Jocelin Ho is a Stanford-trained technologist, product leader, and entrepreneur whose journey spans Silicon Valley’s innovation hubs to the creative heart of Taipei. A former tech lead at Meta and Instagram, she helped build products used by billions before founding Cooby, a Sequoia-backed startup redefining business communication on WhatsApp. Today, at PicCollage, she’s pioneering the next wave of playful, human-centered generative AI experiences. Known for her rare blend of technical depth, emotional intelligence, and design “taste,” Jocelin leads with trust, builds with intention, and reminds the world that technology is most powerful when it stays deeply human.
The Social Digest: Looking back from your early experiences to your current role, what were the pivotal moments or early influences that sparked your passion and led you to your current path? Could you briefly reflect on your journey so far?
Looking back, my journey into tech and leadership has been deeply shaped by both curiosity and conviction. Growing up in Taiwan, I was always drawn to the intersection of creativity and logic—how abstract ideas could be transformed into tangible, meaningful impact through technology. That spark led me to pursue computer science, and eventually to Stanford, where my world expanded significantly. At Stanford, I was immersed in a culture of innovation and big thinking, which ignited my passion for building products that don’t just function, but elevate human experience.
One of the pivotal moments came during my time at Facebook. Being entrusted with core user-facing features—like the Facebook Composer and camera editing tools—gave me a front-row seat to the scale at which thoughtful engineering can shape global behavior. Seeing millions of users interact with tools I had helped build was exhilarating and solidified my belief in technology as a force for connection.
Later, at Instagram, stepping into a tech lead role was another turning point. I led projects like IGTV Ads and Story Ads, managing cross-functional teams and navigating technical complexity while aligning with business outcomes. It was there I began to truly appreciate the craft of technical leadership—not just coding, but shaping vision, inspiring teams, and making strategic trade-offs.
Still, I felt a pull toward something even more entrepreneurial. Founding Cooby was a leap of faith, but one that crystallized my strengths: from building a product from scratch, to scaling a team, to speaking with investors. It tested everything—my resilience, adaptability, and my belief in “trust leadership,” which I’ve come to see as the bedrock of any high-performing team.
Today, at PicCollage, I’m channeling all of these experiences into a new frontier: crafting playful, generative AI experiences in mobile. It’s a convergence of my passions—mobile tech, creativity, infrastructure, and AI. I’m energized not just by what we’re building, but by how we’re building it: transparently, collaboratively, and with an eye toward empowering both users and teammates.
At each stage, the constant thread has been a desire to build with purpose and to lead with trust. I’m excited to keep evolving—and to keep helping others grow as well.
The Social Digest: From Silicon Valley to Sequoia: What spark lit the fire for Cooby? You went from leading teams at tech giants to building your own Sequoia-backed startup. What was the moment — or frustration — that made you say, “I have to build this myself”?
The moment that pushed me to build Cooby wasn’t just a single flash of inspiration—it was a growing frustration I couldn’t ignore. While leading teams at Meta and Instagram, I saw firsthand how powerful communication tools could be when thoughtfully designed. But I also saw how disconnected and fragmented communication had become in the workplace—especially in sales and customer-facing roles where WhatsApp was a dominant channel.
The real tipping point came during conversations with friends and operators in Asia who were running sales teams. They were manually tracking client conversations, missing key follow-ups, and struggling to integrate WhatsApp into their broader workflows. Despite being critical to revenue, this part of their work felt invisible and unstructured.
That’s when it hit me: this wasn’t just a feature request—it was a structural gap in how business communication was evolving. I couldn’t shake the feeling that if no one else was solving it, I had to. I had the technical foundation, the product instincts, and a deep desire to solve a real, painful problem.
Building Cooby was my answer to that frustration. It became more than just a product—it was a statement that the tools we use every day for work should be just as smart, seamless, and empowering as the ones we use for personal communication.
And while leaving the comfort of a tech giant wasn’t easy, the clarity of that need—and the belief that we could build something transformative—made the leap feel inevitable.
The Social Digest: What does a “tasteful” AI product look like to you? You mentioned that the best AI products don’t feel like AI products. Could you expand on what product “taste” means in the age of generative AI — and how tech leaders can cultivate it?
Yes, I firmly believe that the best AI products don’t feel like AI products. They feel natural, intuitive, even magical—not because the AI is front and center, but because it quietly augments the user’s intent without friction. In that sense, product taste in the age of generative AI isn’t about showcasing the model — it’s about understanding when to hide it.
To me, product taste is the ability to discern what feels right to users before the data proves it. It’s a mix of empathy, craftsmanship, and restraint. In traditional product development, that might mean obsessing over latency, or how many steps it takes to complete a task.ChatGPT said:
In AI products, success comes from striking the right balance between user agency and intelligent automation. The system should know when users want to steer the experience and when auto-completion can reduce friction. It must allow some randomness for creativity without tipping into unpredictability that breaks trust. Placement of AI in the product flow is equally critical: it should support, guide, and elevate the user’s goals without ever overwhelming or taking control away from them.
For example, a great generative AI product doesn’t just say “powered by GPT” and throw a text box at you. It understands context, offers suggestions at the right moment, and aligns with your creative or functional goal. It disappears into the experience.
The Social Digest: Cooby focused on transforming how sales teams communicate on WhatsApp. What did you learn about the human side of technology while trying to optimize such organic conversations?
Working on Cooby taught me that technology should bend to human behavior—not the other way around. Sales conversations on WhatsApp are incredibly fluid, nuanced, and deeply personal. They don’t follow rigid structures, and they definitely don’t happen in a tidy CRM interface. So when we set out to build tooling around those interactions, we had to respect the organic nature of how people actually communicate.
One key learning was that context is everything. A single emoji, a voice note, or even a delay in response could carry meaning that no structured field in a database could fully capture. We had to design systems that augmented the human side of communication—things like follow-up reminders, conversation summaries, or message analytics—without ever making the user feel like they were losing authenticity or being surveilled.
I also learned that trust is a prerequisite—especially when dealing with private, high-stakes conversations. Users had to trust that our product wouldn’t expose sensitive data, wouldn’t interrupt their flow, and wouldn’t make them look robotic in front of their clients. That shaped everything from our onboarding to how we surfaced AI-generated suggestions—we focused on helping, not replacing.
Ultimately, building Cooby was a reminder that even in the age of automation and AI, relationships still drive business, and relationships are built through human conversation. Our job was to enhance those conversations—not hijack them.
The Social Digest: You’ve led both in corporate tech and chaotic startup environments. What’s one belief about technical leadership you used to hold — and have now completely unlearned?
One belief I used to hold early in my career—especially in big tech environments—was that technical leadership was mostly about being the smartest person in the room. I thought it meant having all the answers, making the right architectural decisions, and unblocking the team with technical depth alone.
But building Cooby from the ground up—and leading in ambiguity—completely unlearned that mindset for me.
I came to realize that real technical leadership is about creating the conditions for others to do their best thinking, not doing all the thinking yourself. In a startup, you’re constantly operating with imperfect information, limited time, and evolving priorities. In that chaos, clarity, trust, and alignment matter far more than individual brilliance.
I learned to shift from problem-solving mode to problem-framing mode—helping the team understand what we’re solving, why it matters, and what trade-offs we’re willing to make. That shift unlocked more creativity, accountability, and speed across the team.
I also unlearned the instinct to protect people from failure. In corporate settings, it’s tempting to shield the team from risk. But in a startup, I learned to create a safe space for failure, where we could take bold bets, reflect quickly, and grow together. That’s where the real breakthroughs happened.
So today, my belief is this: the best technical leaders don’t scale themselves—they scale the team. They don’t seek control; they build trust. And they’re less concerned with being right than with building the kind of environment where the right ideas can emerge.
The Social Digest: You once described leaving your startup as one of the hardest decisions of your life. How did you know it was time to choose personal clarity over professional attachment, and what advice would you give to others stuck in similar emotional crossroads?
Leaving my startup was one of the hardest, most soul-wrenching decisions I’ve ever made. Cooby wasn’t just something I built — it was something I lived. But over time, I came to realize a truth I didn’t want to face: the deep misalignment in values between me and my co-founder had fundamentally damaged our relationship and, in turn, deeply hurt me. That misalignment made it nearly impossible for me to show up as my full self. I no longer felt seen, respected, or safe — and for someone who leads with trust and authenticity, that was devastating.
I tried everything — for years. I adjusted, communicated, reflected, and kept hoping things would improve. But the longer I stayed, the more I lost touch with my energy, my confidence, and eventually, even my health. I was operating in survival mode, suppressing who I was just to get through each day. And that’s when it hit me: a space where I can’t be myself is not a space where I can lead.
The actual decision didn’t come during a strategy session or investor meeting. It came quietly, during a late-night heart-to-heart with founder friends. Their gentle questions helped me see what I already knew deep down — I had to let go. I broke down crying, but in that moment, I also felt something I hadn’t felt in years: clarity.
If you are at an emotional crossroads, treat misalignment as data rather than defeat: if your environment is crushing your spirit, the mission is not worth the price. You deserve a place where your values are genuinely shared, not barely tolerated. Choosing yourself is not selfish; it is a non-negotiable requirement for sustaining creativity, care, and leadership without sacrificing dignity or mental health. The hardest part is admitting you already know the truth, so rely on trusted voices, trust your own instincts, and protect your peace before the situation writes your story for you.
The Social Digest: You’re exploring roles globally while staying grounded in Taipei. How does your identity — as a Taiwanese technologist with Silicon Valley roots — shape the kind of problems you’re passionate about solving?
Being a Taiwanese technologist with Silicon Valley roots gives me a deeply layered perspective—one that’s both global in vision and local in empathy. I often feel like I’m standing at the intersection of two worlds: the precision and pragmatism of Taiwan, and the boldness and scale-driven thinking of Silicon Valley. That blend has shaped not just how I work, but what I care about building.
Growing up in Taiwan instilled in me a deep respect for relationships, humility, and craftsmanship. There’s a quiet discipline in how things are built here—an attention to detail, a sense of responsibility to others. Later, moving to the U.S. for my Master’s at Stanford and working at Meta and Instagram exposed me to a radically different mindset—one that values experimentation, speed, and asking “why not?” instead of “can we?” That experience taught me to think beyond constraints and believe in the power of audacity.
Now that I’ve returned to Taipei, I see immense potential in bridging these two cultures—technically, creatively, and humanly. I’m especially drawn to problems that amplify creative expression, empower underrepresented users, or localize global technologies with cultural nuance. I want to build products that aren’t just scalable, but relatable. Products that feel intuitive whether you’re in Taipei, Tokyo, or Toronto.
My background also makes me sensitive to issues of inclusion and accessibility. Having worked in both English-dominant and Mandarin-first environments, I care deeply about building tech that respects linguistic and cultural context—especially in regions where global tools often overlook local needs.
At the heart of it, I want to create things that honor both where I’m from and where I’ve been. I believe some of the most interesting innovation will happen in the crossroads—between east and west, startup and scale, logic and emotion. That’s where I feel most energized. That’s where I want to build.
The Social Digest: If you could design your own “Founders Compass,” what would its 3 core values be?
What internal truths do you return to again and again — whether you’re writing code, leading a team, or choosing your next big move?
If I could design my own Founder’s Compass, it would be anchored in three core values.
First, Trust First. Not just earned, extended. I believe great teams and great products are born from environments where people feel safe to be real, to fail, and to speak up. Trust isn’t a soft value, it’s the infrastructure for velocity, ownership, and innovation. I lead with trust because I want people to bring their whole selves, not just their output.
Second, Build with Intention. Speed is important, but clarity of intent is what separates noise from progress. Whether it’s writing code, designing an interface, or choosing a market to enter, I always ask: What are we really trying to say? Who are we trying to serve? Products should be opinionated, not bloated. Teams should be aligned, not just busy.
Finally, Stay Human. At the end of the day, startups are made of people, not slides, code, or metrics. I value relationships, emotional honesty, and cultures that embrace imperfection. I’ve learned the hard way that when you lose your humanity in pursuit of success, you lose everything. Empathy isn’t a “nice to have,” it’s the foundation of resilience.
These three principles guide how I build, lead, and show up every day as a founder.
The Social Digest: What’s something no LinkedIn profile, no CV, and no pitch deck could ever capture about who you are as a builder or leader?
No LinkedIn profile, CV, or pitch deck can fully capture how deeply I care.
What you won’t see on paper is the weight I carry—not just for the product, but for the people. How I lose sleep not over bugs, but over whether someone on my team feels unseen. How I spend hours reworking a roadmap, not because it’s wrong technically, but because it doesn’t feel right emotionally for where the team is. How I’ll rewrite the same onboarding doc ten times—not for perfection, but because I want the next person to feel instantly belonging.
You also won’t see the quiet resilience I’ve built. The emotional labor of being a founder and still showing up with compassion. The days I felt broken but still rallied the team. The times I chose to listen instead of speak, to walk away instead of escalate, to protect the team even when it cost me personally.
What defines me most as a builder and leader isn’t the velocity of my output or the names in my work history—it’s the intention behind everything I touch. I don’t just want to build scalable systems—I want to build environments where people feel safe enough to do their boldest, weirdest, most meaningful work.
So no, a resume won’t tell you that I lead with my heart as much as my head. But ask anyone I’ve built with—and they’ll tell you.
The Social Digest: What advice would you like to give for the personal & professional growth to all emerging entrepreneurs?
If I could offer one piece of advice to emerging entrepreneurs—especially those just stepping into the intensity of building something from scratch—it would be this: Don’t lose yourself while trying to prove yourself.
Startups will stretch you to your edge. They’ll demand every skill, every ounce of grit, and more patience than you thought you had. You’ll wear a dozen hats, face impossible trade-offs, and feel like you’re simultaneously building the rocket and laying the runway. That’s normal. But through it all, don’t forget who you are and why you started.
Your clarity, your integrity, your values—those are your greatest assets, not your metrics.
This interview was conducted by Ansh C Vachhani, The Social Digest on 18/10/2025. If you have any interview recommendations or have a story that you want to share with our readers, get in touch with our editor Vedant Bhrambhatt, at editor@thesocialdigest.com
