My morning with Astro Teller of Google

Just finished watching a Q&A with Astro Teller from Google[x]. Apparently his team is behind the self-driving cars, glasses and many yet unannounced "moonshot ideas" at the Googleplex.

I wasn't planning on attending this talk - I walked into it by luck. I'd just arrived at the Google Campus to do something else entirely. And boy, was I in for a treat.

Not many people get to start their day with a motivational talk from an industry leader of this caliber. Working from Campus London affords me this opportunity almost on a daily basis.

Now, there is one thing Teller mentioned that struck me and energized me for the day. It has to do with raising funds with a VC, but I believe it applies with most endeavours.

VCs receive a thousand pitches by 10AM each day. They've seen it all, he says. There is no being different or original with them. They've seen the roller-blades, the goatees and pony tails; you can't impress them easily. What they look for cannot be worn, bought or faked.

VCs don't care about a business plan either. Business plans can change. In fact business plans will change. And they know that.

What they are looking for is "that look in your eyes." That look which says: (and I'm using my own words here) we will do this with or without you.

There is no question about if: We are doing this, even if we have to move Mount Fiji. We're fully invested. There is no turning back for us.

That's what the VC's are looking to see, according to Astro Teller.

And that's what I saw in his own eyes this morning. I saw an inspired man on a mission. To make the world a better place, one geeky invention at a time.

The truth about decision-making

I read with interest (and somewhat dismay) a recent post on a productivity blog which suggested companies should hold more meetings, albeit lean ones.

Their reasoning is well written and plausible. In fact I'd go as far as endorsing it, if only it wasn't for my book—get.RID—in which I lambasted meetings as an office "disease".

I find consolation in that get.RID was published twelve months ago. Back then meetings were still bad. Trend-setting business books like Rework deplored meetings as toxic and suggested employers should let their people work from anywhere they pleased. Doing no meetings and working from home was the only way forward.

But fashion is turning a corner it seems. Face to face collaboration is once again heralded as the way out of the woods.

Take Marissa Meyer for example who made the controversial decision to universally prohibit work from home at Yahoo a few months back. She wants employees to bump into each other and strengthen company culture.

Apple is also moving towards greater collaboration, as evidenced in Scott Forstall's firing and the greater integration between hardware and software teams under Johnny Ive.

Truth is, there is no easy answer

We humans crave for easy, binary answers. We need those in order to function. If every time I scheduled a meeting I suffered from existential qualms, then my productivity would suffer.

Obama recently revealed he only wears black or grey suits so as to avoid spending grey matter on choosing his outfit. Steve Jobs only had one set of clothes, known as his uniform.

We need a set of constants to act upon subconsciously, without expending mental energy. We need to step upon something solid; otherwise progress is impossible. Hence the need for structure and routine.

Our decision about where to work from should be an easy one. Meyer chose to ban work from home altogether. There you go: Yahoos now don't have to spend time deciding where to work from; they can spend time working and creating instead.

That sounds good to me.

An upcoming experience you don't want to miss

Yoga has traveled me from the mountains of Northern India to the sprawling avenues of New York.

It has guided me through publishing two books, authoring a prolific blog, observing an ethical diet, volunteering with the elderly and assuming a renewed focus on what matters most in life. In 2012 I became a certified Jivamukti Yoga instructor. I feel blessed.

Amongst others, I am enormously grateful to the inspired and holy teachers at Jivamukti Yoga. But perhaps most of all, I feel indebted to the yogini who literally pushed me into Yoga some time ago.

"Max, you're ready . . ." I still recall her saying.

Danai is one of the most electrifying personalities I know. Her passion as a Yoga teacher (and a friend) is contagious. Danai's humble brilliance and spirituality is balanced by a tireless zest for life, music and partying. It's impossible not to be uplifted after her classes.

Now, as a rule I only endorse products and people I'm not affiliated with. But I can't help but break this rule for the first time, as I'm convinced this is of true value to my readers.

Danai has put together a week-long Yoga course at a stunning resort in Mykonos, on the 2nd of June. And she just informed me of a last minute cancellation, which means there is an vacant room up for grabs.

If you are ready for an exhilarating asana immersion taught by one of the best teachers around—all under the glorious mediterranean sunshine— then now is the time to act.

Public speaking: Need to give a talk?

Do you give talks? If not, then now may be a time to reconsider. Barriers have never been smaller.

I am sure I state the obvious when I say this, but public speaking really is an exceptionally effective type of communication.

Body language, eye contact—and all face-to-face cues—are literally multiplied in effect by the number of heads in your crowd.

What's more, you have at least 20 minutes to go deep, elaborate and construct your reasoning. Used in the right way, a talk can immerse an audience to your message and leave a lasting impression.

And of course, you meet people. Each time I give a talk my contact list grows. Inquiries grow. Opportunity grows.

So how do you do it?

I suppose you need a topic first. The good news is, most people have one. Over the years you are bound to have learned at least one thing you can confidently talk about for 20 minutes.

Then you need a venue. That's a bit harder but very doable. London offers a great range of facilities tailored (and priced) for start-ups. Check-out HUB Westminster or tech-hub for example. If  you're strapped for cash there are some free places too. And if all else fails, the weather is getting warmer and the parks are free.

To organize and communicate your event, use EventBrite or MeetUp. You will be surprised by how many like-minded souls will show interest in your topic. Some will come for the socializing element of it all. In any case you will never know if you don't try.

If you are an established authority in your field then use Eventbrite to sell tickets at a price of your choosing.

And then of course you need to prepare. Giving a talk is an amazing experience as long as you spend the time to rehearse it.

Keep your slides aesthetically minimal and clear. Don't hide behind the podium—make eye contact with everyone and engage as much as you can. Socialize afterwards.

Now, I won't pretend for a minute that I'm an expert in giving talks. While my recent talks went okay, I did face some challenges.

The night before yesterday's talk I didn't sleep a wink. It wasn't so much out of performance anxiety as much as pent-up energy. What I should've done is go for a run, or any other aerobic exercise. Here are some more lessons learned from the first talk.

So, what are you waiting for? Get out and talk. If I can help with anything please get in touch.

Business Blog: Here is why you need one. Now.

Traditional advertising campaigns are a facade.

They illustrate the creative skills of the advertising agency, but say nothing genuine about your own ideas, your vision, creative passion and your people. It worked well for decades, but things are changing. Fast.

"The rigid campaign-based model of advertising, perfected over decades of one-way mass media, is headed for extinction. For messages to be heard [...], brands will need to create an enormous amount of useful, appealing, and timely content."
~Harvard Business Review

The notion of the consumer is falling apart. Customers are no longer buying a product. They buy an idea. They need to believe that you give voice to their views. That their time (and money) is invested in something they happen to believe in.

In promoting the “Universal Child” 2010 single, Annie Lennox vowed that all income will be used to support educating women and children in Africa with HIV/AIDS. To my gross ears her song was no masterpiece, but the idea behind it was compelling enough for me to spend one pound to download the song, knowing I’d never listen to it.

I bought-in her vision. I invested in her 'why'. Successful businesses have a ’why’. Watch Simon Sinek's all-time favourite talk illustrating this.

And here is where the blog comes in. The blog is where we articulate, and provide regular evidence of why we are in business. It is where we inspire our visitors and create customer loyalty, on a daily basis.

Merely having a blog will not magically produce your ’why’. However, a good blog is a platform for that 'why'. It is where you place genuine and regular evidence of your raison d'être. No advertising campaign can do that.

To learn more about the "what and how" of a successful blog, come join me at the Google campus next Wednesday 27th.

3 Beautiful Things You Should Checkout

I perused a ridiculous amount of documentaries, speeches, games and apps in the last few days. I mean let's face it; there is not much else one can do when strapped in bed with a stubborn virus.

Here are some finds that captured my imagination:

Organized Wonder: It's a beautifully designed site which curates some of the best talks, Vimeo films and inspiring bits and pieces from the interweb. It's my go-to website for when I sip my evening get-well-soup.

Another little discovery is Kuvva. It displays professional photography right on your desktop. What you get is vastly superior to the narrow selection of built-in wallpapers on a Mac, and it's nice to be greeted by a fresh new vista every morning.

My last "find" is different, and slightly more. . . geeky. If you ever played Monkey Island or Indiana Jones when you were a kid then I bet you're gonna like this app.

It's called ScummVM and what it does is allow you to play old adventure games on your modern laptop.

I can't begin to describe how exhilarated I felt when I played Monkey Island after 20 years. It nearly brought tears to my eyes. And if—like me—you grew up with Lucas Arts adventure games, then you're in for a very pleasant surprise.

Check it out.

Lingerie is a turn-off. Here is why

I've been meaning to write about this for ages.

But first: what on Earth qualifies me to talk about lingerie? Last time I checked, I was a man.

Besides, I've been single for what feels like an eternity—who wants to take lectures on sexuality from a single geeky dude like me? I should stay out of things I know shit about, right?

But I won't stay out of this. Here is why:

1. Same as manhood, womanhood belongs to no one

Over our many lifetimes—I subscribe to rebirth—we have all been women and men over and over again. We all are part feminine, part masculine. We all have nipples and a sexual plumbing that is fundamentally similar.

Also, I have grounds to believe that in my previous life I was a woman.

2. I am a feminist

Yes I am. I think the world needs more femininity. Notice I didn't say "more women".

See, I've worked in offices with women who were more masculine and ballsy than I was. Nurture had overwhelmed nature in their case. I wouldn't count on them for contributions to the world's femininity department. Of course, if women weren't outnumbered by men in the workplace (and in politics) there would be no need for them to grow balls.

Anyhow. I am a feminist, and this is why I think the entire lingerie concept is wrong.

To begin with, I believe lingerie objectifies women. What's more, lingerie involves effort, planning and preparation (on the woman's part). Very much like excessive make-up and tall high-heels, lingerie is the opposite of spontaneous. It is forced and boring.

Imagine the turn-off. A woman goes to the store, spends a fortune on a padded basque; she goes through the mental build-up for that special moment, and then. . . alas, the man fails to perform. Or he says or does something stupid or immature; like the elephant in the porcelain shop, he unwittingly obliterates her grandiose hopes, one by one. He doesn't measure up to the sky-high expectations she's been harbouring ever since she invested in that Coco-de-Mer suspender belt.

So what works?

How about keeping things simple? Why not let the allure of the "unexpected bonus" work its wonders? The effortless, the natural, the subtle.

But then again what do I know?

There is nothing wrong with the iPhone

After 18 months of usage, my iPhone 4S still impresses me with what it does for me.

Last week I gave a talk using "Keynote remote", a tiny app that lets me control a presentation that runs on my Mac. This means I can focus on the audience instead of my laptop. What's more, it displays presenter notes—this is incredibly helpful as I work the stage.

Truth is, I haven't tried the Samsung S3 or any Android phone for that matter. I'd love to give them a spin one day. Many owners swear by them.

And yet there is something about the iPhone that keeps me voluntarily blindfolded in the fanboy bandwagon. See, I truly believe the iPhone with its small screen size and same-old UI, works perfectly well. Arguably it works better than anything else out there.

I believe the reason we lust after the latest Samsung phones is because we're bored. Not so much with our iPhone, as much as with our lives altogether.

I speak for myself of course.

8 Lessons from my Google Campus talk

My talk this week was supposed to evangelize the use of blogs as a way to improve personal and professional well-being.

It went great in the end, which is quite hard to believe, given that everything seemed to be conspiring against me. Last Tuesday I fell sick. Just when I should be pressing forward, I was mired with fever and did nothing at all.

By Saturday I had enough of all this misery. I went out and bought some Panadol Extras hoping for the symptoms to recede—recede enough for me to make some headway. I was days away from the event now. I was falling dreadfully behind and was freaking out.

Why so much preparation?

Early on I decided not to use boring bullet points in my slides. I wanted to memorize the entire talk and use the slides as visual prompts to augment what I am saying.

I also decided I didn't want to hide behind a podium. I employed a remote control app for the slides, together with a wireless microphone so I could be free to roam around the stage unbound by cables.

To sum up, my dreams were lofty.

Alas, reality seemed to disagree with me. The paracetamol in the Panadols caused an acute allergic reaction. My eyes swelled to such a degree that I couldn't open them anymore.

In the end I only managed 48 hours of preparation. The talk went better than expected—but it could've gone even better.

What went well:

  1. Based on feedback, people found the talk inspiring, thought-provoking and different from what they were used to—in a good way.
  2. All technical components went smoothly. The remote control, live demos and slide transitions segued forward without any hiccups. It helped that the Google campus has hi-def, HDMI-capable projectors and wireless lapel microphones. I was spoiled for choice.
  3. A couple of days before the talk I traveled to the venue for a dry run. I got to familiarize myself with all the equipment, mics, sound, wireless et cetera. And that made all the difference.
  4. Managing the event through Eventbrite was a great choice. I was able to reach individuals far and beyond my existing contact base. The caliber of the people in the audience turned out to be superb.
  5. I recorded the talk with a Zoom H1 and that gave me great insights. See below.
  6. Using Apple's Keynote proved to be a fabulous choice.

What didn't go well:

  1. I didn't have time to prepare every single part of the talk, and it showed. At some points all I could utter was "umm" and "emm". Listening to the recording was painful at times. I always seemed to recover my flow in the end—but had I spent more time rehearsing then all those awkward sounds and pauses wouldn't be there. Rehearsing the material is not about giving a "scripted" talk. On the contrary it makes me relaxed and confident enough to divert from the script as needed, knowing I can find my way back with no issue.
  2. Towards the end of the Q/A my fever flared up again, so I didn't spend enough time engaging with my audience.

Why did I fall ill at such a critical juncture? That will keep me thinking for awhile. I have some pet theories—some of them more plausible than others—but haven't decided upon them yet.

Plenty of food for thought. I haven't finalised the next steps just yet, but suffice to say I will be doing this again as I felt it was worthwhile for everyone involved.

Stay tuned.