From Bagels to Battlefields: When a Breakfast Question Becomes a Food Fight
Sometimes I think Nextdoor deserves a new slogan.
Not "The neighborhood network."
Maybe...
"The Maury Povich Platform."
Because all that's missing is someone virtually throwing a chair while Maury announces...
"You ARE the father!"
A neighbor recently asked a simple question:
"Please suggest a place to get a NYC breakfast in Mount Pleasant."
Seems harmless enough.
If someone moved from New York and misses a bagel, a bacon, egg, and cheese on a hard roll, or a classic deli breakfast, why not ask the neighbors?
At first, that's exactly what happened.
People recommended restaurants.
They shared favorites.
The conversation was helpful.
Then...
It went off the rails.
Someone responded that they "just didn't get it," suggesting they wouldn't go to New York asking for Southern grits or fried chicken and questioning why people move somewhere only to ask for food from another place.
Except...
That's not what the original poster asked.
They weren't criticizing Charleston.
They weren't saying New York was better.
They wanted a recommendation for a meal that reminded them of home.
Thankfully, several neighbors pointed that out, and the original poster even responded by saying:
"When did I say anything negative about living here? I love it. Boy, some people want to fight!"
That comment resonated with me.
Because it highlights something I've been writing about for weeks.
Not every discussion needs to become an argument.
Not every question deserves to be interpreted as an attack.
Sometimes people want information.
Which got me thinking...
Maybe Nextdoor doesn't need to connect every nearby resident into one giant conversation.
Maybe there's another approach.
What if I could choose which neighbors I wanted to engage with?
Just because someone lives three houses away doesn't mean I want every post I make open to their opinions. In real life, we all have neighbors we enjoy talking to and others we coexist with. Why not let users customize their neighborhood feed around the people they actually want to interact with, while still keeping the platform hyperlocal?
Maybe I don't want every one of my real-life neighbors commenting on every post I make.
Maybe there's someone down the street with whom I've had a fence dispute, a tree dispute, or whom I don't get along with.
In real life, we avoid each other.
Why should every online conversation become another opportunity for conflict?
Giving people more control over who participates in their conversations might reduce unnecessary friction while still preserving the local community that makes Nextdoor unique.
Because right now, too often, simple questions become debates, debates become judgments, and judgments become entertainment.
That's why I jokingly call it "The Maury Povich Platform."
The platform has tremendous potential.
The challenge is creating an environment where curiosity doesn't automatically turn into conflict.
#NiravTolia, the ball's in your court. Whatcha going to do?
Join the discussion at NielFlamm.com/blog. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
#Nextdoor#NXDR#Leadership#Community#CorporateCulture#CustomerExperience#ProductManagement#Neighborhoods#SocialMedia#Innovation
Expectations Matter: Why I Share Feedback
If you think I'm being a Karen or a Keith (my apologies to everyone with those names, especially my friend Karen Romero), that isn't my intent.
I believe people and companies can't fix what they don't know.
I look for feedback all the time. Sometimes it's a bitter pill to swallow, but I know it's one of the best ways for me to improve, grow, and become better.
On my way to bring a recovery meeting to a detox behavioral health facility, I stopped at my local SONIC in Mount Pleasant. A fresh burger with pickles, onions, lettuce, and tomato (no cheese, please—I'm lactose intolerant... probably TMI 😄), a large order of tater tots, and an extra-large The Coca-Cola Company Zero—my favorite—sounded perfect for the 30-minute drive.
To make things quick and easy, I ordered through the app.
When I pulled into the drive-in stall, the carhop told me, "We're out of Coke Zero. Would you like Diet Coke instead?"
My real answer was no—I didn't want Diet Coke. I accepted it because I wasn't going to make an issue out of it. I also tipped the carhop, as I always do. The carhop didn't create the problem.
Later, I filled out the customer survey.
I wasn't looking for a free meal, a coupon, or any compensation. I shared an observation. At another fast-food chain, if a location runs out of a drink or food item, it disappears from the app. That means I know before I order that the item isn't available. It sets the right expectation from the beginning and prevents disappointment.
After submitting my feedback, I received a response telling me that "Shawn McLean" would be reaching out to me.
Guess what didn't happen?
Shawn McLean never contacted me.
From my perspective, that created two customer experience misses.
First, the app told me Coke Zero was available when it wasn't.
Second, I was told someone would contact me, but I haven't heard from anyone.
Neither issue was a major problem on its own. Together, though, they reminded me how important expectations are.
They also reminded me of Natalie Beckerman's book, When Did You Stop Caring?
I love technology. I appreciate mobile ordering. I enjoyed the burger. The pickles were outstanding.
But I value companies that do what they say they're going to do even more.
That's why I share feedback—not to complain, but because I genuinely believe companies can't improve what they don't know exists. Every piece of feedback is an opportunity to make the experience better for the next guest.
Join the discussion: what company has impressed you by setting the right expectations and then exceeding them?
NielFlamm.com/blog
Day 44: Change Is Immediate. Results Take Time.
This morning started at 5:00 a.m.
First order of business? Checking my fraternity's Powerball pool tickets.
The result?
We won $8...
...on a $130 buy-in.
Let's say the return on investment wasn't exactly Wall Street material.
While I was scanning the tickets with the South Carolina Education Lottery app, I had to laugh. I remember the days when checking lottery tickets meant comparing every number by hand, trying to memorize the winning combinations. Technology really can be a wonderful thing.
I also had another thought.
Before I scanned the tickets, I checked my email.
Part of me hoped I'd wake up to a message from Jacob Chavis.
I didn't.
Today marks another day without receiving the study or even an acknowledgment.
As I thought about that, my mind wandered to a conversation that may have taken place somewhere within Nextdoor.
I don't know who was involved.
Maybe it was between Nirav Tolia and Jacob Chavis.
It may have involved someone else in the leadership chain.
Maybe no such conversation happened at all.
But I couldn't help wondering whether someone, somewhere, said:
"Don't engage."
Or...
"Don't respond."
Or...
"Let's wait."
I don't know.
What I do know is that, from the outside looking in, continued silence raises questions.
Am I the only person who thinks something feels off about that?
I don't believe I am.
One of the most encouraging parts of this journey has been the people who've taken the time to react to my posts, leave thoughtful comments, challenge my perspective, or click the thumbs-up or heart button.
Those interactions matter.
They remind me that people are reading.
People are thinking.
People care.
They remind me that this effort isn't for nothing.
Recently, I heard a short video that said:
"Change is immediate. Results take time."
That line stuck with me.
Real change often begins the moment someone decides to speak up.
The visible results usually come much later.
Whether it's improving communication, questioning corporate culture, or encouraging accountability, meaningful progress rarely happens overnight.
So I'll keep asking respectful questions.
I'll keep listening to different viewpoints.
And I'll keep running the race.
Because while results take time...
The decision to pursue change happens today.
Join the discussion at NielFlamm.com/blog. Leave some feedback—I'd love to hear from you.
A Great Story—But Culture Is Built Every Day
I genuinely enjoyed reading this Nextdoor story about Spud, a shelter dog who found his forever home after being featured in Broward County Animal Care's "Paws and Protectors" campaign alongside members of the Broward Sheriff's Office (BSO).
Read the full story here:
https://wsvn.com/news/local/broward/new-paws-and-protectors-campaign-helps-broward-shelter-dogs-find-new-homes/
This is exactly the kind of positive, hyperlocal story that can bring a community together.
A dog found a home.
Law enforcement partnered with Animal Care.
Neighbors responded.
Everyone wins.
I applaud everyone involved.
Where I continue to struggle is reconciling stories like this with my own experience as a shareholder and user of the platform.
Today marks Day 43 since I requested a Nextdoor study from Jacob Chavis.
Over the weekend, I sent another email to Jacob Chavis, CEO Nirav Tolia, Investor Relations, Communications, and other company representatives.
As of today, I still haven't received the study, an acknowledgment, or a response.
That disconnect is difficult for me to ignore.
Nextdoor often speaks about building community, communication, and connecting neighbors. Those are admirable goals.
But culture isn't defined only by the success stories a company shares.
It's also reflected in how people are treated when they ask difficult questions, offer constructive feedback, or request information.
I also continue to have concerns about moderation. In my own experience, my neighborhood feed often contains complaints about almost everything imaginable, while moderation appears inconsistent and lacks visible quality assurance. At the same time, I've found it difficult to have meaningful conversations with the company itself.
That leads me back to the same question I've been asking for more than six weeks:
How is this culture acceptable?
The platform has tremendous potential. Not with the current regime.
Stories like Spud's remind us of what Nextdoor can be at its best.
Now I'd like to see that same commitment to community reflected in communication, transparency, consistency, and accountability.
Join the discussion at NielFlamm.com/blog. Leave some feedback—I'd love to hear from you.
Day 42: Culture, Moderation, and the Courage to Have Difficult Conversations
Today marks Day 42 since I requested a Nextdoor study from Jacob Chavis.
Forty-two days later, I still haven't received the study, an acknowledgment, or a response.
Over the past six weeks, my observations about Nextdoor have largely centered around three themes:
1. Culture
2. The moderation model
3. Communication
Let's start with moderation.
After a late night of blogging and recording videos for NielFlamm.com, I did what most people probably wouldn't do before bed—I spent some time browsing Nextdoor.
Yes, I know... I need better hobbies.
I came across a discussion that began about a week ago concerning who would temporarily fill the U.S. Senate seat vacated after Senator Lindsey Graham's death.
Yet, as I read through the thread, the conversation expanded well beyond the local topic into national politics, world politics, and religion.
Ironically, one participant even pointed out that the platform wasn't intended for national political discussions.
Yet the discussion remained.
A week later.
That raises questions.
Was the thread never reviewed?
Was it reviewed and intentionally left up?
Were reports submitted?
If so, what standards were applied?
These are the kinds of questions that naturally arise when moderation appears inconsistent.
Consistency builds trust.
Inconsistency creates confusion.
The second thought that struck me this morning came from a Facebook Reel by Polina Mireau, a former COO, operations consultant, and leadership coach.
She talks about something many leaders struggle with: avoiding difficult conversations.
You can watch it here:
https://www.facebook.com/reel/2764410343955450
Her point is simple.
Ignoring a problem rarely makes it disappear.
People often hope difficult situations will resolve themselves.
Most don't.
Leadership means having the uncomfortable conversation.
That message resonated with me because it's exactly what I've been asking of Nextdoor leadership.
Not agreement.
Not applause.
Just a conversation.
Whether it's CEO Nirav Tolia, Jacob Chavis, Investor Relations, Communications, or anyone else at the company, my request remains the same:
Let's have the difficult conversation.
If the answer is no, say no.
If the study can't be shared, explain why.
If I've misunderstood something, tell me.
Communication—even difficult communication—is almost always better than silence.
That's what builds trust.
That's what builds culture.
And after 42 days, I believe the conversation is long overdue.
Join the discussion at NielFlamm.com/blog. Leave some feedback—I'd love to hear from you.