Day 65: A Reset—But Not of the Clock
It's Day 65 since I originally requested Nextdoor's Home Insurance Insights study.
That clock isn't resetting.
What I'm getting at with a semi-reset is my approach.
I've written plenty. I've sent detailed emails. I've asked questions about communication, leadership, moderation, accountability, and most recently, whether my experience represents differential or discriminatory treatment.
Today, I stripped all of that away.
Simple. Short. To the point.
I sent Jacob Chavis an email requesting two things:
1. The Home Insurance Insights study I've been requesting for 65 days.
2. The full “How Neighbors Approach Financial Advising and Investing” study, which Nextdoor recently published and specifically tells readers to contact Jacob for additional detailed data.
That's it.
No lengthy explanation.
No 65-day history.
No commentary about Nirav Tolia, Sarah Leary, Communications, or Investor Relations.
Just two requests.
Now let's see what happens.
Maybe Jacob responds.
Even better, maybe I simply receive both studies, and we can finally put this particular question to rest.
If I don't?
Then the question I've recently raised about discrimination or differential treatment becomes even more interesting to me.
I'm not asserting that unlawful discrimination has occurred. Whether there is a viable legal claim—and whether any broader group has experienced comparable treatment—is something an attorney would need to evaluate based on the facts and applicable law.
So I'll put this out there:
Is there an attorney experienced in discrimination, corporate practices, consumer rights, or shareholder matters who finds this situation worth exploring?
Potentially even whether there's a broader pattern affecting others?
If an attorney believes the facts support an individual or class-action case and is willing to evaluate it on a contingency-fee basis, I'm open to a conversation and, if appropriate, serving as a lead plaintiff.
Reach out.
But I'd much rather have the simpler outcome.
Two studies requested.
One short email.
Let's see if Nextdoor responds.
The reset starts today.
The 65-day clock does not.
Full timeline at NielFlamm.com/blog.
✈️ New York This Weekend… Maybe. Mother Nature Has Entered the Chat.
This Saturday, I’m supposed to be flying to New York—LaGuardia (LGA), specifically—then heading over to Astoria, Queens for a yearly gathering.
Normally, I’d be excited.
It’s a nonstop flight, which already makes the trip significantly more appealing. No sprinting through Atlanta. No sitting in Charlotte wondering why my connecting flight has changed gates four times. Just get on the plane, land at LGA, and head into Queens.
And then there’s Queens itself.
The bagels. The pizza. The Greek food in Astoria. The seemingly endless supply of carbohydrates that somehow taste better once you cross into New York City.
I grew up in New York, so there’s also something familiar about going back. Even if the trip is short, there’s always a little nostalgia mixed in with the carbohydrates.
There is, however, one potential problem:
The weather.
Right now, Saturday is looking a little questionable, with about a 55% chance of rain throughout the day.
Now, I’m willing to travel for a good bagel.
I’m willing to travel for New York pizza.
I’m willing to tolerate LGA, traffic, questionable drivers, expensive everything, and the possibility that someone will honk at me for absolutely no reason.
What I’m not particularly interested in doing is flying all the way to Queens just to spend the day staring out of a hotel-room window watching rain fall.
I can sit inside and watch rain in South Carolina. It’s significantly cheaper.
Of course, weather forecasts several days out have approximately the same reliability as some dating profiles: interesting information, but I'm not making major life decisions based on them just yet.
So, for now, the trip is still on.
The suitcase isn't packed.
The bagel order hasn't been placed.
And I'm watching that forecast.
Will I be eating pizza in Astoria this weekend?
Or will I be sitting comfortably at home thinking about the money I saved by not flying to New York to watch it rain?
Stay tuned.
Is Nextdoor Discriminating Against Me?
After writing my other posts today, I came across something that changed the conversation.
Nextdoor published a new Insights report today:
New Nextdoor Insights Report: How Neighbors Approach Financial Advising and Investing
And at the bottom?
Nextdoor tells readers who want the full report with detailed data, additional audience segments, and strategic recommendations to contact Jacob Chavis, Customer Analytics & Insights Manager.
Yes.
This is the same Jacob Chavis I've been trying to get a study from for 64 days.
So I'm going to use a word I haven't used throughout this experience:
Discrimination.
To be clear, I'm not stating that Nextdoor has engaged in unlawful discrimination.
I'm asking whether I'm being treated differently, why, and whether that differential treatment could raise more serious questions.
For weeks, I've considered other explanations.
Maybe Jacob's responsibilities changed.
Maybe Nextdoor stopped publishing these studies.
Maybe Insights was on pause.
Maybe Jacob wasn't the appropriate contact anymore.
Today's publication makes those explanations much harder for me to reconcile.
Nextdoor is publicly saying:
Want detailed research? Contact Jacob Chavis.
Well...
I did.
Sixty-four days ago.
And again.
And again.
I've also contacted Nirav Tolia, Sarah Leary, Investor Relations, Communications, and others.
Still no substantive answer.
So I think it's fair to ask:
Am I specifically being treated differently?
And if I am:
Why?
Is it because I'm publicly critical of Nextdoor?
Because I'm a shareholder asking uncomfortable questions?
Because I've challenged its moderation model?
Because I've questioned leadership?
Has someone internally decided not to engage with me?
Or is there another explanation?
I don't know.
Different treatment doesn't automatically constitute unlawful discrimination. I'm not making that allegation.
But when Nextdoor publicly invites people to contact Jacob for detailed research, while my comparable request has remained unanswered for 64 days, I believe that asking about differential or discriminatory treatment is reasonable.
Let Me Play Devil's Advocate
Someone could look at my emails, posts, tags, comments, and follow-ups and say:
"Niel, maybe they think you're contacting them too much."
Fair question.
I'm persistent. I'm publicly documenting my experience and following up on this.
But persistence and criticism aren't automatically harassment.
I'm not threatening anyone. I'm not advocating violence. I'm not seeking anyone's private information. I'm asking questions about a publicly traded company, its leadership, policies, research, and my experience as a shareholder.
If Nextdoor believes my communications have crossed a boundary, please let me know.
"We're declining your request."
"Direct future inquiries here."
Even:
"We will not engage further."
That's still communication.
Instead, I'm left wondering whether Nextdoor has deliberately decided not to communicate with me.
And I'd ask every business, advertiser, news organization, government agency, and partner working with Nextdoor to consider something:
Today it's me. Could you eventually find yourself on the other side?
What happens when your experience doesn't match the corporate messaging?
What happens when you ask an uncomfortable question?
What happens when your company needs information Nextdoor publicly says is available—and suddenly nobody responds?
Partnerships aren't just about reach, impressions, WAU, and revenue.
They're also about the organization you choose to do business with and how it behaves when the conversation becomes uncomfortable.
So I'll ask Nextdoor directly:
Has Nextdoor decided not to respond specifically to me?
If yes, why?
If no, how does Nextdoor explain 64 days without a response while publicly directing others to Jacob Chavis for detailed research?
Earlier today, I was asking where Jacob was.
Then Nextdoor answered part of that question.
Apparently, he's exactly where I've been told to look all along.
Now I'd like Nextdoor to answer the rest.
Join the discussion at NielFlamm.com/blog. I'd genuinely like to hear your perspective.
Day 64: I’m Not Asking for the C-Suite. I’m Asking for Someone.
It's Day 64.
I sent another email today regarding the study I originally requested from Jacob Chavis.
This time, I want to make something clear:
I don't expect a C-Suite executive to contact me personally.
I'm a shareholder with a relatively small position. I understand that Nirav Tolia, Sarah Leary, and other senior leaders have responsibilities far beyond answering my emails.
But here's what I don't understand:
Why hasn't anyone been delegated to respond?
Sixty-four days.
No study.
No substantive explanation.
No, "We can't provide it."
No, "You've reached the wrong person."
No, "Let me connect you with someone who can help."
Not even, "Niel, the answer is no."
That's what makes this increasingly fascinating to me.
Today I expanded the email distribution list to include Kelsey Grady and Michael Kiernan, along with the people I've previously contacted.
Why?
Reach.
And hopefully, finally, an answer.
At this point, I'm no longer asking only:
Where is the study?
I'm asking:
How does a publicly traded company allow a relatively simple shareholder inquiry to reach Day 64 without assigning someone to handle it?
That's a process question.
That's a communication question.
And, increasingly, I believe it's a culture question.
Someone inside Nextdoor could end this particular chapter with one email.
The answer doesn't have to be what I want.
It doesn't have to come from Nirav.
It doesn't have to come from Sarah.
It doesn't even have to come from Jacob.
I'm asking for someone to respond.
One person.
One email.
One clear answer.
I've spent 64 days documenting what happens when communication doesn't happen.
I'd much rather spend Day 65 writing about what happened when someone finally decided to communicate.
The email has been sent.
Your move, Nextdoor.
Join the discussion at NielFlamm.com/blog. Leave some feedback—I'd genuinely love to hear your perspective.
The Tinder Experiment Is Over. Welcome to The Hinge.
Well, it happened.
The Tinder experiment is officially over.
I deleted my profile. Hopefully.
I say “hopefully” because deleting anything from the internet feels less like destroying evidence and more like politely asking a multinational corporation to maybe stop showing it to people eventually.
But Tinder and I have parted ways.
After the swiping, the matching, the questionable conversations, and the recurring suspicion that I was less likely to find a date than I was to receive an exciting new investment opportunity, I decided it was time.
So naturally, I did the sensible thing.
I joined another dating app.
Welcome to The Hinge.
Yes, I know it's just called Hinge. But “The Hinge” sounds more dramatic, like a nightclub, a medical procedure, or something at Home Depot.
Apparently, Hinge is “designed to be deleted.”
Challenge accepted.
The question is: why will I delete it?
Will I actually meet someone?
Will I get any matches at all?
Will I match with someone, have a perfectly normal conversation, and then hear:
“I don't check this app very often. Do you have WhatsApp?”
🚩🚩🚩
Will someone want to take the conversation offline almost immediately?
Will she suddenly have an incredible business opportunity?
Will cryptocurrency somehow enter the conversation?
Will she own a thriving import/export business that requires absolutely no physical location?
Will we talk for three days and then she mysteriously disappear?
Or—and I realize this is an absolutely insane possibility—will someone actually want to meet me in person?
Coffee.
Dinner.
A movie.
Two human beings occupying the same physical location without anyone trying to sell the other one something.
Imagine that.
I'm going into The Hinge with an open mind. I'm going to swipe—or like, or comment, or whatever terminology we're using over there—and see what happens.
I'm not expecting perfection.
I'm not even expecting normal.
I'm just hoping for an actual human being who wants to have a conversation, laugh a little, eventually meet in person, and doesn't need me to download another messaging app before revealing that her uncle has taught her a proprietary cryptocurrency trading strategy.
The bar is low, people.
Very low.
So begins the next dating experiment.
How long will The Hinge last?
How many matches will I get?
How many will turn into conversations?
How many conversations will turn into actual dates?
And how many will end with me staring at my phone thinking:
“Oh, for God's sake. Not again.”
Only time will tell.
Until then...
Pray with me, Forest.
Pray with me.