

That’s the explicit message, of course. The implicit message is quite powerful as well and can best be expressed by what types of behavior just won’t suffice when it comes to introducing yourself. The short list includes some or all of the following admonitions:

Continue reading here for the original post on Amex OPEN Forum.

This is part of my Venture Studio Series where you can find tons of interviews with entrepreneurs and investors.

Cyrus Massoumi and ZocDoc have raised $95M since that fateful day when he had a burst eardrum and couldn't find a doctor to see him right away!

Enjoy his story and insights.

This is part of my ongoing Series on Entrepreneurial Culture.

In my last post on OPEN Forum, I made the case that entrepreneurs should stop actively looking for a co-founder. Now I’m here to tell you that if you think you have in fact found the right partner, you should be extremely careful and not rush into any arrangements.

Although it’s shocking, the fact is, a huge percentage of the companies I come across in my various roles as an entrepreneurship professor, mentor, and investor are doomed to fail essentially before they ever get started, due to founder incompatibility.

The reasons for these breakups that are given in retrospect by the founders are some variation of the following.....

Continue reading here for the original post on Amex OPEN Forum.

I recently wrote this article for Amex Open Forum. The original text can be found here.

This is part of my Series on Entrepreneurial Culture

Everywhere I go, I hear the same refrain from fledgling entrepreneurs I meet: “I’m looking for a co-founder.” I hear it from many of my students, from folks at various entrepreneurship events and meetups, and from people suffering in jobs at large companies who would love to pull the trigger on their startup—if they only had that critical co-founder.

And here’s why they’re on a fool’s errand.

The most common type of co-founder that’s usually sought is, of course, the technical co-founder, someone who can make your latest Internet-enabled business idea come to life by coding it for you because you don’t have the skills to do so. But some people also tell me they just need a co-conspirator because there’s too much work to do and they’d get lonely without a co-founder. It’s a fair point—and one that Y Combinator’s Paul Graham discusses in this incredible post.

But I’m actually here today to tell you: stop looking for a co-founder. Stop asking people to help you find one, and stop talking and thinking this way. I say this not because it’s massively annoying and clichéd by now (which it is), but mainly because the very act of looking for a co-founder is already a sign that you are hopelessly unprepared for the coming venture—and going about things in a completely backwards way.

Think about it this way. Let’s say you had this dream about sailing around the world for a few years. How would you go about realizing this dream?

Would you immediately start looking for an experienced sea captain with whom you could team up? It certainly seems a logical choice on its face, right? And let’s say you miraculously found one such old sea-dog, replete with forearm anchor tattoo and corncob pipe, in your first few weeks of searching—how would that play out?

Well, he’d probably do all the sailing, right? (Mainly because you don’t know how to sail and have zero experience.) He’d probably have to plot the various legs of the journey, too, right? (Because on day one, he would tell you that your plan to take a 36-foot wooden sailboat across the Bay of Fundy in winter isn’t the best course of action.) He’d probably be the one standing at the wheel whenever you hit rough weather, right?

Hmm. I also bet you’d have to pay him something to actually participate in this venture as well, no?

Let’s say after six months he tells you he’s run out of his favorite pipe tobacco and bails on you while you’re docked at some far off port. What do you do now? You probably should have stayed home and read some Melville or Joseph Conrad. Let’s face it—real sailing was never for you.

But hang on. Let’s say you had said this dream of yours was all-consuming and you were dead set on making it happen. Let’s say you just disappeared for a while and learned how to sail, became intimate with the latest technologies and the best routes, and became a fixture at your local sailing clubs and docks?

What likely would have happened with this approach? My guess is that you would have made great friends in the sailing community, over time. The relationships would have been genuine and based on mutual fascination and love of sailing, adventure, and the sea. You would have learned a ton about this new world and, slowly but surely, you would have become a part of it. When you finally decide to make that journey to Timbuktu, one of these friends—maybe someone with a lot more sailing experience than you, but who respected you a lot and knew your character and talents—might just suggest that you embark on that journey together.

Business is the same. Even though it’s just little old you steering your company, take comfort in the fact that we’re living in an era in which the individual entrepreneur is empowered with tools and access in a way that people could barely have imagined as recently as a decade ago. You want to open a store? In 10 minutes you can be up and running on Shopify. You want to amplify your voice with a marketing campaign? Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube are massive communities you can tap into for free. Don’t know how to build a website? Hop on Codecademy or take a Skillshare class and you’re on your way.

Even without a co-founder, you can acquire skills and employ powerful tools to get to a minimum viable product all by your lonesome. In fact, it’s so easy and accessible, there really is no excuse not to. Imagine how powerful this is. You can generate a massive amount of value before even thinking about having to dilute your equity. Ironically, this is actually the best way to find co-founders, early employees and investors—just get a real business up and running by yourself!

If and when the time comes to partner up, just know that great partners come in all shapes and sizes. You can’t predict and plan for their arrival, just like you could never decide to meet a potential spouse next Saturday night. So how will you know they’ll make a good co-founder once you meet? You won’t.

The key is not to rush into business with someone. Spend plenty of time with them, bring up difficult issues directly when appropriate, and see how they handle themselves in a variety of situations and circumstances. Are they thoughtful and considerate of your point of view? Do you share values with them? What are their other life relationships like? Like any journey, the key is slow and steady.

I wrote this last week in the aftermath of the terrible happenings in Boston and dedicate it to the great people of Boston who I came to know and love when I lived up there (after something of a rough start).

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Having grown up in Brooklyn in the 70's and 80's, I'm no stranger to rough and tumble environments. My brother Chuck and I have a lot of stories to tell and we've seen and been through a lot of scrapes together. For us the New York of today and frankly, any other city we lived in or visited always seemed like a cake-walk compared to the Brooklyn of our youth. We're not careless or cocky by any means- but we consider ourselves pretty street-smart to put it mildly.

While in college we had one incident, however, in Boston, that made us blink a bit. We had a rugby game against MIT and made the road trip from Williams across the Mass Pike. It was our first time in that city. On the way there everyone was joking that we were going up against some eggheads and PhDs. Boy were we wrong. The MIT side was stacked with the baddest, toughest grad students- a bunch of ringers from New Zealand, Australia and South Africa. They were all grown men and were miles ahead of us in talent (and on the scoreboard). Sure enough a (now legendary) brawl erupted that was only broken up by the police that drove onto the field with paddy wagons. We had brought 3 "sides" as is said in Rugby- meaning we had our A, B, and C teams there as did they. There must of been 60 combatants on the field at the height of it all. In the end we had multiple people go to the hospital with broken ribs, black eyes, stiches as did they. 

A few hours later we were all in their fraternity house singing songs around a bunch of kegs.

They were some tough mother-------.

Anyway, the years went by and those memories faded some. The feeling I'm sure I still had was that nothing could compare to our early days in Brooklyn.

That impression all changed for me, when years later I was running my first company and we decided to expand to Boston. It was a healthcare company and we were already in NY, NJ, Florida and now we were going north. I had my eyes opened again- real quick.

In my first few days there, a Boston trooper (known locally as a troopah), pulled me over. I was driving a Toyota Corolla that I had driven up straight from Florida and all my personal belongings were in boxes in the car. The Florida plates probably caught his eye. He was friggin' huge and took my license and registration and didn't even say hello. When he returned from his cruisah he bellowed this to me in thickest Boston accent you could imagine:

"Mr. Lernah.... yore a pedestrian"...

I didn't know what he meant and politely asked him what he meant. He then bellowed the following:

"Mr. Lernah, get the fuck out of youah cah right now- yore a PEDESTRIAN"....

I got the fuck out of my car real quick- now I understood. He then told me that my registration had "expiahed", gave me a ticket and returned to his squad car. Minutes later a tow truck pulled up and started to jack my vehicle as I furiously removed about 20 boxes full of all my wordly belongings onto the sidewalk. As they towed my vehicle to parts unknown- I walked up to the driver's side window of the officer's car and politely began to ask where I would be able to pick up the car at which point he drove away without saying a word. He had never removed his wrap-around sunglasses.

He was one tough mother------

A few nights later, I regret to say that I was involved in a very bad melee at a famous Boston establishment (name withheld for security reasons) wherein I broke my hand and lost a knuckle. I know multiple people were hospitalized. I am not proud of this- but there was really nothing I could have done different. The reason for the brawl? Interpretations of a rule around a game of darts some of you may know called Cricket.

They were some tough mother-------s.

Our facility up there was affiliated with Partners (MassGeneral, Brigham & Women's and Dana Farber Cancer Center). They were the ones who had asked us to open a center in Boston so we could help treat their patients. But when one of our doctors went on a local TV station to complain about how BlueCross BlueShield were not paying their bills, those administrators at MGH called me on the carpet and chewed me up one afternoon that I'll never forget. All the faux refinement they had exhibited during their courtship of us months before disappeared in a flash and they dressed me down with more F-bombs than I'd heard at the pubs. They told me they were going to be "all ovah youah asses" from then on and wouldn't hesitate to rip-up the "fucking agreement" we had. 

They were worried about BCBS because BCBS had called them and actually threatened to stop paying MGH!

BCBS and MassGeneral were some tough mother-------s.

Then there was the time Medicare stopped reimbursiung us, period. Stopped cold turkey. This is after the Medical Director of Medicare of the State had sent us a signed letter BEFORE we opened the facility in Massachusetts telling us that Medicare would reimburse us for our services to patients. He renegged.  We went at him hard. He didn't back down for the longest time.

He was tough mother------, but also was just an _______. (fill in the blank) :)

Oh and how about the war of the red tickets with the lovely metermaids of Boston? And that landlord that gouged the bejesus... ok, ok, that's enough!

A year or so went by. I dug-in. Winter lasted what seemed like 6 months up there. I walked to work along the Charles River and cursed my lot every morning. The wind just cut you into little pieces. Then a massive snowstorm hit in April I believe, I can't remember. I do remember barely being able to open the door to my basement apartment against the snown and thinking- "it's not worth going to the clinic- no one could possibly be there". But against my better judgment I trudged thought the tundra, finally arrived, unlocked the place and collapsed on a waiting room sofa, exhausted. After some minutes I heard someone calling my name. It was one of our oldest patients- she may have been 85 years old, white spindles of hair tucked back in a pony tail. I was blown away. She'd somehow come all the way up from a town way south of Boston- somewhere along the South Shore. I'll never forget the sight of her standing there in her little boots and heavy winter coat. She was so determined and earnest and wanted to get better. Nothing would get in her way.

Anyway- I couldn't imagine how she had made it to see us. Needless to say one of our team was able to come in and treat her. There was no way she was going home without being treated. I would have done anything for her.

She was one tough lady.

And then there was our office manager. God bless her- we're still in touch all these years later. Salt of the earth from Braintree- had been a patient of ours and then anchored that facility there in Boston for all the years we operated. Answered the phone, talked to everyone- knew their life stories, hosted-em when they came and went, stayed in touch with-em, did anything for 'em... just the best... never late, never sick, never down though she'd seen the roughest of times and had had some really tough luck through the years- just the best of the best- had your back through thick and thin.

She was one tough lady and I'd do anything for her or her family.

Yep, and that's sort of how it went. Four years up there.. got to know-em real well. Our patients, the therapists and docs, regular folks from all walks of life from Southie to Marblehead, the chess community, the Russian community and on and on... and over time- little by little, they took me in and we warmed to one another- with a little cussing and frowning, some punches thrown here and there, and finally some drinks and good times. When it was time for me to leave I didn't want to go. 

I had developed this feeling for the place, something for this toughness and character I was seeing all around me. Over time my initial resentment just melted away somehow into deep respect.... and dare I say it- even affection... that grudging affection you develop for an opponent in a fight who gives and takes no quarter....

And then this damn thing last week. Good G-d how they responded to it! They were all over it in seconds- I heard the Chief of Police talking about it in awed tones. Regular Boston folk were running towards the explosions to help, applying tourniquets with their shirts, their jackets- their bare hands in some cases for goodness sake... and they didn't stop there.... from the people in the streets to the guardsmen and soldiers there, to the bus drivers who stayed to drive runners to safety, to the docs and nurses in the hospitals to the police and the EMT's, to the people opening up their homes to strangers, to the people using their camera phones and twitter- all the way down the line everyone was helping, and of course all the cops on the front lines shooting it out with the two brothers toe-to-toe taking on hand-grenades and hundreds of rounds... and all the way up to that moment when a guy was out having a cigarette and spotted someone "covered in blood crouching low in his boat".

My heart goes out to everyone up there, especially to those who've lost loved-ones and have had loved-ones maimed for life. I am in awe of how Bostonians banded together, helped each other and endured this and how relentless they were in hunting down these killers in their midst. 

Boston- you are one tough mother-------, and you know I say that with great affection.

This is part of my ongoing series on Entrepreneurial Culture.

So what's this mythical pain point every startup needs to have that everyone's always referring to? The easy answer, (to quote Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart), is "you know it when you see it". Perhaps, but I think this concept might best be illustrated by the following short case-study of a company I backed called Updater. 

Let's begin with a few questions for you. Have you moved recently? What was that experience like? Take a few seconds to reflect on it. Are you frowning yet? I certainly am. Last year my family moved and, even though it was literally from one apartment to another *in the same building*, it was still massively disruptive and stressful- and I still haven't updated all the services, friends and companies in our lives with our correct new address. To compound this, whenever the regular mailman is away, most of our mail still goes to our old place. The previous tenant probably has thrown out more of our mail than he's handed over to the doorman. I know for certain he tossed my car registration- I have a few tickets to show for it. Painful indeed.

So let's take a very quick snapshot of the "moving" landscape:

- 40+ million people in the US move every year and have a change of address event
- The average person moves ~12X in their lifetime
- Moving is the third most stressful event in a person’s life, trumped only by death and divorce (according to a Employee Relocation Council survey)

I've moved many times in my life (as I am sure you have)- and everytime was a huge pain for multiple reasons. That's why when I first met the folks at Updater I already understood the profundity of the "pain in the market" deeply. I was delighted thus to learn that they could help with all of the following pain points:

This is part of my Series on Angel Investing and Venture Capital

This is part of my ongoing Series on Mentorship.

Yesterday was Thanksgiving and I was thinking about the many things for which I am thankful. I won't list them here as they are many. But my mind kept returning to memories of a great mentor of mine who passed away earlier this year and I was filled with both gratitude and profound sadness. The intervening months since his passing have really done nothing to ease my grief and I'm sure it's much the same with his family members as well as the legion of loyal friends he made during a truly remarkable life. 

Upon reflection I believe this is because he was a person with an enormous capacity for friendship along with an immense store of wisdom and life experience that he was always happy to draw upon for the benefit his friends. In our increasingly fast-paced and surface-oriented society, he struck many of us as a walking anachronism- always organizing gatherings of friends from the many remarkable chapters of his life and often presiding over celebrations or roasts or fireside conversations that typically lasted late into the night. He was a world-class raconteur, a master of roasts and toasts alike, as well as a formidable prankster and joke-teller. 

He had this great adventuresome spirit and was a complete original in every way. He loved the sea, was a great sailor, practiced maritime law and was involved with a number of other businesses over the years. Right after college he'd signed up with the Marines, ultimately leading his platoon onto the shores of Da Nang as part of the first official combat troop deployment in Vietnam in '65. He'd boxed in his day, acted here and there, traveled extensively and played his share of competitive rugby and squash.  Everyone who knew him had their own stories about him- the legendary cross-country trips he would take aboard his restored and un-airconditioned XK Jaguar 140, the raucous and debauched parties he'd thrown over the years, the elaborate and memorable roasts, pranks and toasts, the cigar nights replete with his decorative fez and on and on.

This is not the place to eulogize him, that has been eloquently done by friends more capable than myself. What I'd like to reflect upon here though, is what qualities made him such great mentor to me over the more than two decades I knew him: 

• First, I am struck by the fact that he took his role immensely seriously and prioritized it. 
• He always made time and when we met was never in a hurry. 
• In our discussions he always got to the core of the matter somehow by asking the right questions and listening carefully. 
• He never hesitated to directly challenge either me or my assumptions, no matter how difficult it might have been for me.
• When he gave advice he didn't mince words either- he wasn't afraid to give counsel and direction when he knew you needed it. 
• Similarly, he knew when you needed to figure things out for yourself. 
• He had no agenda other than to help you. 
• Enormous wisdom and understanding of human affairs & motivations.

When he learned he had Parkinsons he accepted it, and, like everything else in his life would face it head-on. He bore its ravages with great stoicism and his huge personality and indomitable spirit burned bright until the very end.

After his funeral yet another story floated back to me. It was from the companion of his later years, a lady-friend he had known since his youth. She'd told the story that a few weeks before he passed they were picnicking beside a river beneath a clear, unbroken summer's sky of the deepest azure, his favorite kind of day. Suddenly, after some time, she saw him somehow wriggle his Parkinsons-ravaged body into an innertube he'd brought along. In an instant he'd slid down a hill into the water and she watched in amazement as he then effortlessly navigated down the river- eventually beaching himself much further downstream. As she approached he flashed that immense smile he was known for and told her "these are the halcyon days of my life". 

This is part of my Series on Mentorship.

The last few days in NYC have been harrowing and humbling for everyone, but especially for those living in low-lying areas. Many have lost their homes, many have seen valuable possessions destroyed, and tragically for some of the unluckiest- Sandy took their lives and the lives of loved-ones.  The city will be digging-out of the carnage for months- there is widespread destruction to the whole infrastructure of this town. Once again New Yorkers' sense of security and well-being has been massively jarred.

One remarkable thing I think most everyone in the city has witnessed though was the quiet heroism of the nurses, doctors, firemen, police and others that literally kept the city from descending into total chaos and even more pronounced tragedy.

One particularly moving example for us all (pictured above from the Associated Press) was the specter of nurses manually breathing for babies being evacuated down nine flights of stairs from the neo-natal intensive care center when the back-up generators at NYU's Langone Hospital failed.  They literally pulled 20 of the most fragile and vulnerable human lives in this city from the abyss. And that was just one story among countless others that emerged over the last several days.

Once again, as was the case over a decade ago, it was the unheralded salt-of-the-earth folks whose grim heroics bore us up in some of the darkest hours New Yorkers have experienced. For these folks, it's just "what we do"- for the rest of us- we can only be awed and eternally grateful.

For the next post in this Mentorship Series, click here