When I joined the Network School, I had two main objectives. First, I sensed my home country—Singapore—might be losing its entrepreneurial verve, sliding toward complacency. The old saying “good times create weak men” kept echoing in my mind as I traveled and compared mindsets. Countries like Vietnam seemed to be brimming with bold risk-takers, while Singapore, for all its achievements, felt more cautious than ever. I wanted to understand what fueled that spark in thriving nations and how I might help rekindle it at home. If I didn’t try, who would? We owe it to our forefathers not to squander the legacy they built with their grit and vision.

Second, despite years of experience in business, investing, and technology, I found myself stuck at a financial plateau. I’d reached a certain level of success, but that next big breakthrough remained elusive. I hoped the Network School might offer insight—perhaps an angle or perspective I’d been missing that could help me push beyond my comfort zone and unlock new levels of achievement.

I expected to sharpen my cutting-edge skills: evaluating the next crypto play, refining AI agents, and plugging into a future teeming with exponential growth. There’s still a part of me that looks forward to this: I’m not abandoning the idea of aping into the next degen coin or experimenting with AI models. But the Network School didn’t just hand me better tech tools or investment tricks. Instead, it guided me toward realms I’d never have explored on my own—history, geopolitics, and cultural evolution.

We delved into questions I’d never considered: How did China pivot from Maoist to capitalist? How did India transition from socialism to a more market-oriented economy? Why did Russia embrace communism, then collapse into the tumultuous 90s before emerging anew? How did Singapore itself, once a humble trading post, climb into its current position as a global hub? I learned about how Dubai engineered hypergrowth, how Argentina once rich became poor, and how Estonia transformed from a Soviet-occupied state into a digital frontrunner. Even San Marino—tiny and often overlooked—popped up as a historical curiosity of endurance and autonomy. These narratives provided a prism through which to see how civilizations rise and fall, adapt or ossify, and reinvent themselves in response to new pressures.

At first glance, these historical lessons seemed unrelated to my personal goals. I was here for the frontier stuff—crypto, AI, new forms of digital media. Yet what struck me was that every monumental shift in a nation’s trajectory came down to cultural decisions, historical contexts, and the will to transform. China’s embrace of capitalism, India’s post-socialist reforms, Estonia’s digital leap, and even the American frontier spirit or the Weimar hyperinflation and its consequences—all these stories showed me how history isn’t just a static record of the past; it’s a toolkit for understanding the forces that shape markets, innovations, and futures. Even when we examined how societies failed or regressed, I found lessons there: if we’re not vigilant, comfort can lead to stagnation, and stagnation can lead to decline.

This broadened view exposed a gap in my own development. I’d been so focused on the next trade, the next technology, the next big idea, that I’d neglected the foundational layers—cultural identity, family heritage, and a historical perspective. While everyone else at the Network School seemed fluent in their own narratives, I realized I couldn’t even clearly articulate my own family’s past. Understanding how societies reinvent themselves made me wonder what personal reinvention might look like if I explored my roots more deeply.

As my initial Network School journey concludes, I’m embarking on what feels like both a step back and a leap forward—a trip to China. Beyond exploring my family heritage, I’m eager to witness firsthand the future being built there: the seamless digital payments, advanced AI applications, and innovative business models I’ve collaborated with from afar. My five years of working with Chinese businesses have shown me their incredible drive and efficiency, but experiencing their technological ecosystem in person feels essential. While it might seem paradoxical to look backward and forward simultaneously, perhaps that’s exactly what innovation requires—a strong foundation of identity combined with a bold vision for the future.

This detour into history and culture isn’t a rejection of technology or progress; it’s a rebalancing act. By understanding the stories of countries that thrived or failed, by grappling with how civilizations expand or collapse, I might discover the “missing piece” I’ve been searching for—both for my personal financial ambitions and for the broader question of how to keep Singapore’s edge sharp. And who knows, maybe the simplest, most obvious move (like buying and holding Bitcoin rather than chasing every flashy altcoin) was there all along. I just needed a new perspective, informed by history, to see it clearly.

In the end, the Network School gave me more than I bargained for. It taught me that the forces shaping our world—technological, economic, cultural—are woven together in a tapestry of history. By understanding that tapestry, I hope to better navigate my own next steps, forging a future that’s not only profitable, but also profoundly rooted in who I am and where I come from.

Who am I kidding? It’s not all this historical and cultural stuff. I’m making it sound grand, but maybe what I really need is to stop being soft, work harder, and focus more. The legends at Network School are grinding while I’m off to China. Sure, I’ll find my roots—but maybe I need to find my backbone too.

Oh well, I will be back.