November, 2008.
Academic aspirations took a backseat to Xiao’s desire for fame and wealth. He never found the need to hide his ambitions; rather, he made them known at every available opportunity. In his interview with Forbes magazine, when for the first time he entered the ranks of the Forbes World’s Wealthiest 400 people, among the questions the interviewer asked him was, “What is your biggest regret?” Xiao answered, without missing a beat, that it was being interviewed for an article about the World’s Wealthiest 400 people and not the World’s Wealthiest 100. And the executive board members of Ubatoo fell in love with him all over again. He was living proof that capitalism was honorable if enough public relations and money were behind it.
Xiao exemplified the Silicon Valley success story. He was a large, fast-talking man whose family had emigrated from Hong Kong in the 1970s. In stark contrast to Ubatoo’s erudite research environment, his lack of academic credentials made him a controversial choice for the position of Ubatoo’s CEO. Nevertheless, his experience, unabashed brashness and vision for the company had resonated with the company’s board, and an offer had been extended. Now, after seven years of being the very public front man of Ubatoo, his academic credentials, or lack thereof, were long forgotten. The sole purpose of his one degree, from high school, was to serve as a dusty decoration in his father’s home library.
Despite six years of working with Xiao, Atiq dreaded setting foot into Xiao’s office. The supple leather office seats placed in front of his desk had been specially crafted to sink deeply with the slightest weight. At Xiao’s insistence, all visitors were offered only these seats. When Xiao sat in his own chair, behind an imposing, oversized, hand-carved desk of dark wood imported from India, the pecking order in the room was firmly established. If Xiao was in a good mood, he would kindly move the unmistakably too expensive, and exceedingly gaudy, trinkets at the edge of the desk that obstructed any seated visitor’s view of him. Were he not in such a charitable mood, the infrequent sight of his eyes when he leaned forward to peer over the clutter would be all that the visitor was granted.
“Atiq, you’ve had an incredible quarter here,” Xiao said with a smile. He started moving the trinkets. “Your new group is on track to account for more than $220 million in revenues this year. That’s a great beginning for your Touchpoints project.”
“Thanks, Xiao. We’re excited about the results, too. And there’s so much more that we have planned for this quarter. We’ve already started—”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Atiq,” Xiao said as he interrupted Atiq in mid-sentence. Here it comes. “Just imagine how much more you would have accomplished had you been able to meet your hiring goals. Your group has some of the highest margin dollars for our company; we make more for every dollar spent on you and your projects than any other research group here. And, when you don’t make your hiring goals, per person, you lose more than any group here. What happened?”
Atiq wasn’t sure if he should defend himself, point out the flaws in Xiao’s logic, or whether it was a rhetorical question. Probably all of the above. “Xiao, there were a lot of moving pieces that had to fall into place to get where we are. We’ll make up the hiring this quarter at the very latest . . .”
“Atiq, I’m not really looking for excuses. You know better than that. It’s a tough project. I get it. I just want to know if you think you can manage this responsibility and growth by yourself? This is a hypergrowth environment we’re in right now. It’s like 1999 all over again. But this time, we’ve got it right and we’re on the proverbial rocket ship. Hiring is the single most important thing we do. It’s like Sun Tzu said, ‘Although there is stupid haste in war, winning has never been reached with long delays.’ We need to be firing on all cylinders. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
The “Art of War” quote had come out. That was Xiao’s signature way of ending a conversation, as if quoting (or if history serves as a guide, more likely misquoting) from a sacred text that contained irrefutable, and somehow universally applicable, arguments.
Years of working with Xiao hadn’t eased the awkwardness of this moment. Eventually Xiao would start talking. It was just a matter of waiting and fidgeting like a scolded child until he did.
“Atiq, I want to help you succeed. Why don’t you take over the internship contest that Lynn is setting up this year? It usually yields a few good interns who convert to full-timers.”
“Xiao, I think Lynn will be disappointed. She’s been working on organizing this intern thing for weeks.” The last thing Atiq wanted was to be in charge of the intern process. There were so many mediocre candidates to cull through.
“Yes, but she’s doing fine in her hiring, Atiq. It’s your group I’m worried about. I think it’s best if you handle it.”
Acquiesce to the punishment. “I’ll talk to Lynn today.”
“Thanks, Atiq. One more thing before you go. It’s time for your quarterly bonus. What do you think would be appropriate for this quarter? It’ll be long overdue by the time I finally get to it, if we don’t figure it out right now.”
Well, this was certainly new. Usually bonuses arrived in a sealed envelope and were never spoken about. “I don’t know, Xiao. I think that it was a pretty good quarter, all in all. Touchpoints is ahead of schedule.”
“Come on, Atiq. Just a number,” Xiao said as he typed a few strokes on his keyboard. “I have the spreadsheet loaded on my screen. Just tell me how much you need to keep you going so maybe next quarter you can actually meet your hiring goals.”
These little repeated jabs were a lovely characteristic of Xiao that Atiq tried his best to overlook. Unlike Xiao, who had embraced Capitalism as a religion wholeheartedly, for Atiq, it was difficult to talk about money so brazenly. Never had money been talked about so openly while growing up or even now in his own household. Though his parents were not religious, perhaps the one thing they took to heart and tried to pass on to their children from their mild Islamic upbringing was that money was to be shared, not hoarded. It would be good to pass that on to his children, too, assuming it was still possible. But, alas, he wasn’t at home, and Xiao wasn’t going to wait much longer. With Xiao, shyness and modesty got you nowhere. “Well, last quarter was $400,000, and this quarter was really quite good. Despite the hiring, everything about Touchpoints is going amazingly well, including more revenue than expected already. I leave it to you, of course, but how about $450,000?”
“Got it. Thanks, Atiq. Don’t forget to talk to Lynn today.”
Atiq smiled. At least there was a silver lining. He offered his hand to shake, which Xiao firmly did, with a large genuine smile. Without another word, Atiq walked out the door. As he left, Xiao typed in $399,999 and submitted the form.