Dear Prince, You Are Not The Founder
Donât get burnt by the âAct Like a Founderâ advice.
Startup VPs last less than two years on average.
Some donât even make nine months before burnout, politics, or a founderâs âvision realignmentâ boots them out. Thinking of jumping from corporate to startup? Know the game.
Startups love preaching âact like a founder.â
Noble. Inspiring. Total BS. Youâre not the prince. Youâre not the founder.
In the 16th century, Machiavelli wrote The Prince as a guide to power. And if you think your startup job comes with shared power, youâre already losing the game.
Startups are not democracies
The biggest mistake ambitious operators make?
Thinking startups are meritocracies. Theyâre dictatorships. Because founders donât share the throne. They consolidate power. They donât want a rival. They want executors who move fast. Miss that, and youâre outmaneuvered before lunch. Founders grip power because they own the risk, dictate the vision, and play the long game.
And when youâre stuck in startup chaos, decision paralysis can kill your momentum.
Harvard research found 65% of startup failures stem from internal conflicts.
Too many wannabe rulers, not enough real execution. This is why the best startup operators donât fight for the throne. They learn how to play the game.
Machiavelli warned too many princes results in chaos. Startup operators join with grand titles such as Head of Growth, VP of Whatever. They assume theyâll shape the company, set the vision, lead strategy.
Instead, they learn strategy is locked down. Get distracted by politics, and someone else takes your seat. It happens in small startups and billion-dollar companies alike.
And when companies expand internationally, the politics, misalignment, and operational chaos only get worse.
Controls the story, control the kingdom
Look at WeWork.
Adam Neumann ran it like his own personal empire.
Bad decisions.
Wild spending.
Total collapse.
Some decisions were borderline delusional, and it all went down in a glorious flameout.
But when the dust settled? Neumann walked away rich.
Meanwhile, the âHeads of Xâ were left with worthless stock and crushed IPO dreams.
Why?
Because the founder always controls the narrative. The employees? Just collateral damage.
It happens everywhere, not just in billion-dollar startups. I learned this lesson the hard way.
The moment I realized I didnât own strategy
I walked into a startup thinking Iâd help steer the ship.
A month in, I found myself in a cramped meeting room, about to present the killer marketing strategy Iâd spent all week working on.
Turns out, I was just another deckhand.
I had the experience. The strategy. The plan.
The founderâs reaction?
Total rejection.
Because I wasnât hired to set the vision. I was hired to execute someone elseâs vision.
At first, I fought it. Why bring me in if I donât own strategy?
But once I stopped fighting for control and started executing like hell, my influence skyrocketed. Go figure.
Machiavelli would approve. Because in power games, control goes to the one who moves the pieces best.
How I changed my execution style
Having bills to pay and no plan B is as good a motivator as any.
In corporate, I had
Big budgets, near-total autonomy
Long timelines (sometimes years)
Agencies handling the heavy creative lifting
In a startup:
Zero cushion, minimal support
Lightning-fast decisions
Scrappy go-to-market over polished campaigns
It forced me to redefine âexecutionâ. No more waiting for perfect data or elaborate playbooks. I learned to ship fast, adapt faster, and prioritize outcomes over appearances. Plus, when youâre heads-down delivering, thereâs no time for office politics.
Play the game, not the founder
Every startup has a wannabe emperor. A VP who thinks they run product, marketing, and HR. They never last long.
The smartest operators?
They donât fight for strategy.
They master execution.
They make themselves indispensable.
They donât argue about the vision. They make it happen. But startup CMOs? Most burn out in under a year.
And when you deliver results that keep the castle standing?
Suddenly, you hold real power.
While the founder juggles fundraising nightmares or borderline-insane product pivots, you can score quick wins, chase down key accounts, or ship features ahead of schedule.
And if youâre launching a new product, avoiding common launch failures can be the difference between success and total disaster.
Ironically, thatâs when you start earning influence.
What actually works
Strategyâs off-limits. Focus on what you can control. Donât resist the founderâs vision; make it happen faster than they expected. Nobody cares about your title. And let your team own the day-to-day while you execute upward.
Stop fighting for the throne and start executing like hell.
Machiavelli warned
"There is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things."
Founders hold onto control because thatâs what keeps the castle from crumbling.
You can fight them for the crown or be the weapon they canât win without.
Less glamorous? Sure.
But infinitely more powerful.
So, dear prince. Stay in your lane. Dominate it.
See you out there.
Martin
P.S. This week's soundtrack "Seven Nation Army" by The White Stripes






Well saidâŚtotal BS
This is one of the realest takes on startup dynamics. Everyone wants to "act like a founder" until they realize founders donât share power, they consolidate it. Harvardâs 65% startup failure rate due to internal conflicts should be a wake-up call. Thanks for another great piece, Martin.