Discomfort Avoidance

May is Asian Heritage Month in North America, which makes it a good time to talk about the bamboo ceiling.

You cannot turn left and turn right at the same time. Eastern and Western value systems are optimized for different paths to outcomes. One is optimized for harmony. The other is optimized for constructive tension.

Neither is right or wrong. But they can be incompatible. The bamboo ceiling can be the visible symptom of that incompatibility. But I don’t think it is always the root cause.

The deeper issue is often discomfort avoidance. And that is not uniquely Asian. Discomfort avoidance is human nature. It is just more pronounced when you are navigating incompatible systems.

I was born and raised in the East and have spent my entire adulthood in the West. The breakthrough came when I became more comfortable with discomfort. It unleashed the full potential of what I could do. I started doing things I never thought I could do as a young adult.

That is when my cultural bilingualism became an unfair advantage rather than a limitation.

Disagreement became contribution. “No” became something to explore. Speaking up became leadership. Growth, leadership, and influence live on the other side of discomfort.

I wrote more on this in my latest Substack post here.

Downside. Edge. Upside.

Upper Bound has become one of my favourite annual trips.

This year, more than 11,000 AI geeks and aspiring geeks gathered in Edmonton. I had the chance to give a main stage masterclass called Calculating Risk, Maximizing Upside.

Many people are perceived to be risk averse. Over the years, I have discovered that they are not really risk averse. They just do not have a good framework to help them understand how to take risk in order to achieve outsized outcomes.

That was the heart of my talk.

The best bets are not fearless. They are bounded, advantaged, and asymmetric.

Or, in three words:

Downside. Edge. Upside.

I wrote more about the framework on my Substack here.

P.S. I was also on the Winning with Responsible AI panel at Upper Bound. More thoughts on that in a separate post.

Unleash the Full Potential of Scientists and Their Innovations

In the past few years, I have been spending much of my time with researchers, professors, and deep tech founders sitting on remarkable breakthroughs and asking a difficult question:

What does it take to turn this innovation into a world-class company?

That question has become central to how I think about this chapter of my life.

This month marks the fifth anniversary of the Wattpad acquisition in 2021. That milestone naturally invites reflection. I am deeply grateful for that chapter and everything I learned from it, but I have 100% moved on.

Why?

Because I have even more fire in the belly for what comes next.

People sometimes ask me: Do I miss operating? Why am I doing this now? Why not just start another company and do it all over again?

Those questions all lead to a deeper one:

What does winning look like for me now?

For me, winning has always been about impact. Of course, many other things matter too. But without impact, I am not interested.

That has not changed.

What has changed is where I believe my experience is most useful, where I can have the highest-leverage impact, and what kind of challenge I feel most drawn to now.

I have no interest in simply repeating the last chapter. I have already co-founded and led one iconic company that reached 100 million users globally and became a cultural phenomenon. Fewer than two hundred companies in the world have achieved that 100-million-user milestone. Even fewer founders have stayed for the full marathon, from the first user all the way to a home run.

Rather than taking it easy, I want a new and even more ambitious challenge.

I have come to believe that one of the most important challenges in deep tech today is helping scientists and deep tech founders cross the very difficult bridge from scientific and engineering breakthrough to building a world-class company.

That is the work I feel most drawn to now. It is also work I feel unusually prepared for.

I started three companies. Between them, I have seen almost every major founder outcome: one VC-backed failure as CTO with tons of very stupid mistakes, one bootstrapped company as CEO with a small exit, and one VC-backed home run in Wattpad as CEO.

From the outside, Wattpad looked deceptively simple. In reality, it became an incredibly complex global business spanning consumer, enterprise, subscriptions, virtual goods, social media, frontier technology, traditional publishing, entertainment, and even geopolitics.

We were one of the pioneers in UGC and mobile, before the iPhone even existed. Over time, Wattpad also became a deep tech company. We started building our first of many proprietary machine learning models around 2013, long before most people had even heard of AI. That shaped how I think about technology disruption and how real technical innovation becomes an enduring advantage.

I also lived through strategic investors, IPO preparation, multi-bidder acquisition processes, the constant need to disrupt and reinvent ourselves, moments when tech giants were clearly trying to kill us, and a few phoenix-from-the-ashes moments.

I do not say any of this to dwell on the past. I say it because seeing that many startup permutations from the inside gives you a massive toolbox of practical judgment and wisdom.

Those tools were built and tested through real-world operating experience from day one, scaling a business into a world-class company while enduring the full roller-coaster ride.

You learn them by starting a company when the market is not ready. You learn them by doing things no one has done before. You learn them by making painful mistakes. You learn them by carrying a company through long periods when it is working, but not yet obvious. You learn them by navigating the transition from prototype to product, from product to business, from business to company, and from startup to an enduring world-class venture.

That sequence matters deeply in what I do now, because very few people have lived it end to end: a breakthrough is not yet a product. A product is not yet a business. And a business is not yet an enduring, world-class company.

The bridge between those stages is turning innovation into product and then commercializing it. That is where many promising breakthroughs fail. Not because the innovation is weak, but because turning groundbreaking innovation into a world-class company requires a different set of skills and judgments: timing, technical moat, customer need, business model, smart capital, team building, endurance, and grit.

You need to understand how all of the pieces connect and work together to build a world-class company.

I now know what I did not know.

That belief sits at the center of how I now spend my time. My mission is to unleash the full potential of scientists and their innovations by helping them become entrepreneurs and build world-class companies.

That, more than anything else, is what this chapter is about for me.

That is also part of what makes TSF distinctly TSF.

We are not trying to be a generic early-stage fund. Across our whole investment team, without exception, we bring together a combination that is very rare in venture globally: deep technical chops, real-world operating experience, scar tissue from world-class company building, and a mission-driven commitment to helping scientists and technical founders build enduring, world-class companies. We are also proven full-cycle investors with the experience of backing multiple companies of exceptional scale.

To me, TSF is not simply an investment platform. It is one of the highest-leverage ways I can apply what I have learned to make the greatest impact.

Building one iconic world-class company is hard. Leveraging that experience to help build multiple world-class companies may be even harder.

That is the challenge I want.

The next chapter started four years ago when I stepped down as Wattpad CEO, and I have been building into it ever since.

I am entering this next stretch with a lot of fire in the belly and 100% commitment. For me, that is what winning looks like.

P.S. Don’t forget, I am moving from Allen’s Thoughts to my new Substack: recoveringceo.substack.com.

While I will continue to post here for the time being, please take 30 seconds to subscribe to my new Substack, A Recovering CEO’s Thoughts by Allen Lau.

I Am Moving

Allen’s Thoughts is almost a decade old.

I have been writing blog posts for well over a decade, first at Making Things Out of Nothing, and then here at allensthoughts.com on WordPress.

I moved to WordPress because I wanted more control. WordPress is open source. I can host it myself. I can DIY. I am not at the mercy of any one platform.

But, like everything, there is a tradeoff.

Running my own WordPress site means I also need to invest time and effort to keep it modern, secure, and working well. And when time is my most expensive commodity, I have to admit that Allen’s Thoughts could have been better maintained.

More importantly, I want to spend my time sharing my thoughts, not maintaining the plumbing.

So, over time, I am moving to Substack: recoveringceo.substack.com.

I will continue to post here for the time being. But if you are a subscriber here, please take 30 seconds to subscribe to my Substack as well.

Thank you for being part of my journey. I look forward to engaging with you soon on A Recovering CEO’s Thoughts by Allen Lau over on Substack.

Five Banana Lessons

My last post — Stop Supplying. Start Owning. — was one of the most engaging posts I have published in recent weeks. One part of that talk that I did not go deep enough on was the banana analogy.

I have been using this framework in talks for some time now — most recently at the Engineering Deans Canada annual meeting in Winnipeg, and before that in a keynote at York University’s Schulich School of Business on a related but different topic: “Think like an owner”. I think this analogy deserves its own post.

So for this Sunday morning, something a little lighter. Just five banana lessons that I think apply whether you are a student figuring out your first job, a founder building a company, or an investor trying to understand where value actually lives.

Yes, I went bananas — but not in a way you might think. It all starts with a monkey.

The Setup

Jack Ma once said: if you put money and a banana in front of a monkey, the monkey takes the banana. It does not know that money can buy many bananas.

I love this analogy. On the surface, it is a simple observation about short-term versus long-term thinking. But the more I have sat with it — through three companies with well over a thousand employees across three companies, two exits, and now as an investor in over 60 companies — the more I think it contains an entire philosophy of value creation.

Here are the five lessons I have drawn from it.

Lesson 1 — Cash Is Better Than a Banana

Jobs are bananas.

People grab them because a steady salary and job security feel safe. And they are not wrong to. A banana feeds you. It is real. It matters.

But a banana feeds you once. Cash — real ownership, real equity, real stakes in what you are building — feeds you many times. The problem is not that people value jobs. The problem is that too many people never stop to ask whether there is something better in front of them.

Recognizing that alternatives exist is the first step toward creation and ownership. Most people never take that step — not because they lack ambition, but because nobody ever put the alternative clearly in front of them.

Lesson 2 — Some Bananas Are Better Than Others

Not all jobs are created equal.

Some opportunities teach you, compound your skills, put you inside exceptional teams, and give you proximity to how great companies are actually built. Others keep you comfortable but stuck — including, surprisingly, many high-paying jobs at large, slow-moving organizations.

The number of jobs created is not a useful measure of prosperity. The quality of those jobs — and what they teach, and what they lead to — is what matters.

When I was early in my career, I worked at Delrina, one of the most successful Canadian tech companies of the 1990s. The company grew from 20 people to 800 in four years when Eva and I worked there. We learned more in that rocketship environment than I could have anywhere else. That was not a banana. That was a greenhouse banana — rare, valuable, and 100% worth seeking out.

The lesson: be deliberate about which banana you grab. Not all of them are the same.

Lesson 3 — A World-Class Banana Tree Is Better Than a Banana

A banana feeds you once. A tree feeds you forever.

This is where the shift from employee thinking to founder thinking begins. One banana is a salary. A tree is equity, ownership, and compounding returns on something you built.

Ownership compounds. Wages do not.

The number of jobs created is still the wrong KPI. A single world-class company — owned, scaled, and defended — creates more durable economic value than a thousand comfortable jobs at organizations that will be restructured, acquired or hollowed out over time.

Do not just own the banana. Own the tree.

Lesson 4 — A Banana Farm Is Better Than a Tree

A tree is better than a banana. But a farm is better than a tree.

Dole, a company valued at just over $1 billion and one of the most recognizable fruit brands in the world, does not just grow bananas. It operates a vertically integrated business — owning farmland, managing logistics, controlling supply. It works with over 8,000 independent farmers who supply it. Those farmers are good at what they do. But they are suppliers.

Participation as a supplier is not enough. Ownership of the platform — the farm, the infrastructure, the system — is where the compounding really begins.

Even “the number of trees” is the wrong KPI. It is the farm that matters.

Lesson 5 — A Store Is Better Than a Farm

This is the one that tends to land hardest in a room.

Even Dole — a billion-dollar company, one of the most recognized brands in its category — is a tiny supplier to the giant retailers that actually own the customer relationship. Walmart. Costco. Amazon. These are the stores. They do not grow bananas. They sell them — at scale, with leverage, owning the customer from end to end.

The store owns the customer. The store sets the rules. The store captures the value that flows through the entire chain. Needless to say, many of these stores are an order of magnitude more valuable than Dole.

This is the lesson that I applied at Wattpad. We were not just a reading platform. We owned the direct relationship with five million writers and one hundred million readers, with virtually no external dependencies. That end-to-end ownership is what made us defensible.

Amazon Kindle tried to kill us — not once, but multiple times. They launched product after product specifically designed to compete with Wattpad. Not only did we win every battle, we won the war. A clean sweep. It is rare for a company our size to take on Amazon Kindle directly and come out on top. Owning the full chain — the writers, the readers, and the relationship between them — is what made that possible. I will save the full story for another post.

True prosperity means owning the whole chain — from innovation to commercialization, from suppliers to customers. The number one KPI is ownership. Jobs follow capital, innovation, and commercialization. Not the other way around.

Why This Matters Beyond Business

I have shared this framework in many different rooms — with founders, with students, with engineering deans — and it lands every time. I think it is because the banana lessons are not really about business. They apply broadly to how we think about our lives.

Yes, the framework is useful in a business context. And yes, it is useful in an investment context. But it also applies to personal decisions, career choices, relationships, and how we spend our time. Are you grabbing the banana in front of you because it is comfortable and familiar? Or are you asking what the tree looks like? What the farm looks like? Who owns the store?

The mental model you build early about what success looks like shapes every decision that follows. Most people never stop to interrogate it.

Do not just grab the banana. Ask yourself what the tree looks like. Then ask what the farm looks like. Then ask who owns the store.

That is where the real value lives — in business, in investing, and in life.

If you missed the post this is a follow-up to, you can read Stop Supplying. Start Owning. here: [Link]

Stop Supplying. Start Owning.

Canada has a paradox that I have been talking about for a long time.

We are home to most of the world’s AI godfathers. We have Nobel Prize winners, world-class researchers, and some of the most respected engineering schools on the planet. Those institutions attract exceptional students from around the world. And in turn, Canada trains some of the best engineering talent anywhere.

Yet an increasing number of those graduates — now approaching 80% — leave after convocation.

With them go the startups they might have built, the economic value they might have created, and the wealth that could have stayed here. We all know the largest and most valuable companies are technology companies, and they are based in the United States. Many of them were co-founded or led by Canadians.

It is a story of could have been, would have been, and should have been.

I was recently invited to speak at the Deans of Engineering Conference in Winnipeg. I want to share the core of what I said, because I think this conversation matters well beyond that room.

The root cause is not what most people think

The easy explanations are talent, capital, and policy. We hear them constantly. They are not wrong, but they are not the root cause.

The root cause is a mindset.

Clearly, we do not have a shortage of ambition or ability. One fundamental issue stands out — yet very few people talk about it, let alone address it. We have collectively learned to think like suppliers, not owners.

Without the owner mindset, we unintentionally and subconsciously optimize for producing great talent for other countries, rather than building a stake in where that talent goes and what it creates.

This is the supplier mindset made visible.

Let me illustrate with a banana

I use a banana analogy in my talks because it makes the concept concrete.

If you put money and a banana in front of a monkey, the monkey takes the banana. It does not know that money can buy many bananas. That insight comes from Jack Ma, who used this analogy to compare the mindset of someone who grabs a job versus someone who builds a company.

Jobs are bananas. They are real, they matter, and they feed people. A banana feeds you once. Cash feeds you many times.

But the lessons go further.

A banana tree is better than a banana because it can feed you forever. Ownership compounds; wages do not. A banana farm is better than a tree — because participation as a supplier is not enough; ownership of the platform is the real prize. And a store is better than a farm, because the store owns the customer relationship and captures the value that flows through the entire chain.

This is the progression from employee thinking to owner thinking. From banana to store. From grabbing to owning.

Canada has been grabbing bananas

Let me make this concrete with two examples — one personal, one national.

The Wattpad calculation. When Wattpad was acquired for US$660 million, the headline was a Canadian success story. And in many ways, it was. But here is the number nobody talks about. By the time of the acquisition, roughly half of the company was owned by Canadians. When the deal closed, about US$330 million in economic value left the country — because we had raised capital from outside Canada to build it.

Wattpad’s annual payroll was roughly US$30 million. Not small. But compared to the acquisition price, it is a fraction. Ownership creates far more value than employment. Jobs matter. Entrepreneurship matters. But nothing compares to owning world-class companies.

The auto industry analogy. Many people say Canada has a strong auto industry. We do not. We have a strong auto supplier industry. That is not the same thing. Our auto suppliers — collectively — are worth a fraction of GM, Ford, or Toyota. They build the factories, employ the workers, and take on the operational risk. When the EV transition stalled, the suppliers’ brand new facilities went quiet. When the majors slowed production, the layoffs rippled through.

The supplier bears the downside. The owner captures the upside and sets the rules.

And when the Canadian government went to attract EV investment, what did we do? We signed deals to become suppliers again — subsidized by Canadian taxpayers, while the ownership, brand, and margin stayed elsewhere. We took the risk but not the profit.

This is the supplier mindset at a national scale.

The question nobody asks clearly enough

Here is the hinge question: what does winning actually look like?

The supplier mindset and the owner mindset do not just lead to different outcomes. They lead to completely different definitions of winning.

If you are a supplier, sending your best researchers to OpenAI is a win. You produced world-class talent. Mission accomplished. That belongs in the annual report.

If you are an owner, that is a loss. You invested in that person for years, and you ended up owning nothing. The outcome looks identical from the outside — a brilliant Canadian thriving on the world stage — but the two mindsets score it completely differently.

Until we agree on what winning actually means, we will keep celebrating losses as victories.

Where the mindset gets formed

Here is what I have come to believe: the supplier mindset is not learned on the job. It is learned in school.

The mental model a student builds about what success looks like — a FAANG job offer, a US grad school acceptance, a signing bonus from a company they can brag about — is set before they ever enter the workforce.

In the US, building a unicorn startup is Plan A. Getting a job at Google is Plan B. In Canada, getting a job at Google — or going to the US — is Plan A. Building a startup, let alone a unicorn, is often not even in the equation.

That quote is from a world-class Canadian AI scientist who is now at a US company. It landed hard when I first heard it, because it is accurate.

The deans are the front line

I said something direct to the room in Winnipeg that I want to say here too.

The founders of most of Canada’s future tech giants are sitting in engineering classrooms right now. The deans who lead those schools are the single most underleveraged force in Canada’s innovation economy.

Here is why this is also in the deans’ own interest. If their students build world-class companies and keep them here, those companies will forever be associated with that school. That is a legacy that compounds for decades. The next crop of students is inspired by the tech giants that exist. Right now, leading universities outside of Canada are winning that recruitment battle — not because their engineering programs are better, but because the companies their graduates built are more visible, more celebrated, and more aspirational.

Think about OpenAI. It was co-founded by a University of Toronto alumnus. Most people associate it with Silicon Valley.

That association is not fixed. It is a choice, made one graduating class at a time.

This is not only about encouraging entrepreneurship

I want to be precise here, because there is a version of this argument that deans hear all the time and that I think misses the point.

Many engineering schools already encourage entrepreneurship. Hackathons. Incubators. Pitch competitions. These are necessary. But they do not define what success looks like. And in a strange way, encouraging entrepreneurship is still a supplier mindset — we are producing entrepreneurs for the ecosystem and hoping something sticks.

The real call to action is different. It is to start and scale world-class companies here in Canada.

That is a higher bar. A different ambition. A fundamentally different culture to build. It means celebrating the founder who builds a billion-dollar Canadian company with the same institutional pride as the researcher who wins a Nobel Prize. It means changing what the school defines as a win — not only placements, publications, and patents, but also companies that stay, scale, and own their category.

The window is now

I have saved the most important point for last.

We lost Game 1. Canada invented modern AI. The most important AI companies are almost all based in the US. That window has closed.

But Game 2 is underway. Quantum computing. Robotics. Physical AI. Space. Advanced manufacturing. Smart energy. Just to name a few. Canada has deep roots in all of these — world-class labs, exceptional researchers, and early-stage companies that are genuinely competitive.

Here is what is different about Game 2: you cannot pack up a quantum computing facility or a robotics lab and move it to San Francisco. Unlike software, the physical infrastructure is sticky. The talent clusters around it. The companies that emerge will be rooted where the labs are.

And the ground-level signal I am seeing is genuinely encouraging. I have never met more professors and researchers who want to start companies — and who want to do it in Canada. That is new. That is meaningful.

The conditions are finally aligned to address the root problem, not just the symptoms. But the only trophy that ultimately matters is homegrown, world-class companies. And we can only win Game 2 — and ultimately the championship — if we build the owner mindset now, starting with the people who shape how the next generation of engineers think about what success looks like.

Addressing the supplier mindset and turning it into an owner mindset can create the domino effect that turns Canada’s bragging rights into lasting economic wins.

That is the game we can win.