A few years ago, my wife and I were sitting in a lounge at the San Francisco International Airport waiting for a flight. The lounge was completely packed, but we managed to find a little nook in the wall for us to sit and hang out for a short while. In a place that was bustling with businesspeople, Silicon Valley tech folks, and the occasional family here and there, we were pretty much flies on the wall. We loved to people-watch, so this was a perfect environment to enjoy this activity.

I remember this particular day because it was somewhat appalling yet entertaining. I really wish I could have recorded it, but it is forever etched in my memory because of how interesting it was.

We sat right in front of two men sitting at a long communal table who at first blush seemed to be friends, but as we eavesdropped on them, it was apparent that they were complete and perfect strangers. Both were white men in their mid 30’s, dressed in corporate yet casual attire. One wore a signature Patagonia fleece vest with a corporate logo blazoned on it. They were both facing each other, armed with laptops that seemed to unload their ammunition as they typed in bursts of salvos into cyberspace. When the clacking seemed to slow down, one of them began to engage the other in conversation.

“So, you’re at Adobe?”

Perhaps the corporate logo on the vest gave it away, but the gentleman responded in kind. They exchanged friendly banter and quickly discovered their stations in life. They key bases were covered: where they worked (which was of course, some reputable firm in tech), what they did at said company, where they were going, where they were from, and whether they had kids in school yet. To be honest, all this was fine and dandy and to be expected amongst any strangers meeting in the wild.

But then the part I remember next is what I took with me from being a fly on this Silicon Valley wall. After an innocuous pause in the conversation after all the initial status-sharing formalities were dispensed with, one of the guys volunteered the information that he was closing on a house in the Bay Area. He opened like this:

“I don’t know if you can notice, but today I’ve got a little ‘pep in my step.'” His eyebrows raised in anticipation. Of what, I couldn’t tell, but now I was interested too.

The other guy was curious. “Oh yeah?”

“Well, I don’t mean to humblebrag, but I just got this killer deal on a house my wife and I have been looking at over in San Jose. We beat out 3 other buyers to get this place.” After a pregnant pause, he put the cherry on top. “One-six.” When I sneaked a glance to him, his face looked like the smirking emoji with the side of one lip going up.

When he dropped the “one-six” my wife and I looked at each other and decided to begin actively eavesdropping while hiding behind the facades of our own phones and laptops. This conversation just went full Silicon Valley. I was reeling from trying to figure out what part of the humblebrag was humble.

The guy on the receiving end of this supposed humblebrag acted impressed and genuinely happy for him. “That’s great man! Congratulations.” The new homeowner continued to ramble on about what he did to get that great deal, far below market, closed escrow in 2 weeks, and so forth. He certainly had a “pep in his step.” We listened on for a few minutes, but then we had to gather our things to go to our flight. As we walked away I could still hear the fading conversation of these two Silicon Valley cogs grinding away at each other.

This short conversation stuck with me because it was a reminder of what this place (the Bay Area) is. I’m sitting in a hotel at the moment in South San Francisco typing this entry during some downtime, but couldn’t help but remember that one day at the airport. I was reminded of the reason I had come to grow jaded about Silicon Valley – the people in this place. Notwithstanding the people though, I still have hope for this Bay Area. Yesterday as I drove across the Bay Bridge from Oakland to the city, I took in the majestic beauty of the city, the water, and the awesome wonder it continues to be through the years. I miss this aspect of the Bay Area, and trust it will endure past the people who have ruined it in the past few decades.

But why Peter, why do you hate the people in the Bay Area? WHY!?

Truth be told, I might be going a little meta on this, but I don’t hate the people now directly – I hate the ideologies, mindsets, processes, and mentalities that have pervaded the Bay Area so much that it has made the people act and talk in ways that completely disgust me. This conversation with the “humblebrag” was a quintessential representation of this mentality. It was basically a trophy of performance. In my mind, this is what Silicon Valley has turned into – a bastion of performance. When people live in a place where evolving technology is at the heart of every aspect of life, there is performance behind the scenes taking place. There is performance behind the tech, the coding and design, the processes and infrastructure, the projects managed day in day out, the venture capital deals, buyouts, mergers, spinoffs, acquisitions, ad infinitum. When you think about what it takes to make all of the magic of tech happen, and the brainpower required, you begin to wonder about what is behind all of this performance. It’s really crazy to think about sometimes. I think of it a little like this – the nerd who was ridiculed and scoffed at in her or his grade school years is now a coding wizard at a high-powered and Silicon Valley company with heavy capital backing. Now who’s got the power, ey? The irresistible hubris that comes with this newfound social status combined with the lack of social skills and emotional intelligence (was too busy for that growing up right?) now present themselves in conversations. “Humblebragging” to others about status. About performance. And now, multiply that by thousands of people stuck with this same competitive mentality scattered across the Bay Area. I promise you that you can’t walk into any coffee shop in San Francisco without overhearing tech, capital up/down rounds, or humblebrags without the humility. THIS is what I have come to hate about the Bay Area. Everyone’s stuck in performance mode. I do speak in generalities, and there’s always exceptions to this rule, but hey – for this one, I’d dare say almost EVERYONE is affected.

A friend of mine who used to live in LA moved up to SF a few years ago with her husband. I asked her what she felt was different between the two places. She said it like this: “In LA, everyone only cares about themself, so it’s easy to socialize. They’re all about vanity and how they look. That’s why everyone lives in a shitty apartment but drive a fancy car and spend their money going out meeting new people. In SF, it’s different. People care about being a part of something, whether it’s a common interest, a group, community, or something where they can all relate somehow. It’s in these groups that they show off to each other because they all know what each other are talking about and speak the same language.” I thought this made sense – and it did seem that performance was at the heart of both locales, just manifested in a different way.

I visited my college dorm mate during our visit to NorCal this time around. He was working at an esteemed tech infra/security firm, and his wife worked at Google. I asked him what it was like, having lived in the Bay Area now for almost two decades now. While I knew he had good values and knew what was truly important in life, he had been pulled into the performance machine of Silicon Valley. The money was good. The hours and vacation time decent. The cafeteria was deliciously catered. The campus was cush like a mountain hotel resort. My friend and his family lived in Campbell, a suburb of San Jose. While they were a part of the machine, they also knew that performance was what it took to survive around these parts. He put it this way – that Silicon Valley was the only place where a well-funded company’s CIO has to travel from a modest apartment in  Livermore to Palo Alto (60-80 mins each way) in order to survive on his salary. It didn’t make sense to me. It didn’t make sense even to my friend. WHY do people live here? I had to wonder at this.

Perhaps it really is the money folks are after around here. It doesn’t even seem to be anymore how the money is made it’s just flaunting it as a representation of one’s performance. And boy does that get tiring… I know I couldn’t hang in these parts – not because I couldn’t hack it – but because I’d be afraid that performance is all I’d be able to focus on. And I’ve noticed that the constant focus on performance comes at the sacrifice of time, health, family, and relationships. Sometimes it even sacrifices personal ambition – kind of squashes it under the silver tray of neatly presented corporate compensation packages.

Maybe this is all a good reminder to us all about why we all do what we do. Sure, we can chase all of the good things in life and perform hard to get them, but when we do get them, what’s all this really about? So far to me the only enduring thing points to meaningful relationships, helping others, leaving a positive feeling with others, and building a generational legacy that one can truly be proud of. Maybe this is my performance. This is what gives me a “pep in my step.” Sure a nice house would be fantastic, driving a cool sports car would rock, and I could get things left and right to satisfy my desires. But I dunno. All of it seems so empty and devoid of meaning without purpose and relationships.

But I don’t mean to humblebrag or anything. 😉