I’ve always believed Ben Franklin to be the original American badass.
He was a prolific tinkerer, civic philosopher, colonial media mogul, political satirist, enlightenment polymath, scientific provocateur, practical inventor, and restless entrepreneur—
And I would personally argue that Philadelphia’s favorite Founding Father is the architect of our American identity.

This picture is the best use case for AI-generated content. I think Mr. Franklin would approve.
Ben Franklin is at the top of my “historical figure dinner party list”, so I was stunned a few weeks ago when I learned, for the first time, that he had his own secret social club.
Don’t know if they ate dinner — but they definitely drank.
🍻 THE DRUNK BUSINESS ADVICE
👉 Small, diverse groups of talented and curious people are killer at getting meaningful shit done. They can uplift themselves, each other, and an entire city.
And now — the story behind why this advice matters. 👇
Franklin would be pissed
Back in December, I moved from New York City to Philadelphia, and I use the world “literally” in the most –a-hem– literal sense when I say this:
Literally everyone I speak with asks me how I’m enjoying Philly, and how it compares to life in NYC.
The honest answer is that I absolutely love Philly so far. The culture, the history, the food, the arts scene, the sports, the affordability, the walkability, the proximity to other vibrant places… There is so much cool shit to love about my new home.
But I do have one complaint.
On any given evening in New York, I could easily find a curated room of talented and ambitious people with whom to share a drink, a meal, a laugh, and an inspiring conversation. NYC is brimming with an endless supply of industry clubs and business events.
This isn’t the case in the City of Brotherly Love.
One of the first things I did after unpacking a mountain of boxes (god moving sucks) was hop on the internet to search for some local business events. I wanted to get out in my new community and start meeting people.
But I only found two that looked… well… tolerable:
A dinner for women in media, which got cancelled.
A networking night at a nearby bar, which turned out to just be a bunch of residential mortgage brokers running around the room handing out business cards.
The rest of the events I found ranged from “just plain cringy” to “well this is obviously a scam” — like these events, all hosted by the same “education company”:

Source: Eventbrite
Side note — you might be wondering how I know this is a scam. Well, if the quantity and price of the listings on Eventbrite weren’t enough of a red flag, a quick click over to their website revealed a deluge of stolen photos, fake reviews, and bullshit credentials. 👇

Forgive my ignorance, but that “expert trainer” named Sarah really doesn’t look like Sarah to me. If you’re gonna scam, at least be good at it. This is just pathetic.
Honestly? Ben Franklin would be pissed.
Thanks Ethan
A few weeks ago, I was catching up with my dear friend Ethan Brooks (who publishes Austin Business Review if any of y’all are local to that area), and lamenting over how I haven’t yet found a strong community of business thinkers here in Philly.
I told him that this city is amazing, and I’m positive there is incredible talent here, but I feel like I’m going to have to start up a group because I can’t find anything to join.
Ethan: “Start a Junto.”
Kristin: “What?”
Ethan: “A Junto. You can make a Junto.”
Kristin: “Are you having a stroke?”
Ethan: “A Junto. Like Ben Franklin. You should start one.”
Kristin: “I’m sending an ambulance to your house…”
Ethan went on to clarify that he was not having a stroke, and that a “Junto” was an 18th century mastermind group, founded in 1727 by my favorite dude, Ben Franklin. This thing was a civic incubator, reading circle, business network, debate club, and self-improvement society all rolled into one.
Franklin described it as a “club of mutual improvement”.
And the weird name? It’s derived from the Latin word “jungere”, meaning “to join.” The etymological undertone of the title means “people joined together for a shared purpose”.
But here’s the coolest thing about Ben Franklin’s Junto: while the group shared a purpose (and a city), they did not share a background. Unlike most social or civic clubs of the time, the members weren’t all aristocrats or university men. They were largely businessmen, artisans, and self-taught scientists and philosophers.
It was a small group of diverse badasses who met every Friday evening to discuss ethics, civic life, business, science, and practical knowledge.
Yessssssss! Thank you, Ethan.
I shall start a Junto.
What made the Junto work?
As I began researching this historic group, it quickly became apparent why the Junto worked so well.
The group incubated some of the most important civic projects ever established, dramatically improving life for residents of the city of Philadelphia, and the (then) British colonies in America. The Library Company of Philadelphia, the American Philosophical Society, and even the University of Pennsylvania are all traced back to the Junto.
That shit doesn’t happen if you just get together casually for a beer and a chit-chat.
Instead, the Junto had serious rules. Joining the group required a commitment to learning, to sharing what you’ve learned, and most importantly, to not being an asshole.
From Ben Franklin’s Autobiography:
“The rules that I drew up required that every member, in his turn, should produce one or more queries on any point of Morals, Politics, or Natural Philosophy, to be discuss’d by the company; and once in three months produce and read an essay of his own writing on any subject he pleased. Our debates were to be under the direction of a president and to be conducted in the sincere spirit of inquiry after truth, without fondness for dispute, or desire of victory; and, to prevent heatedness, all expressions of positiveness in opinions, or direct contradiction, were after some time made contraband and prohibited under small pecuniary fines.”
So everyone had homework. It was their job to educate, inspire, and uplift each other and their city. And if they didn’t abide by these standards, they owed Franklin a fistful of cash.

Source: Giphy
(In reality, paper money was not yet realized in those years, but the idea for paper money did come out of the Junto!)
In addition to the homework and presentation of member-written essays, Junto meetings were structured by a series of 24 questions designed to productively guide the group’s conversation.
But this doesn’t mean they didn’t have a raucously good time.
While on an extended stay in London as a colonial agent representing Pennsylvania 1761, Franklin wrote to his pal and fellow Junto member Hugh Roberts:
“I find I love Company, Chat, a Laugh, a Glass, and even a Song, as well as ever…I therefore hope the Junto will not be discontinu’d as long as we are able to crawl together.”
Alas, without Ben Franklin’s leadership, the Junto did eventually fizzle. He was the glue.
The tale of a modern Junto
As I explore starting a modern Junto here in its birthplace of Philadelphia, I need to be realistic about what’s feasible.
Ben Franklin limited the number of members to 12, which I think is a good cap. This enables meaningful participation by each member. And remaining true to the spirit of the diverse Junto that Franklin assembled, I plan to seek out members across business, government, academia, science, and the arts. No two members shall share the same vocation.
The other major adoption from Franklin’s Junto is that all members will actively engage in thought leadership by writing essays to be shared with the group.
Y’all — writing is thinking. Taking your expertise, or learning something new, and distilling it into an essay to teach others is the most pure form of “mutual improvement”, the core value of the Junto. So Franklin definitely got that part right.
And I hope it goes without saying that Franklin’s Junto didn’t meet on Zoom — they met at a tavern and later in a private home. So I’m definitely planning to keep the IRL tradition alive.
(Plus, it’s really hard to clink glasses over the internet.)

Cheers! Source: Giphy
But here’s where I’m going to need to put a modern spin on things:
Meeting once a week is a big ask — especially if I want members to take attendance seriously. Once every fortnight feels doable, with only a limited number of absences permitted per year.
And the original 24 questions which ran the meeting are a tad outdated. I’m noodling on these 12 revised questions right now:
What have you recently changed your mind about, and why?
What are you reading, watching, or listening to that is worth sharing with this group?
What is happening locally that deserves more attention?
Who is doing excellent work that others should know about?
Who needs help, encouragement, advice, visibility, funding, or an introduction?
What is one example of good judgment you observed recently?
What is one example of bad incentives or institutional failure you observed recently?
What technology, policy, or cultural shift is changing behavior in ways we should discuss?
Who is being overlooked, underestimated, or poorly served?
What local institution, public space, business, nonprofit, or project deserves support?
What is one question you are wrestling with personally or professionally?
What is one useful action this group could take before the next meeting?
You heard it here first, folks.
If you live in Philadelphia, and are interested in joining this Junto, let’s talk. If you’re keen to start a Junto in your town, let’s share notes.
And if you think this whole thing is a shitty idea —that I’ve got it all wrong and I’m desecrating the memory of a great American— tell me why. Because I really want this thing to work.
And blame Ethan for giving me the idea.
Cheers! 🍻
-Kristin :-)
P.S. — I don’t just write Drunk Business Advice — I bring it to life on stage. And I’d love to speak at your next event. Hit reply or click here to learn more.



