I bring to your attention the translation of an excellent article by Michael Arrington from TechCrunch, which I regularly give to my familiar startups when doubts start to torment me and the questions like “Why the hell am I still doing this?”

Welcome under cat.
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Today I read the posts of Don Dodge and Glenn Calman about people running from Google to Facebook, and they pushed me to thinking about entrepreneurs.
“Most people dislike risk taking,” my professor of economics told me. This means that they must be rewarded in order to take on this risk. And the higher the risk, the higher the expected reward.
We make daily decisions about risks / rewards. Should I enjoy the downhill, even if there is a small chance to knock out the knee? Do you go to university or find a job and start earning money right now? Should you eat exceptionally healthy food or eat a cheeseburger? Should I go to the toilet before the movie? etc.
Every time you commit or do not act, an algorithm for calculating risk / reward is triggered in your brain.
However, entrepreneurs forever all is not like people. They do not need a risk reward because they actually benefit from the risk itself. In other words, they love adventure.
The potential reward for starting a business is daunting when you consider risks. An extremely small number of entrepreneurs are becoming really rich. And most entrepreneurs would probably earn much larger amounts, and have a more stable personal relationship, working for someone else.
In my youth, I worked as a corporate lawyer, representing the interests of technology start-ups in Silicon Valley. There was a high probability that I would be able to become a partner of the company in 7-8 years and will earn about a million dollars a year to 40. All that was required of me was to work hard and bring new customers. I did an excellent job with both.
But I quit jurisprudence in just 3 years to join a startup. And the reason I decided to take this step was in the
adventure. I wanted to
be in the game , and not just watch her from the side. Parents thought I was insane. They still have no idea how I make a living, and, frankly, they are “slightly” angry because I spent their money for a degree rightfully just to throw everything to 30 .
But I still went for it. A year later, I left this company to create my own. Since then, I have never looked back. The first company I founded brought a lot of money to venture capitalists - about $ 30 million - but almost a penny to the founders. The companies that I opened later alternated between catastrophically failures and tremendously successful ones. However, I never considered the possibility of going to a “normal job”. It's like a black and white world, and I wanted colors. At the same time, I hate working for other people, if only because I am really bad at it.
When communicating with non-entrepreneurs about the world of startups, I often cite analogies with piracy. Not because I know so much about pirates, but because general stereotypes work fine as an analogy.
Why did people in the 17th century (or any other) become pirates? The possible rewards looked disgusting: you had an extremely small chance of getting rich, at the same time, an extremely large chance of drowning, of being hanged, shot, whatever. And life on a small ship with hundreds of other guys was not so attractive, even for the captain.
In my imaginary pirate world, these guys were simply corrupted risk aversion algorithms. Unlike most people, they longed for it. Potential wealth was just a pretext for risky business. The real reward was the pirate life itself.
Plus, in those days it was almost impossible to conduct business.
Now it turns out that most of the residents of Silicon Valley have absolutely normal risk aversion algorithms. They carefully calculate the potential benefits of a startup before joining it, consider the possibility of obtaining a share in the company together with the salary. And also evaluate the value of the company for their resume.
Some of the richest people I know are not entrepreneurs at all. They worked at HP, moved to Netscape when things went uphill there. Earned a fortune and moved to Google, and earned another fortune. And now they are moving to Facebook.
They can be excellent engineers, or salespeople, or marketers, or performers. But they are not entrepreneurs. They are just engaged in building resumes and do not really differ from others.
I don't care if you are a millionaire. If you have not founded your company, have not put your resume and money on the line, and, perhaps, even your marriage, just to come off and try to do something on your own, you are not a pirate, you are not in a club.
These excitements after the first hire, when you managed to convince another insane soul to join your almost hopeless project. The joy of attracting venture capital and the realization that you learn your name in the press. Excitement from the launch and ... booms ... customers! And this feeling that you have learned really something useful, just do not yet understand what, even if the company is confidently sinking.
Such a person is interesting. He has something to tell. This is a person “who is actually in the arena” [approx.
Teddy Roosevelt 's
quote (last on the list)].
There are many things that I probably will never try in life. Military battle My dictatorship is in one of the small Central American countries. Dunk in basketball. Walk around Mars.
But I am, and always will be an entrepreneur. And damn it, it's awesome. Because if I were a lawyer, even a rich lawyer, I would always be interested in whether there is something even a little more adventurous that I could do with my life, besides working for my uncle.