Dear Liz, I’m the HR Manager in a great company. Our CEO asked me to coach a young manager who is having some trouble. We’ll call the young manager Jake. Jake is a super-smart guy but he wields his intelligence like a club. He gets into arguments with people and destroys them logically, so he wins arguments but destroys his relationships with his teammates in the process. Most of the other managers can’t stand him. He has a few friends and supporters.

If I could guarantee that every piece of content I created would go viral, I could spend a lot more time throwing myself out of airplanes. Since there’s no magic wand to wave that guarantees content will go viral, I’m stuck with just skydiving on the weekends and promoting content during the week. That doesn’t mean you can’t work a little science (that’s like magic, right?) into your content marketing to greatly improve the odds that content will go viral.

Golden State Warriors co-owner Peter Guber just celebrated his team’s record-setting 73rd win—the most in the NBA regular season—but it was a business failure that propelled Guber to achieve his extraordinary success in sports and entertainment. (Photo by Ezra Shaw/Getty Images) Guber, the chairman of Mandalay Entertainment, is fond of the telling the story of his “aha” moment.

You want to be successful, right? In fact, you’ve probably used that very word recently. But have you truly thought about it? What I mean is, have you deeply defined what the word means to you personally? I’m asking because we bandy it about all the time, saying things like: “Oh yeah, I want to be successful” or “I hope I’m successful,” but rarely do we define it in a meaningful way for ourselves. And that’s where things go wrong.

Dear Liz, I work as a Technical Writer and Online Publishing person for a pretty well-known educational publishing company. I don’t love my job but I don’t hate it. It’s a great job from which to get a better job, because my company has a good reputation. I don’t have any reason to take a less-good job than I already have, because they like me here and I’m well-paid and well-treated. I got a call from a recruiter out of the blue a month ago.

ABC’s hit business reality show Shark Tank dominates Friday nights with 5.3 million viewers. Shark Tank‘s most loyal fans can be found in the Shark Tank Entrepreneurs group on Facebook (FB) . Its more than 16,000 members include entrepreneurs who’ve appeared on Shark Tank and those aspiring to. The group lets entrepreneurs pick each other’s brains about finding manufacturers, web site providers and all other business needs.

Just a few years ago, the situation was looking dicey for Facebook. The company’s IPO was a disaster and it appeared that its strategy on mobile was in disarray. Interestingly enough, there was buzz that Mark Zuckerberg was really not cut out to be the CEO. Well, of course, all this proved to be just another important stepping stone in Facebook’s tremendous success. After all, the company is one of the most valuable in the world, with a market cap of over $300 billion.

As a young man I learned my basic reporting chops working for a regional daily newspaper based in northwest Connecticut. We were all, we felt, understaffed, overworked, underpaid and fighting a never-ending battle to gain readers and pull in revenue. And this was back in the mid 2000s, as online news media was on its way to supplant hardcopy newspapers and magazines as the medium of choice for readers the world over.

I’ve always been a huge believer in the power of mentorship and I’ve been on both sides of the relationship. Many of my most important lessons about business and life have come from people who were willing to give me the time to get to know me, be a sounding board, and give me advice. But while the level of trust and respect that develops is hard to replace, the recommendations we get aren’t always right. Especially when that mentor is me.

This article originally appeared on Quartz. I’ve always taken pride in relating to the underdog or little guy or gal. I grew up a skinny Asian kid who was often ignored or picked on. It stuck with me and branded my soul. As I grew up, I tried to stick up for whoever seemed excluded or marginalized. I became a Mets fan. I’d go to a party and find the person who seemed the most alone or uncomfortable and strike up a conversation. My zeal extended to my professional life.