You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Take a photo of a barcode or cover
3.84 AVERAGE
3.84 AVERAGE
funny
fast-paced
My favorite book of 2016 so far. Equal parts entertaining and cautionary.
Interesting expose on the start-up world and who the winners and losers are. Too bad the author is so insufferable.
Lyons offers an interesting perspective into the world of bloated valuations for tech companies that have never, and perhaps will never, become profitable.
However, his narration makes him incredibly unlikable. Lyons's unwillingness to fit into a new office culture and his lack of empathy for his younger coworkers quickly renders him an obnoxious know-it-all. So much so that he becomes an unreliable narrator when discussing how he was all but forced out of HubSpot.
In the epilogue, Lyons claims that the book's purpose was to entertain. While it succeeded in that, it also falsely implied that the tech start-up industry's renewed focus on employee engagement is misguided and that his misfortunes at HubSpot are pervasive throughout the industry.
However, his narration makes him incredibly unlikable. Lyons's unwillingness to fit into a new office culture and his lack of empathy for his younger coworkers quickly renders him an obnoxious know-it-all. So much so that he becomes an unreliable narrator when discussing how he was all but forced out of HubSpot.
In the epilogue, Lyons claims that the book's purpose was to entertain. While it succeeded in that, it also falsely implied that the tech start-up industry's renewed focus on employee engagement is misguided and that his misfortunes at HubSpot are pervasive throughout the industry.
Wow ... I hated this book!!
First of all, let's get something out of the way: this book is not funny. It's, I dunno, petty. And a bit vindictive.
But what's the most disappointing is the author makes some good points: about how tech companies are de-valuing labor, about how the funding and IPO model is broken. But he wraps it in such self-aggrandizing, ageist bullshit that it's impossible to take seriously.
In the first 15 pages, he talks about how astounded he is that Hubspot has hired him for a marketing position when he's got no marketing experience. Then he loses his mind that his boss is only 5 years out of college. Um, how are you surprised? This guy has 5 more years experience then you do - of course you report to him.
From that point on, you never hear about someone without also hearing about how old they are. He complains that everyone makes him feel old while he's busy writing a book about how young and dumb they all are. Pot? Meet kettle.
He also seems pretty out of touch for a guy who was a Newsweek tech reporter. If you reported on these companies so much how did you not know what you were getting into?
He complains that there's no diversity in tech, but then gets excited when he's in an LA writers room with all dudes where he can make jokes about "huge cocks and dry vaginas". He openly mocks his company on Facebook and wonders why he gets in trouble.
Now do I think he had some legitimate gripes about Hubspot? Sure. But I expected an experienced journalist to be able to frame it in a way that didn't make me hate him. Instead, he came across like a grumpy old man who had an axe to grind.
If you're looking for insight into the current state of the tech industry, this isn't your book. You want to hear a guy talk about how great he is and complain about his coworkers for 250 pages? This is your book.
First of all, let's get something out of the way: this book is not funny. It's, I dunno, petty. And a bit vindictive.
But what's the most disappointing is the author makes some good points: about how tech companies are de-valuing labor, about how the funding and IPO model is broken. But he wraps it in such self-aggrandizing, ageist bullshit that it's impossible to take seriously.
In the first 15 pages, he talks about how astounded he is that Hubspot has hired him for a marketing position when he's got no marketing experience. Then he loses his mind that his boss is only 5 years out of college. Um, how are you surprised? This guy has 5 more years experience then you do - of course you report to him.
From that point on, you never hear about someone without also hearing about how old they are. He complains that everyone makes him feel old while he's busy writing a book about how young and dumb they all are. Pot? Meet kettle.
He also seems pretty out of touch for a guy who was a Newsweek tech reporter. If you reported on these companies so much how did you not know what you were getting into?
He complains that there's no diversity in tech, but then gets excited when he's in an LA writers room with all dudes where he can make jokes about "huge cocks and dry vaginas". He openly mocks his company on Facebook and wonders why he gets in trouble.
Now do I think he had some legitimate gripes about Hubspot? Sure. But I expected an experienced journalist to be able to frame it in a way that didn't make me hate him. Instead, he came across like a grumpy old man who had an axe to grind.
If you're looking for insight into the current state of the tech industry, this isn't your book. You want to hear a guy talk about how great he is and complain about his coworkers for 250 pages? This is your book.
Woo wee, what a ride! Very interesting and hit all too close to home, but I have to admit the author got a little annoying.
This was accurate and slightly painful but mostly very funny! Angry people always make the best writers. I even gasped a few times! Some tidbits were repeated unnecessarily which was a little grrrr. But mostly just realllll funny and also sneakily educational about the big picture of the industry I work in.
I'm a twenty-something but I think I'm still curmudgeonly enough to relate very easily.
Awesome!!! Crushing it!!!
I'm a twenty-something but I think I'm still curmudgeonly enough to relate very easily.
Awesome!!! Crushing it!!!
What a weird read on so many levels. The author is not a sympathetic character (wah wah you can't make dick jokes at work! Poor you!) for a good portion of the book, but has a reasonable human side when he's (legitimately) concerned about the safety and security of his family and repeatedly highlighting how ageism thrives in tech. HubSpot is beyond weird. Not a workplace culture that would work for me and if even 20% of that is true then good grief - how gross.
I wouldn't want to work for HubSpot and I'm also not sure I'd want to be his coworker. A weird book all around.
I wouldn't want to work for HubSpot and I'm also not sure I'd want to be his coworker. A weird book all around.
There's a lot to be said for what you gain in experience, but I worry a lot about how my age will, over time, affect my hiring attractiveness as my career progresses. Dan Lyons does little to dispel this fear and in fact confirms it: In Silicon Valley specifically, ageism isn't so much a practice as it is a value, and the social contract that once existed between companies and their employees no longer exists. What's more, a great startup is now valued more for how hype-worthy it is than for its actual ability to demonstrate sustainable growth and a long-term interest in users themselves. He points out that this is at least one reason why the wealth gap is growing between workers, and executives and investors: The game is rigged that way, and we've all bought in. It also incentivises building businesses using young, cheap workers, which means there's little to no immediate incentive to change this.
I think these are all things that we know, but what makes me sad is how readily and gladly we accepted this and moved on. I don't know what the alternative is any longer; a setback to how exponentially more quickly the world is moving is that it's so much harder to backtrack when we realise we've made a collective mistake.
A French tech journalist once told me there's a key difference between how Americans see their startups, and how the French do, and it affects everything from policy-making to investment strategy: American society fundamentally believes that startups have a community responsibility and can be helpful, should be helpful. French society is inherently suspicious of business, larger or small.
This was a cool anecdote, but I thought about it repeatedly while reading this book. I believe that what he said is true; what's sad is that we perhaps grant American startups a lot of benefit of doubt based on our assumption of its sense of community responsibility—not just to social causes, but specifically to the well-being of employees, to advancing diversity, and to protecting clients whose data and money flows so freely into your coffers—which may more often be lip service than conviction. We've slipped into a world where abstractions are enough. (To be fair, startups aren't reflections of small business at large, but they are certainly the most visible and most disruptive in media today.)
There are silver linings: Despite his regret choosing to work at Hubspot, Lyons is a strong journalist, an adaptable employee (despite Chernov's insistence to the contrary) and, fundamentally, somebody others trust, and his career has evolved in ways even he didn't expect. So even if the tech world is filled with bro-grammers and ageists, there is some comfort in remembering this other truth we often forget: Most of what we'll live, we can't plan, because there's no way for us to know what's coming. Our lives are spent planting seeds for fruits we won't recognise for years. And I liked this a lot. It was like a hug.
Anyway, good book. And I love Silicon Valley!
I think these are all things that we know, but what makes me sad is how readily and gladly we accepted this and moved on. I don't know what the alternative is any longer; a setback to how exponentially more quickly the world is moving is that it's so much harder to backtrack when we realise we've made a collective mistake.
A French tech journalist once told me there's a key difference between how Americans see their startups, and how the French do, and it affects everything from policy-making to investment strategy: American society fundamentally believes that startups have a community responsibility and can be helpful, should be helpful. French society is inherently suspicious of business, larger or small.
This was a cool anecdote, but I thought about it repeatedly while reading this book. I believe that what he said is true; what's sad is that we perhaps grant American startups a lot of benefit of doubt based on our assumption of its sense of community responsibility—not just to social causes, but specifically to the well-being of employees, to advancing diversity, and to protecting clients whose data and money flows so freely into your coffers—which may more often be lip service than conviction. We've slipped into a world where abstractions are enough. (To be fair, startups aren't reflections of small business at large, but they are certainly the most visible and most disruptive in media today.)
There are silver linings: Despite his regret choosing to work at Hubspot, Lyons is a strong journalist, an adaptable employee (despite Chernov's insistence to the contrary) and, fundamentally, somebody others trust, and his career has evolved in ways even he didn't expect. So even if the tech world is filled with bro-grammers and ageists, there is some comfort in remembering this other truth we often forget: Most of what we'll live, we can't plan, because there's no way for us to know what's coming. Our lives are spent planting seeds for fruits we won't recognise for years. And I liked this a lot. It was like a hug.
Anyway, good book. And I love Silicon Valley!