AI thinks I'm dead

Last year, something strange started to happen.

A client reported back that the Christmas gift I'd left them had been confused for an urn that contained my ashes, and a few different AI bots started to reference that I'd also died.

So - both human and machine error (you don't often see that happening!).

I've subsequently found out why AI thinks I've passed over - there are several memorial page for people who shared a name with me*. As AI scrapes the internet for its knowledge, then I can understand how it came to that conclusion.

What I'm slightly more concerned by, is how so many people in my client's employment could all come to the same conclusion (especially when the gift in question was a branded wooden box containing a bottle of wine...).

However, given how I can sometimes court controversy (as seen by regulators opening files on me, getting uninvited from speaking at conferences, etc), maybe "but it can't have been me - I was dead at the time, and you can fact-check that with AI" is the ultimate dodge for being able to get out of trouble?

* https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/legacyremembers/adrian-ashton-obituary?id=43461197 and https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/legacyremembers/adrian-ashton-obituary?id=41324564

When is a community not a community? (or, am I an Albatross?)

As freelancers and small business owners, there seem to be constant exhortations for us to be part of a community. And I recognise the various benefit of being part of such peer networks, having invested time, emotion, money (and even professional reputation) in many over the years.

But over the years, despite having been part of many 'communities', I'm starting to wonder if I'm accidentally having an 'albatross effect' on them, as they all seem to 'die' after my being involved with them..!

However, this post isn't about me suggesting I'm a potential jinx, but rather to ponder how the ending of a self proclaimed community might reveal just how far it really was ever a real community to begin with:

Of the gravestones raised in memorial in this post, I'm going to immediately discount Micro Biz Matters Day (which I was a keen supporter of, sometime roadie, and occasionally part of the line-up for), which was staged every year for 8 years, because it never presented itself as a community but rather as a part of a wider campaign that's been championed by Tony Robinson - and campaigns all have a natural life, and the small teams who lead them rightly decide when it's time to move on to the next thing.

In contrast, the other 2 examples are worth lingering over:

Freelance Heroes (FH) was created in 2016 and referred to itself as a community for freelancers - and indeed, created lots of things to facilitate such a sense and practice of community, inspiring many other freelancer communities to coalesce in response to their mere existence: from it's original Facebook group, conferences were added, chat forums introduced, twitter hours with member of the community being invited to lead and manage them, 'featured freelancers' profiled (published interviews and youtube lives), peer learning sessions by member for members, a virtual library of books written by its members, and optional paid subscriptions (with additional pirkx). 

But at the end of 2023, it was suddenly announced by email that FH would imminently be being closed, and all of its associated artefacts and IP (website, forums, blogs, etc) would be being taken down.

Reasons were given about financial pressures, and people's capacity etc, and while there's plenty that FH can be proud of having achieved and influenced, for a body that presented itself as being a community, the upset that many expressed in the immediate wake of the announcement is possibly based on all of us feeling we were part of just that: a community. That the owners of that community seemingly hadn't trusted or respected us enough to share that there may be tough decisions to be taken, or to try and engage us all in conversations about possible succession and legacy options, maybe helps to explain how and why so many people were upset by the announcement - after 7 years of feeling we were part of a community, we suddenly realised that we never were in any meaningful way when it came to the big important decisions about us.

And more recently, the Good Business Club (GBC), established 6 years ago has suddenly made a similar announcement about closing up in the next few weeks - a shock decision that's seemingly come out of nowhere after years of all us members of it being encouraged to be actively involved in leading and developing activities and initiatives for the benefit of the wider community of its members. So again, I'm left wondering, how much of a community were we really being allowed to be, if we can all be disbanded by a discretionary decision of the founders of it?

Importantly, for context, I think there's a lot of things that have been going on behind the scenes at GBC which are highly charged and emotive in leading up to this apparently 'out of nowhere' announcement - based on the official statement of its being wound up seemingly contradicting itself: 

(1) The founder opens by saying that they are stepping down from running the GBC after a tough professional and personal year (but no sense yet of this spelling the end for the GBC, as they'd always clearly managed their personal role and identity as being separate and distinct from that of GBC); 

(2) it's then immediately stated in a bold heading that the community will continue; 

(3) but it's then clarified at the very end that all the forums, websites, and membership fees will be cancelled and ended in the next few weeks (and we're signposted to another paid 'community' we can join instead - which costs 25% more). So actually, despite how this statement began, it really is a 'so long and thanks for all the fish' goodbye to all of it.

All of this leaves me wondering and feeling if its really worth my investing time, energy, money, and emotion into any self proclaimed 'community', when at any time, a small group of people within it can suddenly pull the plug on it all with no warning or notice (as added embarrassment in both instances, I'd been actively working on developing new strategic partnerships for FH with other national sector bodies on their encouragement and with their full knowledge, when their announcement was made with no prior warning - so first I knew of it, was also when the contacts in other bodies I'd been speaking with also found out. And a week before GBC announced its closing, the leaders of it had approached me to talk about my developing and running events and initiatives in the community's name). 

Maybe all these self-proclaimed 'communities' we see out there, aren't really communities at all, if the people who make them up are never actually trusted with hard truths or realities about looming difficult decisions facing it, nor given opportunity to step up and help to mitigate challenges that it may be being faced with?

What I'm taking from these knocks (there have been others over the years - I'm just reflecting on the most recent ones in this post), is that in the future, any group that presents itself as a 'community' and invites me to join, will get a bit more of a due diligence on my part to see just how far it really is a community, or it's actually just a club controlled by a selected few that would actually just like my money to help keep their idea going. And at any moment, the 'rug may be pulled out from under our feet' without warning, and we all find ourselves back in this stage of shock and disbelief about what's happening.

Finally, I'm aware that some people who may read this post will find it hard and painful, because they were part of the leadership teams for these communities, and so will naturally feel a sense of responsibility for how the ending of these groups played out, despite their best efforts and intentions.

This post isn't meant to be any smear or indictment of their character, but an opportunity for me to grieve these wider groups' passing (moving through the stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance), and to reflect on the manner in which the process has been managed has on me for how I approach similar things in the future. Very often when 'communities' end, there's an outpouring of encouragement and support for those that made the decision and had bee the figures heads in leading/founding them (and rightly so), but rarely an opportunity or space for those of us who were part of them to reflect on what their ending means for us. 

death and the entrepreneur

There's a famous adage that goes along the lines of "there are only 2 certainties in life: death and taxes".

And whilst there seems to be a constant flow of articles, conversations, arguments, and such like around tax and business, it seems no-one wants to talk about death and business.

Specifically - what happens to your business when you die.

My reasons for such apparent morbidity in starting to explore this theme are multiple - I was asked to support a Board of Directors work out what to do with the business that they were responsible for after its founder and chief exec unexpectedly passed in their sleep (not that easy when they kept all the passwords and security details for the bank, Companies House, HMRC, etc in their head, and for various reasons it wasn't possible for me to obtain a copy of their death certificate from their grieving spouse...); and I'm also occasionally approached by founders of social enterprises who've recently received terminal diagnoses and are keen to try and ensure that their efforts in this life will have a worthwhile legacy.

And there's a clear business case for trying to get us to talk about death more openly too - research shows that most business continue to struggle for years after their founders death.

Ultimately, I think it comes down to succession - whilst we may be very good at planning for all sorts of risks and contingencies in our enterprises, charities, and others, we rarely (if ever) plan for us not to be a part of it, and think about what sort of future it should (or could) have without us being involved with it.

We seem to have also fetishised entrepreneurs - tech entrepreneurs and hailed and presented as saviours of our economy; health ones will save us from suffering illness of all types; and social ones will fix all the problems in our local communities; with nothing but the magical power of their will and without the need to rely on others to get there. That's a lot of expectation to heap on someone who's just trying to see how far their idea will go... 

As entrepreneurs, we're already more likely to suffer mental ill health (which seems to be repeatedly quietly glossed over); have our relationships with friends and family suffer; and be more likely to be victims of targeted crime.

So if we die unexpectedly, then the venture that we've gambled all of the above on, will likely crumble and be messily wound up. It will leave people upset and angry, and mean that all of the above we suffered was for nothing, as it's likely that there'll be no legacy to what we were trying to build up (because we never thought we could die because we're the ones who are supposed to be saving everything and everyone else).

In those rare instances where entrepreneurs do dally with thoughts about the grim reaper, it's usually a conversation with their accountants who direct them as to the ways in which they can get the most money out of the business they've built to date to enjoy their final months with - or can soften the loss on their immediate family.

It seems to me that as entrepreneurs we don't talk about our own mortality enough in ensuring that the visions which have driven us to risk everything we have to realise them, will have a good chance of continuing to impact the world and change communities for the better, even if we're not around to celebrate that as it happens.

Death is already far too taboo a subject, and as such, creates lots of unnecessary problems for those around us when we leave this life.

So - what's your plan for your enterprise (be it social, charitable, co-operative, private or other) if you were to suddenly not wake up, or receive the news from your Doctor that none of us ever want to hear?