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While I have never before used VentureBlog to discuss anything other than entrepreneurship and venture capital, I have decided to make an exception to discuss why it is I oppose Proposition 8 here in California. I have not made this decision lightly. I don't believe in mixing business and politics. But I believe that Proposition 8 runs sufficiently counter to the basic tenets of fairness and human decency that power our democracy that I can not sit idly by.
I was not yet born when Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his famous "I Have a Dream" speech at the March on Washington in 1963. Had I been alive, however, I like to think that I would have been there cheering him on. I like to think that I would have stood against segregation and done everything in my power to dismantle that unjust system. I like to think that I would have put my legal background to work defeating those laws that made interracial marriage illegal. I like to think that I would have joined the picket lines, sat at the lunch counters, sued the school systems . . . done whatever I could to fight the injustice of segregation.
Today I think that Californians are at a similar crossroads. Like the courts that invalidated Jim Crow laws and segregation a half century ago, the California Supreme Court has determined that the State may not discriminate between heterosexual couples and same sex couples -- accordingly, the State Constitution requires that same sex couples be given the right to marry. In response to that ruling, thousands of same sex couples -- many of whom had been in monogamous relationships for decades -- rushed to get married. And, yet, those marriages are now in danger of being invalidated. That is just wrong.
A little over a month ago I attended the wedding of my good friends Ali and Laura. I came to know Ali and Laura as the moms of one of my son's school friends. Ali and Laura are smart, successful, caring women who, above all else, are wonderful mothers. Their sons are growing up in a stable and loving home. Yet, until this year, Ali and Laura could not contemplate getting married. Their wedding ceremony was as much a celebration of their love for each other and their powerful committed relationship, as it was the validation of their family unit. At the wedding, my son's friends celebrated the fact that they could have married parents just like the other kids in their school. It was truly a joyous day.
Yet, Proposition 8 seeks to take away that right. Not only would Proposition 8 strip Ali and Laura, and thousands of other committed gay couples like them, of their right to marry, it would strip their sons of their right to have married parents. Should we amend the State Constitution to not only take away Ali and Laura's rights, but also the rights of their sons? And if Laura and Ali can be stripped of their right to wed, why not also my brother and sister in law, who are of different races? Should they fear that their rights are the next to be stripped away? Should my niece be concerned that the citizens of California may deem her unworthy of having married parents as well?
To my mind, voting NO on Proposition 8 is very simply an issue of fairness. Proposition 8 seeks to amend the Constitution to take away the rights of same sex couples -- the very same rights that heterosexual couples have always had. That is not equality. All of my children, gay or straight, should have the opportunity to marry the person they love. Anything shy of that simply does not reflect the ideals upon which this country has been built. So I urge you to vote NO on Proposition 8 this coming Tuesday. Ali and Laura's sons deserve to have happily married parents. Who are we to take that away from them?
I just flew back from Europe and boy are my arms tired [insert rimshot here]. Actually, I just flew back from Europe and boy are my eyes tired. I have this bad habit of accumulating magazines until I have a long plane flight then powering through 30 pounds worth of reading.
My typical airplane reading starts out with a zillion of those alumni magazines we all get. If you can wade your way past the inevitable articles on anthropology, sociology and pop psychology, you can often get a first glimpse into some really interesting scientific and technical innovation in these magazines. I'm tempted to go get a masters degree in anything from Carnegie Mellon just so I can get their alumni magazine.
But the magazine I probably spend my most time reading, en route to wherever, is Wired. It is such a great combination of entertainment, info-porn, and deep dives into things that really matter. This trip I had managed to accumulate 5 months worth of Wired's -- good thing I was flying to Europe, there's no way I would have gotten through them by Denver or Chicago. (The other great thing about reading your way through so many accumulated magazines is that it is a little bit like eating your provisions on a long hiking trip -- my load gets noticeably lighter with each magazine I've finished and discarded in the seat back pocket in front of me.) While I don't always act on it, I often times find myself reading something in Wired on which I want to blog. I'll rip out the pages and then forget about them or just never find the time to write. But not this time. This time I'm going to remedy that by writing this post on the plane flight back home. Right now (Jeesh, I'm three paragraphs into the post and I haven't really written about anything yet -- my apologies to those of you who are looking for pithy commentary on technology and the venture community -- I seem less and less capable of pithy these days).
How to score venture capital.
August's issue of Wired this year was the "How To" issue. How to stop a fight. How to crash a party. How to twitter an event you're not even at. . . . One of Wired's how to's was "How to score venture capital." Now there's a topic near and dear to my heart. So I read on with great anticipation and discovered that whoever wrote this did not, in fact, know how to score venture capital -- at least not from me. So here is Wired's advice with my commentary.
1. "HAVE AN IDEA. We'd say it has to be good, but many Web startups demonstrate otherwise."
Despite Wired's snark about Web startups, there is a reasonable point in here. It is true that you need to have an idea -- you've got to build something and, eventually, you even have to sell something. But "good" is in the eye of the beholder. I think you would be hard pressed to find a single startup that managed to get a term sheet from every VC they pitched. One VC's next Google is another's wasted hour. That doesn't mean one idea is good and the other is bad. It just means that venture capital is still more art than science. Trying to pick winners is what we do for a living and some of us are better at it than others.
2. "STICK WITH what you know. If you've spent the past few years building MySpace plug-ins, don't propose launching a chain of bowling alleys."
On the one hand, it is true that VCs love the idea of "domain expertise." On the other hand, it is silly to say that you need to stick to only what you know. What if there isn't a business to be built from MySpace Plug-Ins? Are you doomed to never create an interesting startup just because that's what you know? Look at Joshua Schacter. What did Joshua know before creating Delicious? He knew how to build huge scale, high performance, enterprise applications for the financial services sector. Does that mean the VCs were foolish to invest in Delicious? Should they have urged him to start an enterprise software company? VCs love passion and energy more than expertise. I probably wouldn't fund Joshua to create the next generation nuclear power plant. Then again, he's a really smart guy -- if he spent enough time getting himself familiar with the space and thinking differently about the problem, you never know.
3. "SPEND an inordinate amount of time crafting your business plan's executive summary. It's the first thing VCs read -- and the last if it's poorly written or long-winded."
The two things that I look at when first getting up to speed on a company are either an executive summary or a PowerPoint. So it is certainly the case that you would be well served by a concise and compelling executive summary. On the other hand, you may well want to stop there. A full blown business plan is rarely necessary to raise venture capital. VCs tend not to read business plans because a) they are too long and b) your business will likely have changed by the time anyone gets around to reading your business plan So focus on the things that matter -- understanding your competition, building great products, innovating on your business model, etc.
4. "SEARCH FOR VC firms that have recently funded startups similar to yours. Then hit those firms' Web sites, where they'll likely have instructions for submitting business plans. Don't worry -- the best do actually mine their slush pile."
If Wired's advice falls on a spectrum from "sort of right" to "way off the money," this one is deep in "way off the money" territory. It doesn't start off terribly wrong. You should definitely do a lot of research on the VCs that you will approach for funding. And the ones who have funded related businesses in the past are potentially good targets for your business as well. But not always. Imagine you are building a gaming startup. Some VCs who have invested in the gaming space may be signaling to you that they are excited about the gaming sector and would be happy to fund other gaming companies in the future. Other VCs may feel that they have made their bet in the gaming space and will be hard pressed to invest in another gaming company. So previous investment can be a double-edged sword.
The place where this advice goes far afield is the suggestion that you should go to a Web site, find instructions on how to submit a business plan, and "drop it in the mail." Wired claims that "the best" VCs actually look at unsolicited business plans. It may be true that many venture capital firms look at unsolicited business plans. But rest assured that it isn't Mike Moritz or Dave Marquardt or John Dooer reading these plans -- it is the most junior person at the firm. More importantly, the way to get your executive summary read is to have it passed on to a VC by someone he or she trusts. This is a referral business. Your credibility as an entrepreneur will be bolstered by the credibility of those individuals who vouch for you. So rather than spending time writing a business plan, go spend time pitching your business to technology influencers who can help you build a business and can introduce you to the right people to fund your business. My advice would be to never ever submit a business plan through a Web site -- if you can't get it directly to the person who you want to read it, don't bother.
5. "ONCE INVITED to present your plan, remember that brevity is a virtue: Use no more than 30 PowerPoint slides, and keep your presentation under 45 minutes."
Yikes. 30 slides. Unless you are Lawrence Lessig, I don't think the words "30 slides" and "brevity" can possibly be used in the same sentence. I completely agree that you should aim to keep your presentation to about 45 minutes. If a VC gets excited about what you're working on, they'll spend more time with you in future meetings. But, as with entertainment, you are way better off leaving them begging for more. Get in. Pitch. Get out. There is no way that should take anywhere near 30 slides. I've blogged here before about the 6 -- yes, 6 -- slides you need to pitch your business. Even if you feel that 6 slides is too spartan, don't confuse quantity for quality. The fewer the slides and the more discussion the better.
6. "KNOW EXACTLY how much cash you need."
They waited until the final piece of advice to nail it. I just wrote a whole post about this. Don't just ask for a specific amount of money, explain precisely what it is you intend to do with that money and why it is the right amount of money. This should be the last slide of your PowerPoint presentation and is your chance to summarize the strengths of your company: you're building something important; you understand the competitive pressures and how they impact how much money your are raising and how quickly you are spending it; you have the right team to build it (or know where to find the right people to add to the team); and you can make meaningful progress on the very reasonable amount of money you are seeking to raise.
Those of you who are still reading have incredible endurance and I appreciate that. My apologies for further testing that endurance. (But have no fear, there will be no pop quiz at the end.)
How to get a plug on TechCrunch.
In the very same issue of Wired, there is a blurb on "How to get a plug on TechCrunch." The thing that I think is interesting about Wired's advice for enticing Mike Arrington into writing about you, is that it is better advice on how to get funded by a VC than Wired's missive directly on that topic. It isn't perfect advice for either getting VC money or getting written up in TechCrunch, but it makes some reasonable points.
1. "Casually mention you hold the women's record for javelin in Tajikistan. People (especially women and minorities) with unusual backgrounds pique his interest -- maybe enough to propel him past paragraph one."
The simple fact is that both Mike and the typical VC get pitched on a lot of businesses in any given year. So anything you can do to stand out is helpful. Maybe I shouldn't say "anything." There are all sorts of ways that you can stand out in a bad way. But if there are things that you have done that are both interesting and demonstrate major commitment to achieving a crazy goal, they will help get you noticed and give you a certain amount of credibility as a go-getter (you'd be surprised how many successful entrepreneurs are triathletes or have climbed Mt. Everest).
2. "Cozy up to his friends. Comment on their blogs. Meet them at industry events. An introduction from someone he trusts wins you a few extra seconds."
This is the best advice by far. But it sounds far more cynical than it really is. Don't confuse Wired's advice about "cozying up" to mean that you should suck up to Mike and his friends. VCs and journalists alike hate suck ups. But, as I said above, getting to know the right people who can help you build your business is essential to your success. That isn't "cozying up" in some cynical sense. It is about convincing other smart people that what you are building is meaningful and that they want to be involved in that success. Those people will then sing your praises to Mike and the VC community -- not because they're your buddy, but because they believe in what you are building.
3. "Get a pro to write your pitch. Arrington hearts good writing and catching intros. Sometimes all it takes is one great sentence."
Who doesn't like good writing? So much about building a startup is selling your vision. The better you are at doing that in person and on paper, the more likely you'll be successful. But don't trade your ability to articulate your vision for the ability of a professional scribe to do so. If you can't pitch your own business anywhere, any time, any how, you will not succeed.
4. "Minimize the chitchat. 'it's not like we're going to be BFF,' [Mike] says, 'Just get to the point.'"
This is where Mike and I may differ. Mike is going to talk with you long enough to understand what you're building so that he can write in an informed way about your business. But that's about it. He doesn't need to be your BFF. On the other hand, if a VC funds you, he or she could be working with you for the next decade and beyond (My partner Dave has been on the Microsoft board for 25 years -- after that much time, Gates is legitimately one of his BFFs). So the "chit chat" is important. We don't need to be your BFFs, but we do need to feel that we can have a great working relationship with you for many years to come.
5. "Then back off. If he doesn't respond, don't 'check in' again and again. He's just not that into you. Come back when you have a better idea."
This one is a delicate balance. I agree that Mike doesn't want to be bugged by an entrepreneur when he decides not to write about that business. The same is true to a point with the venture community. "No" really does mean "no" when a VC passes on investing in your company. And arguing the point will do you little good. On a number of occasions, I have passed on investing in a company only to get an angry response from the entrepreneur explaining to me why I was wrong to do so. Even if the entrepreneur is correct, that tactic will not likely get him or her funded. On the other hand, there are two sorts of "No's" in the VC community -- there is the "no, I am not interested in investing in your company" and there is the "no, I am not interested in investing in your company." I will often say that I am not interested in investing in a company because of X, Y or Z, but if they make progress on any of those fronts, I'd love to hear the story again. When I hear back from those entrepreneurs it is very much welcomed. In fact, on more than one occasion, I have passed on the company in the first instance, only to give them a term sheet at a later date. So don't make a pest of yourself, but don't be sheepish about being persistent when the door is left open.
Well, I guess I've come to the end of this unruly post. Thanks for slogging through it. I hope it's useful. And I hope I haven't crossed the "fair use" line with Wired. I really have tried to use no more of their original article than necessary for my commentary (you worry about these things when you teach IP Law). Thanks to Wired for occupying my long plane flight and giving me such useful food for thought. I look forward to my next journey when I can again catch up on my magazine reading.
(Pop Quiz! Ok, I know I said there wouldn't be a quiz at the end of this post, but since you made it all the way through, don't you want to test your comprehension skills? Here's the question. Who is one of my partner Dave Maquardt's BFF's? :) Answer below in the comments.)
If you have not yet experienced "Digital Natives" in their natural habitat, come on over to my house on any weekend. When I wander down stairs on a Saturday or Sunday morning, the scene is always pretty much the same. The TV is on and yammering away. But my kids are far more engaged in their respective laptops than they are in the TV making noise in the foreground. My 6 year old is likely buying a new go kart for his Webkinz monkey. My 8 year old is busy shooting balloons on Addicting Games. My 11 year old is blogging about some great new Japanese rock band video he found on YouTube. My 13 year old is reading the latest news about his favorite performers on Broadway.com. And, amazingly, while "watching" TV and voraciously consuming the Web, my children are more than capable of fighting with each at the same time -- digital multitasking at its finest.
Digital Natives today may be a small group of non-voting, non-credit card holding kids. But soon Digital Natives will be the predominant consumers of media, goods, services. And as such, they will expect their experiences to be inherently digital. Analog experiences will be viewed as quaint -- perhaps they'll trigger nostalgia for the good old days of board games and books -- but, in the end, the expectations will be one hundred percent digital. Companies will need to think differently about how they market to Digital Natives. Governments will need to think differently about how they engage Digital Citizens. Doctors will need to think diffeerently about how they treat Digital Patients. It won't be an evolution -- it will need to be a revolution.
I already see this revolution when I'm pitched on businesses whose customers are kids. Businesses focused on children or Millennials (the next big group of consumers being chased by the advertising world) have no interest in the historically analog world. Their products are naturally digital. They acquire customers digitally. They interact digitally. Indeed, any analog byproduct of the digital experience (you know, like meet real humans in person) is just that, a byproduct. Kids want their media consumption, their shopping, their communications to be digital. Webkinz is a great example of this phenomenon -- who would have thought that stuffed animals could prove to be the gateway drug to a digital experience? Yet that is precisely what they have become.
In light of all that, it was great to read the timely new book by John Palfrey and Urs Gasser called "Born Digital: Understanding the First Generation of Digital Natives." John and Urs look into the opportunities and challenges posed by this digital revolution. Those of us with kids are living in and among the Digital Natives and certainly can use all the help we can get to navigate this brave new world both for ourselves and for our kids.
I am a huge fan of John Palfrey's. John has spent the better part of the last decade running Harvard's Berkman Center for Internet & Society. On the side, he has been thrilling students in the classroom at Harvard Law School, doing interesting research, charming would be donors to the Center, and moonlighting as a Venture Capitalist at Highland Capital. He is truly a renaissance man. I have the great fortune of co-teaching a class on entrepreneurship and Venture Capital with John and he is a wonderfully understated speaker and thinker.
For those of you in the Bay Area next Monday, September 15th, I am co-sponsoring an event in the city to celebrate the release of John's "Born Digital" book. The reception is for friends of the Berkman Center and will include a talk by John about his book. It should be a great group of people and an interesting conversation. There is no need to RSVP to the event, just come on by. Here are the details:
Book Talk and Reception for Born Digital: Understanding The First Generation of Digital Natives by John Palfrey and Urs Gasser Monday, September 15th, 2008 6:00PM, to be followed by a cocktail reception.Hotel Vitale
8 Mission St
San Francisco, CA 94105
(415) 278-3700
Directions and map: http://www.hotelvitale.com/location/directions&map.htmlMore about the Event: http://cyber.law.harvard.edu/node/4575
More about Born Digital and the Authors: http://www.borndigitalbook.com/
Born Digital in Seattle 9/17/08: http://cyber.law.harvard.edu/node/4576
About the Berkman Center: http://cyber.law.harvard.edu/about
After watching a bazillion venture pitches, I've come to the conclusion that every VC Pitch should end the same way -- with the ask. If you want to crescendo into it, feel free to summarize why it is your technology is life changing, but finish with the ask -- "we are looking to raise six million dollars." Don't beat around the bush. Come right out and ask for the money. After all, that's what you're there for.
There are a number of reasons VCs want to hear what you're raising. And it isn't just the obvious one. Yes, it is helpful to know how much money a company is hoping you will invest. But there are other more valuable pieces of information that come out of the ask.
First of all, the amount of money you are raising is a good general indicator of how much you think the company is worth. I was in a pitch once learning about pretty interesting but pretty early stage technology. From where I sat, it seemed to me that the company could use single digit millions to take the technology to the next step. Yet, when we got to the slide that stated how much the company was raising, I learned that they were hoping to raise more than $50M. By my assessment, $50M would buy the vast majority of the company. Clearly the company felt differently -- they were hoping to sell closer to 20% of the company. It certainly refocused the conversation on what the company felt was the justification for such a high valuation and led to a very interesting discussion of the underlying economics of the company's business.
The thing I find most interesting about how much money a company is raising is not the actual number itself, but rather the conversation about how the company arrived at that number. What is interesting to me is what the company plans on doing with that money? What are the milestones the company can reach with that much money? Could they do it for less? What would they do if they had more money?
For me, the right question isn't "how much money do you want to raise?" The right question is "how much money should you raise?" Ask some entrepreneurs and they will tell you, the right amount of money to raise is as much as they possibly can (some recent monster financings suggest that strategy). That makes no sense to me. The right amount of money to bring into the company is enough to reach sufficient milestones to raise more money at a higher price at a future date (or, in some rare cases, enough to get to cash flow positive). If all goes well, the money I invest will be used to drive all sorts of risk out of the business, enabling the Company to raise the next round at a much higher valuation.
Figuring out the right amount to raise is more art than science but can have a big impact on the Company. If you raise too little money, you may run out before you have proven the business sufficiently to raise additional capital. In other words, raising too little money can be fatal. On the other hand, if you raise too much money early on, you could well be selling off too much of the company for too little capital. Companies should leverage early stage venture money to drive up the value of the company (by proving out as much of the business as quickly as possible), so that the next time the company fundraises, they will be able to bring in larger amounts of money while suffering smaller amounts of dilution.
Unfortunately, the perfect amount of money to raise is not always obvious. So the question isn't whether a company is raising the "right" amount of money. The question is, "why is the company raising the amount of money it is raising?" A great deal can be learned about a company from their answer to that question. So when you go out to raise money, be prepared to not only answer how much you are hoping to raise, but also why?
Over the course of the last week, Fred Wilson has been writing about "Venture Fund Economics" at the newly-redesigned AVC. Fred has tackled topics like how venture capitalists are measured, the impact of management fees and carry on net returns, and the impact of big winners on venture returns. What's more, Fred has done the unthinkable -- he has described venture economics in the context of his own fund's specific economic terms. While he hasn't posted the economic performance of his fund to date (that is probably more naked than even Fred is willing to get), he has posted the model he and his partner Brad built when assessing the attractiveness of raising a hundred million dollar fund. The model is fascinating and brings to light the challenges venture funds face to achieve index returns, let alone the outsized returns associated with top tier venture firms. (Great stuff, Fred!)
Given the challenges faced by venture investors to drive market returns, one reasonably might ask the question, "why do limited partners continue to flock to the asset class?" Who better to answer that question than a bona fide Limited Partner. Enter Chris Douvos. Chris is the co-head of private equity investing for TIFF (The Investment Fund for Foundations). Before that he was with the Princeton Investment Company. Chris is a wildly smart, experienced investor who I always love chatting with. Give one read of his new blog and you'll understand why. In the course of discussing the intricacies of the LP business, Chris makes analogies to baseball, the lottery, greek tragedy and uses classic Chris words and phrases like "horseplay," "impish," "hotties," "livin' la vida loca!" and "Caliente!" Chris's blog is just plain fun to read. And that is saying a whole lot when you consider that Chris is talking about investing in VC and PE firms -- not exactly scintillating material by its nature.
Interestingly, in one of his first posts, like Fred, Chris addresses the challenge of venture economics. Only instead of discussing venture fund economics in the context of a $100M fund, Chris talks about the more daunting $500M fund (Chris prefers the smaller funds -- he says he likes being "long idiosyncrasy and short momentum"). According to Chris's math, a $500M fund needs to create between $12B and $17B in company market capitalization in order to deliver a 3X return (the bar Fred set for himself as well). In Chris's words:
"Here's where it gets dicey for the masses, though (and I'll make some gross simplifying assumptions): if you're an LP and investing in an run-of-the-mill $500 million fund hoping to get a 3x net return, that fund has to generate $1.75 billion in returns ($1.25B in profit less 20% carry equals two turns of profit). Of course, that's just the capital that accrues to the firm's ownership stake. Since a lot of firms end up owning only 10-15% of their companies at exit, you've typically got to gross the $1.75 billion up by a factor of between 6.67 and 10. That suggests that those firms need to create between $12 and $17 billion of market cap just to get a 3x fund-level net return to their LPs. Caliente!
Let's unpack that box a bit more: at the $15 billion midpoint of the exit range above, a firm that invests in 25 early-stage companies will have to get, on average, $600 million exit valuations for each and every one of them. That's a pretty daunting number when you consider that the typical M&A valuation has hovered in the high double-digit millions for quite some time."
It is a daunting task for sure. To deliver those returns it almost assuredly requires a huge hit or two in your portfolio. So does that mean VCs need to swing for the fences? I don't think so. As Fred rightfully points out, "There are hitters in baseball, the best hitters in fact, that hit balls out of the park when they are just trying to make good contact." (Fred and Chris share a love of the baseball analogy). The power hitters are the guys Chris is trying to back. And those are the guys who will deliver the best returns.
For more great insights into the VC and Private Equity markets, you should definitely check out Chris Douvos's blog. This is stuff no one has blogged about before, and certainly not in such an entertaining way -- another fantastic addition to the blogosphere.
I was recently being pitched by a smart team of guys who are building an interesting business in the digital music space. The team has great domain expertise and plenty of credibility as entrepreneurs who have built a number of related businesses in the past. They were doing a nice job of selling the opportunity . . . until they got to the competition slide.
I have noticed that often times when I am pitched on a business, the competition slide is treated as, at best, a necessary evil. It's in there because it is "supposed" to be, but not much more. Sure, I've seen some really creative ways entrepreneurs have found to place themselves alone in the upper right corner of a 4X4 matrix. And I've heard -- perhaps more often than is merited by reality -- that there isn't any competition. But I rarely get a thorough assessment of how others are approaching the opportunity and how the pitching team is meaningfully differentiated.
So why should you focus on the competition? Isn't that just unnecessarily opening yourself up to questions about your business that may not otherwise be raised? Shouldn't you focus on your own business and its powerful attributes and not on the competition? Sure, the glories of your own product and strategy should be the centerpiece of your presentation, but the competition slide gives you a unique opportunity to show how smart you really are about the market you are attacking. Great entrepreneurs eat and breath the space in which they are building their business. And they don't just internalize their own market strategy, they watch every move the competition makes.
How do you know a great entrepreneur when you meet one? Great entrepreneurs would do a better job running the competition than their competitors are doing. They can tell you not only the ways in which their strategy is better than their competitors', but also the ways in which their competitors have created the very opportunity that they are exploiting. There is nothing more credibility building during a presentation than doing a great job of answering questions about the competition, and nothing more damning than doing a bad job.
My advice to any entrepreneur -- learn as much as possible about the competition. Not just because you'll do a better job of pitching your company, but because you'll do a better job of running your company. And, in the end, that is what ultimately matters the most.
Over the course of the many weeks of on-again, off-again MicroHoo madness, I did a fair bit of pontificating and speculating of my own about the would-be deal. After all, it was THE Bay Area topic of conversation (for one brief moment we all put our Facebook speculation on hold -- I am so pleased that we can get back to speculating about Facebook now and, better yet, speculating about MicroBook, or is it FaceSoft?).
Many of the MicroHoo conversations I had centered around the combined assets of Microsoft and Yahoo. What could the two companies, in combination, bring to bear upon the Internet landscape? And while the press largely liked to discuss the impact a Microsoft/Yahoo merger would have on the search market, to my mind that was not the biggest advantage of the combination. From where I sit, the greatest combined asset of Microsoft and Yahoo would be their vast social graph data. Farmed properly, MicroHoo could have enabled a stunningly powerful social network using nothing more than the fumes of their existing services.
To see the power of Microsoft's and Yahoo's social data, one need look no further than the first visit to virtually every social service. The first thing you are asked to do in the registration process is to give your login data for Yahoo Mail, Hotmail, etc. Why? Because each new social experience on the Web needs to recreate your social graph and the best way to jump start that process is to use the social graph data you already have stored in your existing communications services.
What if MicroHoo were to simply farm the social data contained in all of its current social services? Step one, implement a unified login across all MicroHoo services. I must say that this is one thing that Yahoo has gotten right from the very beginning (and Google has been a fast follower). Since its inception, Yahoo has viewed the customer experience as a unified one across all of its properties. And with each of its acquisitions, job number one has been to unify the login experience. Thus, Yahoo knows that "davidhornik" on Yahoo Mail is the same as "davidhornik" on Flickr is the same as "davidhornik" on MyYahoo. What if MicroHoo also knew that it was the same as "davidhornik" on Microsoft Messenger and as "davidhornik" on Hotmail? In fact, MicroHoo could know that I am the same "davidhornik" on:
Yahoo Mail Yahoo Messenger Flickr Delicious Upcoming Hotmail Windows Live Messenger Xbox Live etc.
Every one of these services contains data from which MicroHoo could have created a social graph an order of magnitude larger than MySpace or Facebook. Add on top of that social data compelling personalized experiences drawn from the likes of MyYahoo, Yahoo Finance, Zune.net, etc. and you've got the makings of a pretty powerful social experience.
So why haven't Yahoo and Microsoft done this on their own, let alone in combination? That's a great question. If I were in charge, it is where I would start. As all experiences on the Web increasingly are informed by social relationships, the long term winners will be the players who can bring the most social data to bear on their services. What's more, as can be seen in the recent announcements by MySpace, Facebook and Google, the ability to own that social graph and make it available for use by third-party services will prove invaluable. While Google has relatively little to offer in terms of existing social data, both Yahoo and Microsoft sit on treasure troves of data (as does AOL for that matter) that would allow them to legitimately compete with MySpace and Facebook as the Social Graph of Record for the rest of the Web.
Not that it would be easy for Microsoft or Yahoo to create a social network from whole cloth. I know it wouldn't. (Just look at Yahoo 360.) But the prize is well worth the effort. Consider the millions of people who have yet to join any social network. While Yahoo and Microsoft may not be the likely starting point for Millennials, it strikes me as a very natural place for the rest of the Web to discover and embrace social networking. Similarly, Microsoft and/or Yahoo seem the natural repositories of the social graph of record for the rest of the Web. If MicroHoo is ever reborn, the big opportunity for the combined companies is to create the social network for everyone else (and the social graph for everything else). In the mean time, Jerry and Steve, if you are listening, you probably should get working on it independently. My guess is that your future in the Web depends upon it.
When I first started talking to my now-partners about joining August Capital, I was stunned at the slow pace of the conversation. I couldn't imagine how it could take months to make a decision about whether or not to invite me to join the partnership. Admittedly, I wasn't coming from the most conventional background to enter the venture industry. But over the course of months, the August partners had more than enough time to talk with pretty much everyone I'd ever met in my professional life (plus a few choice grade school teachers while they were at it). In the end, after four months of grilling, I was invited to join August Capital.
At the time, I remember thinking to myself "how could it possibly take four months to decide?" It seemed like an absurdly long process. Yet, having now been in the venture business for some time, and having been on the other side of that process, it is amazing to me that it didn't take longer. Why is that? Two things in particular strike me.
The first is that partnerships are small, delicate creatures. At August, there were only four partners when I joined. That's not very many people. And partners spend a lot of time together. We make collective decisions about nearly all things in the partnership -- from investment decisions, to personnel decisions, to culinary decisions. And we each serve as a reality check for the rest of our partners. So keeping a partnership functional, let alone collegial, is tricky business. Rest assured, adding a new partner can throw off that balance really easily.
The second challenge is that adding a partner is a much bigger economic decision than making an investment in a company. I don't mean it is an economic decision in the sense of sharing the economics of the partnership. But rather, it is an economic decision because each new partner will be responsible for making a set of investments out of the partnership. If you make the right decision, your new partner will make investment choices that accrete large returns back to the partnership. But if you make the wrong decision, your new partner could easily invest tens of millions of dollars in companies that ultimately fail, hamstringing the overall fund returns. So adding a partner is a bit like making an indirect bet on a bunch of companies -- getting it wrong will have a widespread impact on your fund performance.
Given all that, the decks are stacked against anyone joining a venture capital partnership. It is just too easy to find reasons to say "no." Which is why it absolutely thrills me to welcome Howard Hartenbaum to the August Capital partnership. Howard has successfully run the gauntlet and come out the other side, and we are already enjoying the benefits of Howard's perspective and approach. Howard is simply a fantastic guy, and we are lucky to have him join us.
For those of you who don't know Howard, here are a few quick thoughts on why he's such a great fit for us at August.
First and foremost, Howard is a geek. After graduating from MIT, Howard didn't join an investment bank; he joined Honda Motor Company where he served as an ergonomics engineer. He got to build awesome products like the NSX. If there is one thing we like to do at partners meetings while eating lunch, it is talk about cars. Cars and email. Cars, email and digital photography. Cars, email, digital photography and high speed wireless. Cars, email, digital photography, high speed wireless and smart phones. Cars, email, digital photography . . . you get the point. Howard is a welcomed addition to the conversation.
Second, Howard firmly believes that the most important thing in a start-up are the founders. Howard has a great track record of working with entrepreneurs to help them bring their vision to fruition. As a result, entrepreneurs love Howard because he is helpful without being overbearing. What's more, Howard was an entrepreneur before becoming an investor. So he's been on both sides of the table and can bring that perspective not only to his portfolio companies, but also to our investment decisions.
And third, Howard is a great investor. Prior to joining us at August Capital, Howard was a General Partner with Draper Richards. He has invested in dozens of interesting technology companies. Notably, Howard was the very first investor in Skype and got involved in the business on the company building side (Howard was active in Skype's global business development efforts and served as the GM of Skype's US business). Howard was also an investor in Photobucket and Bebo, among many others. Howard's track record is impressive and it hasn't gone unnoticed -- he was named to the Forbes Midas List in 2007.
Given all that, it only took us a few months to invite Howard to join us at August. After all, we had to find time to talk with Howard's EE professors and his chess team coach :) We consider ourselves very lucky to have Howard as part of August Capital. He is a fantastic investor, a geek at heart, and a great guy to hang out with. What more could one ask for?
I was having breakfast this morning with Salil Deshpande from Bay Partners. Salil and I were talking about assessing company progress and how best to measure that progress. Salil invests in super early-stage deals and has his companies report to him on their progress on a frequent basis. He said that he had one CEO who would report on his progress in such florid language that eventually Salil had to forbid his use of adjectives in his progress reports. Salil said that he didn't want to hear that things were going great. He wanted to hear precisely how things were going.
I nearly jumped out of my seat. Salil had articulated one of my biggest pet peeves when it comes to company pitches (and board meetings for that matter). I hate adjectives. I don't want to hear that one of the company founders is a "fantastic sales exec." I want to hear that she was Presidents Club the last twelve years running. I don't want to hear that the product is "revolutionary and paradigm-shifting." I want to hear about the specific features of the product that are differentiated and how. I don't want to hear that the company has "massive market traction." I want to see a graph of progressive quarterly sales and a giant sales pipeline.
Adjectives are not convincing. Facts are convincing. I may not agree with the conclusions a company draws from those facts. But I will at least be in a position to appropriately assess those conclusions. Whereas adjectives are all about conclusions without the underlying facts. As an entrepreneur, you are far better off having me determine that your market is "massive," your founders are "brilliant," and your product is "elegant," than to tell me that your company has "an elegant solution serving a massive market designed by brilliant founders." So reread your pitch and remove all of the adjectives. It will go massively, monumentally, gargantuanly. colossally better that way.
A little over five years ago, Andrew Anker and I started chatting about blogging. There was plenty of blogging going on already for sure. But no one in the Sand Hill crowd was thinking about it. At the time there was still a prevailing sense that venture investing was a black box and any view into the box was a bad idea. Andrew and I talked about the fact that we didn't buy that. We thought there were all sorts of things VCs could talk about that would be interesting and valuable to entrepreneurs. Andrew proposed we start VentureBlog and came up with the tagline "A Random Walk Down Sand Hill Road" -- we laughed and VentureBlog was born.
Five years ago (technically, five years ago tomorrow), Andrew posted our "Hello, World." Andrew wrote that we would chat about what we do as early stage venture investors and concluded, "Mostly, we'll figure it out as we go along. No idea if this is a sustainable idea or not, but we're going to give it a go. Enjoy!" Since that first post there have been a few different folks come and go on VentureBlog, but, for better or worse, I have stuck around and kept on writing. I have tried my best to give a view into the black box and bring a little humor to it in the process. It has been a blast.
One thing has changed for sure since we started VentureBlog. There are now dozens of VC bloggers. From Sand Hill Road (Jeremy Liew, Susan Wu, etc.) to New York City (Fred Wilson, Ed Sim, etc.) to Colorado (Brad Feld, Ryan McIntyre, etc.) to Boston (Mike Hirshland, Jeff Bussgang, etc.) to Philadelphia (Josh Kopelman, Chris Fralic, etc.?). The problem entrepreneurs have is no longer finding information, it is sorting through it. So much has been written and so much more will be written about startups and entrepreneurship and Venture Capital. And I learn a pile from all of you every day. So thank you.
As for the question of whether or not VentureBlog is a sustainable idea, I guess the answer is "yes" and "no." I have been writing with varying degrees of frequency over these past five years. It is great to have a venue to share my thoughts when something jumps out at me. And I hope to continue writing for the foreseeable future. On the other hand, in the face of superhuman VC bloggers like Fred Wilson and Brad Feld, I feel deeply inadequate. How they manage to write day in and day out while finding time to do anything else is truly beyond me. My hat's off to them. And my apologies to those of you who feel that VentureBlog is too infrequently written to be relevant. I will try harder.
I greatly appreciate the conversations we've had here at VentureBlog. And I am thrilled to see the massive ecosystem of VC bloggers that has emerged. Many thanks to those of you who continue to read, link and comment. It has been a monumental education and a great privilege. And a huge thanks to Andrew for getting this whole thing started. Here's to the next five years.
An interesting debate has broken out between Glenn Kelman and Mike Arrington. Glenn is the CEO of Redfin, a Seattle-based startup that is trying to modernize the process of buying and selling homes. Glenn's a smart guy and a great entrepreneur. And he has always struck me as quite thoughtful. Which is why I was surprised to read his recent blog post entitled, "How Green Was My Valley." In that post, Glenn extolls the virtues of Seattle, while attacking Silicon Valley:
"the Valley's monomania is really just a kind of pubescence. What else could account for the Valley's self-righteousness, its congregations of frustrated dudes, its all-nighters, idealism, delusions of grandeur, mood-swings, longings, dramas, hero-worship and pranks? Anywhere else by contrast seems all grown-up."
Wow. Those are strong words. And the rest of his post is equally provocative. Glenn doesn't just praise Seattle. He berates the Bay Area.
When I first read Glenn's post, I almost took the bait. But I thought better of it. Mike Arrington, on the other hand, did not. Mike couldn't have Glenn badmouth the Bay Area as a "heartless amnesiac" without pointing out to Glenn that the Bay Area knows better than to waste its time focusing on the past. Mike couldn't let Glenn get away with praising the Seattle lifestyle without pointing out that it is just that, a lifestyle; the Bay Area has better things to do than worry about lifestyle. Mike couldn't let Glenn get away with baldly suggesting that Bay Area businesses are trendy and Seattle businesses focus on "what works" without giving a single concrete example; the Bay Area is all about specific examples, not baseless accusations. Mike couldn't let Glenn get away with any of it. That's just not something Mike can do.
I don't raise this to join in the rumble against Glenn. I am a fan of Seattle. My partners at August Capital have funded some great companies in Seattle, not the least of which is Microsoft. But I do want to take issue with one of Glenn's criticisms of the Bay Area. Glenn refers in a number of different ways to the obsessiveness of the Bay Area and suggests that the Bay Area's "monomania" is somehow a detriment to company building. I have to disagree. I love the obsessiveness of the Bay Area. It is the drug that fuels the Bay Area's startup economy. And it is the drug that fuels my every day as a tech investor. I love the fact that I can talk about entrepreneurship at AYSO. I love the fact that I can have conference calls with my CEO's at 1am. I love the fact that wildly successful entrepreneurs who could retire for life dive into their next venture within six months of leaving their last. I love the fact that Palo Alto's newest yogurt shop is a hotbed of tech recruiting. I love the fact that I funded a company after bumping into them at a local coffee shop. I love the fact that school auctions include items like "a tour of Facebook" and "10 hours with a trademark attorney" and "company logo design." Is it obsessive? You bet. Is it good for business? You bet.
To tell you the truth, I don't actually think that the obsessiveness of successful startups in the Bay Area is any different from that of successful startups in Seattle. I happen to know that Glenn himself is completely obsessed with entrepreneurship and building Redfin into the next great company. What is unique about the Bay Area is the pervasiveness of that obsession. It is everywhere you go. And I don't think that's a bug. I think it's a feature.
I am definitely late to the party in praising Marc Andreessen's incredibly great Blog. That said, my failure to extoll the virtues of Marc and his dead-on insights is not the result of me personally arriving late at the lovefest. I have been thrilled to read Marc's uniformly interesting and well-reasoned insights since blog post #1. I just haven't had the right opportunity to suck up to Marc and tell him how much I care. Thankfully, that moment has come!
If you are as big a Techmeme addict as am I, you have probably noticed this little discussion going on in the blog world about the would-be Microsoft/Yahoo merger. I have never seen a single issue take over Techmeme so completely. And the discussion about MicroHoo! or YahooSoft! has been pretty overwhelmingly damning of Microsoft and its proposal in general. A friend of mine recently referred to Microsoft as the Big Bad Wolf, which I think pretty much sums up what tech commentators have to say about the deal. But out of the increasingly loud chants of "Burn the Witch" came a voice of dissent (reason?) -- Marc Andreessen self-titled "contrarian view" (the full title is "Silicon Valley after a Microsoft/Yahoo merger: a contrarian view") poses, well, a contrarian view.
In six broad points, Marc argues that with or without the MicroHoo! deal, nothing has changed in Silicon Valley. There are lots of startups out there. There are lots of acquirers out there. But, more importantly, there are millions of steps between the two and a preoccupation with the contraction or expansion of the potential pool of acquirers distracts from the real job at hand, which is building meaningful companies. I am tempted to quote Marc in his entirety on this point (you should definitely go read it all) but I think this chunk sums it up well -- Marc writes:
Building your startup with a goal of getting acquired is foolishness anyway, in my opinion. Smart people disagree with me on this, but I'll make my case in two points:
* Big companies don't want to buy startups that want to get bought. Instead, big companies buy startups that have built something of value that they decide is important to them.* You can't possibly guess what things of value big companies are going to want to own in one or two or three years. The world is changing too fast -- witness the Microsoft hostile bid for Yahoo itself! -- and besides, big companies are Moby Dick and you can't understand the reasoning behind their decisions anyway.
Combine those two points with the fact that no big company buys that many startups each year anyway, and it's easy to see that the odds of you successfully anticipating something that a big company is going to want in the future and then actually selling your company to them -- as your strategy -- is a very risky proposition that is highly prone to failure.
Precisely! Not only is this the right answer to concerns about a Microsoft/Yahoo! merger, this has also been my answer to concerns about a recession. Startups have too many things to worry about along the path to creating a meaningful business for these macro trends to be more than a distraction. They may have an impact on timing -- when you may or may not get bought or go public -- but they rarely if ever have an impact on your ultimate success.
Marc's "contrarian" view concludes, "Your job is exactly the same as before: build something people want, scale it up, make sure it's defensible, and make sure you can make money with it. Build a company you are proud of." Right on, Marc. That's a great summary of how I view my job every day. That should be my VC credo: to find, fund and build companies to be proud of! And nothing about MicroHoo! or the subprime debt crisis is going to change how I go about that. So carry on Silicon Valley. We've got a lot of hard work to do building great companies. Everything else is just a distraction.
When I first started writing VentureBlog, I used to talk a lot about entrepreneurship. At the time, not a lot had been written about pitching VCs or the Venture Capital process, so there was lots of virgin territory. Since that time, dozens of VCs have started blogging and much has been said about what it takes to get a VC down the isle. Bits and pieces here and there -- a good Google archeologist can pull it all together. But having spent the week pontificating about PowerPoint and the likes, I've decided to take one more swing through the basics of pitching a VC.
As I thought about the process of pitching a business, it struck me that no matter what the stage, the information was essentially the same. A good elevator pitch contains the same content as a good executive summary contains the same content as a good PowerPoint contains the same content as a good business plan. The distinction among these business descriptions is not the substance, it is the degree to which the essential elements are fleshed out. Each document contains slightly more detail than the preceding.
Elevator Pitch --> Executive Summary --> PowerPoint --> Business Plan
This makes good intuitive sense. There is no reason that the things that are most compelling about your business would change based upon the nature of the business description. Nor would an investor be interested in different things by virtue of the form that description takes.
What, then, are the essential elements that make up a good PowerPoint, a persuasive elevator pitch, a compelling executive summary? I have no doubt that VCs will differ somewhat on the precise list, as well as the order and the emphasis. But at its core, I believe that a successful business description should include the following elements:
1. Introduction
2. Team
3. Product
4. Market
5. Business Model
6. Competition
7. Financials
8. Conclusion
If you are pitching a VC, start with these 8 slides. If you are writing an executive summary, start with these 8 headings.
Obviously some businesses will require additional information that is outside the scope of these basics. I am not suggesting for a second that you should always pigeonhole your business into these categories alone. But they are a great starting point from which to build a persuasive description of your business.
I was recently reading some old posts on Venture Blog and couldn't believe how short they were. One might call them pithy. Or one might also call them lazy. Either way, they were short. I should really try that again.
I have been teaching a class at Harvard Law School this winter semester called Venture Capital and the Technology Start-up with John Palfrey, the Executive Director of the Berkman Center. It is really fun to be back at the law school and working with John. I have been blown away by the energy that the law students are bringing to the topic of Entrepreneurship and Venture Capital. Sadly, I never had a VC or Entrepreneurship class in law school. Lets see, I had torts, contracts, criminal law, federal courts, administrative law, property, intellectual property, corporations, securities regulation, constitutional law . . . but no entrepreneurship. Then again, I don't know that I would have had the sense to actually take a VC or Entrepreneurship class back then. So its presence would have been wasted on me.
Today my students had to actually pitch business ideas to real live VCs from the Boston area. And they did a great job. As I was discussing with them how to think about company building and pitching, it struck me that much like the law, building great companies is all about applying precedent. Only, instead of the applicable precedent being case law in this instance, the applicable precedent is a business case. Pitching your business is all about finding the right business analogs and describing how they apply to the company you're building (e.g., "we're the Amazon.com of funeral supplies."). That isn't so different from finding the right case analogs and describing how they apply to the lawsuit you're defending. So there may be hope that we lawyers are able to figure out this entrepreneurship stuff yet.