"Two roads diverge in a yellow wood..."
What you do is important and can define who you are and what you stand for, but what you don’t do is perhaps even more important.
When the norm is to do something a certain way, choosing not to do it becomes glaringly obvious. And often times, not doing something that everyone else does can be one of the best things that you can do.
When everyone is raising huge rounds and making headlines, the companies that succeed quietly like WhatsApp earn our respect. When the popular Silicon Valley motif is “college kid drops out to start an internet company,” the ones who don’t command our attention. When other websites are focused on increasing time spent on their sites, the search engine that decides to decrease it becomes the most viewed website in the world.
Not doing something that everyone else does can also be one of the worst things that you can do.
Perhaps one of the best examples is how the majority of VCs tweet and blog actively. Not tweeting makes a VC seem inaccessible or untrustworthy. In a field based on trust, communication, and positive relationships, not tweeting can be detrimental to a VC’s ability to source great investments. And that’s without considering how many potential deals they might not be hearing about by not being active on Twitter.
It’s necessary then to think hard about what you do, what you don’t do, and why. Sometimes, you’re forced to do things not because you want to do them, but because you fear the consequences of not doing them. But there are things that you can consciously choose not to do that will become a key, positive part of who you are or what your company represents.
If you’re willing to take that risk and bear the consequences, you might find a huge opportunity to differentiate yourself from the pack.
Let’s consider taxis. Taxi drivers are generally pretty serious and professional about what they do: after all, it’s their job. Uber prides itself on a similar sense of seriousness and professionalism, but promises a much better user experience. Now consider Lyft, a company that actively chooses not to be serious with quirky, pink mustaches and drivers that are forced to fistbump you and engage in conversation. It’s ultimately subjective, but a lot of people love Lyft! And it’s all because they choose not to be serious: that’s their competitive advantage.
Yo is also a great example. It’s unclear how successful (or unsuccessful) it will ultimately become, but Yo has carved itself a niche with contextless push notifications, something so radically different (or useless, depending on who you ask) that it has everyone buzzing.
We’re always in search of outliers, but it’s not about being nonconformist for the sake of being nonconformist. It’s about thinking hard about the defaults and questioning them. Certain things you can’t choose not to do, like customer service or making something your customers actually want. But other things, like not being serious in a serious industry, can make all the difference.
At Aflume, we’re trying to shape the future of music by changing how artists and fans interact, but we aren’t trying to be the next website that everyone goes to for music. Everyone these days says, check out my videos on Youtube, stream my music on SoundCloud, buy my stuff on iTunes, support me on Bandcamp, fund my Kickstarter, follow me on Twitter and Facebook. And on each site, musicians are forced to build a new profile, rediscover their fans, and then find a way to integrate that into their artistic identity.
You’ve probably never heard of us, and that’s not because we work with a lot of independent artists. It’s because we’re not trying to build a platform where you find artists to support. We’re consumer facing, but we’re letting artists take full creative and artistic control of our product: we power artists’ websites and want to be the backend of the music industry. And for the first time online, artists can promote themselves instead of yet another platform that they have a profile on.
Hopefully, we’re not doing the right thing.
If you’re a musician and think what we’re doing sounds interesting, please reach out. We’d love to help you succeed.
Yesterday, I watched my friend flip out over Dreadhalls, a horror dungeon game for the Oculus Rift where the goal is to sneak out of a dimly lit dungeon. Despite the technical limitations of the Rift (640×800 per eye in the developer kit) and the fact that Dreadhalls is still under development, Dreadhalls manages to be an intensely terrifying experience.
This brings up a serious question about the implications of VR innovation. As VR software and hardware improve, the experience inevitably will too. So whereas Titans of Space will become an even more awe-inspiring trip through space, a higher-quality version of Dreadhalls would only become more intense and more scary.
What, then, does this mean about a first-person shooter like Call of Duty? With high quality graphics and sound, a VR game like Call of Duty would put you right into the middle of the battlefield, complete with guns, bullets, grenades, and, most importantly, death. With guns aimed at your head and bullets whizzing by, do you panic? When you’re looking down a sniper scope, with your target in sight, do you pull the trigger? When you see the body in front of you fall from the blast of your shotgun, do things get, perhaps, a bit too intense for comfort?
My hunch is that this sort of experience won’t be universally enjoyed. The brutality of World War I led to shell shock, a physical and emotional reaction to the intensity of the war that has since become ingrained in our memory of the war. Nowadays, we talk a lot about PTSD, particularly in the context of war veterans after returning home from war. It seems plausible that we’ll see some resemblance of PTSD or shell shock appear due to increased intensity and immersion in VR games. At the very least, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear about panic or heart attacks induced by VR, particular through something like Dreadhalls or a FPS.
So here’s my question: where and how do we draw the line on what experiences are appropriate for VR? Or will something like the uncanny valley appear and solve this problem naturally? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
I recently led a workshop on basic HTML and CSS at Google Cambridge for MIT’s Blueprint, a 14-hour event for high school students interested in software development and computer science. My talk assumes no prior knowledge and walks you through a simple HTML and CSS website, teaching fundamentals like the box model, classes vs. ids, and more.
<link rel="stylesheet" href="styles.css" />
<h1>Blueprint is awesome!</h1>
<p>Hi! Welcome, I'm learning HTML and CSS. Built by Frank at <a href="http://blueprint.hackmit.org/">Blueprint 2014.</a></p>
<div class="column" id="column1">
<img src="1.png"><br /><br />
Why we are the best.
<div class="column" id="column2">
<img src="2.png"><br /><br />
Why we are the most fun.
<div class="column" id="column3">
<img src="3.png"><br /><br />
Why we are the most awesome.
<h2>You'll love our awesome features.</h2>
font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, Sans-serif;
margin: 0 auto;
margin: 30px 0 0 0;
margin: 15px 0 0 0;
padding: 20px 15px;
margin: 15px 0 30px 0;
My parents currently live in China and they, like pretty much all of China nowadays, actively use WeChat. The last year, I’ve used WeChat more and more to communicate with them, but I could never understand why they and so many others were so drawn to WeChat over alternative messaging apps like iMessage. Despite a clunky interface, slow load times, and a design language that feels more 2008 than 2013, WeChat’s Chinese adoption numbers have been off the charts, with over 400 million worldwide users and no signs of slowing in Asia.
I’m currently home in China for the holidays and I’ve had some time to observe how my parents are using WeChat, how my sister is using it, and how strangers on the street and on the subway are using it. What I’ve seen has definitely surprised me.
Most importantly, I’ve noticed that WeChat isn’t a messaging app. I had originally thought that messaging was the main focus of WeChat. Instead, it performs a role best described as an interesting blend between messaging, social gaming, Twitter, and Facebook.
For a lot of people, WeChat is the start and end of their phone usage. Need to talk to someone? Send them a text message or leave them a voice message. Want to see what your friends are up to? Go to “Moments”, where you can view a stream of their activity and post an update of your own. Want to play games? Play from within WeChat.
“Moments” is probably the most used feature of the app. It’s basically a social network that lies adjacent to the app’s basic messaging features, where users have profiles where they can post photos and statuses and change their profile pictures and cover photos. Like Facebook, you can publicly like and comment on posts. However, the “Moments” feature is buried two levels deep, much like how Twitter’s direct messaging functionality was before the most recent update (version 6). To get to it, you have to first enter the Discover tab and before seeing others use it, I had personally never visited it.
The reason why WeChat is doing so well, though, is because its other features are definitely not ignored. WeChat, as an app, is very versatile, leading to insanely high user retention. Its chatting and messaging features, complete with chat backgrounds and stickers, have found popularity amongst the QQ crowd that provided the initial traction for WeChat (it’s interesting to note that QQ and WeChat are both owned by the same company, Tencent, and that they successfully leveraged this existing userbase to launch WeChat). The messaging features serve as a replacement for email, texting, and IM. Like WhatsApp, a lot of people are opting to replace their traditional SMS plans with more data and using WeChat to fill in the gap. Throw in the network effect, and even those that don’t choose to forego SMS find themselves on WeChat more and more as well in order to interact with their friends.
Screenshot from WeChat's website
But it isn’t just text messaging that is helping to drive WeChat’s user retention. I was pretty surprised by how popular the walkie talkie (push-to-talk) feature is for communication, which I believe stems from how difficult it is to enter Chinese characters on a phone. It’s not uncommon to see people walking down the street or on the subway, speaking in quick 2 to 3 second bursts on their WeChat accounts. Instead of calling one another, a lot of Chinese people choose to use these walkie talkie conversations, giving them the benefits of asynchronous communication coupled with the power of voice. I’m also suspecting that more and more people are starting to substitute their phone service with WeChat’s walkie talkie feature as well, making an average Chinese user’s phone plan pretty heavily focused on 3G data.
WeChat has grown so quickly because of its versatility and all-encompassing nature. I’d guess that the only app a lot of people in China use is, in fact, WeChat. My cousins and my family agree. Tencent would probably agree as well.
Tencent is hedging its bets that WeChat can and will own the entire Chinese Internet market. Just yesterday, they’ve launched Weixin TV, a smart TV completely integrated into WeChat, yet another expansion of the WeChat feature base. Instead of focusing on any one particular product and making it better, they’ve decided to throw literally everything under the WeChat umbrella.
This, precisely, is why I believe WeChat will not find the same success in the American market. What Chinese consumers are looking for is an all-inclusive piece of software that does everything they could ever want, whereas American consumers would rather split time between multiple apps in order to get the best possible user experience. In China, where it really is a winner-take-all situation, this isn’t a bad development strategy, but the Western market is entirely different, where I don’t see WeChat gaining mass adoption, at least in its current state. WeChat is part-Facebook, part-Twitter, part-Instagram, part-Tumblr, part-WhatsApp, part-Skype — it does a lot, but it doesn’t do anything exceptionally well. If WeChat wants to seriously compete in the American market, it will have to not only beat pure messaging apps like WhatsApp and iMessage, but also (and most importantly!) everything else that has been thrown into the mix.
When I was a child, I remember being paranoid of standing in public showers at the YMCA and even in hotel rooms. I always assumed that I would catch some sort of foot disease from standing where other people had stood before, forcing me to either arch my toes upwards and stand on my heels or to tiptoe around clumsily. Despite the discomfort, I would stumble around in every public shower I found myself in, making sure to cover as little surface area as possible.
In the back of my mind, I always told myself that I was being irrational and that everyone else stood normally in the shower, but for the longest time, I remained completely stubborn about this behavior. But with time, as with most of our childhood quirks, I eventually grew out of it.
A few days ago, I stepped into a hotel shower and instinctively, I didn’t take off the flip flops that were already on my feet. At college, we’re strongly encouraged to wear them in the communal showers. Which leads me to the point — why didn’t I just do this when I was kid?
Simple: no one ever told me to.
I think this story, though quite idiosyncratic, sums up the reason why we are always driven to learn new things and gain new experiences. We don’t know what we don’t know. And what we do know can constantly surprise us — even something so seemingly inconsequential as learning to wear my flip flops in the shower.
What is your “standing in showers” story?