When I founded my own startup, I thought I knew what I was getting into: after all, I had been a senior manager at eBay, managing director at Gumtree and chief operating officer at Zoopla. But since starting Adzuna in 2011, I’ve realized that being a founder can be very, very different. Here are some things I’ve learned in the past two years.
Learning to sell
As a finance guy who became a general manager, I’ve always been driven by strategy, product and marketing, and never valued sales. Sales was something I looked down on — a commodity role staffed by poorly qualified “liars for hire”, something you didn’t need if you had good product and marketing, or a necessary evil to get the word out.
As a founder, I sell every day, to investors, to staff, to the government, but also to customers, so that we can earn the revenue to pay the bills. And you know what? I’m not great at it, but I’ve started to like it. There’s the feedback you get from talking to clients that helps mould the product strategy, the thrill of the chase, and the buzz of making a sale or hearing that one of our job board customers is so satisfied that they want to double their spend with us. That’s real validation of all your hard work.
Yay, now I don’t have a boss
My first day working full-time on Adzuna, I felt a great sense of freedom. No more boss, no more targets, we could do what we wanted and take the business anywhere. It was a naïve excitement.
The reality of course is that everyone has a boss — even venture capitalists have their Limited Partners — and as a founder I find that position has been divvied up between my conscience and those I am responsible to. Mine are my investors (angels and VCs) whose money I took on a promise; my co-founder, who foolishly decided I was the right person to go into business with; my employees, whose livelihoods and future careers depend on our success; and my family, who tolerate my crazy desire to stop being a responsible breadwinner and play at being Richard Branson.
The emotional rollercoaster
I worked damned hard at eBay, Gumtree and Zoopla: don’t doubt that for a second. I worked at evenings and weekends, I had sleepless nights, I freaked out when the servers went down or we had a DDOS attack. As MD or COO, I felt complete ownership of my role and the success of the business.
But even after all that, the position of actually being a founder changed things. You take things more personally, you worry more, you try even harder, and it’s more of an emotional experience. It’s like having kids. When a new product feature that makes job hunting better goes live, I feel proud and elated; when a big partnership deal falls through I fall briefly into a black pit. And like being a parent, it’s really hard to explain to people who’ve never done it.
Switching off is harder. I find that I have to trick myself through exercise or an activity so absorbing that I have to stop working through the next seven things on my to-do list in my head. Skiing and running seem to do the job.
Trusting your gut feel
The big companies I worked for, and even the startups, suffered a bit from analysis paralysis. The employment relationship, processes like assessments, pay rises, targets and quarterly earnings, and just the sheer energy required to co-ordinate hundreds of people make it hard for big companies to move quickly. They also tend to overvalue analysis and consensus decision-making.
A new startup can bypass a huge proportion of that lost energy. Some of that comes from taking more risk, some from an ability to change direction quickly, some from entrepreneurial spirit. But a chunk also comes from founders just trusting their gut feel when there is no data. When you are spending someone else’s money or working for someone else’s company you feel like you need to analyze and justify decisions, but as a founder it’s easier to just go for it. If the Prime Minister’s office wants to use your economic data in his iPad app, you just say “hell yeah”.
Of course, if you’re successful and your business scales, some of those corporate processes start to creep back in — and they need to. But still, the crazy founder as ultimate decision-arbiter can help cut through the chatter, just as they do at Facebook or Amazon.
Making a dent in the world
Most people are content to be part of the flow of the world: to fit in, to meet their boss’s expectations and get a bonus at the end of the year, to make a bit of money so they can enjoy spending time with their friends and the beauty of the world as it is.
Entrepreneurs want to make a dent in the world. They want to change it. That takes enormous energy, vision, powers of persuasion and persistence in a world full of people who are afraid of change. But it is a beautiful thing when it happens. At eBay, Gumtree and Zoopla I was lucky enough join businesses early enough in their evolution that most people I spoke to hadn’t heard of them, and asked me skeptical questions about why they were needed or useful. In a handful of years, they each became household names and those conversations with friends or acquaintances completely changed.
At Adzuna, we believe that classifieds search is broken, that we can make it better for billions of people from our tiny office in South West London, and that in the process we can move a whole industry along with us. For all the thrills and spills, I love what we do and there’s no other job in the world I would trade it in for.