The book in three sentences

1. Written as a private journal by the Emperor of Rome, the most powerful man of his era, who never intended it to be read, Meditations is an honest leadership manual, a daily practice of self-correction, perspective, and discipline that has survived nearly two thousand years.

2. Three ideas keep showing up, page after page: the people around you shape who you become, you can find stillness anywhere if you train your mind, and death isn't a threat, but a reminder to pay attention.

3. Not a book of advice, but a man arguing with himself to stay good, present, useful, and his honesty and vulnerability make it timeless.

Why I Picked It Up

I first came across Marcus Aurelius while visiting museums around the world, where tour guides often referenced his power and his meditations. Once stoicism picked up steam in Silicon Valley, I returned to his character through quotes from Ryan Holiday’s Daily Stoic until the name became unavoidable.

At work, every time I bring up stoicism with senior leaders, Meditations is the first title they reference, and even though most haven’t read it fully, they all respect what it represents.

Think about that for a moment. We have the personal thought journal of the most important man of his time. The Emperor of Rome, writing to himself, never expecting anyone to read it. And nearly two thousand years later, executives in boardrooms are still citing it. Together with the Gospel of John, Meditations feels like one of those evergreen pocket books I can always come back to.

I read most of it on my long flight from Warsaw to Japan for my 30th birthday, with a physical copy in hand and a pen for underlining. These were the three things that stayed with me:

1. The Leadership Manual Hidden in Book One

2. Discipline Equals Freedom

3. The Stoic Growth Engine

The Leadership Manual Hidden in Book One

The entire first book of Meditations is unlike anything else in philosophy. It’s a gratitude list. Marcus Aurelius, the most important man of his time, opens not with grand ideas, but by naming every person who shaped him — and what specifically he learned from each one.

From his grandfather: composure. From his mother: generosity and simplicity. From his tutor: to mind his own business and never listen to gossip. From Rusticus: to read accurately, not settling for the general idea. From Apollonius: to make decisions independently instead of depending on chance. From Maximus: self-control, dignity, and cheerfulness under adversity. What struck me most was how specific the attributions are.

His exercise motivates us to take note of and praise those who shaped our lives and careers.

Craig Sullivan, who taught me that no design survives first contact with users.

Bart Bobrowski for being mindful of what we test when building product.

David Sanchez for his lessons on prioritization when the juice is worth the squeeze.

Mike Funderberk, who cross-pollinated hospitality into how business is done.

David Gouray, who contextualized leadership as the one who provides clarity of vision, foresees the steps ahead and considers how the next generation should look.

Nick Kisberg, the CEO I most admire, who I learned to be an advocate for the aggregation of marginal gains.

My father, who guided my youth through example, looked back each day, being sure the very best was done.

And for all the mentors I never met, but got their guidance through their written thoughts, the giants I don't get tired to stand in the shoulders.

We rarely pause to map those debts. Marcus Aurelius did it as his first act of philosophical reflection, which tells you something about his priorities: before you can lead others, acknowledge who led you.

One line I underlined twice — the Alexander the Platonist lesson about not overusing the words “I am too busy.” No one should shirk the obligations due to society on the excuse of urgent affairs. I think about this one often.

Discipline Equals Freedom

The middle books of Meditations are where it shifts from gratitude to daily combat, Marcus arguing with himself about how to think, how to act, and how to stay grounded.

The passage I keep coming back to is from Book Four: you don’t need a beach house or a mountain retreat to find peace. You can retire within yourself at any moment. Nowhere can a man find a quieter or more untroubled retreat than in his own soul.

I love this one because it creates an internal contradiction with my own life, the Think Week ritual, where I force myself outside my routine to get exposed to different cultures, different people, different horizons. Here, the Roman Emperor tells me this is futile, that I must be strong to find that inner space for reflection within me, anywhere, any time. Maybe it’s all a learning curve. Maybe the external retreat is training wheels for the internal one. I’m still working that out.

Discipline is the root of all good things, at the gym, discipline is visible; you either show up or you don’t. In the mind, discipline is invisible. It’s choosing not to spiral. It’s choosing not to speculate about what someone else is doing or thinking. Marcus calls this out directly: wondering about others is a loss of opportunity for our own work.

Three mental discipline moves he returns to across multiple books:

Your mind becomes what it habitually thinks about. He writes about the soul being dyed by its thoughts. Fill your mind with what serves you. I’ve seen this play out in investing — the portfolio you build reflects the mental models you feed yourself, not the hot takes you scroll past.

You don’t have to have an opinion. Marcus says everything becomes what your opinion makes it. Renounce the opinion, and you find calm. Where I'm not knowledgeable or simply don't have any particular interest, I reserve my right to have an opinion, passing without forming a judgment. Many people today feel they must have a sharp take on every topic, every headline, every debate in a world full of controversial topics where omission can be an offense. Marcus would call that voluntary suffering.

Do only what is necessary. Most of what we say and do is unnecessary. The wise person asks of every action: Is this essential? I think about this every time I look at a product roadmap. The best products aren’t the ones with the most features. Simple is kind.

The Stoic Growth Engine

A quote from Chris Bailey’s Productivity Project I carry when pondering the future: happiness is nothing more than coming to terms with how things change. A recurring idea across Meditations — everything is changing, everything is temporary.

The stoics had a name for this: memento mori. Remember that you will die. It sounds heavy, but Marcus doesn’t use it to depress you. He uses it to wake you up, to remind us that time is all we have. He puts it plainly: live not as though there were a thousand years ahead of you. Fate is at your elbow. Make yourself good while life and power are still yours.

The beautiful tension in Meditations is that Marcus fully acknowledges how brief and small our lives are — he writes about mortal life being a little thing, lived in a little corner of the earth — and yet he never uses that as a reason to stop trying. He uses it as a reason to be more present, more deliberate, more alive. Memento mori isn’t about fear, but gratitude for the time you have and the urgency to use it fully, without being too hard on yourself for the imperfections along the way. It's only one life, we gotta make it count, and it has to be fun because it's already too serious to take it seriously.

The better every day foundation lies right here, in a book written two millennia ago. Compounding only works if you believe that today actually matters. Marcus gives you that belief: today is all you have. The present instant is the only moment you actually occupy. Everything else is either memory or speculation.

A Note from Me

Meditations meet you exactly where you are. It met Marcus Aurelius in the middle of running an empire. It met me at 30,000 feet, building something meaningful, striving to be 1% better than yesterday.

The Stoics don’t promise you won’t feel pain. They promise that if you do the work, the daily reps of perspective, discipline, and presence, you can carry it well.

And that might be enough.

What to Read Next

Check the summary for Supercommunicators, a book about mastering the art of connection through deep questions and active listening.

The book in three sentences

1. Supercommunicators are individuals who have mastered skills that enable instant connection, and this is due primarily to how they ask deep questions.

2. Duhigg reveals that every dialogue runs on three tracks: practical problems, emotional experiences, and identity values.

3. Great communicators don’t just speak clearly; they listen for the type of conversation and adjust their response accordingly.

Why I Picked It Up

I first came across this book in Copenhagen's airport, in one of those “top 10 non-fiction” bookshelves they keep on display, to be later retargeted by Duhigg's TED Talk in one of my YouTube sessions.

I’ve always thought I was pretty clear in how I talk. But what I realized is that I often miss what the other person actually wants from the exchange. Here are three reflections that stayed with me:

1. Conversations Happen on Three Levels

2. Matching the Tone and the Energy

3. How to Make Conversations Land

Conversations Happen on Three Levels

Every conversation contains three overlapping questions:

1. What’s this about?

2. How do we feel?

3. What does this say about us?

Duhigg breaks down conversations into three tracks: practical (solving a problem), emotional (processing a feeling), and identity (protecting or revealing who we are).

Most communication fails because people are talking on different levels. You’re solving a problem, they’re expressing a fear. You’re focused on facts, they’re navigating self-worth. The mismatch creates distance, even if the words sound right.

Curiosity is key for the supercommunicator, not charm or verbosity. It’s the ability to pause and ask, “Wait—what kind of conversation is this?”

That question alone can shift everything. It slows things down. It creates space. It puts both people in the same mode of listening.

Since reading the book, I’ve started labeling conversations in real time. Am I hearing a feeling or a request? Am I answering a logistical question or something more profound? That shift alone has made me slower to speak and quicker to connect.

Matching the Tone and the Energy

The way something is said matters as much as the words themselves.

Skilled communicators pay attention to tone, rhythm, and emotional intensity. They slow down when someone hesitates. They let silence linger when it’s needed. They respond calmly when the other person feels tense. They stay in sync.

I’ve seen myself miss this. I jump in too fast. I focus on clarity and outcomes. But not every moment calls for progress. Some call for alignment. Matching someone’s energy isn’t about imitation—it’s about respect.

You respond at their pace, not yours. You meet them where they are.

That’s what presence looks like. And it’s what opens the door for trust.

How to Make Conversations Land

The best part of the book is how tactical it gets with its “guides to using these ideas.”

I will focus on a few key questions I noted, as well as parallels with notes I gathered from 'Never Split the Difference' and the playbook of CIA negotiators.

Duhigg shares a set of questions that help align conversations in real time:

• “Do you want help or just someone to talk to?”

• “Is this about the decision or how it was made?”

• “Is there something about this that feels personal to you?”

These questions help you tune into the emotional level of a conversation; they create space and slow things down. I’ve found myself using them not just at work, but with friends, family, and dates.

Following up with depth

The book also changed how I think about deep questions, the ones that invite someone to share more than just surface-level details, questions that tap into our emotions, feelings, and identities.

I started testing these questions in events, dates, randomly at the gym, and even in Eastern Europe, where the stigma is often perceived as less friendly people who don't smile as much, the difference between a flat “what do you do?” versus “how do you feel about where you are right now?” is striking.

You can memorize questions, get a deck with conversation starters, or whatever it takes to get reps and make these more natural to how you express genuine curiosity when connecting with others.

Super communicator meets negotiation

Some of these tactics echo what Chris Voss wrote about in Never Split the Difference, or what CIA field operatives use in high-stakes dialogue:

Mirroring the last few words someone says.

Labeling what you hear in their tone.

Staying with the silence instead of rushing to fill it.

These moves help people feel heard. They let you stay in rhythm with what the other person can actually receive.

During a strategy week in Canada, I joined a high-stakes session with VPs and C-levels to align on a 3-year plan for one of our car brands. I didn’t say much. But when I did, I reflected what I’d heard, connected a few threads, and asked a question that helped everyone take a step back. That moment kept coming up afterward. It didn’t land because it was clever—it landed because it was paced right, and in sync with the group.

The book also changed how I think about deep questions. I used to treat them as conversation starters. Now I see them as a way to meet someone at a more honest level.

Instead of asking “what do you do?” I ask “how do you feel about where you are right now?”

Instead of “what’s next?”—“what’s pulling you forward these days?”

I keep a deck of deep question cards in my living room. I use them with friends, and sometimes with people I’ve just met. They help break the script. They open something up.

Listening, mirroring, pacing, asking better questions—this isn’t theory. It’s how conversations open up. It’s how they land.

A Note from Me

This book reminded me that communication is a two-player game—and sometimes the best move isn’t to say something smarter, but to switch lanes entirely.

In life and business, connection often begins when we stop trying to be right and start trying to be in sync.

Next month, I will be in Warsaw bringing a summary of the book with personal experience notes to the stage.

What to Read Next

Check the summary for The Mom Test, the most recommended Product book.

The book in three sentences

1. People rely on psychological shortcuts — known as the six principles of influence— to make decisions faster.

2. These principles are powerful tools of persuasion, often used automatically and subconsciously.

3. Understanding them helps you both become more persuasive and protect yourself from manipulation.

Why I Picked It Up

It kept coming up. Whether we were interviewing product leaders, startup founders, or marketers, people would reference "Cialdini's work" like gospel.

It’s structured like a behavioral playbook for influence. You learn one psychological principle at a time, with vivid real-world examples. It's one of those books that changes how you notice things—ads, conversations, negotiations.

These were the three things that stayed with me:

1. The Six Shortcuts to Influence

2. Applying It Ethically

3. Spotting Influence in the Wild

The Six Shortcuts to Influence

Cialdini identifies six core principles that people use to make quick decisions:

• Reciprocity: We feel obligated to return favors.

• Commitment & Consistency: We want to stay true to our previous decisions.

• Social Proof: We follow what others are doing, especially in uncertain situations.

• Authority: We defer to those who appear knowledgeable or credible.

• Liking: We’re more likely to agree with people we like.

• Scarcity: We value things more when they seem limited.

Each principle taps into automatic behavior—mental shortcuts that help us navigate complexity but also leave us vulnerable to manipulation.

Applying It Ethically

These six principles don’t just work in sales or marketing. They show up everywhere—from product design to fundraising to parenting.

Here’s how I’ve seen them used well:

• Offering reciprocity with upfront value before a signup.

• Using commitment nudges like onboarding checklists.

• Featuring authentic testimonials and social stats.

• Framing advice with expert voices or credentials.

• Writing with warmth and relatability.

• Creating urgency ethically, not manipulatively.

Understanding these levers doesn’t mean you have to pull them all the time. But knowing they’re there gives you more intention and control.

Spotting Influence in the Wild

Once you read Influence, you start seeing these psychological shortcuts everywhere:

• The free sample at the grocery store (Reciprocity).

• The limited-time-only discount (Scarcity).

• The expert on TV in a lab coat (Authority).

• The “People Also Bought” section (Social Proof).

Cialdini doesn’t just teach you how to use influence—he gives you the tools to resist it too. This makes the book as much a defense manual as it is a strategy guide.

A Note from Me

Once you’ve seen these principles, you can’t unsee them. They’re everywhere. But one app that truly stands out for using all of them—often at once — is Duolingo ($DUOL).

{{Owl}}

Here are just a few of the ways I’ve seen Duolingo applying Cialdini's influence principles in the product:

1. Reciprocity – It gives you value immediately with lessons and streaks, often before asking you to pay or commit.

2. Commitment & Consistency – The daily streak mechanic builds a habit and nudges you to keep your word to yourself.

3. Social Proof – Leaderboards show what others are doing, and push notifications tell you how you're ranking.

4. Authority – The owl delivers tips and encouragement like an expert guide, often using structured learning paths backed by linguistics.

5. Liking – The app’s tone, mascot, and animations build an emotional connection. It’s friendly and unhinged.

6. Scarcity – Limited-time XP boosts, streak freezes, and seasonal badges add urgency and scarcity in a lightweight way.

What to Read Next

Check the summary for The Mom Test, the most recommended Product book.

The book in three sentences

1. Great teams aren’t built on talent alone — they’re built on trust, conflict, commitment, accountability, and results.

2. Most teams fail not because they lack strategy, but because they lack the courage to be honest.

3. One dysfunction leads to the next, creating a compounding failure spiral.

Why I Picked It Up

I got this recommendation from a friend who was leading a software engineering department through a tense org restructuring. The book reveals a leadership parable told through the story of a fictional tech company that reminds me of The Goal.

I listened to the audiobook, and here are three things that stayed with me:

1. Trust is the Foundation

2. Conflict is Productive

3. Commitment to Results

As I reflect on my notes and start mapping the learnings, I couldn’t help but draw parallels with the Amazon Leadership Principles.

Trust is the Foundation

Lencioni begins his story with the team’s offsite, where the cracks are subtle but real. The CEO notices people play it safe, avoid personal disclosures, rarely admit when they’re unsure, and the absence of vulnerability-based trust, the kind that lets someone say:

I messed that up — I need help.

I've experienced a similar counterproductive environment as described in the book, where more time was spent documenting decisions and taking screenshots of who said what on Slack, because "being protected" is almost more important than making progress. If vulnerability is not welcomed, teams stay in protection mode.

The story portrays how even the most senior executives in the fable carry a status armor, which kills open dialogue. Building trust means being vulnerable and genuine first.

Conflict is Productive

As trust builds up, productive conflict can emerge — the second dysfunction.

In the early meetings, team members nod along, hold back critiques, and defer to consensus. The danger? Artificial harmony.

Lencioni contrasts this with healthy disagreement: interrupting not to derail, but to challenge and engage. In one moment from the story, a key exec finally voices disagreement about a hiring decision. It sparks tension — but also a breakthrough. People finally start speaking their minds.

This idea reminds me of Amazon's leadership principle “Have a backbone,” because Teams that don’t disagree and commit, don’t grow.

Commitment to Results

In Lencioni’s model, the fifth dysfunction is inattention to results. This aligns with Amazon’s principle of “Deliver Results”. It’s not enough for teams to trust each other and engage in healthy conflict if they aren’t collectively focused on outcomes. The fictional team in the book only starts succeeding when everyone shifts from individual agendas to a shared commitment to results.

A Note from Me

The five dysfunctions of a team:

1. Absence of Trust – people don’t open up or admit mistakes.

2. Fear of Conflict – real issues get buried under politeness.

3. Lack of Commitment – vague alignment leads to scattered execution.

4. Avoidance of Accountability – no one calls out underperformance.

5. Inattention to Results – ego or personal goals take priority over team wins.

I came back to this framework during a reorg when team roles were shifting, and trust was shaky. It helped me zoom out and ask: Where are we stuck? It wasn’t about velocity or OKRs — it was about people not feeling safe enough to disagree out loud.

I started by acting on what was under my control, making small trust deposits: owning my own mistakes early in meetings, being transparent about uncertainty, and surfacing silent resistance in 1:1s. Over time, it gave others an opening to do the same. That’s when the real progress started.

If your team feels off but you can’t quite name it — this book gives you the vocabulary and the mirror.

What to Read Next

Check the summary for The Mom Test, the most recommended Product book.

The book in three sentences

1. A father and son motorcycle trip becomes the canvas for a philosophical deep dive into the nature of Quality.

2. The narrative oscillates between the road and the mind, blending storytelling with an inquiry into values, meaning, and madness.

3. At its core, it’s a guide to living with care — integrating rational analysis and romantic intuition as one unified way of being, which reminds me of Product.

Why I Picked It Up

I first came across this book during my days as a mechanical engineer, when my world revolved around tolerances and inspections. I remembered it as dense — even intimidating.

Years later, after stumbling upon references to the book on Lenny's podcast, I picked it up again, now working in the digital space of Product — still solving problems, still thinking in systems, but through a completely different lens.

And here are three reflections that stayed with me:

1. Quality Comes Before Definition

2. The Mechanical Is Spiritual

3. Classical Meets Romantic

Quality Comes Before Definition

Before you can measure, define, or optimize anything, you feel its quality.

That feeling of “rightness” is the seed of good product decisions. It’s not irrational. It’s pre-rational. Learning to trust that sense, that Product intuition, and then validating it is part of mastering the craft.

In Zen, Pirsig assigns his English students the task of writing about “what is quality?” Most of them freeze. Not because it’s too abstract, but because it’s too familiar. They know what quality is — they feel it every time they read something good or bad — but they can’t define it. The moment they try to pin it down, it slips away.

That’s the point. Quality isn’t born from the definition. It’s revealed through experience.

Product people chase the same thing. A flow that just works. A design that feels frictionless. A release that clicks. We sense quality before we can articulate why it’s there.

The Mechanical Is About Care

One of Pirsig’s most vivid contrasts is between himself and his friend John, who rides a sleek BMW but wants nothing to do with maintenance. John just wants the machine to work. He avoids the details, dreads the thought of opening up the bike, and resents any breakdowns. For him, the machine is a black box — something to be used, not understood.

But Pirsig sees the opposite: real peace of mind comes from engaging with the machine, not ignoring it. From paying attention. From care.

Peace of mind isn’t at all superficial, really. It’s the whole thing. That which produces it is good maintenance; that which disturbs it is poor maintenance.

Product work has the same shape. You can either patch things blindly — or take the time to understand how the system works. Real builders don’t just want things to run. They want to know why they run, and how to make them better.

Care is not extra, it is the work.

Classical Meets Romantic

Zen is a book about a breakdown — intellectual, emotional, and philosophical. And at the heart of that breakdown is a split: the classical mindset that dissects and explains vs. the romantic mindset that experiences and appreciates.

Pirsig doesn’t tell us to pick one. He illustrates what happens when you fail to integrate the two, which applies to the Product world.

Strategy is worthless without taste. Design is fragile without structure.

The real craft is holding both, even when they pull against each other. Knowing when to analyze and when to feel. When to break something apart and when to step back and see the whole.

Most teams lean one way. Great teams hold the tension and build something better from it.

A Note from Me

In mechanical engineering, I was trained to eliminate error. In Product, I’ve learned to embrace uncertainty — and still move forward with care.

To me, product management is a discipline of attention. A commitment to listen, to inspect, to integrate — and above all, to pursue quality before we even try to define it.

What to Read Next

Check the summary for The Mom Test, the most recommended Product book.