Punks & Pinstripes

Our Punks & Pinstripes Chapter 2 Salon tomorrow night with David McWilliams is officially sold out. I couldn't be more excited for him to be joining us! David's book, "Money: A History Of Humanity" Was named "Book of The Year" by The Economist and the Financial Times. It received excellent reviews in the NY Times and Wall Street Journal. After leaving his career at top European banks, David has become an incredible and globally recognized creator of experiences (festivals, events, theater) and curator of knowledge (author, professor, founder, host). We're going to talk with him about his shift from his top seat in high finance across Europe to his second mountain - being one of the most globally respected economists of our time. You don't need to be an economist to join us. You don't need be a finance bro to get something special from this conversation. Link to the waitlist is in the comments.

David McWilliams is like the Anthony Bourdain of economics: irreverent, accessible, punk, and totally un-seduced by the corridors of high finance where he spent much of his career. (I can relate). I cannot overstate how f**king excited I am to interview him next week on Nov. 20 in NYC. His book "Money: A History of Humanity" reframes what money is. Since it first emerged in Ancient Greece money has been a tool for different cultures to make love not war. Economists think about money in terms of foreign exchange, interest rates, and inflation. Which is true, but it's also a tool that has enabled people from different tribes/ cultures/ countries to find a good reason to sit down and have coffee, and sell things to one another. If you walk around NYC today, or Dubai, or biblical Jerusalem, or 1600s Amsterdam, or Renaissance Florence, or Norman Palermo you would see that no one speaks the same language. And yet, because of money, they find a way to have coffee, marry one another, make art together, build businesses together. They aren't just hubs of finance, they are capitals of creativity that only emerge when cultures cross-fertilize. It's not a coincidence that NYC was both the home of Wall Street, and the birthplace of punk, the Harlem Renaissance, and Jazz. Florence was both the birthplace of double-entry accounting and Da Vinci. There's still some space for our conversation next week. Link in the comments.

Don’t give advice.  We live in a world where experts without experience sell advice without accountability. (#LinkedIn is the super-spreader of the thought leader industrial complex). At Punks & Pinstripes we offer a countermeasure. One of our core rules is don't give advice. When a member shares their struggle, we share our experience going through the same hard thing. We share how we came out the other side. We don't do it because it makes us sound smart. Or because we're trying to sell stuff. We do it for the same reason that recovering alcoholics sponsor other people trying to stay sober: being of service is critical to your resilience. There are two mountains of success: The first mountain is society's definition of making it: Get a job in the C-suite, get an exit, get recognition, respect. But at some point the success that has defined you is no longer the purpose that's calling to you. Then there's the second mountain - where you do the best work of your life as the truest version of yourself. You define what it means to thrive. Most executive communities are for the first mountain. Punks & Pinstripes is for the second mountain. We help each other thrive because we've all seen some shit. And we don't give advice. This is a picture from one of our Chapter two happy hours. The next one is next week on 9/25 with Marty Kihn. There are three spaces left.

My first big project when I joined Bloomberg’s #innovation team was to make sense of the Arab Spring for #WallStreet. A wave of popular uprisings in North Africa and the Middle East was causing the price of oil and interconnected stocks to fluctuate wildly, and investors were looking for answers. I worked through the weekend with two other analysts and created a model which measured the market’s reaction to past geopolitical crises. This way we could see if the market today was overreacting to the news relative to historical precedent. We built it in one weekend. When my senior leadership team saw it, they were thrilled. As a “reward” they paired me with a team of #McKinsey consultants who, I was promised, could turn it into a proper business plan. Six months, 267 slides, and many millions later, a flaming shovel-ful of PowerPoint dog$h*t was dropped upon the leadership team of Bloomberg. “The Arab spring was 6 months ago. What the fu*k are we going to do with this now?” Was the correct response offered by one of those illustrious leaders. McKinsey, at the time, was something like Capitalist Jesus. Nothing could be built, invested, or acquired in the Fortune 500 without an army of 29-year-old Harvard MBA alumni first bestowing their McKinsey blessing upon it. And yet, every time I worked with them, they made things slower, more complicated, more expensive, and less useful, usable, or accretive. They were ‘experts’ without experience selling advice without accountability. Somehow it was always my ass on the line when their $hitty advice didn't work. But never theirs. If you’ve ever been through something similar, I’m offering an evening of consulting catharsis on Sept. 25th. Punks & Pinstripes is hosting a conversation with Marty Kihn, whose memoir about his absurd life as a management consultant, “House of Lies,” punctured the mythology of consulting genius, and became a tv series where Don Cheadle plays Marty. We’ll be talking about the architecture of contrived expertise, his ability to see through it and observe it from the inside, and how he reinvented his career once he left. Space is limited to 30 people. There are 5 spots left. Link in the comments.

If you want to be hyper-productive, focused, with total clarity about what's urgent, important, and trivial. Then stop prompting #AI. Put your phone away. Go walk in the woods for a day. (This picture was taken from Bear Mountain last week, looking back from the peak toward the NYC skyline. It's an hour north of NYC, and feels like another galaxy) Something happens after 4 hours of walking in the forest. The revving engine of bull$h*t that constantly competes for your attention just switches off. Your mind empties itself out. It's quiet. You realize that the mountain has seen much heavier sh*t than your glitchy sales funnel, or your annoying boss, or your upcoming pitch, or your missed quarterly earnings. It feels good to just breathe, and walk, and be alive. Everything else is extra. You gain total clarity about what matters and what doesn't. This is why Punks & Pinstripes is hosting a retreat on a gorgeous 62-acre estate, 90 minutes north of #NYC October 8-10. There are 3 spots left. If this sounds like something you need, then let me know and I'll share more. And, seriously, take yourself on a date in the forest. For real.

"About 5 years ago something happened: I’d lived my life starving for approval and validation from huge, powerful companies, led by hugely powerful leaders. No matter how much I achieved, it was never enough. And, one day it just stopped. That version of success was no longer the purpose that was calling me. I began a heavy, hard project of defining success for myself." This is what a member of Punks & Pinstripes, a Chief Content Officer for a Big Tech firm said at a recent member dinner. Her transition is something many executives go through. We need to talk about it more. Success has two mountains. The first mountain is about society’s definition of winning: more seniority, more money, more recognition, a bigger exit, more approval. more power. Then something happens. A voice emerges from within that says, “This isn’t you anymore. Life is bigger than this.” Sometimes it’s triggered by a major life event: death, birth, love, divorce. Sometimes it just happens. On the second mountain, you define success. Money and recognition are aligned with impact and purpose. You define what “winning” means instead of following someone else’s playbook. It's a hard journey, but on the other side we do the best work of lives as the truest version of ourselves. Most executive communities are built for climbing the first mountain. Punks & Pinstripes is for the second mountain. This is a picture of one of our member dinners in #NYC. We were sad and miserable. 

Somewhere along the way, the wrong memo went out about how senior business people like to meet other senior business people. That memo said: 1. Elevator Puke On People. You have 19 seconds to vomit your credentials into the drink of the stranger you just met. This expulsion must include: your job title, your vision, your near-term goals, and should end with a quip. (See next bullet.) 2. Say “Living The Dream.” Or “We’re having a lot of fun.” Or “We’re looking at a big exit.” The goal here is to convince everyone that insecurity, fear, and uncertainty have never entered your field of vision. You’re a fu*king tiger. Grrrrrrrrrr. 3. Talk about AI. 4. Disengage and Re-Target. If your target’s elevator puke didn’t convince you of their usefulness, move on. No follow-up questions. No depth. Just reload and re-pitch. Also: The event must serve Heineken wrapped in a damp napkin. There will be pigs in a blanket and rubbery satay chicken. The dress code is “business casual,” whatever the f**k that means. At Punks & Pinstripes, we ignored the memo. Our events are a sanctuary of authenticity in a sea of business bullshit. Because nobody worth knowing is impressed by your elevator puke. Nobody doing the real work is actually living the dream. The best conversations don’t happen in business casual. They happen after someone says something honest: “I don’t know what I’m doing next.” “I’m scared I won’t get another shot.” “My last thing failed - but I’m proud of how I walked away.” That’s when the good $h*t starts. That's when you lean in to learn more. When they say, “This might get me fired, but here’s what I really think....” This picture is from an event we hosted on a Brooklyn rooftop last year while we were living the dream. Just kidding.

“When I turned 40 I got my boss fired. And I suddenly hated myself. I was running a $50 billion portfolio for a major bank, and growing it had become my entire identity. My boss was a good guy who was an old-school deal maker. But he was in my way. He was too slow, too antiquated, too soft. I successfully lobbied to replace him. On the day he left I felt an immediate, physical shock that my #success had crushed my soul. It was like a voice from within grabbed me by the collar and said, ‘this can’t be what you become.’” This is what one of the members of Punks & Pinstripes, a major infrastructure investor, shared at a recent members-only Feast. This was the catalyst that made him leave big finance and start over as an #entrepreneur. I think most successful people have a moment like this, when the victories that defined their growth feel like it’s distorting their values in dangerous ways. Those who come out the other side go on to do the best, most impactful, most rewarding work of their lives. But getting to the other side is really hard and lonely. Success has two mountains The first mountain is about society’s definition of ‘making it’ - more money, power, recognition, respect. The second mountain is about defining success for yourself, so that growth, purpose and impactfulness are more aligned. You do the best work of your life as the truest version of yourself. Most executive #communities are for climbing the first mountain. Punks & Pinstripes is for the second mountain. This is a picture of some of our members at a recent members dinner in a Brooklyn garden. Check the link in the comments to learn more.