The serial entrepreneur learns how to connect in a polarized environment.
Presented by North Guide, our year-end “What I Learned” series asked BetaKit newsmakers to share insights, ideas and lessons from the year in tech.
A year ago, Ali Asaria stepped down as CEO of the Kitchener-Waterloo-based retail startup Tulip, which he had founded a decade earlier.
This year, Asaria co-founded a new startup called Transformer Lab, an open-source product that makes advanced machine learning with large language models accessible to everyone.
“This year, I realized that we don’t need to reinvent innovation: we just need to support the natural ambition of the next generation of kids.”
Asaria also emerged as an important voice and not-so-elder statesman in the Canadian tech landscape, offering balanced counterpoints on a range of issues impacting the national innovation sector, from capital gains and federal funding to sector layoffs and the need to reinvent universities. At BetaKit’s Town Hall in May, Asaria encouraged the audience to consider the role founders play in the lives and careers of the next generation of innovators.
As his new company prepares for growth in 2025, Asaria talks about his own growth as a communicator, innovator, and repeat founder.
What I learned
In January, I stepped down from my role as CEO of Tulip to focus full time on learning and building with the foundations of modern AI. But in this year of AI, the biggest lesson I learned was about people.
This lesson came at a crucial time, as 2024 proved to be a year defined by deep divisions. Across the various groups I belong to, I witnessed unprecedented polarization. Whether discussing Trump, Gaza, the capital gains tax, or existential AI risk, people and communities I’ve known for years suddenly found themselves on opposite sides of seemingly unbridgeable divides.
As an engineer, my instinct when witnessing disagreement is to search for a ‘fix.’ My computer engineering mindset led me to believe that every problem could be solved through logic and ‘first principles thinking.’ But this year, across all these issues, I discovered that computer-like logic often leaves us at an impasse, and the conversations left me feeling depressed.
What I came to understand is that we are all—at our core—emotional and tribal beings who present ourselves as logical creatures. Accepting this fundamental aspect of human nature has transformed how I communicate and connect with others. I’ve learned to recognize that people operate from feelings first (even when they claim otherwise), and so that’s where dialogue must begin.
The first change I made was in how I listen. Now, when someone makes a polarizing claim on Twitter, I try to understand where their emotional alliances lie before engaging with their arguments. Can I comprehend their feelings, even if I disagree with their conclusion? If so, that creates an opening.
More importantly, I’ve transformed how I communicate. Whether pitching my startup or offering alternative political views in a blog post, I consciously avoid leading with logic. I’ve observed that many of the darkest perspectives stem from feelings of being undervalued, mistreated, cheated, or envious. Yet I’ve discovered one emotion that transcends all others: the combined force of hope and ambition. In my writing now, I strive to centre these feelings. What I’ve witnessed is that people from all sides will unite when they sense your unwavering optimism. Hope truly is both infectious and impenetrable.
An unexpected development occurred when I began sharing my optimistic outlook: the tech community rallied around me. I received invitations to speaking events, homes, and offices. Everywhere I went, people consistently asked, “How can I help?”
This response surprised me, as I was accustomed to feeling like I was on my own. It opened my eyes to the remarkable community we have here in Canada. Beneath all the layers of winter clothing, so many people have hearts full of hope—I feel incredibly fortunate to live here.
One experience this year particularly amplified my optimism. Jesse Rodgers, an old friend, invited me to Waterloo to meet a new generation of student builders. As I watched each young student demonstrate their project, the ingenuity amazed me. Even more striking was the palpable passion in the room: this young generation of builders wasn’t weighed down by the pessimism I often encounter among my peers. They were simply building, without expecting assistance. Their ambition and optimism fuelled my own, convincing me that the future is in good hands, thanks to the obvious potential of these amazing young minds.
This year, I realized that we don’t need to reinvent innovation: we just need to support the natural ambition of the next generation of kids, just as others supported me.
PRESENTED BY
If your organization is getting stuck or you’re not sure where to start in tackling your innovation challenges, give NorthGuide a call. Our systems approach and deep bench of experts can help your organization create a big impact in 2025.
