Issue No. 11
Hello, and Happy Valentine’s Day. It’s fitting that in this issue, Matt sits down with Adam Davidson to talk about passion, the essential ingredient that drives people to innovate, to create, to follow dreams.
Davidson, an award-winning business journalist and founding co-host of the NPR podcast Planet Money, now writes for The New Yorker and is the author of the new book The Passion Economy: Nine Rules for Thriving in the Twenty-First Century. “For most of the twentieth century, the overwhelming majority of men and women were forced to make a choice when it came to work: follow the money or follow their passion,” he writes. “But now, more than ever before, business and art, profit and passion, are linked.” Increasingly, Davidson claims, you no longer have to choose between following your passion or opting for a “traditional” career path.
This is a cornerstone of our beliefs here at TCF, and a recurring theme in the conversations we have with our readers. You are starting products, companies, and movements not because you believe it’s the road to fame, fortune, and a quick exit via golden parachute; rather, because your passion has put you on a path you must follow. To the artists, innovators, change-makers, and creative entrepreneurs in the world, there is no not doing the thing. We dedicate this issue to you.
Amanda Tuft & Matt McCue, Co-Founders / Editors@thecreativefactor.co
Image, Karina Tess via Unsplash
In his new book, The Passion Economy, Adam Davidson highlights characteristics common to people who follow their passion and the money: They charge by the value of the work, not the hours worked; own a niche and provide deep domain expertise; and turn down potential clients who aren’t the right fit. Davidson could be a character in his book.
A lifelong storyteller, he has started his own podcast production company Three Uncanny Four Productions, with co-founder Laura Mayer and Sony. Their first podcast, BROKEN: Jeffrey Epstein, was made in collaboration with Academy Award-winning director, Adam McKay, and is out now. A slate of new shows is on the way.
When Davidson became CEO, he figured there was some kind of CEO rulebook. He could bring the purpose and passion, and then follow a one-size-fits-all guide on the business end. But there isn’t one. So he and Mayer are writing their own chapters on how to launch a company, rethinking conventional ways of raising capital and investor partnerships in ways that allow them to make good money and maintain their creative soul.
Tell us about how your grandfather and father’s professional pursuits influenced yours?
To be honest, I felt stuck when I was in high school and college thinking about what I wanted to do with my life. My dad is an actor and and devoted his life to pursuing his passion. He would tell my brother and me that is a better life, the life of following your art, your creative spirit. It wasn't just him. I grew up in a building in Greenwich Village, New York that was all artists. The vast majority of adults I knew were similar people who followed their passion and didn't make much money. Nobody around me was very religious, but it was like the religion of creativity and passion is the right way to live a life. My dad's dad was the exact opposite: The measure of a man is how much money he makes, how successful he is in business.
I did want to follow my passions. But I also knew I wanted some stability and, when I thought about having kids, I wanted to raise my kids with financial stability.
Before you became CEO of Three Uncanny Four Productions, was there a turning point where you saw you could follow your passion and the money?
I had a major turning point in 2005 when I was still at NPR, and I clicked into podcasting. Back in 2005, there were podcasts, but it was hardly a household word.
As a business reporter, I’ve always been fascinated with an industry going through massive change. One day a friend was talking to me about podcasting and I was suddenly like, Oh, that does change everything at NPR. It was clear that podcasting, even in its baby form, was going to take an active choice. Podcasts were about getting people excited and were going to reward an entirely different set of skills. It’s the one big business insight I've ever had. That led to me to create Planet Money and realize that my job was to hone my own voice, my own way of telling stories home, the stories I want to tell.
Your body of work has led to a partnership with Sony, where you and your co-founder Laura Mayer each own 25 percent of Three Uncanny Four Productions, and Sony owns the other 50 percent. What decisions did you weigh when considering a partnership with Sony?
It’s easy. I desperately did not want a partner and definitely didn't want a corporate partner.
When Laura and I started working together we had a few ironclad rules. One was no outside investors because we had seen a bunch of podcast production companies that got outside investors, made a lot of money, and, lost their soul. They became forced to meet arbitrary metrics that weren't necessarily serving quality.
A buddy of mine who has a business and has chosen not to have investors told me, “When I wake up at three in the morning because I'm worried, I want to be worried about stuff I care about and I just don't want it to be what some investor wants me to be doing.” It’s a good formulation for entrepreneurs because you're definitely waking up at three in the morning.
What do you worry about at three in the morning?
I’m worried about how you create great content, how you create a great team, and how I am not as good as CEO as I wish I was.
What happened between your initial view of not taking on a corporate partner and ultimately partnering with Sony?
They talked about dipping their toes in podcasting, and we were like, that’s ridiculous. If you dip your toes in, it will all be gone. The next couple of years are going to be pivotal.
They wanted to hire a bunch of podcasts creators and we said, nobody really great will work for you. People want to work for people who are great, and you don’t know what you’re doing yet. We were nice, but frank.
When they called a week later, we were seduced by their message, which is a powerful message: The music industry all but collapsed in the last couple of decades and re-emerged with the realization that the big stars don’t need the music industry anymore. The music industry used to be gatekeepers, but what they need to do now is create a value and environment for the creators, so that the creators love working with them.
Sony’s view is that tech companies have a hard time with the creative process because creativity can't be automated and iterated. During the creative process, you spend time doing things that are a total waste of time, and then you go and do something else and suddenly figure out a whole new thing.
It was months of these types of conversations with Sony, and we wanted to be part of it. We’ve been thrilled; they've been awesome.
From these conversations, what should an entrepreneur consider when seeking an investor?
Do not think of it like, Oh, I'm an entrepreneur, so I need investors. Which investors am I going to get? But rather, I'm an entrepreneur, which means I will not have investors because I am the only one who can own my essence of my business. Maybe one day you can find an investor who is fully-aligned, but anyone short of fully-aligned is going to probably destroy you. The stats are pretty grim about startup CEOs with investors. Something like 80 percent of them are fired by their investors.
You’ve been CEO for about 10 months now. What have you learned about running a business that you wish you had known before you started?
It has been a very, very intense learning period. First of all, have a great partner who complements you. Laura and I are lucky in that. I like having big thoughts about the future, but I'm useless at actually planning the next six months. Having a partner or team that can support and work with you in that way is crucial.
I also feel like I was looking externally for what a CEO is supposed to do, like imagining there is like a rulebook out there. Once I learned the rulebook, I'll just do that rulebook thing. Then I realized that me as a CEO means I have to tap into me and understand what I bring to this conversation and company.
It's getting easier. The only way I know how to deal with it is be open about it and, if I’m struggling, tell people. That's hard for me. My belief is that makes you stronger, not weaker. It’s hard to admit.
You write about how people who pursue their passion and follow the money offer one-of-a-kind value customers can’t really find elsewhere. How will your company and stories stand out in the podcast landscape?
Laura and I are only going to do shows where there is some somebody at the center of that show who passionately, desperately believes they need to tell that story.
I don’t have to be that person. In fact, I can't be that person. I joke that we will only be successful when we’re doing shows that neither of us like because we've set up a system where we can engage other people's passions. But it's not a joke.
I’m realizing how much of what I'm saying is really about balancing things. It’s balancing me and balancing the team, balancing an audience and balancing the creator. And that is certainly part of my passion.
This conversation has been edited for length and clarity. The avatar of Adam is from his Twitter page.
Conversation Starters
Image, Alex Simpson via Unsplash
No. Wire. Hangers.
The wire hanger—ubiquitous, unloved. The US produces billions of wire hangers each year. Yes, you read that right—billions. And almost no one buys them.
The average American will add a whopping 68 items of clothing to their bursting wardrobes over the course of a year. Many of these will make a regular trip to the dry cleaners, who are responsible for 80% of wire hanger purchases. Why? Wire hangers are lightweight, inexpensive, and take up little room on a crowded shop conveyor belt.
Wire hangers are “an inescapable part of modern life to which everyone can relate but no one pays much attention,” writes Dan Greene at Vox. They’re also...complicated. 3.5 billion are unceremoniously dumped into landfills every year, which is equal to 200 million pounds of steel. The coating on the hangers makes recycling problematic, and those thrown in the recycle bin often end up shipped to landfills instead.
What might finally free us from our, um, hang-up? Modern life. Casual workplaces and working from home are drastically reducing the demand for dry cleaning, and in turn, wire hangers. Perhaps Silicon Valley is good for something after all.
Image, Abbie Bernet via Unsplash
Are You Feeling Emotion Uncertainty Today?
Scientists believe we have infinite emotions, so the team over at The Cut recently put to words 99 feelings, including one you might be familiar with, Creatiphobia. If that sounds scary, that’s because it is. Just read the definition: “the anxiety that you cannot possibly make another thing.” But wait, there’s hope! The ying to Creatiphobia’s yang is…Creatifiphoria, or the “the heady certainty that what you’re making is brilliant.” We'll even add our own to the list: Emotion Uncertainty, or the feeling of all the emotions at once: I love this! I hate it! It's good! It's terrible. I've got it! Don't got it! We're on our way! We've got a long way to go! We're not giving up! Well, possibly not. We’ll get back to you on that.
/Final Thought
Can’t. Unsee.
(Check out the original tweet here.)