This week, I came across this tweet, and was inspired to write the response you see, as well as this article. Thanks Adam for the prompt!
For 10 years now, the term “unicorn” has dangled in front of eager, ambitious tech founders like a golden target in the sky. As software has steadily eaten the world, this shimmering oasis has eaten away at young entrepreneurs’ minds, promising riches and status beyond their wildest expectations.
I should know; I was once one of them.
When I first joined my friend Mat Sherman in building the second attempt at PubLoft, I quickly soaked up everything there was to learn about startups, venture capital, and Silicon Valley. Mat, a serial founder and relentless pursuer of tech culture, had a big vision: a billion-dollar company providing marketing services to startups.
We grew >100% month-over-month for seven months, accepted Jason Calacanis’s invitation to the LAUNCH Accelerator, moved to San Francisco, networked with incredible people in tech, discovered investors weren’t excited about PubLoft, pivoted to GigLoft, and by the end of 2019 had learned all kinds of lessons on how not to spend $100,000. 😅
Because we were still relatively immature, money problems led to relationship problems and Mat decided to step out. I did my best to figure out how to keep the train running myself, but also turned my focus to other startups and a consulting career.
While leading marketing for Career Crash, a seed-stage startup seeking to replace the résumé and job applications, I discovered that a vast majority of our target audience cared less about getting a job in tech and more about following simple passions like woodworking and gardening. Meanwhile, I moved to a suburban neighborhood in Gilbert, which felt more like a village than anywhere else I’ve ever lived.
My own love of plant-tending, struggle with the world of work, and foray into spirituality all combined into an insightful realization: a huge part of our culture is overly fixated on tech, business, the economy, and making it all grow grow grow as fast as possible.
I started to learn about permaculture and regenerative agriculture. I developed an appreciation for soil health, celestial cycles, and the incomparably slow rate of life at which Earth operates while we humans stress about what others think of us daily, and how we’ll make rent each month. I began transforming our lawn-covered property into a food forest.
Then, as 2022 drew to a close, I knew I wanted to pivot away from tech for tech’s sake and make my life’s work about bringing humanity back into harmony with Earth and her systems. In January 2023, I founded Homegrown, and by early March I had decided to establish it as nonprofit, effectively destroying my chances of raising venture capital.
I still want to build something huge and world-changing, but I don’t care about a billion-dollar exit anymore. I still want to build wealth, but only in ways that are aligned with Earth. And I certainly don’t want investor pressure to grow rapidly—a sure-fire way to be stressed out of my mind.
Forget “unicorns.” I’m building moringas from now on. 😎 They propagate easily, grow fast and big, are drought-resilient, create incredible nourishment for their consumers for many generations.
By the way, I’m giving away moringas to people in the Phoenix area: