Dan Cullum

Think of any subscription service you’ve signed up to online.

My bet is all of them, every single one, renews automatically.

If they have your credit card on file, and the renewal date passes, they attempt to take your money.

This behaviour is normalised. We’ve come to expect it as a default pattern. So we, the consumer, are responsible for setting calendar reminders to cancel subscriptions and free trials. The onus is on us.

So here’s what makes Pinboard so special.

I’ve written about Pinboard before. It’s an online bookmarking tool that makes searching and tagging for saved content easy. I also like that Pinboard is built end-to-end by a single developer. He is the whole company.

Today I got an email from Pinboard that said, “This is a friendly reminder that your Pinboard subscription expires on 21 June 2022. If you wish to keep using the site, you’ll need to extend your subscription. If you don’t renew your subscription, you’ll still be able to see and export your bookmarks. But you will no longer be able to save new bookmarks, edit your bookmarks or tags, or use the search engine.”

Firstly, renewal isn’t assumed. This is a breath of fresh air. Secondly, I don’t loose access to my bookmarks; compared with many content-focused companies that threaten you with losing access to all your content once you stop subscribing.

Being a one-person operation, Pinboard can go against the grain in surprising and unorthodox ways. By not auto renewing, Pinboard has built more trust and good will with me in one interaction than many other companies do over many years.

This is an example of going against the grain that, in my opinion, is a masterclass in playing the long game.

It’s easy to have an opinion about the future.

It’s significantly more challenging to share that opinion as a public prediction.

Last year, Clubhouse was all the rage. It was a fast growing start-up that was causing a stir due to its audio-only approach. Users could drop into a room, listen to live conversations, and also take part.

When people such as Elon Musk, Naval, and Gary Vee started using the platform, there was massive momentum forming around Clubhouse’s prospects.

Then came along Shaan Puri, who back in March 2021 posted a brutal opinion on Clubhouse, it’s product, and it’s prospects.

Puri needed to wait 15 months before reality caught up to his predictions. Clubhouse is currently struggling. Despite finding early traction, its failed to convert it into sustainable and retentive growth in users.

My broader reflection here is reality will eventually prove us right or wrong. And if we share our predictions publicly, we have to deal with those predictions standing alone without a verdict for days, weeks, months, or even years. That shouldn’t stop us from forming an opinion though, because something happens when we say it publicly — it forces us to adopt a higher standard of rigour and care in what we’re sharing with the world.

Regardless of whether it’s a short weekend trip, or a multi-week journey, I find unpacking upon arrival home does wonders for helping me settle back in.

Unpacking is a tangible, physical action that functions similarly to a full stop punctuation mark in prose: it’s a guide to the reader that a sentence or paragraph is coming to an end, and that a new sentence and journey must begin.

I always find the first few days difficult after I’ve said goodbye to family. Despite living apart for 10 years, it doesn’t get easier. But little actions like unpacking immediately can help put me in a good headspace to look forward to the week ahead.

I previously wrote a post called ‘Always try the oyster’.

It’s a way of approaching new experiences; committing to trying them rather than shying away. It’s also about creating a habit of trying things that we historically haven’t enjoyed (hence the focus on oysters in the original post), just in case our tastes have changed.

I’m wrapping up a wonderful 2 weeks with my family here in Malaysia, and on this trip I tried a bunch of things (mostly food!) that I previously avoided.

One of those was Cendol: a concoction of shaved ice, coconut cream, kidney beans, flour jelly, and palm sugar syrup.

My mum would always talk about how refreshing and tasty it was, but I always felt uncomfortable with the thought of kidney beans in my dessert.

However, this time, I remembered to “always try the oyster”, and I discovered a love for cendol. It’s the perfect blend of cold and sweet goodness. I now believe one of the most refreshing things one can eat on a hot and humid afternoon.

Perhaps I’ll start a series of posts on always trying the oyster. Sharing where, when, and what changed my mind.

I remember hearing a quote that we’re only as old as the last time we changed our minds. So here’s to staying open, being curious, and always trying the oyster.

I recently went karting here in Malaysia.

When I hopped in the kart, I was surprised—and scared—to find there were no seat belts.

Apprehensive at first, I was worried it was an oversight on the part of the karting facility, and I even considered forfeiting my drive.

Afterwards, I googled safety standards for karting and was even more surprised to find that karts typically don’t have seat belts.

In vehicles with no roll bars or collision protection, it’s actually safer to have no seat belts. In the event of a crash, it’s better for the driver to be thrown away from the vehicle than risk being hit by or trapped underneath it.

My brain needs some rewiring because it still feels unnatural to not have a seat belt when karting, even if it’s objectively safer.

Maru and I then began discussing other scenarios where what feels natural is less safe. For example, when SCUBA diving it’s dangerous to hold your breath, even though our natural reaction is to want to hold it when underwater. Or when learning how to ski, it’s natural to want to lean backward away from the speed and slope, but it’s better to lean forward to achieve proper weight distribution on the skis.

No deeper insight today. Just a reflection on an oddity I came across that I’m still wrapping my head around.

If comfort is a sedative, then is discomfort an energiser?

Some types of discomfort can help us to focus, to sharpen, and to learn.

Deliberately choosing discomfort can help us get better faster.

Choose wisely.

Growth vs Fixed mindset is pound-for-pound one of the highest value mental models out there.

Firstly, it’s so easy to understand. Second, it’s easy to apply—in any situation, we can simply ask ourselves if we’re approaching it with a Growth or a Fixed mindset; the one word answer is often enough for to confirm or challenge our current approach to a problem.

If used consistently, it really can change our day, our year, and our lives.

I often remind myself of this mental model because it’s just too costly to forget it.

I was surprised today to learn that since Brexit, 1) immigration to the UK is up, and 2) immigration ceased being “one of the most important issues facing the UK”. Despite EU migration falling, non-EU migration has increased to more than offset the drop.

And as someone who is categorically pro-immigration, I think this is an excellent result for the UK. The more diverse we are, the better. And less time spent by the government debating immigration, means more time spent on other issues.

Nobel Literature Laureate André Gide commented, “Everything that needs to be said has already been said. But since no one was listening, everything must be said again.”

I’ve let this one sit and simmer in my mind.

It conjures thoughts about openness, curiosity, repetition, reflection, and even the brevity of the human lifespan; how all progress depends upon the delicate transfer of culture, knowledge, and wisdom.

Saying things again isn’t an issue. It’s a necessity.

We create, view, and store thousands of documents, presentations, letters, and bills each year. Having clear folders to organise these documents are important, but equally important is having a good chronological sorting system.

Organising by ‘Date modified’, ‘Date added’, or ‘Date created’ can be helpful, but there’s a lot of sorting, filtering, looking at dates in different columns.

Here’s a method I learnt a few years ago that has saved me a tonne of time.

At the beginning of each document title, write the date in YYMMDD format, and then sort all your folders on the ‘Document Name’ column by Z to A.

You’ll then have all your documents presented to you in the order they were created in. Finding documents is a breeze. And knowing the original creation date has been a big help when versioning documents too.

We can choose to get frustrated, hot headed, and blustery.

Or we can step back, take a deep breath, figure out the next best step, make it, figure out the next best one, and so on.

We gain little by getting worked up.

Note: This post may seem painfully obvious, but I’m preaching to the choir here. I wrote it after the 3rd flight change I’ve had to deal with on this trip, which has had a cascade effect on car, hotel, and onward travel plans.

They’re a good chicken-or-the-egg pairing.

Patience affords us perspective.

When the world around us is messy, alternate perspectives help us develop patience.

It also reminds me of a quote I heard recently via a saccharine rom com (of all places!): if you sit in the question long enough, the answer will find you.

How often do we find ourselves thinking or saying the above?

There’s always going to be an ‘X’ we can blame. We don’t have the look hard.

The ‘X’ doesn’t even have to be real.

But what happens when we stop blaming ‘X’ and take full responsibility for ‘Y’?

The past won’t change, but the future might.

There’s no such thing as being on time.

We’re either early or late.

We get to decide which.

H/T Kevin Kelly – another from his list of life advice that’s been on my mind.

I love companies that focus on doing one thing really well.

They know their customers. They know the problem. And they put all their care, thought, effort, and attention into their singular solution.

Crocs. Gorilla Glue. Tabasco. Lucas Papaw Ointment. And my favourite London dessert shop, Cafe de Nata.

Expansion is hard. But focus is harder.

It takes extreme discipline to shun the shiny new thing and focus on the core.