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Curiosity is what drives me
There’s a family anecdote that my parents like to tell about me as a baby. As the story goes, I was crawling around the living room floor, keeping my dad company while he worked on putting together a new table. Naturally, there were materials, screws, and half-a-toolbox-worth of other items strewn across the floor. As a result, my dad kept a close eye on me, lest I should do something stupid. His attention was resolute, save one lapse which came minutes later upon his need to grab an extra tool from the garage. He returned hurriedly, fearing that I may have already leapt at the opportunity to put a piece of metal in my mouth. Well, he was even more shocked to find that while I had picked up a nut and a bolt, I wasn’t so much eating them as I was fiddling with them to figure out how the mechanism worked. Even as a child, curiosity was my strongest instinct.
It’s probably moments like these that provided the evidence my parents needed to conclude that I would someday end up as an inventor of sorts. The product of a mother with a PhD in astrophysics and a father who studied French Literature at Oxford, I’ve always felt as though I could attribute a lot of the way I think to the combination of science and art. And I don’t think that anything better incorporates those two often-opposed disciplines as neatly as does entrepreneurship.
A headache for my primary school teachers
Growing up, primary school rarely challenged me, and though I loved learning new things, I didn’t love being told what to do and how to do it quite so much. I kept a notebook during this time that was quickly filled with ideas and sketches as a result. Anything from a cool-looking rocket ship to a concept for an experimental engine - one that would create kinetic energy from hot and cold air currents in the same way that a tornado does.
My foray into innovation became more tangible when I started my first venture, Wonderballs, at the age of 10. Utilising a motorised mechanism I had constructed from parts, I decorated and sold high-bounce balls in the schoolyard for a generous mark-up. With the help of my best friend, Harry, we built a website that received thousands of views and raised $400 for a poverty alleviation charity through the sale of our balls. (In case you are wondering, this website is still live, for better or for worse.)
Yes, I did go through a nerd phase
When I moved from Melbourne to Perth to begin high school, I left behind a great many friends, and as a result, my involvement in Wonderballs waned. I had found that the time I had for entrepreneurship dwindled as my focus shifted to academia. I was a nerd by all accounts - but a proud one at that. High School was a great time for me, and finally being able to choose the subjects that interested me, I flourished.
One of the best glimpses into the mind of High School James that I can offer you came just after finishing my mid-year exams in Year 11. Finding myself bored and looking for something to do, I asked my friend to share with me the content for Human Biology - a subject which interested me, but one I was not taking at the time. A couple of weeks and a conversation with an academic counsellor later, I was signed up for an extra subject, excited to begin term 3 with so much to learn.
I continued with all seven of my subjects into year 12. As the school schedule could only fit 6, I had a clash between English and Mathematics Specialist. This meant that I only had to go to half of my English classes (and given my disinterest in the subject, I would have taken any excuse to get out of there).
Despite the extra workload compared to my peers, I received the highest average grade across my subjects and was awarded Dux of College as a result. I was also recognised as the top student in physics, economics and mathematics specialist (the last of which was a particular honour given that I only attended half of the lessons).
The mess that was me completing my degree
Out of high school, I applied for and was offered a place into the Maths and Physics course at St Andrews University in Scotland but ended up staying in Perth for love (which, given the relationship only lasted another 6 months, seems rather foolish upon reflection). As a result, I found myself enrolled at UWA. And after changing my mind several times, I landed upon Computer Science and Data Science.
At this point, you may be expecting the whole “I dropped out of uni to build a billion-dollar start-up” story, but the truth is quite the opposite. In actual fact, I tried to do more university than they would allow. Little did I know, in my enthusiasm to learn more I had found myself very near to the maximum allowable number of units within a bachelor’s degree. In no uncertain terms, I was told to cut down my enrolments and to focus on “just finishing the degree”.
Stepping into the world of for-purpose
Suddenly finding myself with an abundance of time on my hands, I figured volunteering might be a good way to spend it. I logged on to the Volunteering WA website, and applied for every advert I could find that mentioned anything even slightly related to websites or technology. Website Design? Absolutely. Digital Marketing? Why not? Social Media? Um…sure! As it happened, there were quite of few of these job postings, and when I received lots of interest in return, all of a sudden I found myself volunteering with half-a-dozen organisations in parallel.
Though it sounds like that annoying Ashley & Martin hair loss advertisement to say, this semester was really a turning point for me. Having grumbled about how theoretical my degree was to anyone who would listen, it was a relief to finally use my skills outside the classroom, and a real joy to see them making a difference. I never thought I would be put in charge of managing the social media of a festival of multiculturalism with an attendance of 30,000 people. The best part? I even made my “DJ debut” when, during the dance competition, I was tasked with playing the backing tracks for each group.
This time spent volunteering was eye-opening for me. Of course, going into it I didn’t think that the not-for-profit sector would be as tech-savvy as those St George’s Terrace mining companies with their remotely controlled knick-knacks. But I never could have imagined that they would be quite so far behind - a digital divide of between 10 and 20 years. It was confronting - especially knowing how many people rely on these critical community organisations.
My first attempt to move the needle
On stumbling upon this great divide, I was compelled to act. One of the first areas that suffers when an organisation lacks internal technology knowledge is their digital marketing, and in particular their website. With volunteer signups, beneficiary reach and stakeholder engagement all dependant on the quality of this digital experience, it seemed like a natural place to start.
Along with my friend, Serena, we formulated a hackathon concept called BrandCamp which would see teams of university students interested in marketing paired with local not-for-profit organisations. In under 48 hours, and coached by one of Perth’s leading design agencies, students worked together to present their ideas for what a brand renewal might look like. The outcomes of the event were better than I could have imagined - students remarked that they had learned more in a weekend than the rest of their degree, and charities were thrilled to receive actionable insights for revitalising their online image. We couldn’t have done it alone, however - the generous support of Juciebox Digital, and the $10,000 grant we received from UWA’s Alumni Fund was instrumental.
The origins of Zentient
It was around this time that I auspiciously ran into my soon-to-be Zentient Co-Founder, Steven. We were already acquainted when I decided to have lunch with him in the dining hall of St Catherine’s, from where I worked. He has always had a great mind for bouncing ideas of, and refining them in the process - it’s part of the reason we work so well together. On this occasion, I was filled with enthusiasm and explained to him all of my start-up ideas. Some he liked, others not so much, but when I started talking about an idea to build a not-for-profit technology consulting firm the conversation really started moving.
Cut to just one month later and we are working from the (amazing) Bloom coworking space. Meeting rooms booked, whiteboard markers out, and ideas bouncing off the walls. All we knew was that we had technology skills that were sorely lacking in the for-purpose sector. But the question was how to develop a new and improved model, without stepping on the toes of others who do great work, such as WA University Consultants (WAUC) and 180DC, or the Deloitte Foundation.
The undoing of a tightly-bound perfectionist
By all accounts, I had achieved an exceptional amount for someone so young. Outside of work, I had already released three albums worth of music and a litany of other personal projects consumed my free time. But as I soon learned, everything has its price. In my case, the nearly quarter-of-a-century worth of stress that I had asked my mind and body to handle was starting to take its toll.
2022 was the first full year of operating Zentient, which in the beginning brought exciting opportunities, including taking on new clients and hiring new staff. However just months later, during a particularly difficult period for the fledgling business, with no new projects forthcoming and overheads draining what little cash we had, I was left with no choice but to lay off all of our employees. It was the only way we could stay afloat. Worse still, I hadn’t been paying myself, so I quickly burned through my savings to the point where I needed to borrow money from my parents just so that I could renew my Smartrider over the Christmas period.
At the same time, I was dealing with some issues in personal life. My lease had ended, forcing me to move back in with my parents who live near the Perth hills. It was a far cry from Northbridge, and the hours I spent each day on public transport withered me. I was also still reeling from a heartbreak that took months to move on from (and only inspired one song).
It was a perfect storm - and it left me as an anxious mess. My sense of self, which relied so heavily on always being perfect, was shattered when I realised that I had pushed myself so hard, and yet I was failing in all areas - Zentient was near insolvent, I had no personal savings left and I was living with my parents, exhausted each day.
I had heard about a Beyond Blue program which offered free counselling sessions for small business owners, so that’s where I turned for support during this time. My counsellor, Hanh, was excellent at helping to untangle the loops of shame that drove me to feel a compulsive need to be hyperproductive. It really helped to seek professional guidance, and I can’t recommend the program enough to anyone in a similar situation.
I’m sorry, old James can’t come to the phone right now
The experience of 2022 stayed with me and 2023 saw great change in both my personal and professional lives. Those who know me well will have heard me talk about “old James” and “new James” as a reference to the fact that the transformation has been so huge that I barely recognise myself.
I have a lot of compassion for “old James” and without a doubt, his insatiable drive to always do more has been an enabling force for me - I wouldn’t be where I am without it. Importantly, I am now able to see more clearly the strain it has put on me, and slowly I’m getting better at finding balance.
Perhaps surprisingly, working on my mental health and adopting a more self-compassionate mindset hasn’t made me lazy, unproductive, or less competent. In fact, it has only improved my ability to get things done. It’s amazing how being less stressed can provide greater clarity of judgment. It hasn’t just been good for me, either, Zentient is more established and stable than ever before.
2024 and beyond
Taking a human-first approach has become an instrumental part of the way I work with my team and with clients. Knowing that the challenges that organisations face often involve a human component, this equips me with a unique skillset to build harmonious and thriving digital cultures. I will admit, however, that us computer scientists don’t set a very high bar when it comes to social interactions.
I hope to continue working within the sector for many years to come, using my technology, innovation and people skills to help organisations do more good with less. So I will never say no to a coffee with an awesome organisation that just wants some informal advice.
