The founder was solving the exact problem I'd solved at Opendoor. Same customer pain. Same market dynamics. I leaned forward, ready to add value.
Then she showed me her solution. AI-first operations. Instant outcomes. Unit economics I didn't recognize.
I had two choices: Share my outdated playbook and sound authoritative. Or admit my four-year-old expertise had already expired.
Most VCs choose authority.
Vinod Khosla refuses to let junior investors sit on boards. "You haven't earned the right to advise an entrepreneur. Have you gone through how hard it is, how uncertain it is, how traumatic it is?"
He has famously said: 70% of investors add negative value. Not zero value. Negative.
You're reading this thinking you're in the 30%.
So did I.
Four startups. Real scar tissue. Actual P&L responsibility. I thought my expertise was permanent.
But across from founders building in 2025, my 2020 playbook might as well be from 1990.
Last week in New York, a founder tried to introduce me to another founder. The response: "Too busy, maybe later."
The introducer apologized. I told him that's fine. I haven't earned the right to that meeting yet. Even though it hurt that founder met with three other investors that same day. I checked.
Most VCs would be offended. Their fund's brand should open doors.
Here's what earning the right looks like: A founder saved six months because her advisor lost the exact same enterprise customer for the exact same reason. Specific scar, specific save.
Not "I've done sales." But "I lost Walmart because we couldn't guarantee 99.99% uptime during Black Friday."
Not "I understand marketplaces." But "We burned $2M in Denver before realizing it was supply quality, not liquidity."
The half-life of expertise is shorter than your fund cycle.
Building a company ten years ago? Worthless. Running product at a public company? You've only seen 2% annual change. Even current operators miss the mark. They know their company, not the pattern across ten others facing the same decision this quarter.
I've earned the right to help find product-market fit and build teams from the ground up. Everything else requires three words most VCs can't say: "I don't know."
Founders don't want hedgers. They typically want someone who bled the same way they're bleeding now.
A VC showed me his Sent folder last month. Scrolling through timestamps. "Fifteen emails! And they won't even give me allocation."
That founder raised $30M without him. She didn't need someone who could Google faster. She needed someone who'd already bled the exact way she was about to bleed.
The right to advise isn't granted once. It's granted meeting by meeting, decision by decision. And revoked with every ignored email.
When founders stop responding, they're not busy. You're not worth their time.
good stuff
Such a good point - advice derived from someone's lived experience is often too narrow to apply to a situation or too broad to be meaningful. it is so annoying when investors play elder statesman by offering generic advice rather than getting in the weeds to analyze the situation