Founders Never Forget

It’s been nearly 15 years since I cofounded DataHero, while at a bed-and-breakfast in Tuscany (a story for another day). All these year later, certain memories are seared into my being:

There was the tense, late night conversation in a dark parking lot in Palo Alto as we debated the equity split between the founders. The excitement of our first day in a “real office” (in reality, a handful of unused desks that we rented from AOL). The anxiety and uncertainty of turning down the first term sheet we received because we felt the terms were unfair. And the thrill of seeing the first dollar of revenue hit our bank account (deposited via check, because we hadn’t yet implemented online payments).

More than anything else, I remember how we were treated by investors. To this day, I viscerally remember each and every investor encounter I had. All founders do.

 
 

Some of the investors who helped me the most were ones who, for a variety of reasons, never ended up on our cap table. There was Josh Kopelman, who spent hours with me over the course of several months thinking through the market opportunity for cloud-based BI and what applications could be “venture scale”. Or Doug Leone, who brought together members of the Sequoia team to work through the thought exercise of whether or not a SaaS business model could be applied to enterprise data software (it had never been tried before). There were folks like Kent Goldman, Mike Dauber, Aaref Hilaly, Stephanie Palmeri, Villi Iltchev and Karan Mehandru, each of whom spent time with me long before we raised a dollar of funding and shared their thoughts on go-to-market, the early landscape of SaaS providers and other aspects big and small of an entirely new approach to data analytics.

None of these VCs remember our interactions nearly as vividly as I do. In fact, some don’t remember them at all (I’ve asked!). But I remember each of these investors, their generosity of time, and the fact that they showed up focused, open-minded and genuine. And sure, they were each undoubtedly hoping for an investment down the road. But even after that ship had sailed, every single one of them continued to make themselves available. They genuinely wanted us to succeed.


And then there were the others…

There was [redacted], who couldn’t be bothered to look up from his phone when we pitched him. Or [redacted], who scheduled a meeting with me to “catch up”, showed up 15 minutes late and then asked arrogantly who I was and why were we meeting. There was [redacted], [redacted], and [redacted], each of whom declared — in their own snide, condescending way — that what we were doing would never work (while clearly having neither prepared for the meeting nor listened to what we were saying). And, of course, [redacted], who over the course of an hour asked pointed, incredibly well-informed questions, only to admit at the end of our meeting that he had already made an unannounced investment into a competitor.

 
 

Every meeting that I had with a VC informed not only my perspective of that individual, but of the firm they worked for. It informed the likelihood that I re-engaged with their firm for subsequent rounds. It informed what I told other founders when they asked about my experiences fundraising.

A decade later, those experiences — both good and bad — informed how I chose to enter the world of venture capital.

Most significantly, they informed the way that I try to show up for the founders each and every day.

 
 

My partner, Pat Lor, frequently reminds the team at Panache of the importance of bringing our full selves to every interaction we have with founders. Whether it’s a pitch meeting, a panel, or a chance encounter on the sidelines of a conference, every conversation we have with a founder leaves a lasting impression that reflects not only on ourselves, but on the firm as a whole.

Pat is adamant that the entire Panache team needs to come correct every time we interact with founders. No matter when, where or why.

He too remembers each and every one of his investor encounters.

 

Pat (center) on a recent panel at Creative Destruction Lab

 

Recently, I was reminded that not every investor shares this view.

A few weeks back, I had the privilege of joining a virtual investor panel. For the founders participating in the Zoom call, this was an important moment. They were eager to listen to what we had to say and came prepared with thoughtful, pointed questions. The moderator led a wide-ranging and engaging discussion amongst the VCs.

Well…almost all of the VCs.

Within a few minutes, it became glaringly obvious that one of the panelists wasn’t bringing his full and focused self to the session. Beyond his obviously bored facial expressions, this particular investor’s dual-monitor setup gave away his propensity to multitask, as he visibly turned his head away from the camera every time he finished speaking. He was clearly a big important person who had big important things to do.

 
 

I began watching the faces of the founders on the call. Each person was eager, engaged and smiling, except when this particular investor spoke. Each time he chimed in (often with a rambling comment that belied the fact that he only a half-heard the question), their smiles almost uniformly turned to frowns. Their body language became closed. Their feelings were clear: this VC — this person — doesn’t respect me.


My point in writing this post is not to call out another investor. Nor am I trying to stand on a soapbox and pretend like I’m perfect.

I’m writing this post as a reminder to myself and to other investors of the importance of showing up. We are incredibly privileged to do what we do, and we owe it to founders to bring our full and focused selves to every encounter. Every founder we meet is trying to create something out of nothing. To use their time, energy and resources to quite literally change the world.

That deserves our respect and our attention.

I also write this for founders as a reminder that you have the real power. Founders can build businesses without investors. Without founders? Investors are nothing. You have agency over who you choose to work with. Use it.

As an investor, I try my best to always bring my full, focused self whenever I meet founders. I hope that you’ll hold me accountable for that — if you ever meet me and feel that I wasn't fully present, please let me know.

Because I was once a founder. And I know that founders never forget.

 

“People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

- Maya Angelou