Day 82: Is Nextdoor Taking Another Four-Day Weekend?
It’s Day 82.
I’m still here.
Still reaching users.
Still talking to businesses.
Still raising questions for investors.
Still documenting my disappointment with Nextdoor.
And Nextdoor?
Well, from where I’m sitting, it looks like the company may be sticking to a familiar communications playbook:
It’s Friday before Labor Day weekend. Things have gotten very quiet.
No new post today that I’ve seen from Nextdoor’s corporate communications channels.
Nothing new from CEO Nirav Tolia.
And those two detailed Insights studies I’ve been requesting?
Still nothing.
But I do have some exciting news.
NXDR Is Up a Penny! 🎉
As I write this, NXDR is up approximately $0.01.
Hey, at least it isn’t down.
After 82 days, I’ve learned to appreciate the little things.
One penny at a time, people.
Of course, a penny on one trading day doesn't tell us much about the company's long-term value or investor confidence. What matters is sustained performance and whether management's decisions ultimately create shareholder value.
Will We Hear From Nextdoor on Labor Day?
My guess?
Probably not.
We'll see Monday.
But I have to wonder: how difficult is it for a corporate communications organization to schedule a Labor Day post in advance?
You don't exactly need someone sitting at a desk Monday morning typing:
“Happy Labor Day!”
Schedule it.
Go enjoy the barbecue.
Problem solved.
Then Tuesday arrives.
Maybe we'll get another beautifully polished message about verified neighbors, trusted recommendations, local businesses building brand recognition, and how Nextdoor is strengthening communities.
That's the messaging.
I'm interested in what happens underneath it.
Because the Bigger Questions Are Still Sitting There
How is Nextdoor's increasing monetization of small-business interactions going to affect the businesses that helped create the platform's local value?
Where are the two detailed Insights studies that Nextdoor's own previous blog posts invited readers to request?
How does executive compensation align with sustained shareholder value creation?
When does Nextdoor move from improving its losses to delivering the consistent profitability and value shareholders ultimately expect?
And when does somebody simply say:
“Niel, let's talk.”
That's the part that continues to amaze me.
This Could Have Been Very Different
I've said this before, but it becomes more relevant with every passing day.
If someone from Nextdoor had simply reached out to me almost a year ago, I doubt I would be this invested in documenting accountability today.
Not because they needed to agree with me.
Not because I expected special treatment.
Not because one phone call magically solves every disagreement.
Because somebody would have demonstrated something incredibly basic:
Accountability.
“We hear you.”
“We disagree.”
“Here's why.”
“Here's what we can do.”
“Here's what we can't do.”
That's communication.
Instead, I've spent months documenting what happens when questions linger, communication breaks down and a dissatisfied shareholder becomes increasingly interested in understanding why.
And here we are.
Day 82.
And No, I'm Not Interested in Being a Keyboard Warrior
Somebody reading all of these posts might think:
This guy just likes fighting with people online.
Actually, I'd much rather have a conversation.
In person.
By phone.
By web conference.
I'll even make it pleasant.
Let's Have a Virtual Coffee Date ☕
Anyone from Nextdoor who wants to discuss what I've been documenting is welcome to contact me.
I've provided this information before, and it's available on my website.
Email: niel@nielflamm.com
Phone: (843) 212-6824
Nirav, Communications, Investor Relations, Insights—or someone else at Nextdoor:
Pick up the phone. Send an email. Schedule a video call.
Coffee is on me.
Well, technically, my coffee is on me. Yours is on you.
Enjoy the Weekend
Maybe Nextdoor surprises me Monday.
Maybe there's a Labor Day post.
Maybe someone sends the studies.
Maybe my phone rings.
Maybe NXDR goes up another penny.
At this point, anything is possible.
Because almost a year ago, a conversation might have been enough.
Now we're on Day 82.
The invitation remains open.
Let's talk.
Recovery Update: The Bubble, the Blood Vessels & the Crusty Arm
Today was my one-week follow-up after having the silicone oil removed from my left eye, and apparently my recovery story needed another plot twist.
First, the easy update.
My arm is getting crustier.
That sounds disgusting because, frankly, it looks disgusting. The road rash from my disagreement with my prosthetic, gravity, and the carpet is continuing to scab over. It may technically be healing, but aesthetically, we're still several miles away from a Neutrogena commercial.
Now, back to the eye.
For the past several days, I've been talking about the horizon, the vinaigrette, the eclipse and, most recently, this translucent dot or bubble floating around in my vision.
Naturally, that was one of the things I wanted to ask about at today's appointment.
The Good News
The doctor looked at my eye and didn't see the translucent dot I'm seeing.
Okay. That's encouraging.
Apparently, whatever I'm seeing isn't something obvious sitting there waving at him from inside my eyeball.
The Bad News
He said what I'm seeing might be an air bubble.
So after spending the last week describing my eye as an airplane cockpit, apparently there might literally be air involved.
You can't make this stuff up.
The horizon has been shrinking. The vinaigrette has been disappearing. The eclipse came and went.
Now I've potentially got my own tiny bubble level.
👁️🫧
And Then Came the REALLY Bad News
This was the part of the appointment I wasn't particularly excited to hear.
The doctor is concerned enough about the blood vessels in the back of my eye that I may need injections into the eye to help prevent further bleeding or problems with those vessels.
Yes.
Shots. In. My. Eye.
I've dealt with an amputation.
I've dealt with dialysis.
I've had retinal surgery.
I've had silicone oil put into my eye.
I've had silicone oil removed from my eye.
And somehow the phrase "injection into your eye" still manages to get my attention.
I'm not saying that's definitely happening yet. That's the possibility we're now discussing, and we'll see where things go from here.
For now, I'm continuing the recovery process and paying very close attention to what I can—and can't—see.
The good news is that I'm seeing better than I was immediately after surgery.
The weird translucent bubble is still hanging around.
The arm continues to transform into one giant, crusty scab.
And apparently my left eye has decided that one surgery wasn't enough material for this blog.
Stay tuned.
At this rate, my eye may develop Wi-Fi tomorrow.
My Eyes Weren’t Playing Tricks—That Is Not a Parking Space
After dialysis, I made the 30-minute drive to Retina Consultants of South Carolina in Ladson for my eye appointment.
Apparently, the parking lot decided to test my vision before the doctor could.
I saw a vehicle parked in a spot that was not actually a parking space, squeezed unbelievably close to the cars beside it. I am not sure the pictures fully capture just how little room was left between the vehicles.
Maybe this was part of my eye exam:
“Niel, can you identify the illegally parked vehicle?”
Yes. Yes, I can.
The scene reminded me of something that happened many years ago after a business trip. At the time, I was neither physically nor emotionally sober.
I returned to the long-term parking lot at O’Hare, exited the train, and walked down the stairs. My car was parked nearby, which should have been a pleasant surprise after traveling.
Instead, someone had parked beside me in a space that did not exist. Their car was so close to mine that I could not open the driver’s door.
I had to climb into my car through the passenger side—all 350 pounds of me, at least—and maneuver myself across the center console into the driver’s seat.
But before I did that, I gave the illegal parker a reason to get a new paint job.
That was not my proudest moment.
Let me be clear: damaging someone’s vehicle was wrong. Their terrible parking did not justify my response. That story is not advice or something I am celebrating. It is simply an honest example of who I was at the time and how poorly I handled anger and frustration.
Today, I respond differently.
I take a picture. I write a blog post. I point out the problem without creating a bigger one—and without adding an appointment at the body shop to someone’s calendar.
Still, parking in a space that does not exist and leaving barely enough room for other drivers to enter their vehicles is selfish. You do not know whether the person beside you has limited mobility, uses a wheelchair or prosthetic, or physically cannot climb through the passenger side.
And no one—especially after dialysis and on the way to a retina appointment—should have to perform parking-lot gymnastics because you decided the painted lines were merely suggestions.
My eyes may be recovering, but even I could see that was not a parking space.
Be better, people. Be better.
Blocked by a CEO: What Does the Block Actually Say?
I recently wrote about being blocked on X by Nextdoor co-founder and CEO Nirav Tolia.
And after looking at that screen again, I started thinking about the psychology of the block itself.
Not diagnosing Nirav.
Not pretending I know what he's thinking.
Not claiming I've somehow crawled inside his head.
Because I haven't.
But I do find the behavior fascinating.
Why Does Someone Block a Critic?
There could be a dozen explanations.
Maybe Nirav thinks I'm repetitive.
Maybe he doesn't like my approach.
Maybe he doesn't want criticism appearing underneath his posts.
Maybe it's reputation management.
Maybe he considers my comments disruptive.
Maybe he simply decided, I don't want to deal with this guy anymore.
And you know what?
That's his right.
It's his X account. He can block me.
But here's what makes it interesting:
I'm not some random person yelling insults at him. I'm a shareholder asking questions about the company I own shares in.
I've questioned Nextdoor's leadership.
I've questioned executive compensation.
I've questioned the company's communication.
I've questioned moderation and verification.
I've questioned its treatment and monetization of small businesses.
I've questioned its research transparency.
I've questioned whether the strategy is creating sufficient shareholder value.
Those questions aren't disappearing because my account disappeared from Nirav's X feed.
Psychologically, What Does a Block Accomplish?
This is where the subject gets interesting without playing amateur psychologist.
Blocking someone creates a boundary.
It removes an unwanted interaction.
It gives someone greater control over what appears in their social-media environment.
It can reduce exposure to criticism.
It can end an interaction someone no longer considers productive.
And yes, in some circumstances, avoidance can also be a response to uncomfortable information.
Which one applies here?
I have absolutely no idea.
And unless Nirav tells me, no one else does.
That's precisely why I'm not going to call him psychologically insecure, diagnose him as a narcissist, or claim I've discovered some deep emotional wound.
That would be speculation masquerading as analysis.
Instead, I'll stick with something I can actually document:
He blocked me.
And I'll ask what I think is the much more interesting question.
Why?
The Power Dynamic Is Fascinating
Think about the people involved here.
On one side is Nirav Tolia.
Co-founder and CEO of Nextdoor.
Entrepreneur.
Guest Shark on Shark Tank.
Podcast guest.
Public-company executive.
A person with access to corporate communications professionals, investor relations, attorneys, media opportunities and a significant public platform.
On the other side:
Me.
One shareholder.
One blog.
No communications department.
No investor-relations team.
No Business Wire distribution strategy.
Just questions, screenshots, publicly available information, and apparently an impressive amount of persistence.
Yet I'm the one who needed to be removed from the conversation.
I find that fascinating.
Maybe It's Just Reputation Management
There's also an explanation that requires virtually no psychology.
Maybe Nirav simply doesn't want a persistent critic leaving negative comments beneath his public posts.
That's not necessarily insecurity.
It could simply be reputation management.
If that's the explanation, though, it creates another interesting question for me.
Nextdoor is a company whose entire business is supposedly centered around conversation, community, and connection.
The company wants neighbors talking to neighbors.
It wants neighbors recommending businesses.
It wants businesses interacting with communities.
It wants people exchanging opinions.
But what happens when the conversation becomes uncomfortable for the person running the company?
Apparently, at least in my case:
Block.
There's some irony there.
Here's What the Block Doesn't Accomplish
It doesn't change Nextdoor's financial results.
It doesn't increase NXDR's stock price.
It doesn't answer my questions about executive compensation.
It doesn't explain Nextdoor's strategy.
It doesn't resolve my concerns about small-business monetization.
It doesn't provide the detailed Insights data I've been requesting.
It doesn't address my concerns about communication, transparency, or accountability.
And it certainly doesn't increase my confidence in Nextdoor's leadership.
It accomplishes exactly one thing:
I can't interact with Nirav's X account.
Okay.
I'll survive.
The Questions Are Bigger Than an X Account
This is where I think CEOs—and really any leader—face an interesting choice when dealing with persistent criticism.
You can answer it.
You can ignore it.
You can dispute it.
You can explain why it's wrong.
You can provide evidence that contradicts it.
You can even decide that the critic isn't worth your time.
All legitimate options.
But blocking the person doesn't refute the criticism.
And that's why I'm not particularly interested in trying to determine whether Nirav is “thin-skinned.”
I'm interested in whether I'm wrong.
Show me.
If Nextdoor's leadership strategy is working, show shareholders the results.
If the monetization strategy is strengthening the neighborhood experience, show us.
If executive compensation is appropriately aligned with shareholder value creation, explain it.
If my interpretation of Nextdoor's corporate culture is completely wrong, demonstrate why.
If the detailed research I've spent more than 80 days requesting isn't available, just say so.
Those are substantive responses.
A block isn't.
Maybe I Hit a Nerve. Maybe I Didn't.
Could my criticism have annoyed Nirav?
Sure.
Could he simply be tired of seeing my name?
Absolutely.
Could somebody handling his social media presence have decided that blocking me was the easiest solution?
Possible.
Could it be nothing more complicated than “I don't want this guy commenting here anymore”?
Yep.
That's the point.
I don't know why Nirav Tolia blocked me.
But I find the decision fascinating.
I'm a shareholder repeatedly asking uncomfortable questions about leadership, executive compensation, company performance, and shareholder value.
Whether the block represents frustration, reputation management, a personal boundary or simply a desire not to see my criticism, only Nirav knows.
What it doesn't do is answer the questions.
And that's the part that matters to me.
Block away.
Blocked Again: Apparently My Questions Are Getting Through
There are days when you wonder whether anyone is actually paying attention.
Then there are days when you get a message like this:
“@niravtolia has blocked you.”
Well, I guess somebody noticed.
For anyone who hasn't been following this ongoing Nextdoor case study, I have a fairly consistent routine for publishing new content
.
First, it goes on my blog:
Then I work my way through the social-media neighborhood:
LinkedIn. Facebook. Instagram. Threads. Bluesky. Then X—my own page, Sarah Leary's page, Nextdoor's page, and finally Nextdoor co-founder and CEO Nirav Tolia's page.
Why?
Awareness.
I'm not exactly operating with Nextdoor's Communications budget. I don't have a corporate PR department distributing carefully crafted statements through Business Wire.
I have a blog, social media, and persistence.
So I use them.
Then I Got to Nirav's Page...
And there it was.
Blocked. Again.
The screenshot couldn't be much clearer.
I can apparently view Nirav's public posts, but I can't engage with them, follow him, or message him.
It amazes me.
Nirav Tolia is the CEO and co-founder of a publicly traded company. He's an entrepreneur. He's appeared as a guest Shark on Shark Tank. He's been making the podcast rounds discussing leadership, entrepreneurship, AI, community, and the future.
Yet criticism from one small shareholder with a blog apparently warrants the block button.
I don't know Nirav's reason for blocking me, so I won't pretend that I do.
Maybe he thinks I'm repetitive.
Maybe he doesn't like my approach.
Maybe he simply doesn't want my criticism appearing underneath his posts.
But I can't help wondering:
Am I hitting a nerve?
Because something about these questions apparently isn't welcome on his page.
Blocking Me Doesn't Fix Nextdoor
Here's the funny part.
Blocking me doesn't stop any of this.
It doesn't delete my blog.
It doesn't stop LinkedIn.
It doesn't stop Facebook.
It doesn't stop Instagram, Threads, or Bluesky.
It doesn't stop my posts on X.
And it certainly doesn't stop me from continuing to examine Nextdoor.
If anything, I'm more determined.
Because my questions aren't about whether Nirav Tolia likes me.
They're about the company he leads.
I'm a Shareholder. I Get to Ask Uncomfortable Questions.
I continue to question Nextdoor's direction.
I continue to question its communication.
I continue to question its treatment of small businesses.
I continue to question its moderation and verification systems.
I continue to question its research transparency.
And I continue to question executive compensation when shareholders are still waiting for sustained value creation.
I've previously written about Nextdoor's GAAP losses even while some operating metrics have improved. That's an important distinction: the company has made progress in areas such as revenue and adjusted EBITDA, but that doesn't automatically mean I should be satisfied with leadership or shareholder returns.
And yes, I want to know:
How much should a CEO be rewarded when shareholders aren't seeing the value they expected?
That's not personal.
That's corporate governance.
I wouldn't characterize executive compensation as literally “burning through cash for a bonus” unless the numbers establish that connection. But I absolutely believe shareholders should scrutinize how much cash and equity go toward executive compensation and whether the company's performance justifies it.
The Irony Is Spectacular
Nextdoor's entire business is supposedly built around conversation.
Neighbors talking to neighbors.
Businesses talking to neighbors.
Community.
Connection.
Recommendations.
Discussion.
And yet, when a shareholder repeatedly questions the leadership of the company built around conversation...
Block.
There's a lesson in there somewhere.
Especially after everything I've written recently about what looks to me, from the outside, like symptoms of a broken corporate culture:
Poor leadership accountability.
Unclear values.
Low trust and transparency.
Poor communication.
Resistance to feedback.
I don't work at Nextdoor, so I can't tell you what the internal culture is.
But culture eventually becomes visible externally.
And blocking criticism doesn't exactly persuade me that my assessment is wrong.
You Can Block the Account. Not the Questions.
I'm one shareholder.
I'm one user.
I'm one guy writing a blog.
Nirav has every right to decide who interacts with his personal social-media account.
And I have every right to continue examining the leadership and performance of a publicly traded company in which I'm invested.
So I'll keep asking.
Show me.
Show shareholders the results.
Show users the improvement.
Show businesses the value.
Show us that the strategy is working.
Because blocking my X account doesn't answer any of those questions.
It just means I'll have to skip one stop on my social-media publishing tour.
And I've still got plenty of other stops.