The algorithm of being a good VC and the algorithm of being a good human and friend are basically the same thing. It took me two trips in one week (and 30 years!) to really feel it.
Last week I wrapped Collective Future – 250+ people, cross-sector, months of logistics. It’s our big conference. The next day I was off to the Bahamas with 10 guys I’ve known for 30+ years. Pickleball, too much food, bad jokes. Someone else did the 50 texts and hours of coordination.
I know, rough life 😉 but it initially seemed like one would be hard work, the other vacation. I expected them to feel completely different. One is a production. The other is just friends.
But they both filled my bucket and had an odd similarity.
When I sat and thought about it I think I understood why. Both were the product of decades of relationships. Real effort to convene. A genuine love of bringing people together – whether over a discussion about AI or a doubles match. The activation energy is always front-loaded. But once people are actually in the room together, something multiplies that you couldn’t have engineered.
I spend a lot of time thinking (and over optimizing;) the algorithm of VC. I think about the algorithm of life less than I should. Community is a massive input. What you put in compounds. The ROI is real even when it doesn’t show up in a spreadsheet. It’s the product of lots of good shared experiences, being available in good and bad times, and authenticity.
Some people build it professionally – the dinners, the offsites, the curated rooms. Others pour it into personal life – the travel, the beer nights, the random phone call just to check in. The best ones do both. And they know how to play both roles. Sometimes you’re the one doing the 50 texts. Sometimes you’re just the guy who said yes. Switching between them feels the most right and balanced.
And occasionally something better happens – the professional bleeds into personal or the other way around. Some of my work friends have become my best friends and vice versa.
I came home a little nostalgic, a little grateful and very exhausted. For the reminder that this stuff – the rooms, the relationships, the history – is what actually compounds. But you have to put in the relationship work … over years and decades.
