I was always a cat person. Had a cat growing up and three since. I’m allergic to cats, but that never stopped me. I’ve always been fascinated by their agility, night vision and independence. Cats are cool. They have superpowers. They poop in sand, automatically. Cats are magic.

I wasn’t sure about dogs. The first time I met Scout, she tried to eat screws, nails, rocks and other random things. She peed and pooped in the house. She would cry uncontrollably if we left her alone. I was worried.

scout, 2006, 10 weeks old

But Scout changed. She learned what I liked and didn’t like. She potty trained in a matter of weeks. She worked tirelessly to understand the inflection in my voice, what spoken commands led to what desired actions, and of course, what led to treats. She changed herself, like she was trying to figure out how to make me happier.

And just like that, every day for the last fourteen years she’s been there, trying to figure out how to make me happy. She’d sleep by my feet when I worked from home in Oregon, keeping my feet warm during the winter. After moving to California, I’d come home from a long day at work and she’d bark and be the first to greet me. She was an outlet — a reason to go hiking in the hills of the Bay Area, go to the park just to watch her run, or just sit down for a minute and exist quietly while scratching her neck. We’d take her to Carmel for poodle day, Oregon during the summer, and many other places. She was our only child for half of her life.

scout, 2011

And then there were five

Then she had a sister. When we got Junebug, Scout made room for her new puppy sister, graciously accepting her into the family. We’ve never seen Scout act aggressively toward Junebug, and save or one incident in Carmel when she snapped at a Labrador in a pet shop, she’s been an angel toward other dogs too. She had a good soul; an old soul that has been places.

scout, not concerned about junebug

Then we had Ella, and Scout made room for her. Scout was gracious with the kids. She never resented Ella, and watched her grow up to be a fast-paced 7-year old girl. Early on, Scout was always curious about the baby, but just like Junebug she accepted things as they were. Scout was still happy to see me when I got home, and lived each moment with joy.

As a baby veteran, Scout was not phased at all by Ethan. She accepted him too, but another baby meant fewer walks. She didn’t get out as much, and spent a lot of days hanging out with Junebug. Scout took it all in stride. She still met each day with the same energy, and although she was slowing down, you could always see the puppy in her.

Just to complicate things (we like a challenge), Birdie entered the picture. We got a puppy in the middle of the pandemic, in part, so Scout could get to know her. It’s kind of a work in progress. I think a younger Scout would have loved this puppy, but old Scout doesn’t enjoy being constantly harassed by an ankle biting puppy. The whole scene is pretty hilarious, though.

Time flies

Scout didn’t ever need much. She was an easy puppy, very food driven and empathetic, loyal to the core. She was quick to learn, easy to teach, and remembered. She’s probably the lowest maintenance poodle out there. She didn’t need to be the center of our life.

But I do wish I could go back four or five years and do more with Scout. Life has its moments of triage — you can’t be all things to everyone all the time — and we had to figure out how to manage a new baby while taking care of another kid and two dogs. It meant fewer hikes, fewer trips to the beach, and less 1:1 time with Scout — but to her credit, she never seemed to care. She was always happy with whatever we could give.

A decision

When we took a family trip to Truckee, we noticed Scout’s foot was bleeding. What we thought was a corn had grown to double the size, and had broken skin. When we got home, a biopsy returned positive: she had a malignant tumor in her right front paw.

We decided pretty early on that surgery was not a great idea. At 14, Scout’s regular vet was against surgery due to risks of complication caused by anesthesia. We got a second opinion and even they would have us sign a waver acknowledging the high likelihood of death.

And then, even if Scout recovered, she’d be in severe pain. It would require pain meds that would strain her weakened liver. She’d be immobile for some time, and end up requiring rehab/therapy to learn how to cope with her amputated paw.

Scout could manage her tumor for some period of time, and that was a better alternative to radical surgery like amputation. The tumor is right in her paw pad, which would render most of her foot useless post-surgery. Deciding against surgery was the easy part. It was the right decision.

Ups and downs

All things considered, I’ve really appreciated these last few months. With her tumor growing and pain increasing, I’ve spent more time with Scout. Most nights I sleep with her downstairs in the guest bed, side by side. I change her bandages once a day, and I feed her some yummy canned food (the good stuff) every day. We have some great treats for her — I give her those whenever I change her bandages or give her pain meds.

Scout’s been my co-pilot during stay-in-place. Every day, she’s been chilling with her dad in the office. She’s more comfortable down here, and doesn’t have to go up and down stairs anymore. She sleeps most of the day, and has occasional playful moments, mustering energy to bark at her new baby sister Birdie, and she somehow always has energy to beg for handouts.

As I write this, she is playing with Birdie, seemingly fine w/ her pain meds, and barking loudly at her new sister.

scout, looking away in shame

However, in the morning, she will be shaking with pain, and may or may not have pooped a little while sleeping, which she finds really disturbing — she hangs her head in embarrassment when it happens and stands in the corner. Her bandages will need to be changed, and they already smell like death. She is not herself these days more often than not.

Am I a monster for letting her live? Will I be a monster for putting her down in a few days?

While I have cherished these last months, dealing with this duality has been heartbreaking. I’ve cried different kinds of tears.

The end

In four days, we’ll say goodbye.

A vet will come to our house and put Scout to sleep. We’ll all be here with her, she won’t be alone, and she’ll be home — where she’s been for the last ten years.

I made a bucket list for Scout, and she’s pretty much through it. We’re feeding her treats, giving her lots of attention, and we’ll get her some pretty epic meals these last few days.

scout, after her last haircut / spa day

Her last couple of days will be awesome. We’ll take her for her last walk (not far, given her foot), give her an extra pain pill and let her play fetch in the park, and I’ll cook her some home-cooked doggy stew w/ turkey and vegetables.

This is hard. My heart wants to keep her here, string it out, and hold her against me another time. My brain knows it’s time, and I will have to help her die with dignity while she is still mostly herself. As I write this, she’s putting her head on my leg, worried for me because I’m crying.

In four days, we’ll say goodbye.

The lesson

One of the greatest lessons a pet teaches its owner in life is that it ends. I thought at first that Scout spent most of her life changing herself to make me happy. I learned later that we both changed, and we were both better for it.

And maybe that’s the difference between cats and dogs. Cats are a singularity — some change, some play fetch, but mostly they are who they are and you’re along for the ride. Dogs are something else entirely — they are more malleable, more eager to please, and care enough to change. That level of loyalty, from any corner of our lives, is exceedingly rare.

We don’t always choose when or how we go. In a lot of ways, I feel fortunate. We’re lucky to have this time — we know when her last pet, walk, meal, cuddle or bark might be. There is a somber but free finality in it all.

The lesson, I suppose, is that life is fucking short. We need to have the courage to say goodbye and let go, but mostly, we need to have the courage to love while we still can.

scout, and my leg as a pillow

Scout, you were my first dog. Thank you for teaching me about loyalty, responsibility, life and death. I will always love you, and I will miss you so much. Wherever you go next, I hope to find you there.

Also, although it was gross, I forgive you for pooping in the bed.

What Sports Taught Me


On Saturdays or Sundays it’s hard to ignore the masses of SUVs gathering in stadium parking lots — large monuments honoring America’s lack of moderation where we over-feed ourselves with sodium-rich, fat-filled food and crappy beer at a four-hundred percent markup.

Indeed, Sports looks like our modern day gladiator games.  Sports is flawed, corrupt, greedy and vain.  Sports is the downfall of the republic.  How dare you, Sports.  Shame on you, Sports.

But wait: you can’t blame Sports.  It’s us — we made Sports this way.  The money, athletes, and media are too convenient to blame.

Sports is innocent.  I forgive Sports for flopping, Tim Donahey, steroids, and Donald Sterling — after all, those are all human problems.

I forgive Sports because Sports is trying like the rest of us.  Sports has ups and downs, but at its best, Sports is a magnificent teacher.  In fact, Sports is one of my most important mentors, and I want to talk about why.

Sports taught me about pain and anger

2505341415_2eb744d8d9_oSports taught me how to fail, get back up and try harder.  Thanks to Sports, I knew what it was like to get punched in the mouth, hit in the face with a baseball, elbowed in the teeth, sprain an ankle, and keep playing.

Because of Sports, I knew what it was like to get picked last.  I knew what it was like to get cut from basketball teams once, twice then three times before I made them.  I missed game-winning shots and had game-winning shots scored on me.  I learned how to get angry about it, dust myself off and get to work.

The pain and anguish of Sports, learning how to cope with them and overcome them, prepared me for life.  Sports kept telling me to get back up and fight.

Luckily, it became a habit.

There are no home runs, just inches

5286994825_2c3189051e_oSports taught me that what you do between games and in the off-season matters; that luck is the combination of preparation and opportunity.  Sports taught me that winning is about quality of effort and doing things the right way — that you aren’t a winner because of a trophy and there are no shortcuts.

Training, learning, studying and obsessing about your craft is how you excel.  Weekend warriors who waltz into the gym and expect to compete get busted.  Teams who focus on flair, authentic NBA jerseys, selfishness or retro Jordans get whipped.

A formative experience for me was making my high school team.  In my junior year of high school, I was cut from tryouts, second-to-last cut.  The next summer, between my junior and senior year, I was determined to make it.  I refused to get cut again.

For three months, I played for nearly 3 hours a day.  I frequented these courts:

I got my ass kicked every fricking day for a while.  I got made fun of, punched, pushed around, bullied.  I even got picked on for being (well, half) white, which was new.  People made fun of my hair, skin, face, shoes, shirt, school, game, passing, dribbling.  I didn’t listen.  I kept playing.

I grew tremendously.  I ended the summer having changed my entire jump shot, developed my handle, increased my vertical by 8 inches and drastically improved my court vision and quickness.  By the end of the summer I had the nickname “batman” for wearing a tattered Batman shirt with no sleeves and folks wanted to pick me up on their team.

Jump ShotAll of those battles added up over time made me a better player.  I started to win a lot of games, but there was no magical turning point — no home run was hit, no miracles.  Success, for me, was the sum of all the inches I clawed for through countless hours of practice and struggle.

Then, the next fall, I made the team.  I made it because Sports taught me to fight for all of those inches in the off-season and get back up every day.  There was no other way but to grind.  The willingness to grind and the feeling you have after is the stuff success is made of.

Value the journey

My dream wasn’t to become an NBA player, although I did fantasize about it occasionally.  I wasn’t too focused on long-term outcomes, I just wanted to get better.  I learned to value the journey.  When I look back, I miss the sounds, smells, feelings of just being there and learning.  I don’t think about milestones, I think about the little stuff.

There’s the sound of nylon swishes, the musty smell of the gym, the worn bleachers with spider webs and dust bunnies beneath it and the metallic simplicity of the water fountain.  The long nights spent playing 21 or HORSE at Oregon State with my buddy, endless games of 1-on-1 and playing pick-up games until nobody was left.

And there were so many firsts: a no-look pass, a perfect 28-foot shot, pinning someone’s layup against a backboard, dunking for the first time, etc.  All were tiny championships.

In life, I’ve come to learn, outcomes matter but not that much.  Tiny championships matter, or how you do things.  Do you play the right way?  Are you someone a teammate would want to go to battle with in the trenches?  Do you trust your teammates?  Will they back you up in a fight, and you the same for them?  Can you win together?  Can you lose — and lose bad — together?  Can you take feedback from your teammates?

When you start answering yes to those questions, you are winning.  Sports taught me that, and I try to reproduce the same thing whenever I can.  The quality of your journey and how you do things is what you’ll always remember.

Yay Sports

Sports is human.  Sports teaches, heals, unites and fills us with joy.  Sports can also divide, destroy, injure and defeat our spirit.  Sports is like us, and we are what we make of ourselves.  Sports is a reflection of us, for better and for worse, and I’m okay with that.

Sports, you’re alright.  Thanks for everything you’ve taught me.  I’ve got your back.

Two by Two: Trust and disagreement


Trust is the lifeblood of a team. It’s the foundation of Lencioni’s The Five Dysfunctions of a Team. Its absence, more than anything, is why teams struggle or fail.

The absence of trust puts people into a particular state — they tend to agree to decisions but not support them. To name a few examples:

  • Engineers who attend architectural meetings, don’t speak up, then complain about everything afterward
  • Managers who agree to a decision in front of other people then undermine it privately with their team
  • Product managers who acknowledge and agree with technical constraints but push for unreasonable deadlines anyway

Defend trust. No matter how big or small the decision, strive to identify when someone is in this space — and call them on it. If you’re able to do this early and often, you can hopefully avoid other dysfunctions they will inevitably cause.

Two by Two

When it comes to negotiations, people tend to fall into one of four categories:


Agree and Support

This is the easiest thing to do — but be careful when everyone just agrees and supports everything. It’s possible to be too good at this. Huge decisions without proper discussion and friction make me a little antsy.  If everyone agrees with zero resistance you could lack diversity or worse — nobody gives a crap.  Most decisions worth making cause fun and sometimes challenging discussion.

Disagree and Support

This is an example of a professional who has said their peace, weighed the pros and cons and have agreed to support a decision even if they may not personally be super excited about it. People who do this understand what is best for the group — they are able to put their own reservations on hold to give things a try and trust in their teammates.

If you have team members who are able to do this, you’re lucky. Make sure to keep them included and be willing to change if what you’ve decided to try doesn’t work out. Working together with them will make the end result a lot better.

Disagree and Don’t Support

When people disagree and don’t support they are at least transparent about not being able to support something. I respect this. If someone feels that something is fundamentally wrong and will not support it, they can and should say so.

This presents some interesting problems, though: it usually means they need to switch teams or projects — and possibly companies. For their own happiness and growth it is tough to ask someone to stick around and work on something they don’t believe in.

As a leader I try to identify other projects or challenges for these folks — if you can, work out a situation where they can work on something they can support.  If you can’t, then you better make sure the decision is right because you risk losing them over it.

Agree and Don’t Support

This is bad news. When someone agrees then undermines something you have a number of problems:

  • They don’t feel like saying anything will make a difference: for some reason, they didn’t speak up and confront the group with why they felt it was the wrong decision.  Figure out why.
  • The rest of the team will hear why they are wrong on a regular basis: over time, the grapevine will fill up with underhanded comments, “I told you so”, and all sorts of papercuts that undermine what the team is doing.  Aside from the morale impact, this gets in the way of iterative progress and productive failure.
  • Say goodbye to personal growth: if it goes on long enough, this person will eventually be ignored or marginalized by the rest of their team.  As a manager, if this happens, it’s your fault.
  • It could ruin your team: the ultimate consequence is the erosion of trust within the team — for each other, for you, for the person.

Get ahead of it. When you see someone in this place, talk to them about why and ask them why they are not able to support the decision or at least talk about it with the team. That may get you on the right track. If too much time has passed, though, you will probably have to move them.

Have Backbone

Whatever challenging decisions you face, have backbone. It’s my favorite of Amazon’s leadership principles:

Have Backbone; Disagree and Commit

Leaders are obligated to respectfully challenge decisions when they disagree, even when doing so is uncomfortable or exhausting. Leaders have conviction and are tenacious. They do not compromise for the sake of social cohesion. Once a decision is determined, they commit wholly.

When you are open, honest, challenging — even when it hurts or might be inconvenient — it means you have the courage to fight for what’s right.

And when the time to talk is over, you have to prove yourself again by committing to the decision you have made as a team. When you can do this, you have the trust and respect you need to succeed together.

Joining Etsy


I’m starting my fourth week at Etsy and riding the train North to SF. I wanted to take a minute to talk about my first few weeks and what lies ahead.

Plug: If you’re interested in joining me, ping mmorgan at etsy or visit

Etsy is a tribe

In the Seth Godin sense of the word, Etsy is a tribe:

A tribe is a group of people connected to one another, connected to a leader, and connected to an idea. For millions of years, human beings have been part of one tribe or another. A group needs only two things to be a tribe: a shared interest and a way to communicate.

You might think this applies to just employees, but I’ve learned that Etsy is a large, interconnected network of awesome people — including crafters and leaders in the community — who care about a common mission. I think this is awesome.

What is that mission? It’s any number of things:

  • To redefine commerce and make it human again
  • To connect makers with their customers in a direct way
  • To give people with skills a fair marketplace so they can prosper

There are many ways to state it, but for me, the important part is this: we are trying to make the world a better place through technology. That’s what I love doing, it’s what makes me happy.

After a few weeks, I’m certain: This is my tribe.

For more on Etsy, I highly recommend the annual report, which is a good example of transparency in practice.

The world needs companies like Etsy to succeed

My time at Mozilla taught me that the sum of small conscious choices like what browser we use can create enough momentum to change an entire ecosystem. Likewise, how we choose to engage the economy around us is a small but pivotal decision we all make on a daily basis.

Missions like these seem daunting and ambitious at first. They require faith, passion and a stubborn optimism. It’s not a lighthearted we’ll get there someday — it feels more like a we must do this because someone has to. Over my first couple of weeks, I could sense it in Brooklyn.

On a personal note: As a father, I’d love to see Ella grow up knowing where — and who — things come from; to be able to learn about how things are made and maybe even meet the people who built them. I’d like for her to care about the people, quality and values behind what she buys and how it affects the world.

I’d like to make those things more possible. I feel like someone needs to.

This is only the beginning

The beautiful thing about tribes, missions and making the world better is there really is no limit to how far you can go when you have a group of highly motivated, talented people. Etsy is a great company that is already making a difference — but it’s really just the beginning for both of us.

The world, it turns out, still needs improving. Together, we have a lot of work left to do.


Principle based hiring: focus on what matters


tl;dr: know which principles matter to your team, and pursue them ruthlessly in engineering candidates.

You’ve probably heard this before: Hire good people and get out of their way.  Problem is: hiring is hard because “good“ is so subjective.

If you put principles at the center of your hiring process, “good” becomes less subjective.  It breaks down like this:

  • People provide value in many ways
  • The value someone provides is based on a number of principles
  • The goal of interviewing is to determine if a person represents the right principles for your team

Focusing more on principles has helped me change habits.  Over the last ten years, I stopped:

  • Weighing too much of my evaluation on one question
  • Asking gotcha or weed-out questions
  • Using the same exact questions for every candidate
  • Avoiding time spent on intangibles

And, as a result, I:

  • Had more fluidity in my questions, tailoring them to the candidate
  • Asked more open ended questions with a goal in mind
  • Spent more time on intangibles that mattered to my team and company

This post is meant to be a conversation starter about how to approach principles in hiring.  I’d like you to consider how they apply to your hiring process — to your team — so you can make hiring enjoyable and successful.

Data is not enough

To understand how people provide value, we often start with data. When we evaluate resumes and candidates, there are the usual suspects:

  • What school someone is from, what degree or GPA
  • How well they answer a pre-formed set of questions
  • What companies they worked for
  • How many years of experience they have

These are all important, but it is possible for someone to look and sound great and still not be a great fit.  When this happens, it’s possible to see:

  • Role confusion: you learn over the first six weeks that a candidate is not as experienced as you thought. Maybe they are struggling with projects someone in their role should be able to handle, or maybe they take too long. Worst case, they just can’t get the work done when you needed someone who could. Now you have a problem.
  • Poor mutual fit: this is reflected by motivation and morale. When a candidate’s motivations and principles don’t line up with the team they joined, you can have unnecessary conflict or a lack of motivation in the team as well as in your new hire. This is hard to fix.
  • Turnover: when you have a mixture of bad mutual fit and improper skills for the role, you will end up with turnover — either for your team or for the company.  The best case is you find another team that fits the hire while the worst case is you have to let someone go.  Either one is very expensive to yourself, your team and the individual.
  • Declined offers: the thing about being shallow in your hiring is that intelligent candidates know it’s happening. Your company is judged based on the kind of interviews you do and what questions you ask. If you seem mechanical in delivery or process, it’s easy to spot, and it’s easy to pass on it.

Why does this happen? Because raw data does not tell you enough about someone’s principles. For example, you can’t tell if someone has a life-long passion for building things based on what school they went to or how they answer your FizzBuzz interview question.

Aside from being soft on principles, question-based or score-based regimens can actually promote “maybes”.  For example — if you had a 4-point scale, what do you do with a 3 out of 4?  What about a 2.5 out of 4?  Or do you only hire 4′s?  How do scores map to solid decisions?

Mapping data onto principles

Data is important, just not enough. You can give data more purpose and value by mapping it to principles.

Consider the SAT. When someone takes the SAT, their score matters, but by itself it is not the best indicator of potential or success.  When schools evaluate potential students, they aren’t just looking at SAT scores — extra-curricular activities and demonstrated leadership matter as well.  Why?  Because universities don’t just want smart people — they want successful people.

The SAT maps to fundamentals.  Using the college example, consider these mappings:

  • SAT score: is this person smart enough to learn (the SAT)?
  • Extra-curricular activities: does this person have the ability to manage their time?
  • Leadership in the community: does this person have good emotional intelligence?
  • Course selection and diversity: does this person have a passion for learning?

The SAT is just one piece of the puzzle for a college to determine if someone is smart enough to learn.  Likewise, for engineers, there are many data points.  Here is how they might map to principles:

  • Past experience, personal projects, open source contributions, portfolio, hobbies, github activity: Does this engineer have a passion for building things?
  • Blogs, conference talks, books written, references: Does this engineer understand things well enough to teach them?
  • Specific projects, real-life examples, mistakes made, attack vector exercises: Does this engineer think about security day-to-day, or do they just read about it?
  • Syntax, code questions, sample code: Is this engineer as good at [language/framework/area] as they claim they are?  Do they have what we need?

Mapping data onto principles clarifies why data is important.  This leads to clearer, more confident hiring decisions — people adhere to principles or they don’t.  If they don’t support the principles you value, you don’t hire them.

Subsequently, discussions in round-ups or debriefs should be focused on whether or not an engineer meets the right principles, not how well they answered a particular question.

Customizing for the role

Once you’ve covered some of the engineering basics it makes sense to focus on a particular area.  Depending on your team, this could mean distributed computing, front-end optimization or application security — or something else.

One of my favorite questions is around front-end optimization.  I’d ask, “What are your best practices for front-end engineering?”

  • Simple enough, but what do I really want to know?
  • What they can build, but also how they build things.
  • Does this engineer build things the right way?
  • Has this engineer actively improved the way they build things?
  • Does this engineer follow standards?
  • Does this engineer suffer from not-in-house (NIH) syndrome?

Those types of answers are hard to measure and not found with your typical algorithm or FizzBuzz questions.  If you don’t get to answering these, you’ll never quite be sure about someone — or as sure as you’d like to be.

For me, the best thing about this question is that it’s simple and flexible.  I can always remember this question, there’s no right answer, and it’s open ended enough to let me take it wherever I need to.  I can dig deeper on technical details or dig deeper on direct experience — whatever I need to do in order to get at the engineer’s principles.

What kinds of domain-specific questions would matter to your team?  How would you like an engineer to build things?  How would you get that out of your short time with them?

Final word

If all else fails, try to understand:

  • What kind of person are they?  Would you want to work with them? How do they handle feedback?  Are they a good person?  How do they work with a team?
  • What can they build?  Do they build teams, products, libraries, utilities or cultures? What do they _love_ to build? Do they do it in their free time?  Could they build your product?
  • How do they build? What are their engineering philosophies?  What are their best practices?  Did they help define them?  Do they actively improve these over time?
  • How do they approach metrics?

If you understand these about your team, you can intentionally look for candidates whose principles line up with yours.  When that happens, you have a situation where your candidate is more likely to be successful. I’ve seen this work time and again, and it leads to stronger performance, better culture and higher retention.

You’ll notice some trends here:

  • These aren’t simple questions to answer.  You need all sorts of data and directed questions in order to form an answer.  There is no silver bullet question.
  • They are very hard to quantify.  Intangibles and other things that matter usually are hard to define or measure.
  • It’s not something you apply a point scale to.  People practice a principle or they don’t — there is no ‘try’ or ‘sort of’.

And that’s why interviewing is an art.  Your data and questions are all signals, but in the end, what allows you to really make sense out of it is what your principles are and how well the person you’re talking to practices them.

Remember: It’s hard to hire good people and get out of their way if your definition of good is flawed.  Know which principles matter to your team, and pursue them ruthlessly.

2013: The year in pictures


I’ve taken a lot of photos over the past years — about 60,000. One of the cool things about being a photo nut is being able to look back and remember the moments you’ve had.

Capturing time and memories is one of the powerful things about photos. So many things come back to my mind just from a photo: sounds, smells, feelings, lighting, people, laughter and music.

So here are five of my favorites from 2013. I wanted to share a little about why they are special to me and how I shot them. If you’d like to look through more, I’ve created this set for 2013 on flickr.

1. Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia


Tucked away near the gothic district of Barcelona lies this old church. The photo was taken near the entrance, hand-held, with a 16-35mm f/4 lens. Settings: f/4, 16mm, 1/25s

Why I love this photo:

  • Contrast of colors. The lighted dome represents purity and sanctity, while the area below is dark, dirty and imperfect. Not sure how to put it, but the contrast between the two makes my eyes happy — like pizza for my eyes.
  • Symbolism of the architecture. To me, the photo symbolizes the struggle of man and the difference between who we strive to be and who we actually are.
  • The size of the place. The cathedral was enormous, and I couldn’t imagine how hard it would have been to build it back in the 14th century.
  • Gargoyles.  The outside is littered with gargoyles, and I remember going on the roof to see the city from the top.  The wind was crazy, but it was worth it.

2. Sagrada Família

sagrada família

This photo of Sagrada Família, Barcelona’s most famous landmark, is one of many I shot while in Barcelona. I shot this particular photo with an 85mm 1.4/f, handheld. Settings: f/2.8, 85mm, 1/100s

This photo reminds me of a spaceship. It is the canopy above the main altar. The inner dome is littered with very ornate decorations and bathes the altar in sunlight. It looks like something from another world — something man couldn’t possibly have built.

3. Point Arena Light

point arena light

The Point Arena Light is a lighthouse in a pretty remote part of northern California, about 100 miles northwest of Point Reyes. It sits on a thin peninsula overlooking the Pacific Ocean. This picture was taken from the very top of the lighthouse, handheld, with a 16-35mm f/4 lens. Settings: f/4.0, 16mm, 1/60

This picture reminds me of our last trip before Ella was born. It was the last time we’d take a trip with just us — Jaime, the dogs and myself. It was a time to think: about being a father, of the changes to come. And, yes, a little bit of worrying and convincing each other things would be okay. Luckily, they would be.

4. Hopes and Dreams


Ella was born on May 12, 2013. It was the happiest day of my life. She was born with dark blue eyes and black hair. As she grew, her hair turned light brown and her eyes turned a lighter shade of blue, getting even lighter in the middle. This photo was taken with a 105mm f/2.8 macro lens. Settings: f/4.0, 105mm, 1/60s

This photo reminds me of how I feel about Ella, sure, but it also represents how I feel about time. Ella, pictured here at about 5 months old, has an entire lifetime ahead of her. So many things to do, so many firsts and a world of possibilities before her. What fits in a lifetime is overwhelming — and she’s just starting.

When I look at this photo, I think about all of the things she will experience in her life. My hopes, her dreams — I hope she is fortunate enough to live well and reach her dreams.

5. A Place to Sit


I started my new job on August 19, 2013. After nearly 10 years at Mozilla, which included the Firefox 1.0 launch and many different milestones, I joined Box. This is a photo of a bench at a ranch house in Santa Rosa. I was at a team off-site with engineering leaders, and it was the first time I really got to know some of my peers. It was taken with my trusty 16-35mm f/4, hand-held. Settings: f/4.0, 35mm, 1/200

I sat in this chair for a bit earlier that morning thinking about my life. I thought about the folks I left behind at Mozilla — there are so many memories, and I will always cherish them. I thought about my new colleagues, what was to come and my future at Box. I sat in that chair, between two worlds: the world I came from, and the world I was joining. I felt nostalgic, but after a while two feelings surfaced above all others: I felt lucky and grateful.

What a Year

Among other things, we had our first child, I changed jobs, I went to Europe for the second time, I officiated a wedding and said goodbye to my uncle Craig. It was a full year — a year of change, love and diapers.

To all of you who have helped me along the way: thank you. Let’s make 2014 just as awesome.

If you have time, check out my entire 2013 set.



Every once in a while, if you’re a manager, you’ll find yourself in a massive meeting with other managers talking about performance evaluation.  If you’re lucky, it’s only 2 hours.  If you are growing fast, it might be 2-5 hours.

Either way, you’re probably asking yourself: what is the point of these meetings?! Well, the goal of these meetings is to make sure you recognize accomplishments consistently across your org.  Before you scoff at it, consider what might happen if you didn’t:

  • A worker in another group might get a higher rating with half the work (or, via poorer quality of work)
  • Some teams or managers would promote unfairly or too quickly
  • Workers would reach positions of importance without the competence needed to succeed at that level

Consider the Law of Crappy People from bhorowitz:

For any title level in a large organization, the talent on that level will eventually converge to the crappiest person with the title.”

I consider this to be true — we tend look at the level above us, find the crappiest person, lean back and exalt, “WTF — I’m better than Billy!!!  He can barely tie his shoes.  If that guy is a Level 70 Unicorn, I should be a Level 70 Unicorn.  Ugh!”

Two things:

  1. Don’t limit yourself by comparing yourself to the worst.  Instead, compare yourself to the best person at the next level — or better yet, the best damn engineer/designer/whatever at the company.  I think it’s self-defeating to adopt an obsession with titles and get wrapped up comparing yourself to the worst person with a title/level above yours.  It’s not a great way to make progress.
  2. Calibration and consistency is critical to morale.  Because we all tend to do this anyway, calibration and consistency in gauging performance is critical.  If the worst person at a given level is _really bad_ it demoralizes people bit by bit, one day at a time.  That’s why it’s important for managers to have this meeting — to make sure we get treated fairly and consistently.

At Box, we take care of people and we handle calibration well — it’s one of the reasons I’m proud to work at Box.  My hope is that if you work somewhere where managers don’t do this you should speak up — and push for change.  The adverse side effects of not handling calibration are devastating.

Being a Dad


Hopes and Dreams

How could I feel so much love for this little person I’ve never met?

I asked myself that when I first held our daughter.  Ella turns six months old tomorrow and I get the same strong, inexplicable feeling when I hold her.

The first time I met Ella, I cried.  I hid it well, but I cried.  Mostly, I smiled.  My cheeks hurt.  My heart swelled.

From the first day, I liked to watch her sleep.  As I watch her dream, I am in awe of the stark contrast between Ella and what amounts to a lifetime of experiences yet to come.  A clean slate, new beginning and sheer, utter innocence.

I envy her — I wish I could see the world without judgement or analysis.  To see things for what they are is a gift a grown man like me isn’t capable of.

What is to come?  Crawling, walking, first words, solid food (stinkier poops!) and so much laughter.  I hope to see her learn to ride a bike, throw a ball, swim, play music and run around in circles for no reason.  I want to be there.  I get to be a kid again, and I will be her sidekick.  Yes!

Before Ella was born, I spoke about how liberating being a father would be for me.  I was ready to be a dad because I was tired of focusing so much energy on things that didn’t matter.  I had to let go.  I would have someone else to take care of.  My own worst critic just got a lot busier with someone more important.

She freed me.  I was able to breathe.  In a way, she’s saved me from myself.

There are moments where Ella stops and looks up at me, almost to say, “hey Dad, you’re silly.”   In that moment, not a whole lot else matters.

Not the apathy of politics, the pain and misfortune in this world, the environment, chores, work, video games.  My faults, insecurities and baggage — it all melts away, like the crowd to a stage actor in the spotlight.  All wiped away — for that moment — by a smile, sound or touch.

Being a father is great, better than expected, and I try hard every day to just to enjoy it.  I try to see and accept these moments for what they are — nothing more, nothing less. Life is simpler, happier now. I have Ella and Jaime to thank for that.

Leadership is simple and simple is hard


It’s been a while since the last time I wrote a summary of what I had learned about leadership. This post is about some of the general concepts I’ve picked up along the way — partially so I have them written down, mostly so I can share them.

Mind you — there’s no panacea to be found, just guidelines. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I just try to absorb as much as I can.

Management philosophy: lolwut?

A common question I get from folks: “What is your management philosophy?”

My first response to this question is to ask if you think management and leadership are related, mutually exclusive or complimentary. If I had to boil it down, leadership is your ability to motivate people. Management is how well you execute. I’ve also heard that management is doing things right while leadership is doing the right things.

However you define these, I don’t see how you do one without the other. Lean too far in one direction, you’re a babbling prophet with great intentions. Lean too far the other way, you’re a lonely, walking and talking autobot. Both are undesirable fates not meant for humans.

Let’s just say I strive for competency in both and always will.

A useful list of stolen wisdom

I still need to answer the question, which leads to a discussion about non-hierarchical empowerment. I don’t think leadership or management philosophies have a 1-minute elevator pitch, though.

To answer in long form, I constantly draw on a series of idioms, quotes and principles I’ve accumulated over time. Some of them I have borrowed permanently from other leaders, and I’ll link to sources. Others are just things I say all the time. Let’s run through these:

  1. Start with the why, ask questions about how and the what takes care of itself
  2. Hire great people and get out of their way
  3. An engineering team isn’t an assembly line — and shouldn’t be run like one
  4. Success is the quality of one’s effort
  5. The only time I’ll get mad at you is when you don’t try
  6. Look for humility and faith — without those, you have nothing to work with
  7. Know where people want to go and help them get there
  8. Push power to the edges, and find a way to have decisions happen where information is
  9. Work is like improv
  10. No assholes!
  11. Does this have to be said by me? Does it have to be said now? Does it have to be said at all? (Mike Shaver/Mike Beltzner/Canada)
  12. Listen like you’re wrong, fight like you’re right (John Lilly)
  13. Don’t whine, don’t complain, don’t make excuses (John Wooden)

No, you won’t find this stuff in textbooks

Being asked about management and leadership so many times last summer made me realize my answers seem obvious. Five minutes into spewing statements like the above and it sounds “textbook”. I actually got this feedback once after an interview. To that, I ask: what textbook? I’d like to read it.

The truth is you won’t find the answers in just one book. They are all over the place. Many of these concepts are relatively simple or common sense, but most books, blogs or articles work hard at uncovering an undeniable truth:

Simple is really, really hard.

iPhones, web search, airplanes, TCP, cars, 4GLTE — if you look around we are surrounded by amazing, complex things we take for granted. Do you realize how amazing it is that we can fit 40,000 vinyl records into our pocket for less than the cost of a television? Is it easy to give people access to data anywhere they are? Hell no. Simple concepts, impossible delivery.

Management and leadership both have many simple concepts that are difficult to handle. They can be harder than deterministic systems because people are difficult. John Taffer (from Bar Rescue – love this show) always says, “I can fix bars, but I can’t fix people.”


If all else fails, watch this:

And this:

Inspiring people sounds easy but it’s damn near impossible to do unless you believe in what you’re saying. The hardest part of being a leader is putting yourself out there — to be humble, vulnerable but confident all at once. While you do that, you have to constantly fight your urge to take over, take full control. Because leadership is not about power or control, it’s about creating an environment. That is what makes you a vehicle for your mission or idea. That is what makes you a force people are inspired by. Simple, right? Right.

Simple, but really, really hard.

Change is Good


Having a child sure changes things. So does leaving your job after about 10 years of service. Naturally, I decided to make life interesting and tackle both at the same time.

Tomorrow I’ll be joining the engineering team at Box. Box is aiming to change the way people work and communicate — I’m excited about joining a great team and culture. It’s going to be awesome; even Ella is excited:

Ella in her new gear

So how have I spent the last two months? Well:

  • Watching Ella grow up way too fast
  • Traveling to Oregon, Yosemite and Mammoth
  • Riding my bike
  • Turned 35
  • Took time to reflect on my time at Mozilla, including replying to all of the emails I got when I left (I will miss you folks!)
  • Playing basketball and softball
  • Catching up with old friends
  • Finally getting around to finishing Torchlight (I & II)
  • Reading up on some tech and playing with some koans

It’s been a great summer. Living in the moment, being able to focus on just being a dad, cherishing this rare time in Ella’s life with Jaime by my side has been a blessing.

Now it’s time to get to work, which will be about building things and having fun doing it.

Change is good.