What I learned about people from a single job post
Signals I'm getting that break through the AI hype
I am not one to fixate on the numbers.
But in the spring I had a post go “viral” on LinkedIn. I use the word viral very lightly because it’s not actually viral. Let’s call it locally viral. It was my top post in years i/r/t impressions and engagement.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was a post about AI1. But it was an anti AI post. And I think it was something people needed to hear in that moment.
When I look back on why 300+ people liked the post and 50+ people commented, I believe I tapped into something very real… because, well, I was being very real.
I was genuinely frustrated with what I was seeing then (and now) around how AI is impacting the product function. My authenticity came through and I tapped into something fiery in myself that clearly touched something fiery in other people.
Honestly, I forgot about the post. I wrote it before I joined Hampton.
Last week, I shared learnings from my first 6 months on the job. What feels fascinating, and maybe a little ikigai2, is noticing that the work I am doing now is exactly the kind of work the version of me who wrote that LinkedIn post was longing for. It is as if I spoke something true out loud and then stepped into the reality of it. It feels surreal. Some people call it manifestation.
A job description
What I’m building at Hampton is working. So I’ve sought more support to help me build faster.
A few weeks ago, I poured my heart and soul into a job description for a product person to join my team. It did not read like a typical job description. It felt more like a manifesto or a calling to someone who shares a philosophy and a vision for the future. I was nervous to post it. Would it land? Would people get it? Everyone seems to only want to build AI right now….
It landed. I didn’t see the same “virality” as the AI post, but it had a surprising amount of traction for a job description. I put equal oomph into the LinkedIn post and the top description below:
Part of what I love about working at Hampton is collaborating with Sam Parr, one of our founders and an epic copywriter3. I often find myself going toe to toe with him on language, as we push each other toward sharper, more compelling writing. I wrote this job description with soul. Then, he pushed me farther. I never would have used the word “cult” in a job description at past jobs. That’s why I love Hampton.
So…about the open role…I have some amazing candidates in the pipeline, and that tangent will unfold another day, in another post.
Right now I’m going to focus on something else, something deeper I’m tapping into.
The lack of human connection
Today I want to reflect on the ripples that came from writing from my heart and the way people responded to it. Because something is happening: Under all our screens, beneath the excitement of AI, the lure of big tech, and the tiny hits of joy we chase on TikTok, there is an emptiness people are carrying around.
Simply put, we are connecting less and less.
I wrote about this in my newsletter a few weeks ago: I detailed a profound weekend in New York City, engaging with strangers and neighbors more than I had in months, maybe years. It was distinct, invigorating and joyous as hell.
And then there is my neighbor and her dog…
The neighbor with the dog
There is a woman on my block who has never said hello, even though our dogs have greeted each other more times than I can count. Dog people know the unspoken language of those interactions. But in New York City, people stay on the phone, keep their headphones in, and look away while the dogs do the socializing for us.
It’s tragic, really.
Then Halloween came.
I spent the evening handing out candy on my stoop making small talk with anyone who crossed my corner of the sidewalk. I gave out premo candy4, poured tired-looking parents swigs of wine into solo cups, and blasted my favorite music to get people to move their bodies on a windy October night5.
This neighbor with the dog: she came by, light hearted. I beckoned her to grab a few Reese’s because she mentioned it was her favorite candy. We talked for a minute. It was warm and easy. For that brief moment, we felt like neighbors.
This week I saw her again. She avoided eye contact and drifted back into her screen. Maybe she missed me, but dog people know - you remember people’s dogs. I felt the heaviness of realizing this is our default.6
What does that have to do with what I am building at Hampton?
Everything.
I came to Hampton to lead the Core Group team. On paper, that means helping founders find their groups, supporting moderators that lead these groups and figuring out what creates magic in the room.
I spent my first months drowning in frameworks, books, and suggestions people threw my way. There were infinite ways to engineer these experiences. Infinite ways to make them more complex. But the deeper I went, the clearer it became that the real magic was not in complexity at all. It was in simplicity.
An IRL experience with no phones. Three hours of eye contact, real listening, honest sharing, and people remembering what it feels like to be human together. The tools and structure matter, of course, but they are not what make it work. The connection is.
Spaces like this barely exist anymore. Unless we are lucky enough to have a partner or a therapist or a close friend or family member who creates room for us, most of our days are mediated through screens. We walk down our streets to and fro avoiding eye contact while our goddamn dogs say hello!
Core groups break that pattern.
They hold and withstand a human frequency we rarely access. One many of us actively avoid.
So no, what I’m building isn’t rocket science. This is a return to something we once knew and forgot. In a world obsessed with AI scale and digital everything, choosing to build something analog is almost rebellious. Aside from my historical need to embody contrarian ways of being, I’m authentically obsessed with what I’m building.
I’m not huge on LinkedIn or Substack7. But the messages I am getting from people about that job description. They feel unmistakably true. They are responding to the humanity, not the hype. They saw something in that job description that reached them in a way digital life no longer does.
And that is the clearest signal I could ask for.
Tell me…what’s your best non digital encounter this week?
I’m Jori Bell, VP of Core at Hampton. I’m also a Coach for Product Leaders. I have one more open coaching spot this season—if that sounds like something you’ve been craving, reach out.
Yes this probably helped with the “virality”
The most abbreviated version of his resume ever written.
Snickers & Reese’s if you must know.
At my core, I am a camp counselor & dance instructor.
Mind you, I wasn’t looking for deep friendship, just a friendly smile or nod.
Nor do I need to me but also heart and comment if you like this post ;)
Love this!