“I do not / will not write any code.”
That was one of the important details in the note I sent to Aaptiv.
Cyral wanted me to become an advisor. The company was working on database security, putting a layer between an application and its database to handle auditing, timelines and change logs. I had already been helping informally with the prototype.
The founders wanted me involved in a deeper way.
I wanted that too. I had wrapped up a couple of other advisory roles and was looking for a few new ones in technologies I found interesting. Data infrastructure definitely qualified.
But Aaptiv was my actual job. Before I accepted a title or shares, I forwarded the request to the company and asked for a conflict check.
The email was not complicated. Cyral had no direct relationship to fitness or the proprietary technology we were building. The company was still pre-Series A. I would not be writing code. I explained what the product did, what my involvement had been and why I wanted to continue.
Part of the answer was the technology. Part of it was the people.
The founders were connected to a group of technologists and investors I had worked with on the West Coast. Advising was a way to help a company I liked and stay connected to that network while I was operating full-time in New York. I had changed coasts. I did not want those relationships to disappear.
I was not trying to hide a side project or turn it into something bigger than it was. I put the details in writing and asked if anybody had questions before I accepted anything.
The response was basically: can we discuss it when I am back?
Fine by me. I had only sent the note then because I wanted it out of my inbox.
The advisory work was one more thing, but it was not random. Database security was useful territory for me. The founders were people I wanted to keep working with. I could contribute without pretending I was going to become an engineer on nights and weekends.
No code. Still in.