I simultaneously think $40k for a great deck is a steal, and that if you need someone else to make it for you then you’re probably screwed.
The key insight is that pitching a company, or anything really, is primarily a challenge of storytelling. Once I fully understood this, after months of banging my head against a wall, it was like a lightbulb coming on. Yes, making your pitch coherent and look aesthetically appealing can be very helpful. However, what really persuades people is a good story. If you can get the audience excited about what you’re doing, they’ll start to see through your eyes and the hard work is done. From my limited experience, only one of the creators of the Shiny New Thing (company, product, movement, etc.) can figure out the right way to tell that story.
Venkat had a cool Twitter game where he challenged people to generate 100 tweet-opinions on a topic of his choice. Mine was Rich People.
This was fun, and less challenging than I expected. It seems like we are more capable than we think at generating opinions on arbitrary topics. Once I got through the surface level stuff, I surprised myself at some of the ideas I came up with. Most bad, some interesting.
The whole exercise gave me a newfound appreciation for the value of constraints.
P.S. This is my first attempt at another experiment. I’m jealous of everyone’s newsletters, but I don’t expect that I’ll be able to write more than a paragraph or two every week.
So that’s what I’m doing: Weekly 140 words or less. Very lightly edited. Enjoy
If you’re old enough to remember the early 2000’s, you probably have fond memories of your Nokia mobile phone. I had two, even. They once dominated the market for smartphones. At some point, however, they stopped feeling so slick. Nokia phones started becoming an almost-comical foil to the simplicity of an iPhone.
Indeed, their CEO did realize that they were, in so many words, probably fucked. There’s a tried-and-true method to make someone vividly aware of the need to take action. Point out the burning deep-sea oil drilling platform that they’re standing on.
Stephen Elop, CEO of Nokia, in a 2011 memo:
There is a story about a man who was working on an oil platform in the North Sea. He woke up one night from a loud explosion, which suddenly set his entire oil platform on fire. In mere moments, he was surrounded by flames. Through the smoke and heat, he barely made his way out of the chaos to the platform’s edge. When he looked down over the edge, all he could see were the dark, cold, foreboding Atlantic waters. As the fire approached him, the man had mere seconds to react. He could stand on the platform and inevitably be consumed by the burning flames. Or he could plunge 30 meters in to the freezing waters. The man was standing upon a “burning platform,” and he needed to make a choice. He decided to jump. It was unexpected. In ordinary circumstances, the man would never consider plunging into icy waters. But these were not ordinary times—his platform was on fire. The man survived the fall and the waters. After he was rescued, he noted that a “burning platform” caused a radical change in his behavior. We too are standing on a “burning platform,” and we must decide how we are going to change our behavior.
If you want people to be eager to change, paint them a picture of the burning platform. Or so they say. I don’t think it worked for Nokia. Microsoft acquired the mobile phone division in 2013. Nokia’s stock has since lost more than half its value, all during one of the largest bull markets ever.
And so, a former giant was eaten alive by a hip new competitor.
All this talk about burning platforms makes me think of none other than consumer banking. Chase, Bank of America, Citi, etc. Boy, does that platform look smokey. Just like Apple and Google came in and ate Nokia’s lunch, I wonder if the same will happen in the banking world.
You’re already familiar with the relevant trends. We spend more time on our phones than we do asleep. We get frustrated when things can’t be done instantly, through an app. We are kinda pissed at big banks for being complicit in the 2008 mortgage crisis. And boy do we hate fees. No more fees, please.
As a result, we get a bunch of hip fintech brands that give us free checking accounts wrapped in an app. The trends seem obvious, the platform is on fire, and the response is to give people what they want.
It’s not only startups that are jumping in this direction. Every big bank has a hip digital strategy. Goldman Sachs has poured over $1 billion into Marcus. Some of these even have a bit of traction. Maybe it’s just a matter of time before these new, friendlier brands gobble up one of the most lucrative businesses in the world.
On the other hand, if Henry Ford gave people what they wanted, the Ford Mustang would have been an actual mustang. It’s not always clear whether the platform is actually, really, on fire. And even if it is: which way to jump?
The Model T is a great example of an unexpected disruption. Sure, automobiles already existed at the time, but they were a quirky contraption that most people couldn’t see themselves using. The horse was how people got around, and it was hard to imagine a world without the ubiquitous stage coach.
The literary device may be obvious at this point, but I have to spell it out anyway.
What if the consumer bank of the future is really no bank at all?
Sure people will probably need to store their money somehow, and have a convenient way of spending it. This doesn’t mean Dedicated Ubiquitous Financial Institutions are the best way to do that.
Uber launching their new Uber Money product may be the canary in the coal mine. It’s a bank-like service, with a checking account and spending cards, for the drivers. Your earnings are automatically available to you in real-time. This is likely the best “banking” option for an Uber Driver. It will be hard for a non-Uber bank to compete with this functionality. And, I predict they’re not going to stop with checking and cards.
Who’s next? Walmart, Amazon, Koch Industries? And where does that leave Chase?
Most of the time, competing on facts doesn’t work — better, faster, cheaper, etc. I think of this as just throwing features at a problem. You can’t carve out a new spot in someone’s head this way — what a good brand must do to succeed. But sometimes it gets people to act, anyway.
Here’s a potential example that I noticed on a billboard this week:
Walmart is clearly taking a jab at Amazon Prime here. As a Prime member, I’m reminded that I’m paying for that service. It also makes me question whether I really am getting the lowest prices. (It doesn’t matter whether I actually do, the mere act of questioning tarnished Amazon in my mind.)
I’m also immediately reminded of my recent Amazon experiences. These are increasingly negative: mostly issues with having a hard time finding sellers that look trustworthy, fake products, and fake reviews.
Would I switch from Amazon if I was completely satisfied with it? No. I probably wouldn’t even notice this ad. But when dissatisfied with my current solution, what then? A competitor with similar features becomes increasingly attractive.
Why should you care? If you’re building something that you want people to understand and be attracted to, telling the right story is critical. Studying how others accomplish this — both successfully and not — is a great starting point.
Good brands are constantly communicating their message. The most effective ones weave a compelling narrative. A story rather than just a collection of statements. While this is done across lots of channels, for now I’m sticking to analyzing one of the simpler ones: company websites.
A good website gives you just enough space to sell someone on Why. Why you’re worth spending time with, why they should trust you, and why you’re special.
Stripe’s does a pretty good job of communicating a lot without feeling overly overwhelming.
I’m going into this with the knowledge that Stripe provides infrastructure for accepting card payments (debit & credit), along with a few other things that they’ve added recently.
A platform, a toolkit
While they do emphasize the “online payments” aspect in their headline, they don’t say much about it after. That’s interesting… a credit card processing company that doesn’t hammer on about processing credit cards.
Instead, Stripe wants to be seen as a software platform. A collection of tools and services for running internet businesses. Dare I say, an API. This suggests their ambition. Compare Stripe to a payments processing incumbent like PayPal.
Stripe was born a payments company, but they see themselves as much more. What’s the opposite of boring finance? Sexy software.
Not only a platform, but one being used by some of the “world’s most innovative technology companies”. In fact, “millions” of them handling “billions of dollars.” A friendly, accessible tech product that is battle tested.
Nothing to fear
The visual design is careful to feel friendly. The colors are soft, angles and icons are playful, and animations are fun. These all work towards creating a feeling more like a “friendly new tech product” than an “old world finance company” — exactly what Stripe is aiming for. An API that you can play with, not an intimidating financial product.
The copy is wordy, which makes the experience a bit heavier than I would prefer given the rest of the design. Also a bit of a quibble, but I find contradiction between the overall soft playfulness and the sharp edges of the angles in the header.
For developers?
Outwardly, the next screen declares developer-friendliness. Clean, simple APIs to do everything you need, in a variety of languages (as subtly illustrated by the fun animation of the gear icon).
However, the developer friendliness message is a secondary one. This screen starts off with reminders of the innovative companies using Stripe. And this is the second screen.
Stripe’s primary focus seems to be targeting decision makers and product people, but remaining strong enough with devs that they won’t have a problem with the choice.
Ready for the big leagues
Stripe builds up a coherent message that they’re a platform for building an Internet business, and they only need about 2000 pixels. Much of the effectiveness comes from what they do not do. There’s no list of products. Other than mentioning payments, you have no idea what others could be until you scroll towards the bottom of the website (omitted here, for brevity). They don’t throw lists of features at you.
They do present an alluring narrative. They cite the innovative tech unicorns that they support — Slack, Asana, etc. Stripe is telling us: “The most innovative companies are using Stripe, what could be possible in your business if you also used Stripe?”
They’re trying to make a difficult transition here — from startup necessity to a sort of IBM of fintech. Judging by the above screens, my guess is they have no problem getting business from new companies. But, at least for now, the juiciest potential clients are old companies. What they really want is to capture them. And what’s for sale? A bit of that innovation magic, which every older company is desperate for. No other payments processor is offering that.
To recap, we’re analyzing brand messaging through the lens of storytelling. Us humans seem to respond best to narratives. Not coincidentally, the best products (and companies) tell a story: one that captures our attention, is clear and coherent, and leads us from where we are to somewhere else we’d like to be.
What story is this product telling me, does it make sense, and is it captivating? 💡
Right away, the name Robinhood is meant to inspire a feeling of justice and righteousness. If I recall, it was Robinhood that stole from the rich and gave to the poor. By famously offering commission-free trades, Robinhood ostensibly robs from rich Wall St. and gives back to us, ye olde residents of Main St. It fits with the Robinhood green primary color, too. Kinda cool. 😎
Let’s invest in stuff
There’s actually quite a bit going on here, but it’s communicated in a relatively clear fashion. ✅
We know Robinhood is all about investing in stuff, and you won’t have to pay commissions. There’s a whole bunch of stuff we can “invest” in (more on that later). Also, we can do it from our phone or desktop. They both show and tell this, which is great. I’m also not being bombarded with color (just one soft, pleasing Robinhood green), or hyperbole. 😅
The two calls to action are clear: either sign up on the web, or go to the app store.
Also, the logo makes sense to me. My main gripe is with the complexity of the shape: could we do a simpler, more modern looking quill?
On the other hand, I don’t know anything about logo design. Or much about anything else. So there’s that. For the curious, @pieratt says: “Give it a story, As few shapes as possible, Focus on feeling”.
Moving on…
Flying cash cat 💸
Cash management, da fuck? This placeholder is disorienting. I get it, your brand is fun and weird. However, introducing cash management as a new [complicated] concept seems odd when we haven’t even gotten into the core offering: investing.
It’ll be interesting to see how in the future they merge this into their investment story without diluting it into yet another financial institution.
So what about that investing stuff?
Plenty of investment options 😬
Mostly, I like how they bring back and flesh out the investment options listed in the opening section: stocks, ETFs, options, and crypto.
But, the icons are weak. The style is inconsistent, and if anything they highlight the differences between these products rather than making them all feel like investments (the core message).
This is part of my problem with Robinhood. It feels like a stretch to call these all investments. It also feels like a stretch for Robinhood to present itself as a place for investment rather than one for trading. It’s misleading to present options and crypto (extremely risky, high probability of total capital loss) in the same breath as stocks and ETFs (more or less reliable investment vehicles). This hurts the whole brand, for me.
Too easy?
Fine, you provide the tools and let people experiment. It’s being presented in a way that feels simple, easy, safe, etc. But the fact that it really isn’t that safe continues to bug me.
Same with a headline about being commission-free. Yes, I can see the benefit in terms of immediate savings on commissions. But, you see, what ends up killing most budding traders investors is trading too much — buying high and selling low — rather than the associated trading fees.
I’m getting off-topic with this rant, but if I was making a platform with the goal of helping people become better investors, I’d find a way to charge as much as possible in commissions. Make drunk driving expensive and you’ll have fewer drunk driving deaths.
The rest is similar. The messaging is relatively clear and coherent: a powerful investing platform that isn’t complicated — anyone can use this, and learn as you go. The design is relatively simple, fun, friendly, etc. They’re here to help make it easy for you. Overall, given a few visual and messaging quibbles, I give it a B+.
I’ve been diving into product, design, and branding. Creating things is a good way to learn. I’ve also found it helpful to analyze and critique the work of others. I’m going to try doing some of these publicly to see if it’s helpful. I’ll probably stick to companies and products in the approximate territory of fintech and/or real estate, as that is where my current project is focused, but who knows maybe I’ll throw out some curveballs as well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I’m still a total newbie, so please give me feedback. Also, please don’t take my criticism personally! I’m probably wrong about half of this, and everyone has room for improvement.
My frame for analyzing a product/design/brand/UX/etc is one of first impressions: “making sense” of it. What are my main takeaways? Specifically, what story is it telling me and how do I feel about that?
5. Not telling a captivating story.
Good brands get people emotionally engaged. They offer a persona or journey as part of the product — an aspirational version of you.
The first thing takeaway is this is a a product that offers me a way to own a home 🏠. In fact, they claim it’s the best way. Fine. My first question is, what makes it the best?
They immediately respond to this — which I like. The answer is: it’s cheaper 💰. Interesting, but not mind-blowing. Cost is a huge factor when buying/owning a home, obviously, but my first thought after that is “how much less, and what’s the catch?”.
I’m not thrilled about the rest of the copy. I’m being thrown into new ideas right away: accessing my equity and being in control. I haven’t even started thinking about equity yet. Same with control. The fact that these are emphasized make me 1) a bit confused right off the bat, and 2) maybe even concerned. Was there a chance that I’d be lacking control?
All about that money
The next screen dives right into an awkwardly-sized form. Don’t love the visual design here. More concerning, it’s not clear what the point of this is. In the previous screen, I’m being told that “What would I pay?” is next. But what if I miss that, or forget? I need to be reminded here. Otherwise, you’re asking me to do work for no obvious payoff. 😡
But, the story is somewhat consistent. It started with owning a home with a cheaper monthly payment, and now we’re continuing that narrative: this will (presumably) tell me how much lower that monthly payment will be.
Big Savings
A number is what I was hoping for, so this is good. Adding the bit about tapping equity echoes the introduction of “access[ing] your equity” from the first screen. Presumably, they’re trying to transition to talking about how equity works in this model? I would have preferred a more linear narrative 📗. First let’s talk about the main value prop: saving money every month. Then, how this relates to equity. Instead, we’re juggling two big ideas at once.
Let’s pause to digest. So far, I’m associating Haus with owning a home in a way that costs less per month. Saving money is intriguing, but it’s not groundbreaking — even though they say it’s “the best way to own a home”. I’m starting to associate the Haus brand with “same but cheaper”, and this isn’t a great way to be remembered. It’s not unique — any other brand can offer to save me money. I wish they branded off of what makes them special: something something own a home without a mortgage.
2. Branding on facts — features, benefits, comparisons, etc.
"A company can’t “own” its facts. If the company’s facts (speed, price, quality) are superior to the competition, any good competitor will duplicate them, or worse, improve upon them, as soon as possible. " –@Benioff
They then re-emphasize the savings (and tell me why savings is nice: more spending on other things). Followed by telling me more about the equity in a more complex way: now we’re buying and selling equity.
And using equity to pay when I can’t make my payments? It seems like the actual message here is flexibility. This is more interesting than savings — other companies can offer me savings, but flexibility is more unique. If flexibility is their main differentiator, they should have put it first and focused the messaging around that. 😕
I’m going to stop there. The rest of the landing page starts digging into the mechanics of equity co-ownership, with some confusing charts. The worst part? The nav menu has a SELL section. Bros, what does selling have to do with this core value proposition?
Overall grade is a C-
It took me a while to understand that what is really being offered is flexibility. The lower monthly cost is interesting but not unique. Also, it obfuscates the product — you’re not getting the same “thing” as you would at the typical monthly mortgage cost. You don’t “own” the whole home, not right away and maybe not ever.
The biggest difference between a company with everyone rowing in the same direction and disorganized chaos is mission. In the former, the team knows the mission, cares about it, and is executing towards it.
As Scott explained to me over lunch one day in downtown New York City, “I love the idea of every person understanding how their small role aligns with the broader mission. . . . Elon Musk says that you can stop anyone on the SpaceX factory floor and ask them what they’re doing and why it’s important. Someone could be making bolts and you could say, ‘Why do you do it? What’s your job?’ And they’ll say, ‘Oh, I’m making these bolts so that we can have a landable vehicle, because if we do a landable vehicle, then we can get to Mars. And if we can get to Mars, then humanity will da-da-da-da . . .’” When people know where their small part fits in the whole, they recognize how indispensable their work is. They feel more accountable.
The force is strong with this one. Not only is Musk good at helping outsiders believe (see: Tesla’s rocky ride), but he also brings it home with his team. Both inside and out, Musk’s main weapon is preaching his mission. Why are we doing what we’re doing? Why should I care?
Wait. Really, why should you care? Why is it important to have everyone thinking in terms of mission, rather their individual OKRs or KPIs or APIs? Quite simple: Grey.The answer is grey. What? Well, the world isn’t black and white. Every action taken by a team member is in some grey area. There are always tradeoffs. A little bit more performance, slightly higher cost, maybe some vendor lock in, etc. And your team can’t read your mind. Well, they can, if the mission is the summation of what’s on your mind and you’ve drilled it into theirs. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Anyway, imagine a typical gray-area decision. If the team member only understands her part of the puzzle, you may find yourself frustrated with the decision they make. They fail to see the big picture! Why do I have to do everything? Argh. The solution? Well, as you may have guessed: get everyone thinking in terms of the mission. Whenever there is greyness (read: always), they can always look to the mission to resolve ambiguity. Does this get us closer to achieving our mission? Then it’s probably the right move. This is how we get everyone rowing in the same direction.
Oh, and there’s another benefit, perhaps even more valuable. When someone knows why they’re doing what they’re doing, it tends to be more motivating. It’s more meaningful, and often more enjoyable.
When people know where their small part fits in the whole, they recognize how indispensable their work is. They feel more accountable.
A common mistake is only getting “key players” on board with the mission, assuming that will be enough. Well, it’s better than nothing, but expect to be frustrated. The more you bottleneck the knowledge to make good decisions, the slower your organization will move, and the dumber it’ll behave. Do you want to be a Human who relies on their single brain to move their big dumb limbs, or a sleek Octopus who can do eight things at once?
For some reason, I have an octopus tattoo on my arm
So now we know we need everyone onboard. Wouldn’t you love your whole team to care about the mission? Everyone from an executive assistant to the head of sales. Well, it’s possible. Even if your mission isn’t about getting to Mars, it can be done. You need a story about why what you’re doing matters, and you need to repeat that story. For your team to know and care, they need to have it framed from their perspectiveand hear it over and over.
Elon Musk says that you can stop anyone on the SpaceX factory floor and ask them what they’re doing and why it’s important.
This all sounds good in theory, but then you get back to “work” and it falls by the wayside. I know because I’m pretty good at doing that. The hard part? Prioritizing the communication of mission.
To prioritize communicating the mission, you have to make a sacrifice. That means less focus on whatever fires are burning right now. Less focus on your OKRs and KPIs. Less energy spent pushing something that is immediately actionable and measurable. More energy spent on the ephemeral: getting everyone pointed in the same direction and excited about their role in the journey. In the long run, that will probably be the most valuable thing you do as a leader.
What if there was a way to get any conversation into productive territory?
Ideally, you can get someone to not only take a fresh look at their own beliefs, but also take your side on some things. One of my favorite conversational tricks can often accomplish this.
Conversations often come to loggerheads when people adopt a fixed position. “I’m a democrat, being liberal is good.” From there, it’s easy to let emotions and catch phrases drive a discussion. One of the easiest ways I’ve found to break out of this pattern is to take the other person’s position beyond what they are comfortable with. “I understand you are in favor of Universal Basic Income. What if instead of basic, we just give everyone $100k per year? What would be reasons why that would or wouldn’t work?”
The key is to:
Not take it too far, or risk coming off as disingenuous or patronizing
Be concrete enough where they can imagine the scenario
If all goes according to plan, you will both end up thinking new thoughts about the broader topic and likely agreeing on some things that you hadn’t yet.
I like to think of this process as “shaking the tree.” It takes something stale and often dislodges some interesting things. How many conversations have you had that stalled out where a little tree shaking would have gotten you where you wanted to go?
As part of my foray into product and design over the past year, I’ve learned some things. One of them is: typography matters, sometimes a lot.
There’s not necessarily a direct relationship between font and feelings. But, we’re apt to associate certain emotions with a font based on where we’ve seen its characteristics before.
This is a powerful tool for communicating your message.
Below are three simple slides. They are identical except with different fonts for the header. Notice how they make you feel. Which of these Propshops feels more personal, or more technical, or more modern?
