I think the big secret of social life is that everybody loves to make a great introduction. If you can become someone that people love to introduce to to other people, you’re “in the green” socially. Everybody loves to introduce a great hire, romantic partner, friend, co-founder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Talking about this can seem narcissistic (narcissists ruin everything for the rest of us), but I’m happy to risk being interpreted as such because I remember what it was like to not know this, and I wish someone walked me through all of this. Understanding this changes everything<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You don’t actually need to be extroverted, charming, a sweet talker, witty or anything like that. You can be a total reclusive nerd and still reap the benefits of this realization. The one thing you do<\/em> have to be is NOT AN ASSHOLE.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Do you know how powerful “NOT AN ASSHOLE” is?<\/p>\n\n\n\n for eg \u2013 guys, if you treat women with kindness and respect \u2013 especially those who have zero romantic interest in you and\/or vice versa \u2013 and you make a good impression on them \u2013 they will introduce you to their friends<\/em>. it is ridiculously<\/em> powerful. the bar is so low<\/p>\n\n\n\n whenever I work on anything with anyone, the #1 thing I care about is whether or not the person I’m working with will be happy to introduce me to someone else. (I don’t even have to worry about things like compensation at this point, which sounds like a brag but it’s just true<\/em>)<\/p>\n\n\n\n if you know that someone is<\/p>\n\n\n\n you can pretty confidently refer them around even if they aren’t necessarily A+++ performers<\/p>\n\n\n\n I used to hire freelance writers in my previous role, and it’s interesting to reflect on who my favorite writers were, who I would refer to others. it wasn’t necessarily the “best” writers. It was those who “I could work with”, those who didn’t waste my time<\/p>\n\n\n\n I actually didn’t really mind average-ish writing \u2013 I can help with that. I can challenge you to be better. But what I can’t deal with is if you<\/em> can’t deal with being challenged. I actually didn’t even really mind flaky writers who disappeared on me. Comes with the territory<\/p>\n\n\n\n the worst case outcome isn’t a writer who’s average-ish, or a writer who ghosts me. the worst case is a writer who takes criticism too personally, and ends up playing this tedious, drawn-out edit-war game where we both just get tired and frustrated & nobody’s happy<\/p>\n\n\n\n I think this is true for everything! it’s true for dates, it’s true for colleagues, true for friends<\/p>\n\n\n\n if it isn’t a good fit, being able to mutually acknowledge it and move on is actually a good sign. you might even consider referring that person in a different context<\/p>\n\n\n\n I used to be a much more disagreeable person as a kid, arguing for sport & lulz<\/p>\n\n\n\n on retrospect I’m surprised I only lost a handful of friends. I think I did have a kindness under the abrasiveness<\/p>\n\n\n\n but\u2026 why be abrasive at all? it makes your friends nervous & secretive around you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “Looking back over a lifetime, you see that love was the answer to everything.” \u2013 Ray Bradbury<\/p>\n\n\n\n we don’t have to wait that long! we can be loving, nourishing, nurturing, supportive now. everyone is starving for it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n an interesting (and sometimes slightly depressing) test: take a look at your social graph, and ask yourself which of your friends you’d confidently and comfortably introduce to the others. who would you set up on a date with whom? who would you trust to host a dinner party?<\/p>\n\n\n\n