Recently, I was in a Canterbury pub built in the 15th century taking respite from snow and bracing cold.
It was a fantastic reprieve for two reasons: (1) drinking world class scotch for 85% less than in the States always feels triumphant; and (2) watching and listening to the larger-than-life characters huddled near the fireplace with me in a space that was more an accommodating, wood-beamed crawl space than a tavern.
Their conversation was curmudgeonly, but poignant: People are losing sight of the fact that video chatting is not the same as… the real thing.
One of them said, “Thinking that you have the measure of someone due to a handful of Zoom calls is like reckoning you’re ready to pilot a 747 because you’re quite keen on laptop flight simulators.”
Well played.
On the train back to London, the Canterbury conversation made me think about my recent return to speaking in front of live audiences, and some conversations I’ve had with former buy-side colleagues.
I undertook a handful of speaking engagements via Zoom after the start of the pandemic and, well, hated it. It required all the preparation of speaking live, and absolutely none of the interaction that makes it all worth it.
For me, it was an easy decision to turn down 99% of “virtual” speaking gigs thereafter. While I make no judgments regarding its undeniable place in the world, it’s just not my bag.
Prior to Canterbury, I accepted a kind invitation from BDO to address Silicon Valley officers and directors at a series of mealtime, in-person get togethers.
One of the sessions – a dinner keynote for about 65 experienced board members – was a great example of the difference between Zoom and real life.
Had I presented my thoughts that night via Zoom about how value-destructive it is for boards to (regularly) eschew storytelling oversight, I probably would have thought it all went over swimmingly.
But it didn’t.
What I imparted was, in fact, met with conspicuous derision (a subject perhaps for another missive).
The dead giveaway: body language.
When you’re a small-cap fund manager you invest in jockeys not horses. Experienced investors learn to listen and observe… forensically. High performance listening and observing involve a lot more than voice and words.
The fascinating (and scary) thing about real life vs. Zoom is that the latter obscures so much of what we all rely on to adroitly assess Zeitgeist.
Tools like FT and Zoom et al. absolutely have their (limited) places in life, but lest anyone believe that they are replacements for real life, well, that’s going to end badly.
Unfortunately, more people than you think are deceiving themselves in this regard, and some of them manage billions of dollars.
An inordinate amount of small-cap growth investing – both venture and capital markets – during the pandemic was made via video conferencing. Most of the smartest investors I know recognize that it was necessary, but they lament cajoling themselves into thinking it was the same as meeting face to face.
It’s not.
Less experienced investors are going to find out the hard way that you can’t actually assess people virtually. It’s not a cool “hack.” It’s lazy and ineffectual.
As experienced CEOs tell me every week, “Saving the time and expense of business travel is great, but my team knows there is no replacement for dinner.”
So, whether you’re in rural Kent or Cupertino, consequential business is an in-person sport.
P.S. For those of you who were wondering, the Balvenie 14 Caribbean Cask was £4.10.
