About

About

I work with institutions and their leaders across four areas: private equity, institutional AI, executive coaching, and human flourishing.

Housed at the Doden Legacy Office, I lead Institutional AI development and ecosystem integration at Ambassador Enterprises, a steward-owned PE firm with 70+ portfolio companies. My responsibilities span investment opportunity vetting and due diligence, AI innovation and integration, policy development, and consulting with partner organizations. The flagship is a proprietary Institutional AI I conceived, designed, and built — pioneering work that trains on decades of the firm's accumulated best practices to support leadership development, mission alignment, and decision-making across the ecosystem.

Across this work, I've advised firms, foundations, and NGOs at the intersection of mission and margin — strengthening institutional integrity while scaling both impact and income.

I co-developed the Flourishing Performance Indicators™ — the scientific framework behind FlorOS.ai, the world's first living intelligence for human flourishing. The Industrial Age measured output. The Digital Age measured engagement. The era ahead measures flourishing at every scale, from the individual to the institution to the nation. FPIs are the instrument that makes it possible.

I've delivered talks at TEDx Princeton, Harvard, Yale, Oxford, Brown, and the Harvard Flourishing at Work Summit.

PhD, University of Cambridge (Wolfson College). Entrepreneurship coach at Wolfson College, Cambridge. Previously directed a leadership center at Yale. Certificates in Leadership & Performance Coaching from Brown University and Private Equity from the Wharton School. Recognized by the U.S. government as a person of national interest and extraordinary ability.

Polymath

I was eighteen. Lower-class. From a city no one leaves. No connections. No context. No clear path forward. Just an unsettled heart and a hunger I couldn't name, except that I expected more of myself than my circumstances suggested I should.

So I left. Chased learning across borders. Landed, eventually, at Cambridge, the year it was ranked number one in the world. I arrived thinking, I know so much. I left thinking, I know enough to know that what I know is nothing. That epiphany didn't humble me into silence. It upgraded my map of reality. I stopped trying to master one field and started listening to all of them —philosophy, economics, neuroscience, computer science, psychology, business, theology, science, art. Not to collect knowledge, but to connect it.

That's what a polymath does. Not refusing to specialize, but refusing to be siloed. Seeing the threads between disciplines that are usually kept apart.

The center of your world can get bigger. Big enough to shape other worlds. And it doesn't matter where you start.

Speaker 

The through-line is simple: I go where the room needs language for what it's living. Artificial intelligence at Princeton. Sex trafficking in Málaga. Neo-Platonism at All Souls College, Oxford. Identity with undergraduates at Harvard. What freedom actually means with the incarcerated men of the Louisiana State Penitentiary, known as America's bloodiest prison. The subject changes. The posture doesn't.

I believe the universe is interconnected — that science is incomplete without art, and art is incomplete without science. Every discipline is a dialect of the same language. My job on stage is translation: weaving threads from computer science, philosophy, neuroscience, and business into something an audience can feel as well as hear.

When I step onto a stage, I'm not speaking to an audience. I'm speaking for them — giving voice to what they already sense but haven't yet named. The message underneath every talk is the same: you can love, lead, and live better. 

Beniamin 

My name is Beniamin. In Hebrew, it means "son of the right hand" — the one who stands beside the king. I used to wonder why parents do this. Why burden a child with a name that big? Now I understand. A name like that is not a prediction. It's a summons. A reminder that we are accountable to a greatness before and beyond ourselves.

But how could someone like me live up to it? My father survived a Communist labor camp — and emerged believing that adversity could be turned into ambition, iron into gold. He used to tell me: the extraordinary is simply the ordinary with a better heart.

I am a novus homo — Latin for the first in a family to rise to significance. Forged from nothing. No inheritance but character. And character, I've learned, is everything. It's what testifies for you when you're not in the room.

But character doesn't guarantee glory. It guarantees something stranger: a different way of seeing. It whispers the odd principle to consider others as better than yourself, to spend your influence on their becoming, to love them as you're still learning to love yourself, to make their flourishing your measure of success.

Character doesn't climb for the view. It climbs to see more clearly — and to serve what it sees. This is what it means to be a novus homo. To rise from nothing. To keep rising — not toward status, but toward sight. Not to grasp, but to give. To look at another human being and see potential they haven't claimed yet. And to help them claim it.

And if a name can be a summons, so can a life: to stand beside what is good, and spend our strength helping others rise.