It would appear that summer has gone on a holiday of its own. I hope it will come back, but given that we’re scheduled to have another week of rain, it doesn’t look promising. That being said, it’s no excuse to sit at home. Luckily, I’ve got likeminded friends (including Viktor of Viktor’s itinerary fame), who proposed a hike.
I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t immediately jump at the chance. So I did a little digging of where we could go. The route needed to meet a few conditions — it couldn’t be too far, it couldn’t have too many roads, it needed to be dog friendly, and it had to be somewhere we hadn’t been before. When I saw the Highbrook and Horsted Keynes Circular on All Trails, I knew it was the one.
Sunday morning greeted us with sunshine and blue skies. Then again, English weather is nothing if not predictably unpredictable, so by the time we stocked up on sustenance, picked up our friends and made it to the Bluebell Railway carpark, it was pouring rain. But we’ve been through this before and prepared accordingly with rain jackets and waterproof shoes.
The trek began with the steam engine at Horsted Keynes setting off a gust of smoke, which we admired as we made our way to the start of the trail. Fun fact — Bluebell Railway is the world’s first maintained standard gauge steam passenger railway, and these days it’s run almost entirely by volunteers.
The start of the trail ran alongside the train tracks — a wonderful place to have witnessed the train up close, but alas, it had already departed. We meandered across fields and up hills, passing farms and woodlands, pausing to admire quickly houses and beautifully manicured lawns. At one point, we even came across a herd of deer playing in the forest.
It was the perfect walk for a rainy Sunday — not too challenging, but with enough uphill sections to make it worth our while. We ended up walking 8km, finishing back at the car park. It could’ve been extended slightly were we not put off crossing a farm by a large black bull making a few aggressive steps in our direction as we tried to walk around him towards the gate. Turns out, he probably saved us some trouble, as it became a proper downpour within minutes — minutes we’d saved by walking on the road for a few hundred metres.
We celebrated our achievement with a delicious lunch at a local pub, and headed home.
The time is WoW. We chanted this refrain over and over again as group photos were taken at last night’s World of Women event, celebrating the NFT project’s two year anniversary. Two years is significant — there’s a common adage in web3 that time moves quicker in any other industry, so a project that’s survived for over a year is already considered established.
Held for WoW NFT holders and their guests, it was a networking event exactly to my taste — not too big, no loud music, delicious food, wide choice of drinks. Most importantly, everyone was incredibly warm, welcoming, and eager to connect.
Though I have yet to purchase anything from either WoW or its most recent drop — WoW Galaxy — I’m seriously considering it after yesterday. NFTs are such an interesting phenomenon in that, much like art, they hold very little intrinsic value. Unlike most art, however, the value of NFTs is very much derived from the community surrounding the project.
And yesterday, I witnessed that community in action. Despite not knowing anyone except two Verisart alumni, it was incredibly easy to introduce myself and start chatting. I was immediately sucked into fascinating discussions about topics as diverse as data privacy, the new Worldcoin token, and the balance between security and convenience in the digital age, particularly whether custodianship matters to consumers in the long term or is more of a niche concern.
Though we were largely in agreement about the direction of travel, there were diverse opinions about whether people are willing to surrender their data for the sake of using convenient tools, such as Google Maps. One fellow attendee was ready to share his data for anything he perceived as simplifying his life, including in cases where the data controller in question could potentially use this data maliciously.
Another visitor said he himself was concerned with privacy, but he didn’t expect the majority of the population to care, and if the goal is to achieve mainstream success, it shouldn’t be a primary focus. My take would be less contrarian — while it’s critical we do our best to safeguard data, we also need to ensure we provide value in the products we build, and often that requires knowing personal information about the individuals we’re building for.
In the case of web3 and projects like World of Women, there is arguably a solution in the form of community, which acts almost as a proxy for personal data. The key to success for these projects lies in the ability to demonstrate utility to the user beyond speculation. In other words, if an NFT holder buys in to the project’s storytelling, that’s reflective of their values, and the very fact of ownership can then be used to forge connections in a new, more meaningful way.
The World of Women team spoke of a database, wherein anyone anywhere in the world who owns a WoW NFT could search for a potential collaborator, confident that whoever they approach would share a similar set of values. It sounds promising. After all, escaping the speculative element is about finding these alternative use cases and ensuring users see value in a project.
As I made my way home after the event, I reflected on the broader meaning underpinning everything we do. Ultimately, I think it’s something of a spectrum or a Venn diagram, with personal gain and satisfaction on one side and the greater good on the other. The perfect equilibrium is building something that not only offers utility, but resonates strongly with human needs — that’s what enriches peoples’ lives. And so, the more I immerse myself in the world of web3 and NFTs and digital art, and the more I understand the motivations driving participants, the closer I get to the concept of adjacent possible in my work, which contributes to my own sense of satisfaction.
Yesterday, I sat through a 90 minute live action game advert. I should’ve suspected. Though Fray at Wilton’s Music Hall opens with hip hop host Fusion encouraging the audience to give 10/10 energy, the awkward attempts to pitch the Fray mobile game and TikTok filter dampen the sentiment. And the rest of the performance does nothing to sustain it.
With dance, it’s often hit or miss. In the case of Fray, the dancing is a hit. Everything else is a miss.
The plot made absolutely no sense. Which would be fine if the play focussed entirely on the dancing. But the dancing was unnecessarily interrupted with narration, though there was nothing cohesive about that narrative. The only explanation we could find for the existence of this piece was the fact that CandyBomber or whoever the game developer is really needed to advertise.
Had Fray allowed its dancers to dominate the stage for those 90 minutes, I’m almost positive it would’ve resulted in Fusion’s aspirational 10/10 energy. The dancers were fantastic — and the staging was gorgeous. Wilton’s is such a beautiful venue, and the way Fray played around with the lights and the dancers’ outfits and masks resulted in striking scenes.
But the storyline was terrible. Of course, it could be that my husband and I were not the target audience. But that begs the question — who was?
After an evening exploring artificial intelligence (AI) from a product management perspective, I jumped at the chance to reflect on the questions of morality this new technological advancement poses. So I booked tickets to see Disruption at Park Theatre.
The play centres around a group of university friends living in New York City. All of them have big decisions to make — whether to have a baby, whether to buy expensive property, whether to get a divorce — and their position tends to be in opposition to that of their partner.
Enter their old friend Nick, who’s had tremendous success with a previous company and has now partnered with the mysterious wunderkid Raven to develop a new algorithm that uses available data to make better, more effective decisions on your behalf.
In other words, the argument is that the algorithm can calculate which outcome of those big questions will make you happiest. Nick and Raven proceed to manipulate his friends — in morally repugnant ways — to do as the algorithm states.
It was understandable what the play was trying to achieve. By tracing the direct impact such an algorithm could have on human lives, it demonstrated not only how terrifying AI could be, but how readily available we make our data. The problem, in my view, was that the storylines used were so banal in an attempt to create drama that the effect proved minimal.
To me, it was the examples and the questions in between all the drama that I found the most fascinating — and most probably. The idea of big tech manipulating real life is already visible with things like programmatic advertising, where you’ll see different ads depending on various factors, like the weather.
So the example of Waze directing you onto a quieter road and the traffic lights turning red for the cars most likely to stop at the next shopping centre — perfectly within the realms of possibility. The idea of an algorithm telling you to get a divorce and then setting you up with an old flame by orchestrating a reunion on a cross-country flight? Less so.
But it did raise some interesting questions about how technology like this could be used for nefarious purposes. And touched briefly on how it would affect the next generation as children grow up in a world where all their data is analysed by algorithms to control their behaviour. Reflecting on the play with this in mind definitely gives it more sinister undertones.
In any case, I think it was an interesting piece and I don’t regret going, but I do wish they had focussed on the more relevant, immediate questions, which are dramatic enough without any unnecessary exaggeration. I also think the acting could’ve been better — although the cast were all experienced actors, I couldn’t help feeling that the majority were painfully overacting. The dubious American accents didn’t help either.
And anyway, my feeling is that building the right foundation for Web3 will do away with many of these issues. So maybe I’ll focus on that.
I had a pretty unique experience on Wednesday. Rather than presenting to an industry audience about my product, I presented to an audience of product managers about my industry. Having been in Web3 for a number of years, I’ve adopted much of the jargon — so much so that I often need to remind myself that even words like “Web3” may still be alien to a lot of people.
The organisers of the event — The Future for PMs…AI, Web3, Metaverse — at which I was speaking had asked me to break it down to the absolute basics. I’d like to think that the number of people who came up to me afterwards or wrote to me on LinkedIn later to thank me for a succinct, coherent explanation is testament to the fact that I was successful in fulfilling that request.
But if all these people found it useful, perhaps so would the wider Internet — so why not write it down? Without further ado, please find below a slightly edited version of my presentation (the link to which you can find in the previous paragraph):
What do you think of when you hear the term “Web3”? If it’s a monkey jpg, you’re not entirely wrong – but let’s delve into the why of this equation.
So what is Web3?
Web3 is a term that was coined in 2014 by Ethereum co-founder Gavin Wood, but entered widespread circulation circa 2021 – which you may remember as the year of the NFT boom, when those monkey jpgs were everywhere.
Essentially, it’s an umbrella term for the next iteration of the internet. If you’re still a little unsure as to what that means, let me break it down.
First, there was Web 1.0, lasting into the early 2000s, which allowed us to read. It was mostly static pages and the main differentiator with the latter stages is that the public was consuming content rather than actively producing it.
Next came Web 2.0, which is the stage we’re in now – we’re able to write. In other words, we can engage with the platform and other users and produce our own content – but the catch is that this content is now owned and controlled by third parties.
But we’re at the cusp of Web 3.0 – Web3. And while the specifics are still undefined, the main advantage is that we’ll be able – are able – to own. So rather than a third party controlling our data, it will be owned, managed, and monetised by us.
And that’s what the Web3 ecosystem is all about.
The difference between any Web3 product or service and any new “Web2” products or services is that rather than make incremental improvements to existing structures, it needs to reimagine them in line with the key principles of decentralisation, trustlessness, and transparency.
Decentralisation means no one entity consolidates anything. Instead, data is spread out and democratised. This operates through the next tenet – trustlessness. So instead of trusting individuals or entities, you’re trusting – and verifying – code.
Which also means that everything is transparent. Because Web3 uses the blockchain, there’s a public record of all transactions and interactions.
But, of course, building this brave new world requires continuity. We just got the hang of mobile banks, the whole world is not going to turn into Web3 natives overnight. So that’s where I come in.
I’m working at the intersection of Web2 and Web3. My job is to sort of ease consumers into Web3 with familiar Web2 interfaces. And that’s been true for every Web3 job I’ve had. The focus has always been on bridging the gap between Web2 and Web3.
So from a product management perspective, I’m happy to clear up some misconceptions.
A lot of people will expect that you need intricate knowledge of blockchain – this isn’t really the case, you’ve got the engineers to help you out with the specifics. Your objective is to understand why you’re using blockchain – what problem is it addressing that requires blockchain specifically?
Is it the public nature of it? The immutability? Is it interoperability with other products and services? You tell me.
I’ve also heard and read a lot of Web3 product managers talk about execution above strategy. In their view, you almost need to take a feature factory approach — execute fast, see what sticks. I’m going to disagree with this – I think when you’ve got a clear understanding of why you’re doing something, you’re only open to the experimentation that gets you closer to your goal.
There’s also the belief that the only way you can communicate to your users is Discord or Twitter. And while community is absolutely crucial in Web3, the user has always been the focus of a product manager.
Even in a space with minimal data, you’re going to have multiple touch points with your users and they’re going to engage with whatever it is you’re creating, so I promise it’s not just writing “GM” and “WAGMI” at Internet strangers all day.
Coming back to experimentation, of course there’s a lot of uncertainty, but even so, you’re going to outline your baseline metrics and you’ll benchmark against them to measure success. Some of it will work, some of it won’t, but I don’t really feel like that’s any different to product management in Web2.
That being said, there are differences in Web2 and Web3 in terms of the amount of time dedicated to specific areas of product management. But there’s no reason that a product manager experienced in Web2 — or any other industry, for that matter, won’t succeed in Web3.
We’re still at the very beginning of Web3 taking shape, and the biggest opportunity is being part of defining that. A recent Coinbase report stated that 52% of Fortune 500 companies have pursued Web3 initiatives since 2020, and despite the fact that we are in a bear market right now, that continues even now.
I can tell you that an NFT sale last month – Dmitri Cherniak’s Ringers (The Goose) – beat expectations to fetch $6.8 million and become the second most expensive generative art piece ever sold.
So, in summary, versatile product management is required in everything from DeFi to NFTs. In my view, the biggest opportunity in Web3 is in the creativity and innovation you bring to the table, as well as the impact you can have. And again, as Web3 is still very much in its infancy, your unique points of view are going to be imperative to building a more egalitarian third iteration of the Internet.
It’s almost unbelievable to think that I came back from Riga three days ago, so quickly was I swept up in the whirlwind of activity that is my London life. The long weekend away was like a breath of fresh air, an oasis in the chaos — and that’s despite the fact that I barely had time to breathe when I got off the plane in Riga, heading immediately to my grandparents’ house.
A short family reunion later, we — my husband came along this time ‘round — were heading back to the city centre to check in at the hotel. The weather was perfect and we wanted to explore as much of Riga as we could, so we only gave the room a cursory glance before dashing out again.
The first thing we did, of course, was climb the tallest building we could find. Admittedly, saying we “climbed” Pētera baznīca is a little inaccurate, provided the stairs only go to the second floor and there’s a convenient lift for the rest of the way. Then again, as much as I like to climb stairs, it’s quite nice to enjoy the view without needing to first catch your breath.
My favourite thing about Riga is that there’s always enough space — it’s always just right, not too quiet, not too lively. Nothing ever feels too claustrophobic. And everything goes at a slower pace.
We grabbed a snack at Lido, one of our most popular restaurants serving traditional cuisine, then decided to wander around Riga Central Market in hopes of finding a new handbag — the clasp on mine had broken. Unfortunately, the hangars were already closed and the stalls were packing up. Still, it wasn’t entirely a wasted trip. Passing by the adjacent bus station was possibly where I first got my crazy idea that maybe, just maybe, we could fit in a trip to Vilnius.
But it was too early to commit to anything. We still had the following day — the whole purpose of our Riga trip, a friend’s wedding — to enjoy.
The next morning, we piled into a shuttle bus wearing our finest clothing and made the nearly two hour journey to Rūmenes muiža, a manor house not far from the town of Pūre (famous for its chocolate truffles). It was a perfect day and my heart was full — I was so unbelievably happy for the newlyweds, whom I’ve known for almost a decade.
The weather was warm and welcoming, the venue was beautifully decorated, the bride was simply stunning, the guests were impeccably dressed and in good humour — it was a wonderful occasion. It was testament to the nature of the couple that everyone who surrounded them was so authentic, genuine, and sincere in their well wishes. We danced until my feet couldn’t take it anymore and caught the shuttle back to Riga, at which point I kicked off my heels and danced through Kronvalda parks back to the hotel barefoot.
In the morning, I woke up at 6:30 and checked tickets to Vilnius. They were sold out for all buses except the one leaving at 7:00. I nudged my husband awake and asked if he’s up for it. He was. I booked the tickets, and in fifteen minutes we were jumping into a taxi. We made it to the bus terminal with five minutes to spare.
It was a four hour bus ride, but I was too excited to sleep. The same could not be said for Cristian, who spent most of the journey dozing. But as we neared Vilnius, both of us were wide awake and ready to make the most of our six hours in the Lithuanian capital. After a quick caffeine pit stop, we made our way into the city centre, stopping to grab sour cherries from Kalvariju Market along the way.
It soon became evident that Cristian had overdressed for the 32 degree weather, so we popped into a sports shop just off the beautiful shopping street of Vilniaus gatvė to get him a pair of shorts. Much more comfortable, we walked down the promenade by the Neris river to Gediminas Castle Tower and took in the city sights.
As beautiful as it was, I wanted to climb some more, so we ventured onto the Šv. Jonų bažnyčios varpinė — St John’s Church tower. Part of the Vilnius University complex, the cool tower offered a welcome reprieve from the blazing sun. In the adjacent museum, we discovered that the university was founded in the 16th century and attracted a great number of thinkers and scientists from across Europe.
I then wrote to my friend — a former colleague — who’s originally from Vilnius to give us a good restaurant recommendation. He didn’t disappoint. We settled on Etno dvaras, which appeared to be a Lithuanian version of Lido, except that instead of selecting the food you wish to eat from buffet tables, a waiter takes your order. You know, like a typical restaurant. I had some saltibarscai — my very favourite food in the whole wide world — and potato pancakes with sour cream — my second most favourite food in the whole wide world. It was pure heaven.
Not sure what to do next, we tried stopping by an art museum, where we saw some embroidered quilt pieces dedicated to Vilnius landmarks. Though the museum itself had closed for the day, it gave us an idea of where to go next — The Hill of Three Crosses. The crosses were torn down during Soviet times and rebuilt in 1988.
It was a beautiful walk — although uphill, the forest canopy shielded us from the sun. And the view over the city was gorgeous. Conscious of time, we didn’t linger too long, making our way back down and stopping only to rest our weary feet in the river. Refreshed, we made it back to the bus with time to spare and headed back to Riga, conveniently escaping the thunderstorms and stepping out of the bus just as the sun had broken through the storm clouds.
On our last morning, we enjoyed a delicious Kenyan Chemex at artisan coffee roastery Rocket Bean and did a short self-guided tour through the Art Nouveau buildings of Riga, taking in the building designed by famed architect and father of Soviet filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein Mikhail Eisenstein on Elizabetes iela before walking down Alberta iela. There was only time for a final visit with my grandparent and then a stopover in Spice shopping centre for a final Lido lunch before catching the flight back to London.
Ah, Riga, coming home is always so bittersweet — but unfailingly enjoyable.
Each concert is a unique experience. There are so many variables to account for — who you’re seeing, what mood you’re in, what moodthey’re in, where you end up standing, who you’re with — that it’s impossible to replicate. That being said, Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band have somehow managed to put on an unforgettable show every single time they perform.
There’s a reason Springsteen has earned the moniker “The Boss” — he’s simply phenomenal. 73 years old and still performing with the same joy, the same passion, the same energy, and the same charisma as ever — three hours of back-to-back hits, barely stopping to catch his breath.
I think the secret is that Springsteen is authentic, he’s grounded, and he doesn’t take anything too seriously. Too many bands go through endless lineup changes, rock stars are constantly in the news for neverending relationship dramas, but Springsteen & The E Street Band recently celebrated 50 years together — and his marriage to bandmate Patti Scialfa has lasted over three decades.
And that translates to his relationship with his audience. He cares. He stops to shake hands with the front row, he jokes and he chats, he connects. There’s no artifice — not even when it comes to the encore. He plays straight through.
Still, a career spanning more than half a century does mean that some band members have passed on, something Bruce Springsteen pays tribute to. He talks about his own career, and the people he’s known and loved — like being at the deathbed of his friend from his very first band, and dedicates Last Man Standing to his memory. It seems he looks at age with some humour — even playing Glory Days with a hint of irony.
Another testament to Bruce Springsteen’s legacy is the diverse audience he attracts. While the age range did skew older and there was a considerable amount of silver hair in the crowd, the youth weren’t any less passionate — a guy in his early 20s standing behind us knew every word to every song. In front of us, a slightly older man was such an ardent fan that when Springsteen launched into Wrecking Ball, he quickly changed his t-shirt from this year’s tour to one from the Wrecking Ball Tour.
One of my favourite moments was when the band launched into Because the Night, which I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t know was originally written by Springsteen before Patti Smith took it on and added her own twist and her own lyrics. His version was, understandably, quite different, but incredible nevertheless. It’s songs — and performances — like these that make you forget all about the aching in your legs and dance for hours and hours.
It was a beautiful evening, perfectly suited to the aesthetics of Springsteen’s arena rock — standing on the stage with his guitar, silhouetted against the setting sun, he was the epitome of a living legend.
If I’ve gone quiet lately, it’s because I have a new job. It’s an incredibly exciting one – I’m working at the intersection between crypto and the art world. In other words, I’m now being invited to exciting gallery talks that I wouldn’t have heard of previously – much less felt comfortable enough to attend.
Yesterday, I made my way into the depths of Hackney to attend the CRYPTO ART SALON LONDON, hosted by VerticalCrypto Art, EXPANDED.ART and ANNKA KULTYS GALLERY. Yes, it would appear creators in the digital and phygital art space really like capital letters.
The theme of the evening was billed as “the latest topics trending in the digital art and blockchain space”, and was centred around a panel discussion of “the history of generative art with notable collectors, curators, and thought leaders.”
For creatives, they were surprisingly punctual, but I attribute that to the indomitable writer and curator of EXPANDED.ART Anika Meier, who was chairing the panel. After a short introduction by the gallerist Annka Kultys, who welcomed Karate Kid (Collector), Joel Shamrock (Collector), Eva Jäger (Curator, Serpentine Galleries), and Crash Blossom (Artist), the discussion kicked off.
Over the course of the hour long session, the panellists covered topics around the value of NFTs (while trying – and failing – to avoid using the term) and the inescapable spectre of speculation that surrounds all art, both physical, digital, and that in between – as well as thought of ways digital collectibles could combat their tarred reputation.
Eva Jäger didn’t shy away from acknowledging the speculative nature of art head on, working with artists on commissioned pieces that use AI to play with the relationship between ownership and cultural creativeness. Karate Kid was adamant that art is an expression of humanity, which is impossible to put a value on and therefore tends to be arbitrary. It’s all down to how each individual perceives the world and is prepared to pay for something that speaks to them.
Crash Blossom referenced a collection he worked on, wherein the artwork reacted to its on-chain activity, whether that be transferring, selling, or holding. It’s a potential solution to the “pump and dump” nature of artificially hyped NFT drops, wherein the artwork will actually grow in value the more it stays with one owner.
Still more topics were raised by the brief Q&A session with an oversubscribed audience, who asked a series of insightful questions, revisiting topics of speculation, promotional marketing, and the conundrum of why gender and socioeconomic discrimination persists in what is meant to be a more egalitarian structure – and how to avoid replicating existing market models in the future. The consensus? Be the change you want to see.
Speaking to fellow attendees after the event – a combination of technologists, creators, curators, and collectors working in both physical and digital media, but all inspired by the possibilities of web3 – the overwhelming feeling is that detractors just don’t get it yet. NFTs are treated as if they must justify their existence, but to creators, it’s just another medium to use as a means of expression – one still very much in its infancy.
Swordfoosh 