Know Your Role, Do Your Job: The Risks Of Wearing Too Many Hats
Luke Nosek knew he’d regret getting involved with Powerset, but the value of his regret—and there would certainly be a specific dollar amount—was currently unknown.
Nosek was a VC—a venture capitalist.
His job was simple:
Meet entrepreneurs.
Evaluate them and their ideas.
Give money in exchange for equity.
Then he’d meet more entrepreneurs.
If you were to examine Nosek’s calendar, you’d see his priorities clearly revolved around meeting entrepreneurs at coffee shops, restaurants, bars, and occasionally his office.
Nosek had been successful executing the three-step formula in his role as a VC. In the preceding years, Nosek counterintuitively invested $20MM in a struggling rocket company whose rockets kept blowing up.
So why did Nosek invest the money?
Because he had invested the time to get to know the founder, his expertise, and his plan to build rockets that would, one day, not always explode.
The company was SpaceX.
The $20MM investment for four percent of the company was later worth more than $1B.
Time, not capital, was Nosek’s primary constraint.
This was why the Powerset situation concerned him.
Powerset was a company he had invested in. The CEO had recently quit. The employees were disorganized and afraid.
Nosek felt the urge to get involved, despite knowing his role was to meet founders and give them money, not replace founders and run their companies.
Months later, Powerset was acquired by another firm. The hundreds of hours Nosek invested barely earned his firm six figures.
The opportunity cost—what he could have been doing had he not been sucked into the Powerset whirlwind—was significantly higher than $100K.
While Nosek was playing the role of CEO, two firms emerged. Both were funded by Nosek’s competitors. You’ve probably heard of them.
Facebook and Twitter.
Candidly explaining these historic missed opportunities, Nosek said, “I was just too busy and I never ended up meeting with those people.”
Your missed opportunities are surely less obvious and less public. But after nearly 3 years of the all-hands-on-deck, everyone-wears-a-lot-of-hats-around-here management of your business, it’s time for immediate change.
All hands are not needed on the deck.
Pick one hat.
Consider the past few years valuable cross-training.
Cross-training is good.
Cross-doing, however, is bad.
Quit doing other peoples’ jobs.
Focus on your own.
Cannot even remember what your job is?
Are your goals ill-defined?
Are your key activities that drive results unclear?
Are you busier than ever firefighting while your calendar is blank?
I get it.
Take a deep breath.
Shut your phone off.
Remember what it’s like to think . . . thoughtfully.
What are you trying to do and how are you trying to do it?
As curmudgeon/leader Bill Belichick would say:
Know your role. Do your job.
There’s a reason your left tackle doesn’t get to occasionally act like a wide receiver and run a fade route. Your quarterback will get killed and you’ll lose the game.
Quit doing your boss’s job.
Quit covering for your colleague.
Quit making excuses for your direct reports.
You want more accountability around here?
Channel your inner Gandhi and be the change you wish to see in your world.
If you’re in sales leadership and you’re managing the paving of the new parking lot, hiring new CDL drivers, and fixing the old routers . . . stop.
You’re not in Operations.
Or Human Resources.
Or IT.
If you’re not completely focused on sales, who is?
If you’re an executive and you’re booking your own travel, reviewing change order invoices from the drywaller, and spending evenings catching up on emails . . . stop.
Hire an assistant already.
Delegate more to that promising Project Engineer.
Forget inbox zero (that’s a stupid idea anyway).
If you’re not passionately focused on improving your culture, who is?
Be a curmudgeon.
Be a leader.
Know your role.
Do your job—and trust your colleagues will do theirs.
Focus on your goals, your people, your customers, and your time management intentionally dedicated to all three.
Your calendar reflects your priorities.
How often could you have candidly said, “I was just too busy and I never ended up meeting with those people.”
Time, not capital, is your primary constraint.
You’re not in survival mode anymore.
But if you don’t change now, you may soon be once again.