Sam Lessin on Etiquette as a Founder's Tool for Walking Into Any Room With a Low Heart Rate

Open on YouTube ↗
Overview

Sam Lessin is a partner at Slow Ventures, a former VP of Product at Facebook, and a two-time founder. He has also become, somewhat to his own amusement, Silicon Valley's etiquette teacher. In this conversation with Lenny Rachitsky, he explains why he thinks founders should learn the rules of polite behavior. He then works through introductions, conversation, hygiene and dress, dining, tipping, humor, scheduling, email, meetings, and exits. His central claim is that etiquette is not about fussiness. It is a set of tools for building trust quickly and for showing up "in a room with a low heart rate." He says openly that he doesn't always follow these rules himself. His point is that he knows them, and he thinks founders are rarely told they matter.

31 min read
4:50

Why etiquette, and why now

Lessin says he likes projects that sit at the intersection of "hilarious and useful." Humor helps cut through the noise. He also thinks humor only works when there is a deeper truth underneath it. The etiquette project began, as he puts it, with a tweet. The tweet turned into an event, and the event turned into a book (Modern Etiquette in Technology, Finance, Society, and at Home: A Slow Ventures Handbook) and a series of classes.

He calls the serious argument the "deep truth." Software is getting commoditized. People are fearful about Silicon Valley and AI, and many worry about losing their jobs. Technology is "no longer some cute sideshow." In that environment, founders are asking people to trust them with their data and their businesses. Knowing how to meet people where they are, build trust, and mirror expected behavior becomes a real business tool. The "shallow truth" is that it is simply funny to teach etiquette to Silicon Valley, a culture that has long insisted nothing matters except the product. Lessin notes he is wearing a t-shirt and is not known as a high-etiquette person, but says he does know the rules.

He grants an exception. If a founder brings "mana from heaven," meaning something like the next Google invented out of pure thought, none of this may matter, and they can "get away with anything." He says that happens very rarely and is not the experience of 99.9% of startups. Even then, he argues, it doesn't mean you should be a jerk, because over time you need to work with great people.

7:09

The core idea: low heart rate and abundance, not scarcity

Lessin keeps coming back to one image throughout the conversation. Picture a young founder, possibly from another country, at the Kleiner Perkins holiday party. Every venture capitalist and CEO is in the room. The founder thinks, "Oh my god, this is my shot," and treats every conversation as a transaction to convert. If you show up "like a little Energizer Bunny," he says, you scare people off and project entirely the wrong vibe. He understands why the moment feels high-intensity, but he argues the better approach is to take a beat, give more than you take, build relationships rather than collect business cards, and come in with a mindset of abundance rather than scarcity.

He says he sees scarcity thinking as a uniquely American and uniquely Silicon Valley habit. He compares it to Eminem's "Lose Yourself" and its "one shot, one opportunity" line. He says he likes the song and sometimes listens to it before a big presentation. But even if you privately believe this is your one shot, he argues, you should carry yourself with "the self-confidence and the calm of abundance": this is an opportunity, not the only one; "this is part of the story, this is not the entire story."

A second recurring principle is that the effort you signal often matters as much as the behavior itself. The goal of etiquette is to get out of the way. Your napkin placement, your fragrance, your tip, and your outfit should not be memorable. What the other person should remember is the conversation.

At the end, Lenny reads the book's TL;DR. The goal of all etiquette is building trust and projecting genuine confidence. Maintain an abundance mindset. Remember that you are worthy and have nothing to prove. It is okay to ask questions. Keep your heart rate low.

10:22

Introductions and entering a room

The first rule is to be early. Half an hour early is "a little weird." The point is enough buffer that you aren't racing in five minutes late with your heart rate up. Ideally you get to sit in the waiting room for a moment, so that they kept you waiting. If you are late, apologize simply and move on. Lessin says he has watched many people make lateness into a "five alarm fire," coming in flustered, when all that was needed was a brief apology.

The reverse also applies. When someone else is late, don't make them feel bad. Lessin describes his own situation as a VC booked in back-to-back 30-minute blocks, often on Zoom. He says he is frequently late, doesn't feel good about it, always apologizes, and tries to email ahead. Most founders just get into the meeting. Occasionally a founder is indignant. Lessin's reaction is that if a few minutes' lateness is a deal breaker, the remaining 25 minutes now feel wasted because the dynamic is already wrong.

Other introduction basics: a firm handshake that doesn't crush the other person's hand ("practice on your friends"), and repeating the person's name back ("Hey Lenny, it's great to meet you"). Repeating the name helps you remember it. It also shows the person that you are trying to focus on them and that they aren't "just a potential check."

On eye contact, Lessin says people now spend their days glancing across multiple windows. Being present in a conversation is a matter of respect. He acknowledges that some people, including many founders, are neurodivergent and find sustained eye contact hard. He says there is grace for that "to a point," and that visibly trying goes a long way compared with not caring.

14:02

Handling partners and forgotten names

If you are with a partner, introduce them first and bring them into the conversation. This also gives you a trick Lessin says he "unfortunately" uses all the time, when you've forgotten the other person's name. The proper form would be "Lenny, please meet my wife Jessica." If you can't remember Lenny's name, flip it: "Jessica, I want to introduce you…" and let it hang. The other person extends their hand, says their name, and you've recovered it. Lessin describes this as using a small amount of plausible deniability, technically slightly imperfect etiquette, in service of better etiquette overall. Socially attuned people may notice what's happening, and that's fine.

A related tool is saying "great to see you" instead of "nice to meet you," because it works whether or not you've met before. Saying "nice to meet you" to someone you've met five or six times is embarrassing for everyone. Lessin says people aren't dumb: someone who hears "great to see you" may suspect you don't remember them, and that is part of "the etiquette dance." He tells a story about his wife. Just before they started dating, he greeted her with a "nice to see you" line because he clearly couldn't remember whether they had met. They had, and she remembered.

Lessin says he has a "clinical problem" with name-face recognition that runs in his family. He partly attributes his early attraction to Facebook to it. It was the first time he could walk around college recognizing people without knowing their names and have "a resource I can study." Lenny says he has the same problem.

16:27

Conversation: ping-pong, not interrogation

Lessin's advice for conversations starts with inclusion. He has seen a famous VC or founder walk into a room and a young startup person "waylay" them and try to cordon them off. He argues the more inclusive you are, the more you project the abundance mindset.

Asking questions is good, and far better than launching into a four-minute startup spiel, which he calls self-centered. But questions can be overdone. When someone fires six questions in a row, it feels like an inquisition or like they are extracting information while giving nothing back. His metaphor is ping-pong or tennis: hit the ball back, let them hit it back to you, and don't serve ten balls in a row. The best conversations start when someone offers an idea or a point that the other person can react to, so both are playing together rather than "single player."

He also recommends matching vocabulary. You'd talk differently to a university professor than to a 12-year-old. He says the aim is to make people feel relaxed and good, not to mimic them, and he admits the distinction is subtle.

"Leave them wanting more" is another principle. If you're being transactional about it, the real goal of most interactions is for the other person to walk away thinking you were interesting and that they'd like to talk again. Even better, they might walk across the room and tell someone, "you really should talk to Sam." The bad outcome is that they've heard your entire life story and never need to speak to you again. That is partly a matter of knowing when to excuse yourself.

With famous people, Lessin warns against two failure modes. The first is being "ridiculous," such as walking up to Mark Zuckerberg, whom everyone recognizes, and asking who he is. The second is being sycophantic ("you're the most important person I've ever met"). The better approach is to treat them as people, remember that you're playing an iterative game, and tell yourself this is not your only chance to meet them, even if it actually is. Don't ask for their email and phone number. Let them offer.

28:34

Hygiene and dress

On hygiene, Lessin's rule is that your scent should not be noticeable in either direction. Don't douse yourself in perfume or cologne, and don't smell bad. Asked whether the advice applies equally to men and women, he says broadly yes. He adds that a course his team internally calls the "fem etiquette" course is planned for around January or February, because his wife and other women told him there is a lot more that women need to know. He says he can't speak to that material yet.

For dress, he tells a story from his first job out of college as an associate at Bain & Company. He noticed there was a minimum dress code but no maximum. So the associates started "Tuxedo Tuesdays" as a mini rebellion, and as a bonus, nobody would take them to client meetings dressed in tuxedos. He offers it as an example of knowing the rules in order to break them. He adds that rule-breaking should be done "with a lot of cultural understanding."

His practical advice is to look put together and like you made an effort, without overdoing it. A few specific points:

  • Dress one level up: not two or three. You can often dial it back, for example by taking off a suit jacket.
  • Fit beats brand: "a well-fitting $20 shirt is way better than a misfitting $500 shirt." He argues most people can intuitively tell whether clothes fit, while most can't tell what things cost. An expensive but ill-fitting item signals cultural unawareness and an attempt to impress.
  • No status signaling: showing up as a startup founder wearing a Rolex is, in his words, "very classless." He ties this back to trying too hard: "You're not going to trick anyone."
  • Ask if you're unsure: he says asking about dress, or even which fork to use, shows confidence and humility. Expectations genuinely differ between places like New York and San Francisco, and no one expects you to know every culture's nuances. Just don't ask a hundred questions.

Asked for general tips on dressing well, he suggests finding someone in your life who dresses well and asking them for help. He jokes that his wife will be chuckling at him being asked about specifics of dress.

25:07

His kids and the YC class

Lessin says that working on etiquette made him realize his own children, aged eight, six, and four, have terrible table manners ("you guys eat like animals"). He jokes that he can't be the etiquette guy with kids like that. One result he finds funny: his six-year-old now stands whenever his wife comes to the table. Lessin notes this is arcane and debatable as modern etiquette. He says a more modern version, which the book suggests, is standing for anyone who joins the table. Lenny mentions hearing developmental psychologist Alison Gopnik on Tyler Cowen's podcast describing how children learn to use a fork by experimenting like scientists. Lessin replies that his kids can feed themselves, "it works," but it looks strange.

Before the book, Lessin ran a class specifically for Y Combinator founders. He says part of the motivation was that Garry Tan "got very mad about this," which meant he now had to do it. The class was held at the Four Seasons and handed out certificates of completion. It included tongue-in-cheek elements, such as stylists bringing in models to discuss dress for different events, plus caviar and wine tastings. It also covered the substance: low heart rate, abundance mindset, eye contact, handshakes, and eating in a way that shows respect. Lessin says he doesn't really know what makes Garry Tan mad. He guesses Tan may see it as the wrong thing to focus on, or may object to the gentle joke that YC founders "come out a little bit like animals." Lessin says that isn't their fault. They are often young people who've been holed up coding for months. His example of the kind of small signal he means: a founder who gets a coffee at your office and leaves the cup on the table without asking where to put it.

33:53

Dining and tipping

At meals, Lessin's rules include: tip well, split bills evenly rather than tallying who ordered what, make things easy for the waiters, and don't order the most expensive thing on the menu. An investor won't actually care about the cost, he says, but they will notice, and it suggests you're insensitive to what things cost. He also advises not ordering first. Let someone else set the tone on starters, wine, and meal length, then match it. Aim for the "middle of the pack to last."

On paying, he says that within reason you should always offer to pay, not to split. Usually, for example with a VC, you'll be turned down, and that's the right dynamic. He notes you do take the risk of actually being accepted. There are limits. You needn't offer if it's a $10,000 dinner or if the other person ordered a very expensive bottle of wine. Lenny asks about dinner with a billionaire. Lessin thinks offering is especially nice in that case, precisely because such people obviously don't care about the money and nobody ever offers. It signals you see this as a conversation between equals. There is a catch, which he says isn't in the book. If you pay for someone well known, you have to tip the way they would tip, which he suggests might be 100% of the bill.

Lenny says he hates tipping as a concept because it's so convoluted. Lessin's answer is "tip a lot." He calls 20% the minimum, says 30% or sometimes more is fine, and says going far beyond that starts to seem silly. His guiding principle is again that your tip shouldn't be memorable. He recalls people who tipped so extravagantly that a decade later it's the only thing he remembers about the evening. Tipping, he says, is about making everyone feel taken care of so they can relax.

The two then riff on a product idea: an LLM-driven tipping app where you photograph the bill, it geolocates you, you describe the situation, and it tells you what to tip. It would cover not just restaurants but end-of-year tips for service workers too. Lessin says someone pitching "the 2026 AI-driven tipping calculator" would be hilarious and probably useful, though likely not venture scale. They briefly agree they wouldn't tip someone who installs window shades. Lessin also mentions a Seinfeld episode about a tipping calculator and "Bistromathics" from Life, the Universe and Everything, which he's reading to one of his sons. In that book, the most complicated math in the universe is a restaurant bill.

A few smaller dining tips: if you order a nice wine, offer the sommelier a taste. Remember "B and D": make lowercase b and d shapes with your hands, and the bread plate is on the left and drinks on the right. Rest your knife with the blade pointing inward. Keep your napkin in your lap, not at your neck and not off to the side. Lessin says founders have started sending him videos of themselves dining to get feedback. He recently told one they had done a nice job eating soup, but their napkin should have been in their lap and their knife was pointing the wrong way. Asked about a napkin over one leg versus both, he says only that you don't want your napkin placement to be memorable.

43:16

Humor, stories, and winding down

Lessin loves humor but says it can be overdone, and it depends heavily on the audience. His view of why it works: a joke that sits right at the line, or pushes one degree past it, is "the ultimate demonstration of comfort in a space." The risk is asymmetric. A joke everyone laughs at is great. A joke nobody laughs at is a failed high-risk maneuver. Knock-knock jokes don't work with adults, and an off-color joke requires real confidence in the room. You also don't want to be remembered only as the comedian. He keeps a file of favorite jokes, once in Evernote and now in Bear, loosely ranked from least to most offensive, because he forgets them otherwise.

Self-deprecation is safe: "make fun of yourself, not other people." Teasing others signals a high level of familiarity. It can work with a close business partner when everyone is on the same wavelength, but the moment it feels disparaging, it becomes very high risk.

He also recommends having a few short, crowd-pleasing stories ready. The goal is to put others at ease. Nobody should be monologuing, and you shouldn't force the other person to monologue either. When someone tells a story, having one to build on keeps the ping-pong going.

On ending conversations, the worst pattern is when the conversation is clearly over and the person just keeps standing there. He notes that when someone says "I'm going to go grab a drink," it usually isn't an invitation to follow them to the bar. One graceful exit is to connect the person with someone else ("Have you met Steve? Let's go meet Steve"), or to say you're going to say hi to your spouse. His key point is subtlety. Even if everyone knows what's happening, give people plausible deniability that the conversation simply wound down.

49:33

Scheduling and the Calendly saga

Lessin describes himself as "fairly famous for hating Calendly." He says he once went on such a widely viewed diatribe about Calendly being disrespectful that it generated millions of engagements. He claims he personally drove most of Calendly's growth for that month, to the point that he got messages from the board.

His rules: if you're the less senior or less busy person, let the other person say when they're free and then make it work on your end. If you do offer times or a link, the options must be real, and one of the first three needs to work. If you ask to reschedule, give as much notice as possible and then accommodate the other person's availability within reason. Double-check time zones, and don't propose times that land at 4 a.m. for the other person.

He also rejects a flat hierarchy of meetings. When someone asks if he's free, the answer depends on who's asking. If a very important person wants to meet at 4 a.m., he'll make it work. He admits this means his calendar probably moves more than most people's, which likely feels disrespectful to some, and he says "it is."

Lenny describes his own approach: asking founders whether they have a Calendly, and if not, offering his own "in case that might make it easier." Lessin says that's perfectly fine. The key is to make it easy for the other person, because if you're the one asking for something, "you do the work." Lenny also tells a story about someone finding his Calendly URL and booking a pitch meeting. Lessin tells a similar one: he has accepted cold meetings from people whose names were one letter off from someone he knew. He adds that once you've committed to the meeting, you do the meeting.

He puts particular weight on respecting executive assistants and personal assistants. He calls disrespecting people who help others "the number one way to look extremely classless." That applies equally to servers. Thank them, follow up with them, and ask where to put your coffee cup. Lenny recalls that during his company's sale to Airbnb, an advisor made a point of building good relationships with Airbnb's EA and office manager. Lessin agrees that making gatekeepers happy works, but warns it can become too transactional. If you show up with flowers for the EA, "you better be damn confident."

55:29

Email and communication

Lessin's email advice is to proofread, get to the point quickly, and assume the reader is busy. He compares a ten-paragraph email to a ten-minute monologue in conversation. He acknowledges that some people believe receiving an email creates no obligation to respond. His personal view is that you do owe at least a quick acknowledgment, not a 12-page essay. His test: imagine receiving your own email and ask how it feels.

He advises against emojis in business contexts. In his view, emojis signal a step of familiarity, similar to jokes, "tell them at your own risk." If someone sends you one, you can match it. Lenny says he uses the thank-you hands emoji a lot. Lessin allows that texting is different and says he isn't being dogmatic. He adds that emojis carry cultural connotations and are less legible than clear writing. Lenny notes that emojis can also suggest AI-generated text, because "ChatGPT loves emojis." Getting "spicy," Lessin says that customizing your emoji pack or using unusual emojis is "quite a statement." In his view, it suggests someone who spends time customizing emojis when they could be doing something more interesting. Lenny suggests "finding product market fit," and Lessin adds "or learning etiquette."

He also argues that recipient order carries meaning. If the assistant is first on the "To" line and the CEO is fourth, you've probably done it wrong, because order implies whom you consider most important. He admits he pays slightly more attention to emails where he's listed first. An email sent to many people is almost by definition not that important. The CC line means "you should have a copy, I'm not expecting an immediate response." If you're the fifth CC, you're not expected to reply first, though he says there are times to break that rule. If you're BCC'd, don't reply all.

Lessin says the point is that all of this is invisible stuff that shouldn't occupy 80% of your brain. Doing it intuitively signals a shared "well of knowledge and cultural connection," and that is what makes people trust you. He admits it is a hard ask to expect people to intuitively know unwritten rules. He shares one of his worst mistakes: to check the spelling of someone's name, he put that person in the "To" field of an email that was about them, then hit send. His advice is to never do that.

1:02:41

Meetings, video calls, and leaving

For in-person meetings, arrive 10 to 15 minutes early, not an hour. If you're very early, walk around the block, because otherwise the host feels they're keeping you waiting while you're "six coffees deep with the receptionist." Opening with small talk about the weather or the weekend is useful even though it feels transparent. It signals you're a normal person before switching to business. Lenny mentions a Twitter description of small talk as a TCP/IP handshake. Lessin likes it and says he has always thought of small talk as the old dial-up modem screech, two sides syncing wavelengths.

For video calls: camera on. Lessin says he sometimes violates this "knowingly," aware of what it costs him. Dress appropriately and have an appropriate background. He's not a fan of virtual backgrounds. He won't judge a founder for taking a call from their bedroom, but the bed should be made. A classic founder mistake he sees is leaving the closet open behind them: "I don't want to see your shirts."

Clean up after yourself. Lessin credits his Slow Ventures partner Kevin Colleran with being "maniacal" about this, especially in meetings with LPs, the limited partners the firm raises money from. You take your coffee or Diet Coke, even if you know someone will clean up after you, and you ask where to put it or set it on a side table, acknowledging the mess.

When leaving: stand when people leave the table, and stand to shake hands. Follow up with a short thank-you note. If your phone rings as a meeting ends, send a "calling you right back" reply and walk away, rather than picking up and waving goodbye. Don't make a production of your exit. In large groups, Lessin thinks an "Irish goodbye" is often best, perhaps thanking the host on the way out. Hugging everyone goodbye is "too much."

Where the project is going

Lessin describes the book as a V1 in his "ship early, ship often" style, currently 50 to 60 pages. He expects it to grow to a few hundred pages through later editions, and he wants to credit readers who send in tips. He says classes are planned for the coming year in several places, including New York and Tel Aviv, where he says they've been invited. He notes that outlets like Morning Brew keep making videos about etiquette. He jokes that after good investments and building products, he may end up remembered as "the etiquette guy," and says he is fine with that.

1:09:40

AI Corner: Lettermeme

Lessin says he is skeptical of most AI applications by default. The AI project he has enjoyed most is Lettermeme, a personal news aggregator he built. It takes the newsletters he doesn't have time to read and turns them into daily cartoons, a grid-style front page of what's happening in the world. It's also where the book's cartoons partly came from. Users can pipe in their own trusted newsletters and receive a daily email digest. He built the first version himself end to end with Cursor, DigitalOcean, and Cloudflare, which he says is exactly what vibe coding is good for. He adds that vibe coding "doesn't really scale," so friends who are strong engineers later took the project and improved it in ways he had run out of time for.

1:11:27

Contrarian Corner: seed investors in "AI companies" will lose a lot

Lessin's contrarian view is that seed investors backing companies branded as AI companies will lose "an impossibly large amount of money" in the coming years. He stresses that startups should use AI. Not doing so would be like not using the cloud in 2010 or the internet in 2000. His distinction is between a real business that AI supercharges and a company whose pitch is "we are the AI blank." He thinks the latter are "all going to zero."

His argument has several parts. First, he calls OpenAI "a terrible seed investment." By his account, even at a $500 billion market cap, seed investors have made roughly 25x, which he calls middling at best for the company defining the moment. The reason is that these businesses are so capital-intensive, and seed investing doesn't work in highly capital-intensive businesses. Second, he argues AI is "fundamentally commoditizing," and it is unclear what the lock-in or durable value is. Third, he says people are desperate for something to believe in. He uses SpaceX, a company he says he loves, as an example: if Elon Musk's storytelling can make it worth $1.4 trillion to the public market, large pools of capital may do well riding narrative-driven "religion." For a disciplined seed investor, though, he frames it as a dangerous game of getting out before the narrative collapses.

He places this in a historical frame he calls "terra nova." In his telling, the U.S. thrived for generations on the frontier of the West. His and Lenny's generation had the internet as a "digital terra nova." Since then, every generation has wanted its own. He sees mobile as mostly "more internet." He thinks crypto is the closest thing to a new terra nova, and he places the "AI god" narratives in the same pattern. His conclusion is that AI is incredibly powerful for existing businesses and structures, but "not a great startup opportunity."

What he invests in instead are companies dealing with the cultural and societal implications of AI. He cites Sublime Security and Outtake as examples tied to the theme of the Voight-Kampff test from Blade Runner: determining whether you're dealing with a real person or a bot. He also mentions businesses that AI will disrupt without being AI businesses themselves. His summary: you're going to win because of something else, and AI will be a propellant.

1:16:27

Lightning round

For book recommendations, Lessin names The Ancient City, which he is reading on Marc Andreessen's recommendation (he says he likes to make fun of Andreessen). He also lists Man's Search for Meaning and Area 51: An Uncensored History, which he calls "not very erudite" but great. His one serious pick is Will Durant's The Lessons of History, which he describes as short and the best return on hours invested. He also recommends The Fish That Ate the Whale, about the "Banana King," and The Last Kings of Shanghai, while noting they're longer, more story-driven books. His favorite recent show is Landman. He relays a founder in Midland, Texas complaining that Silicon Valley people now think they understand the energy industry because they watched it, and says he believes it.

His product pick is a dating app, rendered in the transcript as "June Date." He says he doesn't use it because he's happily married. As he describes it, users run a structured prompt through ChatGPT that distills a profile from their chat history, and matching is based on that. He says the profile it generated for him was a "shockingly good description" of who he is. He notes this fits his thesis of businesses with AI implications that aren't AI businesses. He also recounts trying matchmaking among his own newsletter readers with a small LLM. It failed for lack of "liquidity": about a hundred impressive women wrote in, compared with a handful of men, some of whom asked for a "25-year-old hot girlfriend." His newsletter has no sign-up page. People get added if they email him or interact with the LLM chatbot on his website, which is trained on his writing.

Asked for a life motto, he says he doesn't have one. He mentions instead a poster hanging in his gym from a Facebook hackathon after Google+ launched, reading "Carthage must burn." He says that period, working past midnight every night, produced some of his most fun work experiences.

On podcasting, he describes More or Less, co-hosted with his wife and with Dave and Brit Morin. He and his wife are the default contrarians, the Morins think everything is amazing, and his wife, who runs The Information, prompts them with what's happening in the news. He says it's like talking to friends for an hour a week, posted fairly raw. They'd do it even if no one listened. It isn't huge, has no growth strategy, and isn't paid. What surprised him is how useful it has been. People in the industry he cares about pick up pieces of it and bring them up, and sometimes an entrepreneur shows up after an episode with a better idea than the one the hosts discussed.