Ian Goh

The Career Trap of Being Too Useful

IanGoh — Thu, 16 Jul 2026 10:08:04 +0000

How capable employees and founders become indispensable to the work while leaving themselves little room to grow.

oBike Warehouse

My first week at a bike-sharing startup began in a warehouse full of bicycles.

The instruction was simple: get them into the city.

So I went with my father to meet the local authorities. I pitched a university, cold-called hotels and shopping centres, and waited outside an office to meet the mayor. One hour I was making slides. The next I was moving bikes or trying to turn an enthusiastic conversation into a real location.

There was no playbook and little separation between roles. If something needed doing and I could help, I did it.

People noticed. They trusted me with more.

That was how I learned the power of being useful.

It was also how I eventually learned the danger.

When usefulness feels like growth

I had left home for a city I had not really wanted to move to. Some days I slept in the car between meetings. At night, work followed me into my dreams.

Still, I loved it.

The mission was visible. Every conversation could unlock a location. Every partnership could put bikes on the ground. Every obstacle forced us to choose what to do next.

My confidence grew meeting by meeting. I went from hoping people would take me seriously to walking into rooms knowing I could answer their questions. Within months, I was helping build a team, planning expansion, dealing with government stakeholders, and carrying responsibilities far beyond my original title.

My journal from that period swings between exhilaration and exhaustion, sometimes in the same entry.

But I felt alive because I was close to the result.

A pitch became permission. Permission became a deployment. A deployment created data, attention, and another problem to solve.

The work kept asking more of me. Not only more hours, but better judgment. I had to read a room, understand what an institution was worried about, decide where to push, and accept the consequences when I got it wrong.

That was ownership before I had a word for it: choosing what happened next and carrying the result.

This was the kind of work I kept searching for later: an unclear route, a visible result, and enough room to affect what happened next.

Being useful accelerated my career because every problem gave me a new ability to develop.

Then that relationship began to change.

The day speed outran permission

During that first week, a university gave us verbal support. We were moving quickly and wanted to prove that the model could work. So we deployed a large batch of bikes on campus before the approval had been put in writing.

For a brief moment, it felt like progress. The bikes were on the ground. We had stopped talking and started moving.

Then the call came.

Remove them, we were told, or they would be locked up.

I remember how quickly excitement turned into dread. We had treated a positive conversation as permission. All the hustle in the world could not turn friendly words into an agreement that did not exist.

That mistake mattered because I had built part of my identity around moving fast. I admired people who found a way around obstacles and refused to wait for perfect conditions. I still do.

But speed does not excuse carelessness. You can be right about the opportunity and still wrong about what you are allowed to do next.

Real responsibility includes boundaries. You need to know which decision is yours, which decision belongs to somebody else, and what trust you are risking when you move.

The lesson was uncomfortable. I had thought usefulness meant seeing what needed to happen and making it happen. Now I understood that good work also required patience, agreement, and respect for decisions I did not own.

It would not be the last time my ability to move became both a strength and a problem.

When the mission starts using you

Then the company started to fail.

At first, we were opening doors. Later, more of our time went into keeping doors from closing.

Direction changed. Pressure grew. The future turned uncertain, but the local work did not stop. There were still partners to manage, a team to steady, and commitments already made.

So I kept moving.

That was what I knew how to do. When something broke, I found another route. When the team felt anxious, I tried to give them confidence. When the wider story grew harder to believe, I focused on the next meeting and the next small win.

For a while, usefulness gave me something solid to hold.

It also delayed a harder truth. No amount of local hustle could repair decisions made far above us. I could protect the team from some uncertainty, but I could not give the company a future. I could keep partnerships warm, but I could not restore a strategy that was disappearing.

The same qualities that had helped me grow were now helping me endure a system I could not change.

That is the cruel part of being capable. You do not leave when the system weakens. You compensate for it.

You carry more because people still need you. You solve one more emergency because walking away feels like abandonment. You keep the machine running, and the fact that it still runs becomes evidence that perhaps things are not as bad as they seem.

But sometimes the machine is only running because you have agreed to absorb the damage.

I did eventually leave. The harder part was not finding another job. It was accepting that loyalty to the people did not require pretending the company could still grow us.

Sometimes staying is commitment. Sometimes it is grief that has not yet learned how to let go.

Important work without meaningful influence

Years later, the work looked more sophisticated.

The problems were larger. The numbers were regional. The decks were cleaner. I had enough experience to walk into a meeting, read the performance, and explain why something was happening.

I could tell the room where growth was slowing, which group was underperforming, and what pattern the data suggested. I learned to turn a complicated system into a coherent story.

This was useful work. Leaders need someone who can see the shape of a problem.

But I started leaving meetings with an uneasy feeling.

Everyone understood the diagnosis. Then the choices that could change the result travelled somewhere else.

I could explain why the number moved, but I could not change the offer. I could identify what the team needed, but I could not redirect the resources. I could recommend a test, but I was not always the person who could approve it.

Nothing dramatic happened. Nobody told me I had failed. In many ways, I was doing the job well.

That was precisely the problem.

I was very good at narrating results I was not empowered to change.

Explanation can feel like control. A polished deck can make a room feel productive because the confusion has been organised. But the number does not move because the story grew clearer.

Eventually, I had to ask myself a harder question:

Am I describing the business, or am I changing it?

Instead of ending with what happened, I began pushing toward what decision should follow. What could move the result? Who was allowed to choose? What could we test? When would we know if it worked?

Reporting ends with an answer. Ownership ends with a decision.

Ownership, in this sense, is not a title. It is the room to choose what happens next and the responsibility to live with what your choice produces.

An answer can be admired and forgotten. A decision puts someone on the hook.

The trap of being too useful

I kept solving the problems in front of me until I realised the company had stopped giving me new problems to grow into.

That is the trap.

When you know the client history, every difficult account comes back to you. When you understand the numbers, every performance question lands on your desk. When you are good in a crisis, people call you whenever something breaks.

You can always find a way, so the organisation never has to build a better way.

At first, this feels like security. People praise your reliability. Your calendar proves that you matter. You are difficult to replace.

Meanwhile, the work changes very little. You solve familiar problems under greater pressure. Your workload rises while your learning flattens.

The organisation gets what it needs from the person you already are. It has little reason to create room for the person you could become next.

This arrangement is rarely malicious. You helped build it. Every time you rescued the work without asking what should change, you taught people to bring the same work back to you.

The question is not simply, “Do they appreciate me?”

Ask, “What am I being valued for?”

One question helped me see the difference: am I here to advise, or decide?

Are you trusted to carry more work, or trusted to make better decisions? Does the role keep stretching your judgment, or are you getting faster at cleaning up the same mess?

Being needed can look like career growth for a very long time.

Founders can become too useful too

Founders can build the same trap around themselves. Every decision returns to them, every emergency needs their attention, and the business never learns to think without them.

If the company cannot operate without your constant intervention, you may own it, but it still owns your attention.

Moving tasks to other people will not solve this. The real work is transferring decisions. Someone else needs enough context to choose, clear limits, and time to experience the consequences. Nobody learns judgment while every meaningful choice is pulled back to the founder.

The uncomfortable truth is that being indispensable can feel flattering. It can also be evidence that the company has stopped growing beyond your personal capacity.

A business grows when more people can change the result without waiting for one person to enter the room.

Test the role before you leave it

Restlessness is not always wisdom. Sometimes you have outgrown the work. Sometimes you are tired, bored, under-supported, or frustrated after a bad month.

Before turning that feeling into a resignation letter, run a 30-day test.

Choose one result. Pick something narrow enough to measure, such as one customer group, repeated problem, or business result that everyone agrees matters.
List the decisions behind it. Write down what needs to change and who is currently allowed to choose. This often reveals that a supposed performance problem is really a decision problem.
Ask for clear permission and resources. Agree on what you can decide, what support you have, and where the limits sit. You do not need unlimited freedom. You need enough room to affect the result.
Set a review date. Decide what evidence will count and what you will do if nothing changes. Do not let one hopeful conversation turn into another six months of waiting.
Watch what happens. Judge the organisation by what changes after the conversation, not by what it promises.

If you receive room to operate and remain disengaged, the issue may be deeper than the role. If the company wants the result but refuses to let you influence it, that is an answer too.

Leaving may still be right. But now you are responding to evidence rather than escaping a feeling.

What I wish I had understood earlier

On the first day of my first real job, years before the warehouse, I was asked to help develop a new childcare project.

Nobody asked me to write a marketing plan. I wrote one anyway.

I researched the permits, visited the planning office, and earned more trust because I tried to make myself useful.

That instinct opened my career.

It just could not be the whole career.

Initiative creates opportunity. But growth eventually requires more than another task, another emergency, or another reason for everyone to depend on you.

It requires decisions that stretch your judgment. It requires room to try, to be wrong, and to carry the result. It requires work that develops something in you instead of merely consuming what you already know.

There will always be tasks that simply need doing. Not every season needs to feel like a major leap forward. Patience matters, and so does learning to work within limits.

But a career cannot survive forever on usefulness alone.

At some point, you need to know whether the place that benefits from your present ability has any interest in your future ability.

The salary arrives. The work gets done. People say thank you. Another quarter passes.

And slowly, being needed begins to replace becoming.

Do not confuse the two.

The post The Career Trap of Being Too Useful appeared first on Ian Goh.

Why Success Still Feels Empty

IanGoh — Fri, 03 Jul 2026 08:17:41 +0000

A note on ambition, identity and the life underneath achievement

There is a version of life where everything looks like it is working.

The career is moving. The calendar is full. People respect you. You are useful in rooms. Your name means something to the right people.

And still, when the noise settles, something feels off.

That is the part most success advice does not prepare you for.

It teaches you how to perform better. Build faster. Network smarter. Optimize your habits. Raise your standards. Become harder to ignore.

All of that can be useful.

But it does not answer the more uncomfortable question:

What if the life you built to prove your worth cannot make you feel worthy?

I have spent years learning that the problem is not ambition itself. Ambition can be good. It can pull you out of laziness. It can make you responsible. It can turn gifts into work that helps people.

The problem begins when ambition becomes a substitute for honesty.

When you use work to avoid grief.

When you use networking to avoid intimacy.

When you use productivity to avoid feeling.

When you use success to avoid the fear that you are not enough without it.

That is when the outside can keep improving while the inside quietly starts telling the truth.

Networking is not the same as connection

For a long time, I thought being surrounded by people meant I belonged.

I was good at rooms. I knew how to meet people, introduce people, organize dinners, create energy, and become useful to a lot of people at once.

It looked like connection.

Often, it was performance.

Networking rewards the polished version of you. The interesting version. The useful version. The version with something to offer.

Real connection asks for the version that has nothing to prove.

That difference matters.

You can meet hundreds of people and still feel unknown. You can be invited everywhere and still have no one to call when you do not have an impressive update. You can be valuable to many people and close to almost no one.

The test is not how many people know your name.

The test is who knows what is actually happening in your life.

The people who stay when you stop being useful are the ones worth paying attention to. Everyone else may not be bad. They may just have been part of the transaction.

That realization can be painful.

It can also make you free.

The strong one is often hiding

Capable people get rewarded for carrying weight.

They become the person with the plan. The one who does not panic. The one people call when things fall apart.

There is dignity in that.

There is also danger.

If you are always the strong one, eventually people stop asking if you are tired. You have trained them to believe you are fine.

Sometimes you believe it too.

“I’m fine” can become the most expensive sentence in your life.

It keeps the room comfortable, but it costs you honesty. It keeps your image intact, but it creates distance from the people who love you. It helps you keep functioning, but the unprocessed weight does not disappear.

It moves into the body.

Sleep changes. The jaw tightens. The appetite shifts. The small annoyances become harder to absorb. You keep telling yourself it is just a busy season because that story lets you keep going.

But the body is often more honest than the mind.

It is not trying to betray you.

It is trying to tell you what you have refused to say out loud.

Strength that requires hiding is too expensive.

The better version of strength is not needing nothing. It is letting the right people see what you are carrying before it becomes too heavy to name.

Productivity can be avoidance

One of the easiest ways to hide in modern life is to look productive.

Start another project.

Clean up the system.

Rewrite the plan.

Launch the next thing.

The world will rarely question this because productivity has a good reputation. If you are producing, you must be disciplined. If you are busy, you must be responsible.

Maybe.

Or maybe you are avoiding the repair work.

Building is often easier than repairing because building gives you control. Repair asks for humility.

Building lets you make something new.

Repair asks you to face the thing you damaged, neglected, delayed, or refused to feel.

This is why high performers can stay emotionally stuck for years while looking impressive from the outside. They are not lazy. They are moving constantly.

Just not toward the thing that hurts.

The question worth asking is not only, “What am I building?”

It is also, “What am I using this building to avoid?”

If the answer comes too slowly, the project might not be the real work.

Worth cannot live in output

Many people say they know their worth is not their work.

Then they panic when the work goes quiet.

That is when the truth shows up.

If rest makes you anxious, if unseen work feels less real, if a win does not count until someone notices, then your output may be carrying something it was never meant to carry.

Achievement is a useful result.

It is a terrible identity system.

The problem is that output-based worth works for a while. It makes you sharp. It makes you hungry. It gives you a clean way to measure progress.

But the more you achieve, the more proof you need.

The target moves because the fear underneath it was never answered.

You do not become free by finally producing enough.

You become free when you stop asking production to answer the question of whether you are enough.

That does not mean you stop working hard.

It means the work becomes cleaner. Less desperate. Less dependent on applause. More able to exist quietly because the work itself matters.

Some of the most important wins in your life will never be visible.

Learning to let those wins count is part of growing up.

Ambition needs a direction

Ambition and restlessness feel similar.

Both make you want to move. Both create urgency. Both make staying still feel like failure.

But they are not the same.

Ambition moves toward something.

Restlessness moves away from discomfort.

That difference can change a life.

I have seen people leave jobs, relationships, cities, and projects because they thought they were being brave. Sometimes they were. Sometimes they were just uncomfortable and needed a more heroic story for leaving.

The question is simple:

Can you name what you are moving toward?

Not in abstract language. Not “more freedom” or “more growth” or “something bigger.”

What does it look like on a random Tuesday?

What would you actually do?

Who would it ask you to become?

What boredom would you have to endure after the excitement fades?

If you cannot answer that, the move may still be right. But it is worth slowing down before calling it ambition.

Sometimes the brave thing is not to leap.

Sometimes it is to stay still long enough to understand what the discomfort is trying to say.

Peace can feel like boredom if you are used to chaos

This may be one of the most under-discussed problems among ambitious people.

When things are finally stable, they do not always feel peaceful.

They feel suspicious.

The relationship is steady. The work is fine. The body is not screaming. There is no urgent problem to solve.

And suddenly your mind starts searching for one.

What should I change?

What should I optimize?

What is the next big move?

If your nervous system has spent years living on intensity, calm can feel like a downgrade. You mistake peace for stagnation. You mistake stability for decline. You mistake ordinary life for failure.

That mistake can cost you the things that actually matter.

Deep relationships require boring days.

Faith requires quiet seasons.

Health requires repetition.

Meaningful work requires long stretches where nobody is clapping.

The things that last are not stimulating all the time.

That is not a flaw. That is the price of depth.

Novelty gives quick rewards. Significance moves slower.

The hard part is that choosing significance over stimulation can feel like withdrawal at first. You miss the rush. You miss the story. You miss the feeling of being in motion.

But eventually something better starts to appear.

Not excitement.

Groundedness.

The sense that your life is becoming more true, even if it is less impressive to describe.

Purpose is usually hiding in ordinary days

People talk about purpose as if it arrives with thunder.

A calling. A revelation. A clean sentence that explains what you were born to do.

Most of the time, it does not arrive like that.

It arrives as a pattern.

The kind of work you keep returning to when no one is making you do it.

The problems you cannot stop thinking about.

The conversations where you feel most alive.

The small acts that seem ordinary at the time, but form a line when you look back.

You do not need a lightning bolt.

You need to pay attention to your Tuesdays.

That is where your real life is happening. Not in the imagined future where everything is clear. Not in the biography version of yourself. Not in the mission statement you keep trying to perfect.

The data is already there.

It is in what you choose when nobody is watching.

It is in what you keep caring about after the dopamine fades.

It is in who you become when there is no audience.

A better version of success

I still believe in success.

I just do not trust the old definition as much.

Success is not only what you build. It is what the building makes of you.

It is whether your work makes you more honest or more hidden.

It is whether your ambition creates life or slowly consumes it.

It is whether the people closest to you get the best of you or only what is left after the world is done with you.

It is whether you can be alone without hiding, useful without performing, strong without disappearing, and still without feeling like you are falling behind.

That is harder to measure.

It is also harder to fake.

The older I get, the more I think the real test of success is not whether people admire your life from a distance.

It is whether you can actually live inside it.

And if you cannot, maybe the answer is not more success.

Maybe the answer is a quieter kind of honesty.

The kind that asks what you have been performing.

The kind that asks what your body has been carrying.

The kind that asks what you are building to avoid repairing.

The kind that asks whether you are chasing a calling or escaping a feeling.

The kind that asks if the life you are making is one you can stay in when nobody is clapping.

That is the work I keep coming back to.

Still learning.

Still becoming.

Still trying to build a life that feels true from the inside, not just impressive from the outside.

I wrote 47 essays at https://www.iangoh.com/still-learning/

Still Learning by Ian Goh eBook

Ian

The post Why Success Still Feels Empty appeared first on Ian Goh.

What I Learned Scaling a 100M User Platform

IanGoh — Thu, 19 Mar 2026 04:02:14 +0000

In 2020, TikTok was banned in India.

Over $900 million flowed into the market to replace it.
We started with less than $5 million.

Within 10 months, we reached 10 million daily active users with above-market retention.
We eventually scaled Tiki to 100 million users.

A lot of what worked wasn’t obvious at the time.

Most platforms approach growth in a similar way:

They optimize for content.
They pay creators.
They rely heavily on algorithms.

We took a different path.

We stopped paying creators salaries, and focused on helping them grow through their audience.

We reduced the reach of viral “junk” content, even when it hurt short-term metrics.

We spent more time building communities than tuning feeds.

Over time, one thing became clear:

People don’t stay for content.
They stay for people.

I’ve written a full breakdown of the system behind this:

– The Creator Flywheel
– The meritocracy pyramid
– Why status works better than subsidies
– What we got wrong along the way

If you prefer a visual version, you can go through the slides below.

Or read the full playbook here:

👉 https://iangoh.com/playbook

The post What I Learned Scaling a 100M User Platform appeared first on Ian Goh.

The Wilderness Was Necessary: How 2025 Prepared Me for the Kingdom

IanGoh — Sun, 04 Jan 2026 08:09:21 +0000

We reflect every day. We think that we travel life alone, but in reality, we have a strong community. It’s about how we bring that community together and find our ikigai.

Looking back, 2025 was a year of two distinct seasons: The Wilderness and The Kingdom. It was a year where I lived across multiple countries and found familiarity in the unknown, but realized that the “Golden Cage” of comfort can sometimes be the biggest trap of all.

Here are the 4 core lessons from the year.

1. The Myth of “More”

We sometimes think we need more to validate ourselves—more money, more status, more recognition. But I learned that the “Golden Cage” I built for myself was comfortable, but it wasn’t freedom.

I realized that a 9-5 can be a trap because you rely on one source of income instead of building your own “Kingdom.” True wealth isn’t just the numbers in the bank account; it’s about providing value to the world on your own terms. We have to give thanks for what we have, but we also have to stop waiting for permission to build what we want.

The Lesson: If money were no option, what would you be doing? Explore that. Build that.

2. The Chase is Not Love

For a long time, I confused anxiety with chemistry, thinking it was love. I was chasing waterfalls, trapped in the “fallacy of choice” thinking there are always many fish in the sea. I found myself auditing for affection, looking for ROI in a place that wasn’t investing back.

The breakthrough was realizing that Peace should be the northstar. We often chase the highs because we are addicted to the validation, but that is just the “Trauma of Conditional Worth” talking. I learned that I don’t need to “earn” my place in a relationship through performance or charisma.

We don’t chase highs anymore. We build peace.

3. Peace is a Practice, Not a Reward

Anger management is really important. It becomes a turmoil inside ourselves if we can’t control it.

There were moments this year like the chaos of the Gala, the heat of competitive tennis/padel, or the friction at work where I realized that 95% of things are outside my control. The only thing I own is my response.

I learned to “withdraw into the wilderness” to pray and reflect, just to find the stillness. Peace isn’t something you get after you finish the work; peace is the discipline you use to do the work. We have to learn to self-regulate in God and detach.

4. Perception Does Not Equal Reality

People may think you have it all. And maybe you do. But if you don’t find peace from within, you are just compensating.

I spent time “Solo Leveling” mastering AI tools, hitting the gym, and fixing my health because I realized that perception is a game, but reality is how you sleep at night.

We stopped trying to be the “General” for everyone else’s war and started being the King of our own domain.

5. The Tribe: Where Energy Returns

In the end, it was the “Tribe” my family, my community, and loved ones that kept me grounded. Whether it was the KK delight meals with family, or hiking the misty mountain in Kokol, these were the moments that spiked my energy.

I realized that “Tribe is always something that is important.” We are not an island. We need our community.

The Path Forward: Trust the Season You Are In

If you feel like you are in the “Wilderness” right now confused, lonely, or stuck in a cage of your own making, know that it is not a waste. It is preparation.

We cannot rush the harvest. We cannot hack the process. 2025 taught me that “Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither is a legacy.”

The “Golden Cage” taught me what I didn’t want, so I could clearly see what I did. The Chase taught me how to source my own validation. Every delay was actually a detour toward a better destination.

So, embrace where you are. If you are in the Wilderness, learn the lesson. If you are in the Kingdom, share the blessing.

We don’t travel life alone. We build, we break, and we rebuild stronger than before.

Your season is changing. Be ready for it.

God bless the journey.

Was experimenting with music creation during the season

The post The Wilderness Was Necessary: How 2025 Prepared Me for the Kingdom appeared first on Ian Goh.

The Myth of the Perfect Move

IanGoh — Mon, 22 Sep 2025 16:22:53 +0000

My greatest ambition might be my heaviest anchor. I feel like my generation was conditioned to hunt for 10x returns in our careers, our investments, and our lives. But what if this relentless search for a flawless opportunity is the very thing guaranteeing a 1x outcome: stagnation?

This isn’t just an observation; it’s something I see in myself. I build spreadsheets, analyze my own life paths like stock picks, and hold out for the flawless opportunity. I call it being strategic. I tell myself it’s being prudent. But I’m realizing it’s a trap. I’m writing this to deconstruct that trap, mostly for myself.

The Allure of the Perfect Bet

In the world of venture capital and hypergrowth startups, where I’ve spent my career, the entire game is about finding the one monumental win. The model is built on making bets that have the potential for exponential, game-changing returns. A single success can pay for all the failures and then some. It’s a powerful formula that trains you to hunt for the home run, not just to get on base.

The problem started when I began exporting this formula into my personal life without realizing it. I find myself viewing my choices through this same lens. I hunt for the career pivot that offers everything at once: massive pay, a title promotion, and profound fulfillment, all with zero risk. I am, in effect, trying to build a risk free portfolio of life choices.

It’s alluring because it feels so rational, like the ultimate form of strategic optimization. But here’s the flaw in the logic: life isn’t a series of isolated bets. Time is my most valuable and constantly expiring asset. By refusing to place a bet on a good opportunity while I wait for a perfect one, I’m unknowingly taking the worst position of all; the one that guarantees I never get to play.

The Psychology of My Paralysis

Falling into this trap isn’t a character flaw. For me, it’s a predictable outcome of how I’m wired. The paralysis comes from a few places.

First, it’s the paradox of choice, played out in real time. My screen is full of options, potential futures, and rabbit holes of research. Instead of feeling free, I feel cornered by the sheer volume of possibilities. Every choice feels like an act of loss, because it means actively rejecting all the others.

Second, this sense of ‘high agency’ I’ve always valued becomes a burden. The belief that I am the sole architect of my life is empowering until it’s time to make a high-stakes decision. Then, any choice that is less than optimal feels like a direct personal failure. It’s like being the portfolio manager for my own life, where every single dip feels like a mistake.

Finally, I’m trying to solve for a future version of myself. I’m not just deciding for the me of today. I’m trying to decide that a future, unknown Ian will look back on and approve of. It’s an impossible standard that demands I predict a person I haven’t even become yet.

Stagnation is the Real Risk

My logical brain tells me that waiting is the safest option. A neutral position. But it’s an illusion. Inaction is a decision, and it carries a hidden, compounding cost.

The danger of stagnation is that it doesn’t feel like a crisis. It’s a slow, quiet leak. It’s the dull ache of unrealized potential. Every month I spend analyzing is another month where the clock ticks louder, another month I didn’t acquire a skill or gather real-world data. The market moves on, the world moves on, my life moves on. I’ve learned that the greatest risk isn’t making the wrong move, but making no move at all.

My Framework for Escaping

Deconstructing this is one thing. Escaping it is another. This is the practical framework I’m forcing myself to adopt to fight back against my own paralysis.

Reframe from Optimization to Experimentation. I’m done searching for the one, perfect, irreversible life decision. My new goal is to identify the smallest possible action I can take to test a hypothesis. The point isn’t to find the perfect answer on paper, but to gather data in the real world.
Define ‘Good Enough’ Upfront. The search for the best is an infinite loop. The standard for ‘good enough’ is an exit ramp. Before I evaluate options, I now write down the three to five concrete criteria that a “good” move must meet. If an opportunity hits those, it gets a green light for a real decision, not just another row on a spreadsheet.
Impose Artificial Constraints. I know that open-ended timelines are the enemy. So I give myself aggressive deadlines to make a choice. Constraints are liberating. They force me to focus and push me from deliberation into motion.

To sum it all up

I’m still wrestling with this. The desire to engineer a flawless life path is a hard habit to break.

But the goal, I’m realizing, is not to find the perfect path on a map. It’s to choose a good one, take the first step, and trust my ability to navigate the terrain as I go. Momentum, it turns out, is its own reward.

The post The Myth of the Perfect Move appeared first on Ian Goh.

Life Isn’t That Complicated. You Are.

IanGoh — Tue, 09 Sep 2025 08:48:44 +0000

Look around. You desire endless things. Your career feels like you’re running in place. Your relationships are a tangled mess of unspoken expectations. You’re overwhelmed, anxious, and pretty sure the solution is some magical life hack you just haven’t found yet.

Wrong.

The problem isn’t your life. The problem is you. You’re making it all way too freaking complicated.

A book by this Taiwanese businessman, Jin Weichun, called The One Thing in Life (人生只有一件事), nails this down with brutal simplicity. He argues that we’re all idiots running around trying to solve a million different problems, when in reality, there’s only one thing we ever need to focus on: learning how to live properly.

That’s it. That’s the whole game. Everything else—your money problems, your boss problems, your “why won’t they text me back” problem is just a symptom of you missing the basics of living.

Your Crap, Their Crap, and Crap You Can’t Control

Think of every problem in the universe. They all fit into one of three buckets:

Your Crap: Your thoughts, your actions, your choices, your attitude.
Their Crap: What other people think, say, or do.
The Universe’s Crap: Traffic, gravity, the weather, global pandemics.

Most of us spend 99% of our energy rummaging through the second and third buckets. We get pissed off about politics. We obsess over why someone left us on read. We complain about the rain.

This is monumentally stupid.

It’s like trying to steer someone else’s car from your passenger seat. You have zero control, you look like a maniac, and you can’t focus on your own driving.

The only bucket you can control is your own. The only ROI that matters is the one you get from managing your own shit. So, the first step is to ruthlessly stop giving a damn about the other two buckets. Focus entirely on what you can do, right here, right now.

Surprise: You Are the Problem

Here’s a tough pill to swallow: Every external problem in your life is a reflection of an internal one.

Hate your job because your boss is a micromanager? Maybe the real problem is you lack the courage to set boundaries or find a new job.
Annoyed that your partner is messy? Maybe the issue is your need for control and your inability to communicate without nagging.

This is actually the best news you could ever get.

Because if you are the source of your problems, then you are also the source of the solution. You don’t have to wait for the world, your boss, or your partner to change. You just have to change yourself.

Blaming everyone else is the ultimate low-agency move. It’s choosing to be a victim. Taking responsibility, on the other hand, is where all your power lies.

The Superpower Nobody Uses: “My Bad.”

We’re terrified of admitting we’re wrong. We think it makes us look weak. In reality, it’s a power move.

But there’s a difference between a real apology and pathetic, self-pitying guilt.

Guilt is useless. It’s just you wallowing, saying, “I’m a terrible person.” It’s a dead end.
True admission of fault is a tool. It’s looking at your action and saying, “That was a dumb move. It produced a bad result. I will not do that again.”

It’s not about beating yourself up; it’s about generating the energy to correct your course. A real apology is followed by a change in behavior. Anything else is just noise designed to make you feel better for a second.

Outgrow Your Bullshit

Remember that thing you were obsessed with in high school? That breakup that felt like the literal end of the world?

Where is that problem now?

It’s gone. Not because you “solved” it, but because you grew. You leveled up, and from your new vantage point, the old problem looks tiny and insignificant.

This is the strategy for all of your adult problems.

Stop wrestling with them head-on. Stop obsessing over them. Instead, focus all your energy on self-cultivation. Work on being more honest. More disciplined. A better listener. More courageous.

By focusing on elevating yourself, you achieve what the author calls a “life displacement.” You don’t solve the problem; you make it irrelevant. You outgrow it.

The Only Takeaway That Matters

So, here’s the summary. Forget the 10-step plans and productivity hacks. If you want to fix your life, the core insight is this:

Stop trying to fix your external world and start fixing how you operate within it.

Get your own house in order. Master the fundamentals of being a functional, responsible human being. The rest, as they say, is just details. Now stop reading articles about how to live and go do the work.

The post Life Isn’t That Complicated. You Are. appeared first on Ian Goh.

Why Jordan is Our Strategic Engine for the Middle East

IanGoh — Wed, 13 Aug 2025 07:37:29 +0000

The Real Story We’re Building in Jordan

It’s a strange feeling, having a camera follow you around. We were filming a segment for a documentary showcasing Jordan’s digital growth, and the lens forces you to articulate not just what we’ve built, but why it matters. Looking back at the official announcements and the handshakes at forums, it’s easy to see the polished corporate story. But behind the scenes, this journey has been about something much more fundamental.

Our story in Jordan isn’t an accident; it’s a deliberate, strategic bet we made years ago. When we first established our office in 2019 with a team of 25, we saw the raw ingredients for an incredible partnership: a stable, ambitious nation with a deep pool of young, hungry talent. It represented a classic asymmetric opportunity—a solid foundation with the potential for exponential upside, not just as a market, but as a strategic hub for the entire MENA region.

The milestones you read about, like the MoU we signed with int@j at the Jordan-Singapore Tech Alliance Forum, aren’t just ceremonial. They are the outcomes of countless hours of real conversation and alignment. When we hosted the Minister of Digital Economy and Entrepreneurship at our offices in both Amman and Singapore, the discussions weren’t just about BIGO. They were about a shared vision: How can we bridge the tech ecosystems of Southeast Asia and the Middle East? How can we make Jordan the undisputed gateway for that bridge? These weren’t corporate obligations; they were strategic working sessions.

But the real story, the one that energizes me, isn’t found in boardrooms or forums. It’s in our offices in Amman and Irbid. It’s in the fact that we’ve grown from that initial team of 25 to over 1,000 people. This isn’t just about headcount; it’s about capability. Our teams in Jordan are not just executing; they are leading. They are shaping our content strategies, pioneering our AI moderation systems for Arabic-speaking markets, and running localized campaigns that resonate with millions. This isn’t a satellite office; it’s a core engine for our regional growth.

That’s why initiatives like the Singapore-Jordan Incubation Program are so critical. For someone who has built things from the ground up, there’s no greater ROI than empowering the next wave of founders. By offering Singaporean startups space, mentorship, and a foothold in Jordan, we’re doing more than just “supporting the ecosystem.” We’re actively building it. We’re lowering the barrier to entry and betting that the cross-pollination of ideas will create value for everyone, including us.

Being celebrated as a success story in the Middle East was a moment of pride, but it felt less like an endpoint and more like a checkpoint. The work is far from done. As the creator economy continues to evolve, our focus sharpens. We’re committed to deepening our innovation pipeline here and ensuring the knowledge exchange between our global and Jordanian teams is a two-way street.

This is about building a legacy of genuine contribution. It’s about shaping the digital narrative of a region from within the region.

We’re not just operating in Jordan.

We’re building with Jordan.

And we’re just getting started.

The post Why Jordan is Our Strategic Engine for the Middle East appeared first on Ian Goh.

Creating “Meaningful” Connections?

IanGoh — Thu, 24 Jul 2025 12:34:14 +0000

Why do we need connections?

It’s a simple question with a profound answer. Connections make life worth living. They bring us joy, fulfillment, and a sense of meaning. They remind us that we’re not alone, that we’re part of something much bigger than ourselves. In a world that can sometimes feel cold and indifferent, genuine connections are the warmth that reminds us of the beauty of being human.

Hi everyone, I’m Ian. I’d like to take you on a journey—my journey—from a small island known as the ‘Little Red Dot,’ to a global stage where technology and human connection are intersecting to redefine our world. I represent BIGO Technology, a company that believes in using technology not just to connect people, but to forge meaningful connections.

This isn’t just about building another app. It’s about answering a fundamental question: Why do we do it?

The answer is for people like Mai, a single mother from Egypt. Livestreaming on our platform gave her a stage, but it was her genuine personality and incredible cooking skills that captivated a global audience. The supportive community she found gave her the encouragement to turn her passion into a profession, transforming her life. Without this platform, without this community, her talent might have never reached beyond her own kitchen. Mai’s story is our “why.” It’s about using technology to empower people, build communities, and create connections that have a real-world impact.

Over our ten-year journey, we’ve learned countless lessons. Today, I want to share the five key ideas that form the pillars of how we build our digital world.

Pillar 1: Glocalisation – Think Global, Act Local

To connect the world, you must first understand it. We operate in over 150 countries, and what we’ve learned is that community is not a monolith. Every culture has its own style, its own needs, its own heartbeat. We call our approach “Glocalisation.”

This means we listen, we adapt, and we celebrate what makes each place unique. Our 30 regional offices are not just for sales; they are our ears to the ground. They help us understand what our communities truly desire.

Viewers want entertainment.
Creators seek fame and incentives.
Supporters want to feel a sense of belonging.
Patrons desire appreciation for their contributions.

By understanding these diverse needs, we can cultivate local talent, organize culturally relevant events, and support creators from the ground up. Our “Summer Vibe Campaign” in Saudi Arabia, for instance, wasn’t a generic global event. It was a virtual exploration of local traditions and tales, inviting users to share their own summer experiences and fostering a genuine cultural exchange.

This is our secret sauce: knowing and respecting local cultures is what allows us to build a global family where everyone feels truly at home.

Pillar 2: Come for Content, Stay for Community

“Come for the Content, Stay for the Community” is more than a tagline; it’s our core operational strategy. The strongest human motive is to belong. While exciting content may attract a user, it’s the feeling of being part of a tribe that makes them stay.

We’ve engineered our platform around this principle by creating “Families.” These are more than just group chats; they are micro-communities where creators and their supporters forge deep bonds.

Why? Because these Families provide three essential emotional pillars: Appreciation, Belonging, and Support. Creators feel their work is valued, supporters feel a sense of ownership in a creator’s success, and everyone feels the safety of belonging to a group that has their back. This is where online friendships blossom into real-life bonds, with users organizing everything from local picnics to international trips to meet their digital family in person.

Pillar 3: Humanize Virtual Proximity

Our goal is to make technology feel less… technological. We want our users to feel like they’re hanging out in the same room, not staring at a screen miles apart. We call this “Humanizing Virtual Proximity.”

We use smart tech, including AI, not to replace human interaction, but to enhance it—to make online conversations feel as real and warm as meeting face-to-face.

Look at Mary, a top host who has built a thriving community for Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs). She creates content that feels like a taste of home, a sanctuary for those living abroad. She doesn’t just broadcast; she listens, she engages, and she treats her viewers like family. She organizes real-life meetups for when they are back in the Philippines. Mary’s ability to create a space that feels like one big, warm hangout session is the embodiment of our mission. For communities like the global Filipino audience, our platform becomes more than an app—it’s a home away from home.

Pillar 4: Create an Authentic and Safe Space

You cannot have a thriving community without safety. Meaningful connection is impossible without trust. This is non-negotiable.

We’ve built a fortress of safety using a dual approach:

Advanced Technology: We employ sophisticated AI for 24/7, real-time content moderation across all streams, watching over videos and chats to ensure a secure environment.
Human Touch: We have on-the-ground teams that our stakeholders can reach out to directly if they feel unsafe or targeted.

This safe space allows incredible stories like Karima’s to unfold. Born without the use of her arms, Karima is a phenomenal artist who faced immense societal barriers. On our platform, her art classes became a global stage for advocacy, showing the world that disability does not define talent. The BIGO Live community embraced her art and her spirit. Without this protected environment, her powerful voice might have been silenced by negativity. Instead, she is thriving, challenging perceptions, and inspiring millions.

Pillar 5: Fame-as-a-Service – Meaningful Gamification

Inspired by Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, we recognize that the desire for social capital is a universal human driver. We all want to be recognized. On our platform, we’ve tapped into this by offering what we call “Fame-as-a-Service.”

However, this is not about handing out participation trophies. In a world of digital abundance, the true scarcity is meaningful attention and recognition. If everyone can achieve a certain status, it’s no longer a status at all.

Our system is different because it’s a meritocracy. Just like an athlete training for the Olympics, talent on our platform requires proof of work. Fame is earned through skill, dedication, and the ability to connect with an audience. This taps directly into Maslow’s hierarchy of needs for esteem and belonging. The annual BIGO Awards Gala—held this year in Las Vegas—is the culmination of this, a grand celebration where we recognize and reward the incredible talent from across our global community.

By offering a space where creativity and skill lead to real social capital, we create a hub of sustained engagement and growth.

Looking Ahead: The Future is Human

As we stand on the cusp of a new AI-driven era, the nature of connection is evolving once again. A future of AI friends and mixed-reality content will challenge us to rethink what is real. In this new world, authenticity will be our most valuable currency.

We believe AI can be a powerful tool to enhance social bonds, but it can never replace the warmth of a real human connection. Our commitment, now more than ever, is to be a platform that champions genuine, unedited moments.

No matter how technology changes, our core mission remains the same: to bring people together by creating ‘meaningful’ connections. That is the heart of what we do. And that is the future we are building.

The post Creating “Meaningful” Connections? appeared first on Ian Goh.

Why a 3-Legged Dog? The Significance of Resilience and Perseverance

IanGoh — Tue, 15 Jul 2025 08:54:56 +0000

Life often throws unexpected challenges our way, and sometimes it feels like the weight of the world is on our shoulders. In these moments, we can learn a lot from an unlikely source: the 3-legged dog.

Have you ever seen a 3-legged dog? Despite losing a leg, it doesn’t lie down in defeat. Instead, it gets up and continues to live life as if nothing happened. It still plays, runs, and enjoys life just like any other dog.

Your first instinct might be to feel pity. You notice what’s missing, the “disability.” But take a closer look. Do you see the dog lying down, defeated by its circumstance? Absolutely not. A 3-legged dog bounces back as if it always had three legs. It adapts, finds a new balance, and continues to walk, run, and play with even more enthusiasm than before.

This 3-legged dog serves as a powerful metaphor for life. It reminds us that even when we face significant setbacks, whether it’s a personal loss, a health challenge, a failure, the end of a relationship, or something beyond our control, we don’t have to let it define us. Much like the 3-legged dog, we have the ability to adapt, adjust, and keep going, no matter what life takes from us.

The question is, what do we do when we lose something important? Do we allow it to paralyze us, or do we embrace change and find new ways to keep going? A 3-legged dog doesn’t sit idly, waiting for its leg to grow back or for the world to change. It adapts to its new reality and moves forward with the same enthusiasm it had before. In fact, sometimes it might even run faster, showing us that overcoming adversity can lead to growth, strength, and even new levels of success.

The Power of Perspective

In life, we can’t always control our circumstances, but we do have control over our perspective. The 3-legged dog doesn’t focus on what it’s missing. It focuses on what it still has and how to make the most of it. When we face challenges, we often get caught up in what we’ve lost, but like the dog, we can choose to focus on what remains. We can shift our perspective and find strength in the face of adversity.

The key lesson here is not about pretending that obstacles don’t exist, but about refusing to let them stop us from living our lives fully. It’s about embracing the change, adjusting our approach, and continuing to move forward with confidence and resilience.

Resilience and Adaptability: The 3-Legged Dog’s Secret

A 3-legged dog doesn’t waste time lamenting its loss. It adapts. It learns to balance itself in a different way, becoming more agile and resourceful. Similarly, we can choose to view our challenges as opportunities for growth and transformation. The obstacles we face may not be something we can easily overcome, but we can choose how we respond to them. We can choose resilience over defeat.

In life, there’s often a belief that we must be whole to be successful. But the truth is that some of the most resilient and inspiring individuals are those who have faced adversity and risen stronger than before. Like the 3-legged dog, we can thrive even when we’re missing something because it’s not about what’s lost, but about what we still have and how we choose to use it.

The post Why a 3-Legged Dog? The Significance of Resilience and Perseverance appeared first on Ian Goh.

Gaming, Live-streaming, and the Rise of Creator Economy

IanGoh — Tue, 18 Mar 2025 15:19:45 +0000

The days when entertainment meant gathering around a TV set are fading into memory. In a region where 70% of the population is online and smartphone penetration reaches a staggering 97% in markets like the UAE and Saudi Arabia, MENA has quietly evolved into a global powerhouse of digital innovation.

The region’s gaming market size was valued at USD 7.45 billion in 2023 and is expected to expand at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 9.4% from 2024 to 2030.

A decade ago, entertainment in MENA was synonymous with television and cinema, offering limited opportunities for engagement. Now, a seismic shift has taken hold, placing gaming and livestreaming at the epicenter of its digital evolution. This isn’t just about playing games or watching streamers; it’s about a cultural metamorphosis, fueled by mobile-first experiences and real-time engagement.

Consider this: when was the last time you consumed content without the option to comment, share, or interact? For MENA’s younger generations, passive consumption is obsolete. They don’t just want to watch; they want to participate.

The Mobile Revolution: Entertainment in Every Pocket

The digital revolution in MENA is fundamentally mobile-driven. In markets like the UAE and Saudi Arabia, where smartphone penetration reaches an astonishing 97%, gaming has become a ubiquitous form of entertainment.

Unlike traditional console and PC gaming, which require significant investment, mobile gaming has democratized access, transforming smartphones into portals for immersive experiences. This accessibility has fostered a massive social movement, where real-time connection, competition, and content creation thrive. What truly sets mobile gaming apart in MENA is its natural integration into the region’s social tapestry. It doesn’t supplant face-to-face interactions; rather, it complements and strengthens them. Lifelong friendships, born on neighborhood football pitches, now extend into virtual battlegrounds, bridging the gaps created by busy lives and sprawling cities.

Games like PUBG Mobile, Free Fire, and Mobile Legends: Bang Bang have become cultural touchstones, driving a surge in regional tournaments, esports leagues, and content creators. Livestreaming platforms, in turn, serve as the vital link connecting gamers with their ever-expanding audiences.

Livestreaming: The New Social Hub for Gamers

The rise of livestreaming is redefining digital entertainment in MENA. It’s no longer just about consuming content; it’s about participating in real-time, interactive experiences. Platforms like Bigo Live have created a space where gamers aren’t just players—they’re performers, community leaders, and entrepreneurs. Features like live chat, virtual gifting, and audience-driven gameplay decisions have transformed gaming into an interactive spectacle.

While other platforms treat gaming as a solo endeavor, Bigo Live has built a genuine community where people matter more than pixels. When a regular streamer misses a day, viewers check in. When someone achieves a personal milestone, the whole chat celebrates. These aren’t just users – they’re communities in a digital neighborhood.

Livestreaming has also enabled content creators to monetize their passion. In a region where traditional job markets can be unpredictable, livestreaming offers a viable career path, allowing gamers to build audiences and earn a living through digital entertainment. The impact is especially significant in MENA, where a young population is eager to engage with content that speaks to their interests and cultural nuances.

Bigo Live’s impact in the region is best illustrated through the success of creators like Hussam, known as “Restart” (ID: 766558500). During the pandemic, Bigo Live became a crucial platform for him, enabling him to transition from casual gaming into a thriving career as a top gaming content creator.

Since then, he has secured over 50 regional partnerships with major publishers such as Moonton, Garena, and EWC, significantly expanding his brand and audience.

“What started as casual gaming sessions has turned into a full-fledged career,” says Hussam. “Through Bigo Live, I’ve not only gained financial independence but also built a thriving gaming community. The platform understands what MENA gamers need—a space that respects our cultural values while remaining engaging and interactive.”

Challenges and Opportunities: Navigating a New Digital Era

While the growth of gaming and livestreaming in MENA is promising, it’s not without challenges. Content localization, regulatory compliance, and internet infrastructure remain key considerations for platforms looking to expand in the region. However, these challenges present opportunities for innovation.

Bigo Live, for instance, has taken an active role in shaping MENA’s digital entertainment ecosystem. Through localized content initiatives, creator training programs, and strategic partnerships, the platform is not only enabling growth but also ensuring that the region’s unique cultural dynamics are respected and celebrated.

We’ve seen firsthand how thoughtful localization makes all the difference. It’s not just about translating buttons from English to Arabic – it’s understanding that humor, social norms, and even concepts of personal space differ throughout the region. When a platform genuinely respects these differences, users feel it immediately.

A prime example is our platform’s exclusive partnership with the Mobile Legends: Bang Bang (MLBB) M6 World Championship, marking the third consecutive year of collaboration. Such initiatives demonstrate a long-term commitment to fostering a thriving gaming and livestreaming ecosystem in MENA.

But this represents just one facet of a comprehensive regional strategy that includes participating in the eSports World Cup (EWC) which has drawn over 1 million attendees in Riyadh, and has created BIGO Open Championship (BOC), a specialized gaming competition program featuring over 2,000 MENA-based gaming creators. The BOC, now in its sixth iteration, has become a cornerstone of the regional esports scene, attracting over 5,000 players and 1,000 teams across titles like Mobile Legends: Bang Bang and Free Fire. Beyond the competition, the BOC serves as a vital training ground for teams aiming for international qualifiers and, crucially, fosters deep connections between players. This multi-layered approach solidifies Bigo Live’s commitment to building a thriving and interconnected gaming community within the MENA region.

GCC’s Gaming & Livestreaming Future

The next phase of MENA’s gaming and livestreaming boom is set to be even more transformative. The rollout of 5G networks will provide smoother, high-speed gameplay and crystal-clear livestreaming quality, while the integration of virtual reality (VR) and augmented reality (AR) will push interactive entertainment into new dimensions.

Beyond the allure of cutting-edge technology, what truly excites me is the potential to deepen human connections. Imagine families, geographically distanced, sharing immersive gaming experiences that transcend mere video calls, feeling as if they’re in the same room. Picture age-old cultural traditions finding vibrant new expression through interactive entertainment, bridging generational divides. As gaming, e-commerce, AI, and social platforms intertwine, the industry’s impact will resonate far beyond entertainment. MENA is transitioning from a consumer to a creator, a global innovator charting the course for the future of digital connection.

With major players like Bigo Live leading the charge, MENA is poised to be the next frontier for gaming and livestreaming. We’re building for this future by focusing on what matters most – not just features, but feelings. Not just content, but connection. Not just users, but communities. Technology changes quickly, but human needs for belonging, recognition, and meaningful interaction remain constant. By keeping these needs at the center of everything we build, we’re creating something that transcends gaming or streaming – we’re creating digital spaces that feel like home.

The post Gaming, Live-streaming, and the Rise of Creator Economy appeared first on Ian Goh.