Thursday, 7 May 2026

Talking To Yourself Isn't Crazy. It's One Of The Most Underrated Mental Tools You Have.

For most of my life, I assumed talking to myself was something I should hide. You catch yourself muttering in the mirror, narrating your to-do list out loud in the kitchen, rehearsing a difficult conversation in the shower — and the cultural reflex is to feel a little embarrassed about it. "Don't let anyone catch you doing that."

Turns out, the people who do this regularly might be quietly running one of the most effective self-regulation hacks the human brain has.

The Research Nobody Told You About

Ethan Kross runs the Emotion and Self-Control Lab at the University of Michigan. He's spent the better part of two decades studying what he calls "the inner voice" — the running monologue that lives in all of our heads. His research, summarized in his book Chatter, lands on something counter-intuitive:

The problem isn't talking to yourself. The problem is how you talk to yourself.

Specifically, Kross found that when people refer to themselves in the second or third person — "Kumar, you've got this" instead of "I've got this" — three things happen, measurably:

  1. Cortisol drops. Stress hormones decrease within minutes.
  2. Performance under pressure goes up. Public speaking, hard conversations, high-stakes decisions all improve.
  3. Problem-solving gets clearer. People give themselves better advice than they give themselves when stuck in first-person rumination.

He calls this self-distancing. Stepping back from your own experience just enough to look at it like you'd look at a friend's problem.

Why Speaking It Out Loud Matters

Thinking and speaking aren't the same thing.

Silent thoughts loop. They're vague, emotional, half-formed. You can spend forty minutes "thinking about" a problem and emerge with nothing because your brain was just churning the same anxiety over and over.

The moment you say it out loud, three changes happen:

  • It has to become a sentence. Vague dread turns into "I'm worried this client will churn next month." That alone is half the work.
  • You hear it. Auditory feedback engages a different processing system than internal thought. Your brain reacts to your own voice the way it reacts to someone else talking to you — which means you can actually consider the statement instead of just being inside it.
  • It externalizes the load. Journaling works for the same reason. Once a worry is outside your head — on paper, in the air — your working memory frees up.

This is why people who narrate their work out loud often code faster, debug better, and make fewer mistakes during complex tasks. Rubber-duck debugging is a real engineering technique for a reason.

The Founder Angle

I run a company. Most days I'm shifting between four or five completely different contexts — an Amazon listing crisis, a new hire decision, a tech product roadmap, a cash flow question, a sales call. Each one demands a different mental model.

What I've noticed — and what Kross's research backs up — is that talking to myself is the cheapest possible context switch. Walking from one room to another, narrating "okay, we're done with ops, now we're thinking about hiring," is doing actual cognitive work. It's flushing the previous frame and loading the next one.

It's also the cheapest possible therapist. A two-minute monologue while making coffee, where I literally say "Kumar, what is actually bothering you right now?" — out loud, second person — surfaces things that hours of silent worrying never would.

When To Worry, And When Not To

The line between healthy self-talk and something concerning is actually pretty clear:

Normal and healthy:

  • Narrating tasks
  • Rehearsing hard conversations
  • Venting and problem-solving
  • Motivating yourself
  • Processing emotions out loud
  • Running through plans before executing

Worth paying attention to:

  • The voice feels like it isn't yours
  • You're hearing responses you didn't generate
  • It's replacing, not supplementing, human connection
  • The tone is consistently cruel and you can't stop it

The first list is just thinking with your mouth open. The second list is when it's worth talking to someone.

The Practical Takeaway

If you already do this, stop being embarrassed about it. You're not the weird one — the people who don't do this are missing a tool.

If you don't, try the smallest version: next time you're stuck on a problem, walk into a room alone and describe the problem out loud, in second person. "Okay, you're stuck on X. What's actually the blocker here?" Two minutes. Watch what happens.

The most useful conversations of my week are usually the ones I have with no one in the room.

Inspired by Ethan Kross's work at the University of Michigan and his book Chatter: The Voice in Our Head, Why It Matters, and How to Harness It.

Wednesday, 6 May 2026

Code Is Cheap. Taste Is Expensive.

Cat Wu runs product for Claude Code at Anthropic. Her team ships features in a day. Not a sprint. Not a week. A day. And she just told Lenny Rachitsky something that should rewire how every operator thinks about building right now: the cost of writing code has collapsed, and the skill that matters is deciding what to write.

That is the entire shift. Everything else is a consequence of it.

For two decades, product management was a coordination job. You wrote PRDs, aligned partner teams, negotiated quarterly roadmaps, and shipped a feature every month or so. The work was slow because code was expensive. Teams needed four months to build a thing, so a PM spent four months making sure the thing was worth building.

That calculus has inverted. When a feature can be stood up in a day, the bottleneck is no longer engineering capacity. It is taste. It is knowing which of ten thousand GitHub issues is worth touching. It is knowing whether the current model can actually pull off the feature you are imagining, or whether you are shipping a broken promise.

Wu's own team operates on a rule worth stealing: ship almost everything as a research preview. Brand it clearly as an early idea. Tell users it might not survive. This one framing move reduces the commitment to a feature from "we shipped it, we own it forever" to "here is a draft, tell us what works." Commitment becomes cheap. Feedback becomes the roadmap.

If you are running an agency or a D2C brand or a tech platform, steal this verbatim. Half the reason your team ships slowly is because every release is treated as a marriage. It isn't. It is a first date.

The second thing worth sitting with: Wu openly says the PM role and the engineer role are merging, and Anthropic is hiring engineers with product taste over PMs who cannot ship. Designers on Claude Code write frontend code. Engineers take an idea from Twitter and turn it into a working feature by lunch. The PM job survives only as a multiplier role for people who can already build. The pure-coordinator PM is a dying species. Operators who cannot at least drive a coding agent are about to be priced out of their own product.

The third lesson is the one that hits the hardest, and it is buried under all the talk of velocity. Wu calls it the last-mile rule. Building 95% of a feature is the easy part. Pushing it from 95% to 100% — where it actually works for users every time, not just in the demo — is the entire job. Most teams ship half-baked features because the model fails five percent of the time, and now you have a broken process that you half-trust, which is worse than no process at all. Either put in the elbow grease to push it to 100%, or do not build it. The middle ground is the worst place to be.

Watch Amazon sellers and D2C operators doing this weekly. They build a half-working repricer, a half-working ad bidder, a half-working review responder, and then spend more time babysitting the automation than they saved. Wu's point is simple: the last mile is the entire job. Skip it and you have bought yourself technical debt dressed up as productivity.

There is a deeper layer under all of this, which is how Anthropic itself moves. Wu said that if Claude Code failed but Anthropic succeeded, she would be happy. Teams trade off against one another openly because the mission sits above any product line. That clarity is why the company ships a feature a day across a dozen surfaces without tripping over itself. It also explains some decisions that looked weird from outside — like sunsetting features built for old models because the new model makes them unnecessary. You don't carry around scaffolding that was put up to compensate for a previous model's weakness; you assume the next model will close that gap and you build with that future capability to catch up. Code review was exactly this — attempted for two years, only launched when Sonnet 4.6 could actually catch bugs.

If you are building for today's model only, you will be blindsided every quarter when a new model changes what is possible. Build for six months from now. The model will eat your harness for breakfast, and the things you scaffolded around to compensate for its weaknesses will quietly become unnecessary. That is the point. Remove the crutches. Keep the scaffolding honest.

The one-line takeaway: stop coordinating, start shipping. Stop prototyping, start using. Stop pretending 95% is done.

The bar moved. Your roadmap should too.

Source: Cat Wu on Lenny's Podcast

Tuesday, 5 May 2026

Create. Spread. Kill.

Every brand on Amazon moves through three phases. Most never get past the first.

1. Create space for yourself

You don't enter a category. You carve a hole in it.

One keyword. One use case. One price point. One thing you can own before anyone notices you exist.

This is not about being everywhere. It is about being undeniable somewhere.

Most brands skip this. They launch wide and show up as the fifth-best option on twenty keywords. Fifth-best is invisible. Fifth-best dies.

Create space first. One inch of territory you fully own.

2. Spread yourself

Once you own one thing, you expand from it.

More ASINs. More variants. More keywords. Every search a buyer might run should eventually surface you.

The customer who searched "study lamp" should also find you when they search "reading lamp," "bedside lamp," "LED desk lamp," "table lamp for office." Same brand. Different doors. Same shelf at the end.

You stop being a product. You start being a presence.

This is where the flywheel turns. Each ASIN feeds reviews into the brand. Each keyword feeds ranking into the others. Spread compounds in a way a single-product strategy never can.

3. Kill the category

Most brands don't believe this phase is real.

It is. We did it with table lamps. Nobody comes close. The category isn't competitive anymore. It is ours.

Killing the category means you hold the #1 BSR. You also hold #2. And #4. And #7. Half the search results page is you. Buyers stop comparing. They just buy.

Competitors can't catch up even when they try. Your review base is too deep. Your ranking is too entrenched. Your data on what sells, at what price, with which images, in which season — they don't have it. You do.

This is the endgame. Not market share. Market ownership.

The order is the strategy

Brands fail when they confuse the phases.

They try to spread before they create. They try to kill before they spread. They go wide and shallow and get drowned out.

There is no shortcut. There is only sequence.

Create first. Spread second. Kill third.

The Year You're Off By

Dario Amodei thinks there's a 90% chance we get a country of geniuses in a data center within ten years. He says it in public, with a straight face. He will still not buy a trillion dollars of compute.

The CEO who believes — really believes — that his own product is about to become the most valuable thing in history refuses to place the bet his conviction implies. Not because the compute isn't available. Not because he can't raise the money. Because if the revenue curve slips by one year, Anthropic dies.

This is the economics of certainty-of-utility in plain sight. Believing the payoff arrives is cheap. Believing when it arrives is expensive, and it's the only variable the check-writer is pricing.

Attach yourself to an exponential. But budget for the year you're off by.

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=n1E9IZfvGMA

Sunday, 3 May 2026

Diffusion Is The Product

Diffusion is cope, Dwarkesh tells Dario. The word's become a buzzword — a way to wave off AI progress when the model can't do the thing yet. Dario, who you'd expect to agree, doesn't. His position is sharper.

The model being smart isn't the constraint anymore. Procurement is the constraint. Legal review is the constraint. The 3,000 developers a CIO has to roll it out to — that's the constraint. Claude Code is the easiest enterprise sale Anthropic has ever made. It's still slower than selling to a Series A.

The capability curve and the diffusion curve are two different exponentials, and the second one is the one your business actually lives inside. This is why implementation is the moat, not the model. Anyone with an API key has the same intelligence. What they don't have is the workflow, the buy-in, the change management, the person who can tell the model exactly what to do by Thursday.

If the model is the raw material, diffusion is the product. Sell that.

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=n1E9IZfvGMA

If She Likes You, There Are No Rules


The Two States

There are only two states a woman can be in with you.

She likes you. Or she doesn't.

There is no third option. There is no "working on it." There is no "she's coming around." There is no "give it time." Time is not a strategy. Time is what you spend while the answer is already decided.


State One — She Likes You

If she likes you, there are no rules.

  • She'll make time when she has none.
  • She'll cancel plans she shouldn't cancel.
  • She'll reply at 2 AM.
  • She'll drive across the city for you.
  • She'll forgive the things she swore she'd never forgive.
  • She'll bend in ways her own friends will tell her not to bend.

The same woman who is hard, busy, principled, unreachable to the rest of the world — soft, available, almost obedient with you.

Not because she's weak. Not because you tricked her. Not because of some "technique" you read on the internet.

Because she likes you. That's the only reason. That's the whole reason.


State Two — She Doesn't Like You

If she doesn't like you, there is no access.

  • The texts go unread.
  • The calls go unanswered.
  • The plans never land.
  • Every small ask becomes a negotiation.
  • Every gesture is read in the worst possible light.
  • Every effort you make is filed under "trying too hard."

She will be polite, maybe. She will be civil, maybe. But behind the civility, she will quietly make your life a living hell.

And the cruelest part — she won't even feel cruel doing it.

To her, it's just admin. To you, it's the whole year.


What It Is Not About

This is not about charm.
Not about looks.
Not about money, status, gym, gifts.
Not about a six-figure job, six-foot height, six-pack.

None of it.

Those are inputs. The output is binary.

She likes you, or she doesn't.


What Men Do When They've Already Lost

Stop trying to win the argument.
Stop trying to be reasonable.
Stop trying to "communicate better."

Reasonable doesn't unlock the door.

Reasonable is what men do when they've already lost.


The Whole Thing

Either she likes you —

— or you're managing a problem that has no solution.

That's it. That's the whole thing.

Friday, 1 May 2026

Claude Code Was An Accident

Claude Code is now the most-copied product in AI. Every frontier lab has built one. Every VC has funded three. Anthropic didn't set out to build it.

What happened, per Dario: early 2025, he told the team "models are good enough now — experiment with using them on your own work." Someone wired up a CLI. Internally, everyone started using it. The name was Claude CLI before it was Claude Code. At some point Dario looked around and said: this has product-market fit inside the building. Let's launch it.

The interesting thing isn't the origin story. It's the filter. Anthropic only ships products where they're the customer. "We didn't launch a pharma company because we don't have the resources to know what we'd need." That's the whole test.

Most product decks answer the wrong question. They ask: is there a market? The better question is: are you in it? Because if you're not, you're guessing at everything a real user would feel in five minutes.

Build what you use. Launch what you can't stop using yourself.

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=n1E9IZfvGMA