Founder Fridays occasionally involve lessons learned in boardrooms. This week’s involved a rake, a headlamp, and the temporary loss of my dignity. The frog pictured here was not involved IN the incident - he is merely a witness TO the incident - and has retained counsel.

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At approximately 5:30 one morning this week, whilst wearing a headlamp and carrying my favorite four-tined cultivator, I accidentally inserted myself into an in-progress ant evacuation.

You read that right - ants.

This went about as well as you might imagine.

One of the most useful sentences I've learned to say as a founder is: “I don't know yet”.

A long time ago, in what seems like a galaxy far, far away, I was trained never to say "I don't know" and instead to assemble some educated-sounding collection of words arranged strategically to tap dance around the fact that I don't know, but will figure it out. Saying that you didn't know something was seen as some kind of confidence-destroyer...almost a sign of weakness and incompetence. 

So we "circle back" or "take it offline" or "follow up later" as code for "you asked me something I don't know; give me time to put together a response".

How much time would we all save and genuine trust would we cultivate if we were straightforward with one another? 

Other than being roughly the same age and looking fabulous in green, what do Fernando Alonso and I have in common?

We both had rookie seasons around the turn of the millennium.

Now of course mine wasn't on the Formula 1 grid, but it was somewhere else where high pressure situations and split second decisions make or break you - emergency services.

One of the strangest things I’ve noticed about building my company from scratch is how much business advice is written backwards.

We hear the story after the company succeeded, so in hindsight everything acquires this tidy little narrative arc in which the pivotal meeting becomes obvious or rejection becomes this great moment of character development for the hero of the story. A change in direction becomes a strategic realignment. The person who answered the email or picked up the phone becomes “the one who changed everything”.

Today marks 50 years since Niki Lauda's crash at the Nurburgring.

Most people - myself included - probably think first of the accident, but today, Mr. Lauda’s account chose to post a meaningful tribute to something else: the drivers and marshals who ran toward danger instead of away from it.

https://lnkd.in/eaWNgmrG

The helpers. The ones who rushed in when it really mattered.