Dan's Daily

I’ve recently been discussing the concept of ‘convincing failure’ with my colleagues

It was first shared as a post by Boz, CTO at Meta.

The idea is that there are two types of failure: abject failure and convincing failure.

How do these two failure types work in practise?

Let’s say a team has penned down their strategy, and now it’s time to execute.

If the team executes poorly—they mismanage, are distracted, and don’t follow the plan—this is an abject failure.

However, if you execute to a high standard, one where it’d be “unlikely that another team, even with more time and effort, could succeed”, that’s a convincing failure. Under this scenario, perfect execution of the plan let’s you know that you got your strategy wrong, and you can learn something meaningful for the next iteration, project, or venture.

It’s a helpful way to frame up potential outcomes. Failure is OK, but make sure it’s a convincing failure.

Don’t worry about asking a “dumb question”.

Be earnest. And thoughtful. And try to learn something today that you didn’t know yesterday.

Confidence in our curiosity sets the tone for others to follow.

Airport restaurants are not known for their quality of food or service.

They can get away with mediocre products because customers don’t have other options. The buyer / seller relationship is based on one of circumstance and convenience; not loyalty and fandom.

Compare that to the local coffee shop where the regulars are greeted by name and the barista begins to make their order the moment they walk through the door.

Where there is accountability, the team and products are incentivised to rise to the occasion.

I’ve found myself reflecting multiple times in the past year on how grateful I am that my mum taught me to read simple sentences and do basic arithmetic before I started school.

I can’t understate how helpful it was in forming a positive internal narrative that “I was good at this school stuff”.

Although I was never the smartest in the class, she set off a chain reaction of virtuous cycles that carried me through primary school. It wasn’t about being “the best”, it was about building an internal confidence that no matter what the subject, I had the capacity to learn it.

Momentum begets momentum, and getting started today almost always makes tomorrow easier.

The days can melt into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years.

There are many benefits to daily writing, but one of them is to notice.

When ‘curiosity mode’ is by default ‘on’, because I’m looking for something useful to share, I end up looking at—and experiencing—the world with a more open mind.

The point is to notice, and to continue to do it every day.

I’m currently reading the newly released Walter Isaacson biography on Elon Musk.

Over the past few years, I’ve had many debates with family and friends over Musk. Some love him, some can’t stand him.

In the same way that Isaacson had full creative control over the biography he wrote on Steve Jobs, Musk granted him the same rights for this one.

Isaacson was granted unfettered access to Musk for 2 years, and he followed him round his various companies, sat in on meetings, and spoke with almost all the most important people in Musk’s professional and personal life. It provides him a perspective that cannot be matched, so I decided it was worth the read.

Three things so far have stood out:

1. Musks’ drive to electrify the planet and make humans an interplanetary species have been with him since young. He was working on physics problems for electric cars during his undergrad, and has been dreaming about going to Mars since then too.

2. Musk was a voracious reader when young, but it still came as a surprise to me that when Musk decided to enter a new industry (e.g., aerospace), the first thing he did was usually to go down to the local library and read every book on the subject. He did this very thing with the engineering and propulsion topics required to build SpaceX. It almost seems too simple, or too basic, but the approach makes a lot of sense.

3. There’s no hiding his faults. The demons from his childhood relationship with his father, to his ultra-demanding and extreme leadership style, to his habit of courting drama and celebrity; all of it is on display through the reflections of people who have worked with him over the years.

I’m only 25% of the way through (so we haven’t gotten to Twitter yet!), but it’s a great insight into the person who will no doubt go down in history as one of the biggest shapers of our century.

I passed a print shop earlier today. They had two things written in big lettering on the front of their store:

1. We print anything
2. We always deliver on time

There’s no need for fancy imagery or flowery explanations when you what your customers want and you can deliver.

But it’s the best we have until we find out there’s a better way.

Once we realise that, we can approach our work—and planning—with a little more calm and perspective.

Today’s plan likely won’t last. And that’s OK.

I finally got round to finishing Shoe Dog, the memoir by Nike founder, Phil Knight.

Since watching Air earlier this year—a great film about how Nike created the Air Jordan brand—I knew I wanted to read Shoe Dog.

Knight recounts the journey chronologically from an idea he pitched in his Stanford Business School class in 1962, to selling imported Onitsuka runners out the back of his car, to building the first line of Nike’s, and finally to the company’s IPO in 1980.

It’s a wild ride and a story of remarkable grit, creativity, and consistency on the part of the founding team.

I was shocked to learn that Knight spent the first 8 years also working a “normal job” because the company always had cash flow issues and could’ve failed at any moment.

I chucked at how Knight’s original name for their first pair of in-house shoes was Dimension Six; thankfully one of his employees suggested Nike.

And I marvelled at how a student was paid $35 to produce the Nike swoosh logo that is now on every other pair of shoes we see in the street.

It’s a realistic and humble insight into the real journey behind building a business. It’s also a tonne of fun.

If you’re waking up with an alarm, you’re not getting enough sleep.

It seems obvious once you think about it.

Instead of seeing it as a call to wake up, why not treat it as a signal to wrap up a little earlier the night before?

Every city has a personality.

New York is young, ambitious, carefree, and wants to “do all the things” because they’re afraid of missing out.

London is a little older, a little more settled, but it tries to hang on to the vibrancy of New York.

Paris is classy and relaxed. It cares about culture, but isn’t afraid to break a few rules.

Edinburgh is moody and refined. It’s middle-aged in a tweed jacket sipping whiskey in a leather armchair. Neat, of course.

Sydney is the effortlessly-cool surfer with sun-stained hair. They’re always happy. It’s hard to be sad with that much sun.

Melbourne is opinionated, sport-obsessed, and a supporter of all things cultural.

Every city has a personality.

Which did I get wrong? Which do you see differently? Which cities do you immediately have a personality for? Share them with me!

Maru and I started a tradition a few years ago: whenever we’re on holiday by the ocean, we’ll make sure to go for a swim on the day we fly out.

It doesn’t matter if it’s raining or if we need to get up before sunrise. Carrying wet togs home don’t factor in either. We always get our dose of salt water.

We’re heading back to London today, and during this morning’s swim I realised that traditions are established through conscious effort. They require thought, work, and care to become a thing.

Sure, we can luck or stumble our way into a cherished tradition, but when I think about all the little details of the traditions across our two families, the best traditions are deliberate.

I’ve had to set up multiple new computers—personal and professional—in the last few years. The most recent being last week. Each time I do so, I marvel at how easy the process has become now because of the Cloud.

Less than ten years ago, it was a mighty pain. All my photos and documents were stored locally on my university laptop, and most of my software was installed via a CD and associated software key.

Compare that to today where almost everything is either in the Cloud or accessible via a browser. With access to my password manager, I’m up and running within 30 mins.

This change didn’t happen overnight, nor was it a straightforward transformation. It was painstaking set of deliberate optimisations by many organisations over many years to make this experience easy as possible.The slow prod of progress to make our lives a little more seamless. I’m grateful.

The Rugby World Cup has arrived! It kicked off tonight with the New Zealand All Blacks facing France in the Stade de France in Paris.

I’m writing this post at half time from a noisy cocktail bar in Rhodes. France is up 9-8.

I remember writing about the previous Rugby World Cup in 2019. It made me smile to think about how this daily blog is now seeing its second round of every-four-years global sporting events.

These events bring the world together like few others, and they’re milestones that mark the passing of time in their own special way. We marvel at the skill, remember the moments of brilliance, and celebrate (or commiserate) with our friends and family.

For the next month and a bit… go the All Blacks!

I ordered a bottle of San Pellegrino sparkling water in Rhodes, Greece.

The label claimed Italian heritage, but Singaporean import information, as well as Australian recycling instructions, and something else in Greek.

I chuckled and imagined a San Pellegrino branding executive telling their label designer to go off in a bunch of directions without thinking about the whole.

I enjoy noticing these oddities and trying to piece together why they happened.