I’m Dan Oshinsky, and I run Inbox Collective, an email consultancy. I'm here to share what I've learned about doing great work and building amazing teams.
In the spring of 2019, I was starting to think about leaving the New Yorker to start Inbox Collective. But I was still nervous about it. Was it the right time to leave? Was I ready to take on the responsibility of building a new business?
And that’s around the time a recruiter reached out to ask about a job.
It was a good job with a big title at a major news organization, making more money than I’d ever made it my life. I wasn’t looking for another job, but I interviewed anyway. It was the kind of offer I had to at least consider. I wasn’t sure what to expect.
Within 20 minutes of the first interview, I knew what I wanted to do next.
I wasn’t excited about the idea of taking another job. I still loved my job at the New Yorker.
But more than anything else, I felt excited about the idea of starting my own consulting business — well, equal parts excited and nervous. Whenever I feel nervous, that’s usually a good thing. It’s a signal that I really care about something.
So I started to ask myself: Why, exactly, am I still doing the same old thing if I’m ready for what’s next?
By the end of the month, I told my bosses that I was leaving to start Inbox Collective.
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That’s a photo of me talking to a group of newsrooms in Sydney in fall 2019, a few months after starting Inbox Collective.
Last night, I went to the Cotton Bowl in Arlington, Texas, to see my Missouri Tigers play Ohio State. Through the first 40 minutes or so, there wasn’t a lot to get excited about. Ohio State led 3-0 at halftime. Missouri could barely move the ball on offense. There were a lot of Missouri fans near us who were angry, distraught, or dismayed. (Many were all three.)
And then, in the final 20 minutes, everything flipped. Missouri scored a touchdown, then scored another, then forced a fumble to put the game away. Final score: 14-3, Missouri.
My analysis of the game looked a lot different after 60 minutes of football instead of just 40 minutes.
It’s a reminder for me, whether you’re watching football or working on a new project, that there’s a tendency to decide that things are over a little too soon. I know I’ve been guilty of declaring that something won’t work — even if I don’t have the data I really need to make that decision.
Often, the right move is it let everything play out. Once you have all the data, then you can look at what happened, break down the numbers, and decide what to do next.
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That’s the photo I took of the post-game celebration at the Cotton Bowl.
For the past decade, I’ve lived just a few blocks away from the United Nations. And yet, until this week, I’d never actually been inside.
If you’re visiting New York, the UN is worth a visit. It’s tough to visit the UN and not feel a little bit optimistic about the future of the world. Diplomacy is never easy, and yes, we’ve got massive global challenges ahead of us, but it’s amazing to visit a place where all the countries of the world have come together to try to solve big problems. World hunger, nuclear disarmament, climate change — the world gathers here, at a campus on 1st Avenue, to try to find the answers.
I was familiar with a lot of the places we saw on the tour. I’d seen the big Assembly Hall on the news. I’d seen photos of delegates sitting around the table of the Security Council Chamber. But there were a few rooms I’d never seen.
One was the chamber for the Economic and Social Council. The room was designed in 1952 from Swedish architect Svem Markelius.
It’s a beautiful room, featuring wood from Swedish forests. But there’s one particularly unique feature of the room: The ceiling is unfinished.
That’s on purpose, our tour guide informed us. It’s a subtle reminder: The ceiling is unfinished because the work of the UN will always be unfinished. There will always be more to do.
Here’s to whatever work and whatever challenges lie in the year ahead.
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I took that photo of the Economic and Social Council chamber on a visit to the UN.
If you’ve spent any time with me in New York, I’ve probably taken you to Breads Bakery.
Breads opened a decade ago, and as you’d guess by the name, they make fantastic breads: Ornate challahs, delicious croissants, and amazing black and white cookies. But the showstopper at Breads is the chocolate babka, layered with Nutella and dark chocolate. Bring one home, throw it in the microwave for 15 seconds, and you’ve got something close to perfection.
There are other babkas in New York. Some are quite good. But Breads exists on a different level. It’s the kind of babka that’s worth a 30-minute trip, each way, just to get your hands on it.
Not everything is worth the money or the time. I think about that a lot with the stuff I’m working on. It can be tough to know what tools to use or which projects to prioritize. With whatever you’re working on, it helps to have people in your corner who can tell you when something’s worth the trouble. But when you hear from folks that something is worth it, you always make time for it.
(And if you’re at Breads, the chocolate rugelach is great, too.)
It’s easy this time of the year to get caught up in everything. There’s so much to do before the end of the year — last-minute projects, those to-dos you promised you’d handle before Dec. 31 — and you and your colleagues are probably going on vacation soon. The clock seems to tick faster and faster this time of year.
When you’ve got so much going on, it’s OK to take a beat to pause, reset, and refocus on the handful of things that actually need to get done. So often, we get caught up worrying about all the things we have to do instead of actually doing stuff.
Just take a minute for yourself to slow things down and reset. You’ll get the important stuff done; it’ll be OK.
A few weeks after Ben was born, we hired a photographer to take photos of our newly-expanded family. Midway through the photo shoot, Ben got hungry and started to fuss. I grabbed a bottle to feed him, and the photographer followed along to take a few shots of us together.
When it came time to burp Ben, I put him into the position I’d been shown at the hospital: His chest on my shoulder, with me gently patting his back. But I couldn’t get a burp out.
“Would you like me to show you how I do it with my kids?” the photographer asked. It turned out she had four young kids, so she’d had plenty of practice.
I immediately handed over Ben, and watched as she propped him up on her knee, tilted him gently forward, and placed her hand on his chest.
Before she could even pat his back, Ben let out a massive belch. Naturally, that position became my go-to any time I needed to burp my son.
It was a reminder that day: Good advice and ideas can come from anywhere. You just have to be willing to make space and listen.
There’s this great piece of research out from the teams at Trusting News and the News Revenue Hub. They worked with five non-profit newsrooms that serve communities in five different states — Connecticut, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Texas, and Wisconsin — to test messages around the work these newsrooms do and how they operate. All five tested out similar messages.
There was no clear trend across participants, which is to say that each newsroom had different messaging work best for them.
This tells us that each organization is unique and has a unique relationship with their audience. We plan to test this more in the future, but for now, this indicates… that every newsroom should assess their own data and audience feedback regularly and tailor their messaging accordingly.
It echoes something I advise my own clients: Don’t just assume that what worked for someone else will work for you. Use the work you’ve seen from others as a starting point — but then test out those ideas and see what actually works for you and your team.
I’m 36 years old, and I wish I could be more like my son.
Ben is just a few months old, and I still can’t believe that he’s part of our lives. There was a long time when Sally and I wondered if we’d ever be parents. Maybe we were just waiting for a child as wonderful as Ben.
For a baby, it’s remarkable how much Ben seems to already know about how to live a good life. He spends a lot of time with family and friends. He takes time to savor his meals. He sleeps well, and often. He makes great eye contact, laughs a lot, and is curious about everything.
It’s amazing to watch the impact that Ben has on others. Every person who meets him leaves with a grin on their face.
Most of all, Ben lives in the moment. There have been times when he’s gotten upset — he’s hungry, he’s tired, he’s uncomfortable. He’ll start to whine or scream. I’ll worry that he’ll be in a terrible mood for the rest of the day.
But that’s never how it goes. Once Sally or I take a small step to correct the issue, all is forgotten. Whatever happened is in the past. Ben can be full of tears one minute and all smiles within seconds.
I wish I could be more like that. I can get caught up in a moment, replaying a misstep or a misspoken word for days. For Ben, those mistakes are easily forgotten. Whatever’s happening right now gets his full attention and can bring him joy beyond measure.
I see Ben and remind myself to laugh, to slow down, to be present. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to live quite like Ben, but I can try.
Over the past year, there are certain things I’ve come to believe hold true. I know that my beliefs will continue to change. I know that I will change.
But here, at 36, is what I believe:
You can’t do everything at once. You can’t be in five places at once. You will have to miss something you really want to be part of. It’s how it is, and it sucks, and it’s OK.
Try to do the right thing the first time. But if — or let’s be honest, when — you screw that up, do what you can to make things right.
Whatever happens today, you’ll get the chance to do better tomorrow.
Don’t try to work while you’re watching the baby. They will make you pay for it — they don’t care if you have unread emails or just a few slides left to finish. Give them 100 percent, and you’ll get the chance to give work your full attention later on.
Every parent is a world-class impersonator of their own child. I’m the Robin Williams of impersonating my own son. The only issue is that there’s only one other person in the world — my wife — who thinks the impersonations are funny.
Always write a thank you note. That person took the time to buy you something. You can take three whole minutes to write a note and put it in the mail.
There is no excuse that gets you out of more plans more easily than “My child is freaking out, sorry! Next time!”
Things don’t always get easier, but that doesn’t mean they’ll always get harder.
You have to be prepared in order to be spontaneous.
You always want to be on the first flight out during a bachelor or bachelorette party weekend. If you’re still there on Sunday afternoon, you’ve made a mistake.
Set a backup alarm when you travel. It might be the reason you make your early-morning flight.
Be willing to throw away your assumptions. Be wrong more often.
A kid is a 10,000-piece puzzle — every month, you get a few new pieces and try to figure out the full thing. But you’ve just got a few pieces! Be patient for the rest to reveal itself. It will in time.
There are days when I give big presentations or lead huge strategy efforts — and yet, the most important thing I do all day is help get a burp out of my son before bedtime. And it’s the most important thing by a mile.
Prepare for the worst. If you don’t, you will definitely get peed on.
And finally: You won’t know everything at the start. But surround yourself with smart people, get all the help you can, and ask lots of questions. Every day, you’ll learn a little more. You’ll never learn it all, but one day, you’ll find yourself in a new situation and realize that you know enough to find your way to the right answer.
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That’s a photo of the three of us, taken just a few weeks after Ben was born.
Everyone wants to go as fast as they can go. Everyone wants to find ways to move a little bit faster. Many are willing to cut corners.
But resist the urge to chase shortcuts.
The good stuff takes time: Building relationships, testing new ideas, talking to your audience. There are no shortcuts there — you’re going to have to do the work, and the work doesn’t always happen quickly.
Be patient, and embrace the work. It’s the way forward.
There are a lot of great places to watch the New York City Marathon, but for my money, nothing beats the corner of 59th and 1st.
Runners are coming off the quiet of the bridge and on to 1st Avenue, where crowds gather four or five deep to cheer family, friends, and total strangers on.
It’s also mile 16 of the race. Runners still have 10 miles to go.
And every year, I go to that corner and watch thousands of runners hit mile 16, with so many more miles to go — and they keep going.
And every year I think: It’s amazing what truly determined humans can do.
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I took that photo at 59th and 1st today during the 52nd running of the Marathon.
