-
Smoke Screen
The Big Oxmox advised her not to do so, because there were thousands of bad Commas, wild Question.
-
Outcome Based Hiring Is Leadership, Not Paperwork
Most job descriptions still look the same: a company bio, a role summary, tasks, requirements, and, on a good day, pay and benefits.
It’s a clear structure and it works for assistant level roles. But for any role that carries ownership, and no founder wants a team without ownership, this structure leaves out the one thing that matters most: outcomes.
When we hire only with tasks or responsibilities, we unintentionally set the tone for micromanagement. We define the “how” before we’ve even met the person we hope to trust with the role. We position ourselves as the strategists and our team as the doers, skipping the most important part of leadership: defining what success actually looks like.
Outcome based hiring changes that.
It forces clarity.
It attracts candidates who believe they can achieve what is being asked.
It creates space for people to bring their own thinking, their own process, and their own ownership.It is how you build a team that scales without pulling you back into the details.
This doesn’t mean tasks have to disappear because day to day examples help candidates understand the flow of the role. But they should support the outcomes, not replace them.
The balance looks like this:
• Be honest about the actions the role requires.
• Be even clearer about the results that matter.
• And let the right people show you how they will deliver them.
-
Entrepreneurship Isn’t Rowing Harder: It’s Knowing When to Hand Over the Oars
Lake Bled looked effortless. But I bled sweat and tears.
This week in Slovakia, I visited Lake Bled with a friend. People were gliding across the water, smiling, and rowing with one hand like they were born for it. I told my friend, “Let’s rent a boat. I’ll row, I’ve got this.” The fact was, I’d never used a rowboat before—but how hard could it be?
Turns out, very hard. The oars were stiff, the boat barely moved, and I kept zigzagging across the water like a drunk duck. Halfway to the island, my arms were already aching. After what felt like an eternity—but really was only twenty minutes—we landed on the island. I was ready for a break.
But the break didn’t last long, because we had to return the boat. My friend offered to row, and I heard myself say, “No thanks, I’ve got this.” Somewhere, deep in my brain, I believed that accepting help made me weak.
I grew up with a strong mother who carried her own suitcases and fixed things in the house herself rather than asking for help. That mindset shaped me. So I rowed. And rowed. And rowed. A sweaty mess, water running down my back, trying to prove something no one was asking me to prove.
That’s when I realized: this is how I used to lead Gorilla Stationers in the beginning. Doing it all. First in, last out. Trying to earn respect by powering through everything alone. Believing that, as the boss, I had to look strong and prove it was my business.
It took me a decade to understand: entrepreneurship isn’t rowing harder—it’s knowing when to hand over the oars while still owning the journey.
