Disclaimer: These are my personal thoughts on Naval Ravikant’s idea of “Curate People.”
Curious to hear what you think open to thoughtful discussions on this. 💭
Naval said something in a podcast that’s been echoing in my head the entire day, and maybe the reason it hit me so hard now is because I’m at a stage where I’m actually building something of my own. I’ve always been a “do it myself” kind of person, not because I didn’t trust people, but because I didn’t know how to choose the right people. I grew up around a culture where loyalty mattered more than talent, where “tera bhai, mera bhai” energy meant we pulled everyone along with us, whether or not they were meant for the journey. But when you start building a team, you realise loyalty is beautiful — but talent is survival. Effort is love, but skill is impact. And Naval’s line captures it perfectly: “Ask a new recruit to walk into the room, interview anyone from your team at random for 30 minutes, and if they’re not impressed, tell them not to join.” That one line cracked me open, because in my past, I’ve had experiences where I carried people who weren’t ready, trusted people who didn’t grow, and dragged along energy that slowed me down. I used to think I was being a good person. Today I realise I wasn’t being a good founder.
Great teams don’t rely on one superstar; they rely on a circle of equals. It’s what Naval calls “primus inter pares” — first among equals. And the truth is, the great ones aren’t locked inside job titles. They’re not just editors or designers. They’re multidisciplinary, curious minds who can pick up any problem, any domain, any challenge and make sense of it. I see this in myself too. I started as an editor, but editing wasn’t the limit — it was just the first place where my creativity found shape. When I first began Samvan, I didn’t even realise I was wearing 10 caps — marketer, sales guy, editor, storyteller, manager, strategist — because great work forces you to stretch into shapes you didn’t know you had. Naval’s words made me realise: the best people don’t fit boxes. Boxes shrink people. Roles shrink people. Talent expands when you let it breathe. That’s the kind of culture I want to build.
He talked about Steve Jobs keeping teams separate to avoid politics, Elon Musk telling people to walk out of meetings, and Jeff Bezos creating two-pizza teams because big groups kill productivity. And I felt that. I’ve sat in environments — college, collaborations, old freelance teams — where meetings became theatre and actual work became secondary. Even in my past editing experiences, I realised that creativity only flourishes when you have long stretches of uninterrupted time. Naval said something beautiful: let your people be bored rather than busy. Busy minds execute. Bored minds invent. Even in Mumbai, I feel this. When I walk alone or sit in a cab looking out of the window, my best ideas arrive. Not when I’m stuffed with tasks, but when I have breathing space. That’s why I want my editors, my teammates, my future crew to have maker’s time. Deep work time. Because creativity isn’t a task — it’s a mental environment.
Another thing Naval said shook me: engineers, creatives, builders — they’re all artists. Anything done for its own sake and done beautifully is art. That line reminds me of my early days editing videos in my room, when nobody knew or cared what I was doing, but I still obsessed over frames, sound, pacing, colour — because it mattered to me. No deadlines, no clients, no pressure — just pure expression. That’s art. And I want people like that around me — people who don’t need external pressure to create; their internal flame is enough.
Naval also talked about self-motivation, and it reminded me of a lot of past experiences — friends who needed pushing, teammates who needed constant reminders, people who kept saying “kal karenge.” But the truth is, in a fast-moving environment like Mumbai or a fast-growing agency like mine, nobody has time to babysit anyone. You give people a direction, and if they’re truly self-motivated, they move. If they need to be dragged, they’re not meant for the journey. I learned this the hard way when I initially tried to help everyone, guide everyone, carry everyone. But carrying people drains you. Walking beside the right people lifts you.
Then came Naval’s brutal but honest rule: geniuses only. Not geniuses in the academic sense — but geniuses in mindset, energy, and depth. High-agency, low-ego people who think beyond their job title. I’ve worked with people before who had ego but no skill, confidence but no competence, opinions but no output — and they drain an entire team’s spirit. One mediocre person attracts another and slowly lowers the standard. I’ve seen that in college groups, old collaborations, everywhere. Now Naval’s philosophy feels real: you’re not filling roles; you’re curating people. You don’t hire because there’s a vacancy; you hire because you found someone exceptional. You collect gems. You warehouse brilliance. You build a team where every member raises the bar just by being in the room.
Naval’s thoughts on burnout also connected with my past. There were times when I said, “I’m burned out,” but the truth was I wasn’t excited by the work or environment. Burnout wasn’t about tiredness — it was misalignment. When the work excites you, you don’t get drained; you get fuelled. And when the work suffocates you, no vacation can save you. I’ve lived both sides — the passion days where I lost track of time editing, and the days where even starting felt heavy. Naval said burnout usually means someone wants to quit — and if I’m honest, that’s true. When you stop caring, you call it burnout. When you care deeply, you call it flow.
And finally, Naval’s point about iterations hit home. People worship the 10,000-hour rule, but Naval says mastery comes from how many times you try, check the result, adjust, and try again. That’s how I learned editing. That’s how I learned storytelling. That’s how I’m learning leadership. Every project, every client, every mistake, every delivery — all iterations. And I’ve noticed something about myself: I improve fastest when I reflect. When I pause and ask, “Why did this work? Why did this fail? What can I change?” Great people don’t repeat loops blindly; they extract insights from every loop.
Today, all these ideas feel deeply personal because I’m not just learning them — I’m living them. I’m building Samvan. I’m building myself. I’m shaping my future team. And Naval’s words made one thing clear: your company is a reflection of the people you surround yourself with. Curating people is curating your destiny. You’re not building a team — you’re building an environment that multiplies you. And the future belongs to those who choose their circle with intention. In the end, maybe that’s the real definition of a founder: someone who becomes the curator of their own tribe.
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