Why prioritize homework when you can build a unicorn at the GSB?
A familiar wave of fatigue washes over me as I look at my long list of to-dos at the end of the evening. Between conducting user interviews, iterating on prototypes, having daily stand ups with my co-founder, and trying to have some semblance of a social life at the GSB, I could only muster so much energy at the end of each day. Let’s pick the lowest hanging fruit — homework it is!
The next morning, my co-founder asked, “Hey, are you done with those promised prototypes?” A pang of guilt hit me. I stuttered, “A couple more days, please?” It made no sense. Starting my own venture has been my dream since I was a child, and now that I am in the perfect place (i.e. Stanford GSB produces three unicorns per 1,000 students, according to research published by Professor Ilya A. Strebulaev) to do it, I’m stalling. My co-founder shook his head: “JY, why do you love homework so much?”
What did he mean? Who loves homework? Not me since I was old enough to write. As I started becoming defensive, it became clear. Homework was what I prioritized every night. Why?
Digging deeper, I realized that most problem sets were well scoped and had clear scoring rubrics. The work I had to do on my pre-product, ill-defined venture is ambiguous and uncertain. I was not shying from work (phew, my inner workaholic sighed in relief), but avoiding uncertainty.
The legendary horror author H.P. Lovecraft wrote that “the oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”
Uncertainty is so vexing that some are willing to accept a worse outcome in exchange for removal of uncertainty. A 2011 study in the journal Behavior Therapy found that anxious people tend to opt for worse odds and lower payouts in a gambling experiment — as opposed to improved odds and more money — if this choice cut down the amount of time they had to wait to find out their bet’s outcome. Was I paying with my future to avoid uncertainty?
Furthermore, unambiguous tasks are easier to complete. The completion of a task releases dopamine, a neurotransmitter responsible for feelings of accomplishment, satisfaction, and happiness. Dopamine multiplies when a student receives positive, almost immediate feedback from the professors. Imagine the wave of pleasure that washes over you when an A appears on your transcript. No wonder I love homework.
All my life, I have lived in a world where I have been given small achievable tasks with corresponding rewards. This continued well into my adulthood, where I had regular reviews and received recognition through promotions at work.
When starting a venture, you are defining success and creating tasks for yourself (and others) in the dark. You are unsure when, what shape or form feedback may arrive in. Often, building something new is like pushing against an insurmountable wave. A small accomplishment can feel like a drop in a bucket, insufficient to trigger the gratification good grades can provide.
Unfortunately, the structure designed in most schools does not allow for a painless transition. At the GSB, we are lucky to have access to experiential classes like Startup Garage, which provide wannabe founders (like me!) a safe space to gain comfort with the uncertainty of starting a venture.
Armed with more awareness about my avoidance of uncertainty, I sought ways to break from this unhealthy loop. I broke my work into smaller, manageable chunks. I reminded my co-founder that I needed constant pats on my back. Validation can feel almost as satisfying.
With homework about to become a thing of the past, I am hopeful that this reflection will remind me that I can be just as comfortable and productive in a world without constant dopamine hits.
