Directive 17
We build companies that improve the human experience.
I started Directive 17 with what may be the least sophisticated-sounding investment thesis in the history of finance:
Help and teach people how to become people again.
That's it.
No 47-page white paper.
No chart showing a $14 trillion TAM.
No consultant-created acronym that requires another slide to explain the first slide.
Just people.
Because somewhere along the way, I think we got incredibly good at building technology, companies, algorithms, platforms and conveniences—and not nearly as good at building lives people actually enjoy living.
We can have groceries delivered in 17 minutes.
We can have artificial intelligence write a business plan in 30 seconds.
We can watch practically every movie ever made without getting off the couch.
We can order dinner without speaking to another human being.
We can work without leaving our bedroom.
We can date without meeting anyone.
We can have 4,000 "friends" and nobody to call on a shitty Tuesday afternoon.
This is progress?
Maybe.
But something seems to have gone terribly wrong.
I believe Directive 17 may be the only investment firm in the world whose primary purpose is to make people smile.
Try putting that into a traditional investment committee memo.
Investment Objective: Make people happy.
Target IRR: Excellent.
Secondary Objective: Make people laugh, connect, play, live longer, feel better and occasionally forget where they left their fucking phone.
It sounds ridiculous.
Until you think about it.
Then it starts sounding remarkably rational.
Because happiness has become scarce.
Human connection has become scarce.
Belonging has become scarce.
Play has become scarce.
Wonder has become scarce.
And increasingly, simply having a really good fucking day has become scarce.
Scarcity creates value.
So maybe happiness isn't such a crazy investment thesis after all.
I hesitate to call Directive 17 an impact investment firm because that immediately makes people think we are going to invest $20 million in biodegradable drinking straws and lose $19.7 million of it.
That's not the plan.
Financial returns matter.
A lot.
We intend to build extraordinarily valuable companies.
We want our partners to make money.
We want the businesses we create and invest in to become category-defining enterprises.
But we reject the idea that financial return has to be the only return that matters.
Why can't a company make money and make someone's life better?
Why can't entertainment make adults feel like kids again?
Why can't sports create community?
Why can't hospitality make strangers talk to each other?
Why can't technology make us more human instead of less?
Why can't healthcare help people live healthier lives before they're sick?
Why can't a business save someone's life and still generate a great return?
And why can't an investment firm measure its success partly by something Wall Street has never figured out how to put into a spreadsheet:
How many people did we make smile?
Look at the things Directive 17 gets interested in and you might reasonably conclude that nobody here understands the concept of staying in one industry.
Sports.
Entertainment.
Hospitality.
Artificial intelligence.
Health and longevity.
Community.
Immersive experiences.
Human connection.
Mental health.
Technology.
Experiences that don't even have a category yet.
There is a reason.
The category isn't the thesis.
The human outcome is.
We are interested in businesses that can make life better.
Sometimes that means something incredibly serious.
Technology that can improve healthcare.
Systems that can protect people.
Tools that can help governments work better.
Ways to address loneliness, mental health and human disconnection.
Things that might literally save lives.
And sometimes making life better means something much simpler.
A sporting event that makes 20,000 people lose their minds for three hours.
A restaurant where dinner accidentally turns into a four-hour evening.
A private club where someone walks in knowing nobody and walks out with five new friends.
An immersive experience that makes a 52-year-old CEO temporarily behave like a 12-year-old.
A place so unexpected that someone walks through the door, looks around and says:
"Holy shit. This is awesome."
That counts too.
Maybe more than we realize.
One of the things that fascinates me most is putting happiness into places where nobody expects to find it.
There are entire industries seemingly designed by committees whose primary objective was to eliminate joy.
Healthcare.
Government.
Financial services.
Transportation.
Corporate software.
Airports.
Waiting rooms.
God help us, insurance.
Why?
Who decided serious things have to feel miserable?
We want to rethink that.
We want to create new kinds of experiences across businesses and industries that historically have never been places to laugh, smile, connect or feel wonder.
Sometimes that will mean investing in an extraordinary entrepreneur who already sees it.
Sometimes it will mean helping an existing company see what it could become.
And sometimes the thing we think should exist simply won't exist yet.
In that case:
We'll build it ourselves.
This becomes even more important as artificial intelligence changes the world.
AI is going to make an enormous number of things faster, cheaper and easier.
That's incredible.
But convenience isn't happiness.
Efficiency isn't meaning.
Optimization isn't love.
And an algorithm cannot replace the feeling of sitting around a table with people you care about, laughing so hard someone starts crying.
The more digital the world becomes, the more valuable genuinely human experiences may become.
Touching.
Eating.
Playing.
Laughing.
Competing.
Creating.
Discovering.
Falling in love.
Making friends.
Feeling like you belong somewhere.
Technology should give us more time to do those things.
Not eliminate the need for them.
Directive 17 wants to invest on both sides of that future: in extraordinary technology and in the things that technology can never replace.
Traditional investment firms measure returns in multiples.
2x.
5x.
10x.
IRR.
EBITDA.
Enterprise value.
We measure those things too.
We're not idiots.
But I want Directive 17 to have another return calculation.
Call it ROH.
Return on Humanity.
Did something we invested in make people healthier?
Did it make someone less lonely?
Did it create friendships?
Did it strengthen a community?
Did it give families something to experience together?
Did it make somebody laugh?
Did it create wonder?
Did it give someone hope?
Did it save a life?
And yes:
Did it make people smile?
If we can build companies that produce exceptional financial returns while doing those things, I think we've created something much more interesting than another investment firm.
We've created a reason for capital to exist beyond simply creating more capital.
I don't think the world needs another investment firm.
There are plenty.
I think the world needs more people willing to ask a different question.
Not simply:
"How much money can this make?"
But:
"What happens to people if this succeeds?"
If the answer is that people become happier, healthier, safer, more connected, more curious, more alive—or simply smile a little more often—we become very interested.
And if it can also become an extraordinary business?
Even better.
That's Directive 17.
We invest.
We create.
We acquire.
We reinvent.
We occasionally wander into industries where people probably wish we wouldn't.
And when we can't find the company we think the world needs, we build it.
Because despite all the technology, wealth, intelligence and progress humanity has created, maybe the next great investment opportunity isn't teaching machines how to become more like people.
Maybe it's:
Helping and teaching people how to become people again.
And if we can make a lot of people smile along the way?
That's a return worth investing in.