#29 Paddle To New Zealand!?

The hardest part of this transition over the last few weeks has been winding down the 4–5 consulting relationships Publera makes time for each year, while setting up our content team to run without me.

Thankfully, most of our content work hasn’t needed me for a while.

On the consulting side, I’ve been humbled by the grace and character of my clients. I’d describe these conversations as some combo of terminating an employee and breaking up with a dear love.

So…it’s kind of like writing severance checks with a Taylor Swift playlist?

Now, you’re probably wondering the question we comms people know that everyone asks about any new information: “What does this mean for me??”

First, this newsletter’s going to get shorter. Some of you will miss the long reads, and some of you just fist-pumped. Either way, there’s 3 reasons:

1. Focus. I started this newsletter 5 years into Publera. After weathering a few generational shifts in tech and the economy, I have a pretty good framework for how I spend my time. It’s measured daily, weekly, and monthly in a pie chart (I’ll share it in a future issue).

But when your pie slices change, your philosophy should not. Focus is only a function of intention.

2. In one view, consulting has been the “cashflow” of Publera, funding our investments on the agency side. (We only do content work for companies we have a +20% stake in). In this sense, Publera is a portfolio powered by my sleep-resistant old comms brain.

Now, that hoodie-insulated gray matter belongs to someone else, and (if we’re doing it right) is a competitive advantage. Coaches share secrets. Players play to win.

3. In another view, consulting has been the “R&D” of Publera. Working with a diverse client base gives me access to diverse problems. Wild ones, tragic ones, groundbreaking, exciting, and sometimes just... weird.

That exposure has been priceless. It powers my recommendations, helps me see patterns in the problems that face all C-somethings, and makes a few good stories for this newsletter.

While it’s very easy to anonymize a diverse client base of problems, there starts to be an attribution issue as a c-something of one. So, I’m sorry in advance as my thinking will be less about what’s on my desk in real time.

What’s next?

Say something will change slightly in structure per the above. The Publera team will also be making less-clunky versions of some of the tools I use that I think make you smarter than your boss—or at least a bit faster. I’ll only share those with you all, along with anything else that makes the cut.

Also, I’m closing subscriptions to Say Something. Probably next week. I might reopen it for a short window someday, but for now, I prefer having an audience I like more than I like having an audience.

More real details next week. I’m very excited.

One of Publera’s portfolio investments is a small company called BetterWave, founded by my friend, former client, and world champion surfer, the hilarious and wise Bianca Valenti. (BetterWave’s mission is to redefine the compensation model for professional outdoor athletes.)

I could write for years about Bianca. Technically, I have!

What makes her so fascinating to me—and to a lot of business and finance leaders—is this. For Bianca, chaos is not an obstacle. It’s a medium.

In fact, chaos is THE medium. It’s as central to her work as a tennis court is to Nadal, or this keyboard is to me.

I’m not a surfer myself. (I did climb rocks professionally as a young toothpick.) So most of what I know about surfing comes from Bianca, or from watching Point Break a lot in high school.

Which makes this the second time a ’90s Keanu movie is referenced in Say Something. Cheers.

The only part of Point Break you really need to remember is how obsessed Patrick Swayze’s character is with the 100-year swell.

I mentioned this a little in last week’s issue about unsung hero Mike Homer, but I genuinely believe tech is in a 100-year swell moment.

The speed and scope of AI advances could make this era even more transformative than the birth of the internet.

Think about this: 4 years from now, all of our current stress—national and geopolitics, the global economy—might just be footnotes to the changes AI brings.

That’s... kind of terrifying. You could even say it’s chaos.

It’s chaos like the biggest, coldest, deathiest swell to ever to break at Mavericks. So, what would Bianca do?

Bianca paddles out.

We can too, but we don’t actually have to. What we DO NEED TO DO for the next few years is shift our mindset to Bianca’s:

Chaos is not an obstacle, it’s a medium.

Bianca has a mantra in her coaching that I repeat to myself in all kinds of situations—whether I’m clearing the driveway for Emily in -30° snow, firing an employee, or watching my 401K swerve like a roller coaster missing half its bolts.

She says: “All conditions are good conditions.”

So remember: chaos is our tennis court right now, like it or not. I say tie your shoes and enjoy some tennis.

Finally, one last thought on all of this.

When thinking about how to engage with the current AI revolution, I do have one option that I didn’t have back when I joined a teensy Facebook or helped Dropbox prepare to IPO: 

I could just invest in it.

It would certainly be easier to do that. I’m old now. I carry toddlers—my spine is more of an idea these days, and the X-rays would probably just show crumbs in there.

But I really enjoy these quirks of growing up. One of them is this: every time you think you are too old for something, just write it down and wait ten years.

You’ll have a very big laugh when you read it a decade later.

And investing is just as great as aging—I love it. You get to be part of more important things. Big things. But I think we should all occasionally remind ourselves:

To invest is to put your name on a stadium. Or a sign somewhere inside it. Meanwhile, the game is on the field. Which is also where it’s fought and won.

So I’m curious. What’s your field right now? What’s your swell?

If you feel like telling me, just reply to this. I’d love to hear it. And whatever it is, I am certain of one thing:

The conditions could not possibly be better for you,
Jesse

PS: LINKZ! 

• More vintage Keanu. You can’t help but laugh at this screenwriting.

• As promised, an absolutely wild article on the risk of solar weather, especially in an era of tension with China.

• This was going around the bullshit-o-sphere a few weeks back, and I didn’t think much of it at first. Except now I find myself quoting it to others and sharing it with you. So I’d say it’s 60% a good read. I think George Mack needs a better editor.

• I recently got to have a random meeting with Adam Kunes, an early writer at The Hustle, and smart chill C-something with a few exits behind him. His “fun project” (kind of like I’ve been doing with this newsletter) is called Dad Day, and I recommend it. I don’t read a lot of dad content, but that’s because it usually sucks. I think Adam is the caliber of writer, thinker, and letter operator who could change that.

• My first Keanu newsletter got a lot of shares and positive feedback. I promise this is the last. I think.

• SONG OF THE WEEK. Sunday was the 10th anniversary of my first date with Emily. This obnoxious tune was top of the charts back then, and ironically, Publera passed on the chance to buy a large share of the royalties on it about a year ago. It’s a bummer we did—because I could have made like thirty-five cents if enough of y’all click this to listen. 

PSSSSSSS:  Share link. Share this one with anyone you want in this newsletter before I close the signup next week. (And if we pass a thousand subs, which we won’t, I’ll let the extras in before we close.)