Of Angry Mobs with Pitchforks and the Art of Being Direct

We’d all get a lot more business done if we stopped talking and did more listening……

It will come as no surprise to anyone that in my current line of work - even in the fantasy land of Covid-19 - I spend a lot of time with entrepreneurs – those whose companies are currently in the Wisdom portfolio – but more often those who’d like to be.  And as a public company CEO, I spent a lot of time talking to investors: those who held my stock, and those who I wished would buy our stock.  In fact, I’m sure I spent a lot more time doing this than the average CEO.  But I needed to spend a lot more time than the average CEO.   Our shareholders weren’t happy with the company, and they certainly had no reason to be happy with me – the new CEO who, as a long time board member, I already had blood on my hands. 

Before I showed up, our investors had suffered through eight long years of revenue decline and cash burn without seeing a profit.  We had activists wanting to replace the entire board.  Our stockholders were tired, and frustrated – and did I say angry?  So my task was to try to convince them that we had a strategy, and that we believed we were an undervalued asset that could grow - profitably.  At the onset, it wasn’t a pleasant task.  But we had a decent story to tell, and gradually the mood softened.  The mood moved from “burn this bozo at the stake” to “OK, let’s give him a chance to see if he crashes and burns without our help.”

But I’m off on a tangent – my point was to talk about an investor I had the pleasure of meeting in New York in those stressful days.  Of the hundreds of fund managers and analysts and investors I’ve talked to over the years, he was special.   An old school investor.   A native New Yorker was making money on Wall Street while I was still in high school.  He ran his own fund, no staff, no analysts.  Did the heavy lifting himself.  The kind of guy who marks a friend (and a deal) with a firm handshake – not with a “like” on Facebook.  (It’s already hard to remember actual handshakes, right?)  I’m pretty sure gentlemen like this don’t have a lot of time for Facebook – or any “social media.”

I was told going into this meeting to expect only 30 minutes – but not to be surprised if I only get 10.  Which would mean he wasn’t impressed with the story.  Or me.  But frankly, I’m sure that he understands you can get a lot done in 30 minutes – as long as time isn’t wasted on pleasantries and inane small talk: “How ya’ doing.”  “Fine, how are you?”  “Yeah, good, me too.” 

When did you get into New York…” Blah, blah, blah.  So none of that, and after that firm handshake while looking me straight in the eye (don’t you hate it when a guy is looking at his shoes when shaking hands?), it was all business:

“How many shares outstanding?”

“Is that fully diluted?”

“How much cash?”

“Any debt?”

“Tell me why I should invest in your company?”

I don’t mean to imply he was rude.  To the contrary – he is a true gentleman.   He was simply direct.   But respectful, courteous, and attentive.  Not distracted.  Not glancing at his cell phone, or stealing peaks at a computer screen.  I had all his attention.  100%.  He understands the power of listening, not talking.  Especially not talking about himself.  He wasn’t there to impress me.  His only objective was to see if we might be an opportunity for him to make some money.  And opportunity in which he could add value – helping the company – while helping himself.  He asked good questions – the right questions.  So I kept talking, and he kept listening.  

I was inspired.  Here’s a man older than I am (that’s rare these days) with all the energy and passion of a 20-year old.  A man who has earned the respect of Wall Street, but keeps a modest office without the usual trappings and, as I mentioned, no staff.  A man of humility.  Of honor.  And integrity.

And it occurred to me how many more deals would get done – how much time would be saved – if we were all this direct and efficient in our business.  If we all said what we really thought – no agenda, no politics, no hedging.  No empty promises made with no intent to honor.   As I often tell people, “Look, you don’t have to protect my feelings.  A simple ‘no’ works just fine.”

So 45 minutes later I walked out of his office with an agreement to meet again in a couple weeks – and a promise that he’d make an introduction to the CEO of a company in his portfolio he thought might make a good partner for us.  A promise he had fulfilled within an hour of the end of our meeting.  

Did he invest?  Well, yes, and he became a real (not Facebook) friend.  But that wasn’t the point: I’m a better man for simply having met him.