Steve Huffman0:00
There were probably about a dozen companies doing effectively what we wanted to do, which was order food from your cell phone. The thing was, in 2005, iPhones didn't exist, apps didn't exist, restaurants weren't really on the internet. So the ecosystem didn't really exist yet for what we were trying to do, which was allow people to order food on their cell phones so they didn't have to wait in line at restaurants — basically to make carryout faster.
So we went to Harvard over our spring break to see Paul Graham give a talk called 'How to Start a Startup.' We saw that talk, afterwards we met Paul, we told him our idea. This was actually Alexis's doing — I was basically the engineer and Alexis was the pretty face, the charming guy. Except he didn't have a pretty face back then, he had this like ratty, scraggly beard. But now he's a pretty guy, he's dating Serena Williams, he's doing okay.
Anyway, we met Paul, we told him our idea. Y Combinator didn't exist yet either. And in fact, that weekend for Paul was the impetus for Y Combinator, because he met a bunch of people, a bunch of kids like me basically, who wanted to start companies, wanted him to invest. And he told them all no, and then he felt guilty about it. So they announced YC. Alexis encouraged me — this is lesson number one, this is a basic one but here we go — he encouraged me after we met Paul, after we had gone back home to Virginia, to write an email to Paul thanking him for his time, basically. Which seems like a no-brainer, but I probably wasn't going to do it. I was really shy at the time, I just didn't want to bother him.
And look was like, just email him and say thanks. Paul responded, he's like, 'Oh, are you those guys from Virginia? I just announced this thing called Y Combinator, you two should apply.' And so we did. And we actually thought we had really good odds of getting in, because we had already told Paul our idea, we talked to him for an hour about it. So we headed back to Boston for YC interviews and were ultimately rejected, which really pissed us off, because I just said we talked to him for an hour already, so he could have saved us a trip.
On our way back to Virginia on the train, Paul called us and said, 'If you want to work on something else, come back. We like you guys, we just don't like that idea. We'll figure out what it is and you can work on that.' And so we did. We had a brainstorming session, and that's ultimately what led to Reddit. I still have my notebook, it's in my desk at work, with the notes I took during that brainstorming session. And in there I wrote 'front page of the internet.' And so that's the idea we had going in.
We were basically going to build a combination of Slashdot, which was my favorite website at the time — it was slashdot, 'news for nerds, stuff that matters.' It was one of the preeminent communities online. I don't know if any of you even remember Slashdot, it's still around. It sold for a billion dollars at one point. It was the best, it had the best users, the best content. We were basically going to try to recreate that community with more modern mechanics.
But our motivation at the time was basically: I don't want to look stupid in front of Paul Graham. It wasn't to actually build the front page of the internet, it wasn't to build a big company, it wasn't to change the world, it wasn't even really to make money. It was, well, here we are, we lucked into the situation, let's make the most of it — or at least let's not look stupid. And that's lesson number two. I'm going to stop counting them once I at least run out of the numbers. But lesson number two is basically: think bigger. That alone — like not having a plan, not having a vision — that should have killed us. But we're very fortunate that it did not. And this pattern will come up a lot over the years for us, that there's lots of things we did wrong that should have killed us, but we're very fortunate that it did not.
So we're working on the site with no real plan, no real aspiration, no real design, no product plan — just kind of going with the flow. You know, if you were building the front page of the internet, what would it do? That was kind of our mentality. And so we had the shell of the site. I remember a very clear moment — so we started actually working around June 15th or so, about two weeks in, Paul sent me this email. Now we were Paul's kind of pet project, because of the way we got into YC, because he basically brought us back and helped us come up with this idea.
He sent me this email that said, 'Why haven't you guys launched yet?' We'd been working on it for two weeks. He's like, 'Why haven't you launched yet? It's either because you're waiting until it's perfect, or you're incapable of doing it. And I don't know which is worse.' And you know, I was a 21-year-old kid, this was my idol in many respects, my feelings were hurt to say the least. Remember, my only motivation was don't look stupid in front of Paul Graham.
So I responded to him in this actually kind of weak manner. I was like, 'Well, here's all the things I'm working on.' I was treating him like my boss. Actually, there's another lesson in here, which is: have enough self-respect that Paul's not our boss. I don't owe him anything. He's an investor. Investors aren't your friends, investors aren't your boss. And I was behaving like, 'Here's what I'm doing.' No, I'm actually competent, you know, trust me. I was actually incompetent, probably. But nevertheless, I rushed and rushed and rushed, and we put something online on June 22nd. In fact, we didn't actually put it online — I emailed Paul and said, 'Here it is, it's working, see?' And it was just a link to this website that was running off a machine in our apartment, I believe.
And then Paul wrote an essay — his essays were fairly popular at the time. He wrote an essay about startups or something and he linked to Reddit. And so that's how we launched. I was sitting in our apartment, and I had my screen for my computer where I did my development, and I had a second screen in my field of vision that basically had the logs, the error logs, and it just started scrolling really fast. I was like, 'What the f*** is going on?' And I'm looking at all these errors. And then I dig in, dig in, and find out we're getting a ton of traffic. I'm just like, 'Where? How? What happened?' And I later learned it was because Paul just launched for us.
The website was like super shitty. I mean, if you think it's bad now, imagine how it was with three weeks of work with people who had no idea what they were doing. But that's how we launched. And from that moment on, we continued to just try to make it look like it was working. So Alexis and I had like a few hundred accounts between the two of us that we would submit content as on the site to make it look like it was working. Because we didn't want the front page to look blank, and we didn't want it to look like all 'spez' — which is my username — and nothing, which was his. So we had all these fake usernames that we used, and we had this whole streamlined process for scraping other websites and submitting the content as fake usernames to make that process more smooth for us.
And so we did that for a few months, and occasionally you'd see real users come in. I'd recognize my mother's username, I'd recognize my friends' usernames. But occasionally you'd see a user and be like, 'Oh, who's that?' And that was actually kind of a funny experience for us, like, 'Oh, is that a real person? I guess, neat.'
I remember taking the day off — this is one of the turning points in the company, a really important moment for us. So in August, we'd been online about two months. In August, I took a day off. I don't remember why, I was just tired, burned out, I didn't feel like working. I whatever, I just didn't work. And we had this problem on Reddit where if you didn't submit content, the front page would dry up, it would turn blank, because we only allowed links less than 24 hours old on our front page. And so if we didn't have 25 submissions that day, the page would actually just slowly become blank as things expired.
And so anytime I took a few hours off, I would see this happen. And so after taking an entire day off and not thinking about Reddit, I came home that evening and I was like, 'F***, what am I doing? Reddit is probably blank right now. This is a huge problem.' And so I frantically opened my laptop, checked it out, and it was full of content — front page was full. And that was the moment when we realized that we had a real thing. These were real users.
And so that's when our motivation changed from 'let's not look dumb' — the fear of failure motivator — to, 'Okay, now we owe it to these people, however few there are, really probably a few hundred, maybe thousands, not a ton, to keep this thing online.' Because somebody's getting value out of this. And that was a really, really special moment for us. And that was the kind of modus operandi for the next few years, really — just preserve it, just let it grow. You know, we added features, we changed the design here and there, but it's mostly let's just keep this thing working.
So we sold Reddit to Condé Nast in 2006, after about 18 months. We sold at the time because we were really dysfunctional. There was four of us by this point — there was Alexis and I, there was Aaron Swartz, whom you may have heard of, he was in Y Combinator that first summer as well, he ended up joining us, we merged companies. And Chris Slowe, who was our first employee, who was also in YC that summer. So really three of those first eight YC companies turned into Reddit in some fashion or another.
The problem we had was Alexis — his mother was ill, his mother had cancer. He found out that first summer and she has since passed away, but that summer and the rest of that year, he was spending a lot of time with her and dealing with that. And so he was kind of gone — if not physically, definitely mentally, a lot. Aaron, him and I had a fantastically productive four months over the winter of that first year, but then he lost interest. We had kind of different visions — more to the point, now that I reflect on it, he had a vision and I didn't really. But his vision was different from anything I could come up with. And so I wouldn't say we had a falling out, but we just kind of stopped working together.
And then Chris Slowe, who was incredibly productive, was working on his PhD at the time. So he would spend all day working, and then he would go home at night — or he'd come home at night and work on Reddit basically while I slept. So he's kind of a superhero. He still works at Reddit, him and I have been working together for over 10 years now. But he would get up before I got up, go work on his PhD, come home, we'd have dinner together, I'd quit working, go to bed, and he'd be still up. So I don't know if he ever actually slept. Now he's got two babies, so he definitely doesn't ever actually sleep.
So that left me at the time, during that first year, as the only engineer working. And now we had to start to confront issues like spam and scaling, and just lots of — every day it was like an emergency, what do we need to take care of today just to keep the site online. And so I was burning out, I was just running out of energy. So when Condé was interested, we were interested. And we actually felt like — our mentality during that negotiation was that we were getting away with something. Like, somebody's gonna pay us for this piece of s***. We're completely dysfunctional, we're pretending, like we put on a happy face when we talked to them, but we didn't know what we were doing, we didn't know why we were doing it. I was completely burned out, and they were going to pay us. So we're like, yeah, that's a good deal, we'll take it.
And we felt like we were giving them a bad deal. We may find out that was a pretty good deal for them. We'll see. So we ended up selling to Condé, we moved to San Francisco. We worked in the Wired office — Wired.com was based in San Francisco. Condé is a big publisher, they have Vanity Fair, Condé Nast Traveler, Vogue — like magazines. And they own some cable companies, they own a few TV stations. But they're basically a big media company, almost entirely in New York City, except for Reddit and Wired, which they kept in San Francisco.
So I moved to San Francisco at the same time as a bunch of these other dudes that you're going to hear talk. Very fortunately, we all kind of lived in the same space. And at the time it was funny, because everybody was in the early days of their company, and I was the only one who had sold a company. So for a time there, I was like this little s*** who had some money, didn't work too hard, just kind of hung around while everybody else was like busting their ass on their startup. So those were good days, those were fun days.
But I worked for Condé on Reddit for the next three years. And you know, Reddit continued to grow. We developed all sorts of bad habits. Here comes another lesson: Reddit just grew every month. It just kind of grew, whether it was fast or slow, or downtime, or adding new features or not adding features, it just kind of grew. And so we had these inside jokes — you know, we would be down for a few hours and we'd turn the site back on and traffic would jump by 10%. And so we'd just be like, 'Man, maybe we should have downtime more often, like maybe that's why we're growing.' Or, 'Maybe if we don't add features, maybe that's why we're growing.'
It was kind of like we knew we didn't know what we were doing, but then we also felt like maybe we were doing something right. And I've seen a lot of companies go through this — they're growing, many of them sometimes quite quickly, and they think they're hot s***. Founders think they're hot s***, the whole team thinks they know what they're doing, like they're king of the world, everybody else is dumb, but we've got it figured out. And that may last even a couple of years. And if those companies don't realize that they don't know what they're doing, they enjoy that nice ride and then they crater. This happens all the time.
MySpace is probably the best example. I don't know if any of you even remember MySpace, but there was a time when MySpace was king of the world — they were the social network, they were the company everybody was chasing. They sold for like $500 million, which everybody thought was a lot of money at the time. I mean, it's a lot of money, but Facebook's worth 200 and some billion dollars, so that's the discrepancy. But then they didn't know what they were doing and they just cratered.
And you look at a company like Facebook that also went through that growth, and right place, right time, made better decisions than MySpace, but still didn't really know what they were doing. They hit a few plateaus over the years, but they figured their s*** out. They got their s*** together, they became good managers, they hired the right people, they actually had a plan, and they've powered through it. And so I'm always — whenever I'm talking to young people starting their companies, especially if those companies are going well, I try to remind them, ask them: are you going to be MySpace or are you going to be Facebook? And it takes some amount of humility to realize that you don't know what you're doing.
And at Reddit, we did not know what we were doing. And so I have been very fortunate, Reddit has been very fortunate, in that we still have time. Reddit still grows, and we've got time to clean things up. But Reddit is a 10-year-old company, which is very rare for a 10-year-old company to still be in this position. But that's something I'm very, very thankful for. And if you find yourself in that position on your first company and everything's going right, it's not you — trust me, it's not you. And even if it is, remind yourself: it's not me. It's, congratulations, you started an internet company and the internet is growing. You start a company in a growth market, it's going to grow, that's nice. But it's not going to grow forever. So I'm going to pause there and see, do we have any questions right now at this point?