25 June 2012
This article discusses the no-man’s land in which bootstrapping startups often find themselves.
Many service companies, including our own, would love to follow in the footsteps of successful people like Jason Fried and David Heinemeier Hansson at 37signals, or Ryan Carson at Treehouse—transitioning from a client-services company to a products company, through bootstrap funding.
And it’s understandable! Who wouldn’t want to work on something that you own, love and fully control, and be in a situation in which your earnings are no longer a direct function of your available time?
But getting there requires, in most cases, the willingness to make up-front personal sacrifices—serious personal sacrifices—dedicating yourself consistently and with discipline to the goal, for what can seem like a long time. And the demands during this time can seem unreasonable, or even impossible.
Attempting to make that journey without the willingness or ability to make the necessary personal sacrifices, one can find oneself in a no-man’s land, which is worse than being a fully-engaged client-services company. And that’s the subject of this article.
When I started Makalu Aerospace, back in 1997, and bootstrapped its initial growth through personal savings and part-time consultancy, I remember five years of nothing but dedication to the destination.
There was no distinction between weekdays and weekends, no holidays, no shopping, getting around by bike (didn’t own a car) and otherwise minimizing our costs—and living off personal savings, as the company didn’t become profitable until around the fifth year.
It was an extended period of intense effort. In fact, the only five-year period in my life, during which I possibly worked harder was my time spent at Georgia Tech. Interestingly, though, it didn’t at the time really feel like a sacrifice. Pretty much the only thing I wanted to do was reach that destination.
My own experience is consistent with that of every person I know who has built a successful company, as well as nearly all those I’ve indirectly observed.
Before looking at what success, the road to get there, and what we’ll call “no man’s land” look like, let’s start by conceptually chucking how we spend our time into four broad categories.
Once you’ve reached your destination, and have built a successful company, the situation hopefully looks like this:
The business can be maintained (if a conscious effort is made to arrange it so), such that enough time is available for a healthy balance of fixed and discretionary personal time.
Life is good, and you can start to blog about your company’s “four-day week” policy.
In my own experience, as well as that of every successful business owner I’ve known, success only comes after an extended period looking something like this:
It’s critical that enough time is consistently allocated to product work, so that continual progress is made, and at a level and pace sufficient to overcome the drag that leads to the loss of momentum, motivation and inspiration.
Here’s what this phase usually looks like:
This can be a difficult and challenging period, particularly on the personal and social relations of the founders. 85% of your life could be spent working—as effectively you’re running two distinct business, and having to do all aspects of both (and a good job, to boot!)
And if it feels like working to you, or if it’s unsupported by your spouse or close friends, then it can be very, very tough.
If you choose to start down this road, but can’t or won’t make the necessary sacrifices, then you can end up in a “no-man’s land” situation that looks like this:
In this situation:
It’s frustrating to be in no-man’s land. You still have the dream in mind, but you feel it, along with your momentum and motivation, slipping away, day by day.
If you find yourself in no-man’s land, it’s important to recognize it, and deeply reflect on your objectives and priorities. You don’t want to stay there. If you’re not committed to the destination, it’s ultimately the road to nowhere.