Silicon Valley is often depicted as a place where dreamers become titans, where napkin sketches morph into billion-dollar enterprises. From MAANG campuses to buzzing downtowns and storied startup office addresses in San Francisco, Palo Alto and Mountain View, the region radiates ambition and limitless possibilities. Yet, there’s a side outsiders rarely see — a quiet, haunting reality overshadowed by the pursuit of the next big thing. This is the pulsating energy our children grow up surrounded by.
For a few years now, both founders and investors have shifted the conversation away from “win at all costs” to “it’s a marathon, not a sprint.” This shift was well underway by 2015 with celebrity founders beginning to openly talk about the toll of sprinting 24/7/365 as we all started to see the finish line to exit further and further out.
When Arianna Huffington stepped down from leading The Huffington Post to launch Thrive Global in 2016, it became her vocal mission to tackle stress and burnout in the workplace, citing her own 2007 collapse from exhaustion and sleep deprivation as her own catalyst for change. AngelList’s Naval Ravikant regularly contemplated the importance of diet, sleep and exercise as foundational pillars, and mental fitness practices he described as akin to workouts that maintained mental well-being. Dustin Moskovitz, a Facebook co-founder who went on to co-found Asana, was an early voice in designing company culture around people — including work-life balance.
But the outspoken were still a vocal minority — those who rode the web 1.0 wave with minimal sleep and survived to advocate for change. First-time founders were mostly not yet privy to the glories of healthy sleep habits. The mental health movement was further catalyzed by increasingly unavailable pools of near-free capital due to rising interest rates driving the need for lower burn and higher efficiency. In business, this isn’t a bad shift, but the side effect is watching many promising companies fold when a decade ago they would have been backed.
Intertwined in this story of opportunity, winning and burnout, lies a deeply rooted cultural expectation of success. Imagine growing up in this world. Since the dawn of social media, clusters of teen suicides have drawn national attention. A stark contradiction emerges: How can a region brimming with resources, top-ranked schools and limitless opportunity also harbor a tragic record of adolescent self-harm? Just last week, another teen student chose to end their life by walking in front of a moving Caltrain in Palo Alto. Released last month, the Child to Adult Transition Study noted that 74% of adolescents experience clinically significant depression or anxiety with females more likely to experience and report symptoms (84%) compared to males (61%).
These numbers are high and we cannot ignore them. To some parents, our inclination is to protect kids from this toxicity and give them the childhood that we had — the one that birthed much of this incredible innovation sans home internet. However, to others, they see opportunity. They see a new home listed for sale this past Thursday in Palo Alto that states, “Since its 2017 rebuild, every owner’s children have gone on to Harvard or Stanford, paving the way for even greater achievements. Now, it is ready to pass on its extraordinary energy to the next family,” and they see a chance at their child being in the middle of the next big thing.
The culture of extremes — opportunity, pressure and “extremely hardcore” awesomeness — has created a world where creativity in our children has often become stymied by anxiety and a sometimes life-ending fear of failure. Yet, if Silicon Valley can change the habits of billions by failing fast, it certainly has the capacity to reimagine teen well-being.
Early pinnings of this were present but not prevalent when I was in high school in the ’90s. Kids crying in the hallways after difficult AP tests affected me so much that I chose not to take AP classes and instead took an alternate path of registering for a ton of interesting classes at CSM and Skyline — including calculus, philosophy and human anatomy — and was still accepted to UC Berkeley with 24 units.
Change starts with celebrating failure as a critical step in the journey to success. It means recognizing multiple paths can lead to the same place, ranking is less important than one’s ability to think and ask good questions, and that failure is not the end but rather an opportunity to try again. This is the Silicon Valley that I grew up in, and this is the gift that we must give to our children.
If you or someone you know is struggling with thoughts of suicide, please reach out for help. Call the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline by dialing 988 (in the U.S.). For international help visit findahelpline.com. You are not alone.
Annie Tsai is chief operating officer at Interact (tryinteract.com), early stage investor and advisor with The House Fund (thehouse.fund), and a member of the San Mateo County Housing and Community Development Committee. Find Annie on Twitter @meannie.
(0) comments
Welcome to the discussion.
Log In
Keep the discussion civilized. Absolutely NO personal attacks or insults directed toward writers, nor others who make comments.
Keep it clean. Please avoid obscene, vulgar, lewd, racist or sexually-oriented language.
Don't threaten. Threats of harming another person will not be tolerated.
Be truthful. Don't knowingly lie about anyone or anything.
Be proactive. Use the 'Report' link on each comment to let us know of abusive posts.
PLEASE TURN OFF YOUR CAPS LOCK.
Anyone violating these rules will be issued a warning. After the warning, comment privileges can be revoked.