I’ve tried both failure and success. When I built my first startup Human Zoo, everything went well until 2001 — at which point we lost our largest customer and shortly after, ran out of money. I was probably too young to run a company, too inexperienced and I made a lot of mistakes along the way for sure but I tried and I fought hard but it didn’t help. In 2001 we were out of options, we couldn’t extend credit or raise new funding and so there was only one option: bankruptcy.

Well that’s part of startup life, right? Just go out and try again?

Not quite. See I lived in Denmark and in Denmark you don’t just go bankrupt. It haunted me for 10 years, not just financially, but also mentally. People I knew would avoid me, my parents would avoid talking about it at parties, I was branded a failure. Even 10 years later, running Tradeshift, I would still get skeptical questions that referred to those early days.

But this is not really a story about me. Instead it’s about something fundamentally wrong with Danish startup culture — or maybe just Danish culture. We don’t celebrate success; we just see it as a failure waiting to happen and when people fail, we can’t wait to kick them when they’re down.

Recently, my friends at AppHarbor had to make a tough move: close down their Danish branch with three employees or close down the entire company. They were still growing, had an increasing customer base and revenue stream, but it was just wasn’t happening fast enough and they soon knew they would run out of money before reaching break-even.

They made a very tough move; they made the Danish branch go bankrupt, even though the employees offered to work for free (under Danish employment law, employees would not be protected  in such a case.) The result was that the Danish authorities (by extension tax payers), other Danish companies collectively got stuck picking up the bill of 3 months pay for the developers and some creditors are owed money.

Was this a pretty move? No. Does this move have some bad karma? Yes. Did they somewhat exploit the system? Yes. But did they save their company? Yes!

What happened next was unfortunately predictable: the Danish startup scene exploded with scorn. The co-founder of 23 Video wrote this blog post, quoting:

“but it’s a symptom of a problem, a symptom of startup chic infecting us. There is honor and character in how we succeed and how we fail, and AppHarbor reflects poorly on the Danish startup community.”

The CTO of another Danish startup (who just got funded through Dave McClure’s 500 Strong – which I think is awesome) wrote this post , which I’m quoting from too:

Rumours had been going around for a while before this, that the heavily funded Y-Combinator alumni company, who’re supposed to be the Heroku of .NET, was not doing as well as expected. This is probably in part caused by the fact that selling hip cloud services to the enterprise, which traditionally uses .NET and Java based solutions, is a little more difficult than selling a hosted Ruby on Rails environment to young developers without a mortgage and thus also no concept of risk aversion — or “nobody ever got fired for buying IBM equipment.” 

It’s interesting that it’s not outsiders, or even journalists ripping AppHarbor apart. In fact, not even the employees that were fired (who offered to work for free, because they believe in the idea) but fellow startup founders.

Nick basically states that he never believed in their business model and always found it hard to see how they would succeed. Steffen, who is a co-founder himself, called them “startup-chic”.  There seems to be a good portion of jealousy at play here, with telltale use of phrases like “heavily funded.” Since when has 1.4M USD meant strongly funded?

This is Danish culture at play at its worst. Yes, they fucked up. They know it. But they are not fucking “start-up chic”, in fact I would go as far and say they are more real than most Danish startups.

They went to San Francisco without any money, shared a crappy apartment for 6 months without visas and coded like mad. They have built a platform that is amazing from a technical perspective and they have users who love them. They got into YC! because they were good and willing to take a HUGE risk personally. They bet everything on their dream.

I wonder how many of the armchair founders that are now calling them startup-chic (or expected them to fail) have ever have taken a similar personal risk? Or if they have, how come they suddenly forgot how it was…

In my opinion Nick & Steffen and the others ripping at AppHarbor don’t get it. Yes, it was not a good move, it was not a nice move, it was not the ethically cleanest move — it was the ONLY fucking move they had and they took it. There is no honor in failing. It’s always brutal, messy and dirty and everyone who thinks differently has never tried it.

To quote Ben Horowitz, from “The Struggle”:

You think you have no moves? How about taking your company public with $2M in trailing revenue and 340 employees, with a plan to do $75M in revenue the next year? I made that move. I made it in 2001, widely regarded as the worst time ever for a technology company to go public. I made it with six weeks of cash left. There is always a move.

I don’t expect journalists to understand this, or anybody in a normal job, but I’m sad that fellow founders don’t get it. This will never be a real community if we turn on each other at the first sign of trouble.

So today the internet went on strike – for good reason. Stupid politicians are trying to censor the internet in the name of protection against piracy (not the pirates who kill people off the coast of Africa, but the geeks with glasses who download illegal files in the basement). Not only is the attempted legislation of SOPA and PIPA stupid because of the potential for abuse of censorship, but it also opens the very scary possibility of having trade wars online, where US companies ask to have global competitors blocked or banned, and vice versa.

So we all agree that SOPA and PIPA are bad, they suck and they should go away.

But I still have a bad taste in my mouth about some of the protests, to the point of agreeing with Paul Carr when he says that it’s silly of Wikipedia to go dark to protest about local US legislation. The reason is simple: SOPA is far from the first legislation implementing DNS-blocking globally (this has even been removed from SOPA). Where were Wikipedia and Google when seven European countries implemented similar legislation? Now the Americans will of course say, silly European – why don’t you get your own companies to protest? But here’s the problem: for a protest to have any kind of effect, it would need to include companies that consumers use every day, and they are – at least on the surface – American right now. Unfortunately, SAP, Spotify and Just-Eat haven’t done much to combat European censorship, and even if they did, I’m afraid it would not make many dents in Fortress Europe when it comes to censorship and DNS blocking.

That’s why Google and Wikipedia suck, because even if they are US-based, they should realise that they have a global reach and responsibility. Don’t get me wrong; I’m very happy that they are doing something: I just wish they had done more, and earlier. We will not gain a free internet just by winning the fight in the US, and that is why it’s hypocrisy when Wikipedia goes black when the US implements SOPA, but didn’t do so when Denmark started blocking foreign betting sites. It is especially dangerous behaviour for a site that is being relied on by users from around the whole world to be neutral: today’s move has shown that these sites are, first and foremost, US organisations.

Nevertheless, we have to start somewhere, and the lack of action previously should not stop us from doing something now. I just wish that these organisation would step up again when censorship is enacted in Germany, Denmark or China, or we will lose Wikipedia for real, because we won’t trust its neutrality.

Personally, I will start by bringing this topic to the table when I meet Neelie Kroes, the EU Vice-President and Commissioner for the Digital Agenda in two weeks’ time as part of a young advisors panel.

That said, happy internet strike day!

Recently Michael Arrington wrote a very open blog post about being fat and wanting to do something about it, which really struck me. He was inspired by the scientific approach of one of the characters in Neal Stephenson’s Reamde, who uses a treadmill while working. The post struck me not just because of Arrington’s honesty about his own challenges, but also because I remember reading the book and having exactly the same reaction. This was really smart, and finally the blog post stuck me, because I’m fat—and, worse than that, I’m fat and smart.

Most people assume being smart and fat are opposites; in fact, you often hear overweight associated with stupidity, which makes it an even bigger taboo to talk about. I’m not fat because I’m stupid; I’m fat because I obsess about things to an extreme degree. In fact, I’m anything but stupid, having started three companies since I was 19, becoming the youngest ever Head of Division in the Danish Government – responsible for the Danish IT infrastructure when I was 30 – and later starting Tradeshift and taking it from 3 to 67 people in under two years. I should by now have proved that I’m anything but stupid; but I obsess, and that can be a problem.

When I do something, I do it to the exclusion of everything else in my life: the only thing in focus is the project – the goal. That is what makes me a great, but also quite uncompromising, person to be around; I just keep trying, keep attacking, keep finding a way to succeed with whatever I’m doing. The only rule is that it has to pique my interest; if it doesn’t, I will never, ever obsess about it and will rarely succeed. If I do obsess, well, then I succeed—every time. Unfortunately, my body has never been one of those things: it has, more than anything, been a victim of my other obsession with trying to change the world (like a lot of other people, family and so on) unfortunately overweight is seen as a sign of low intelligence in most societies today and I have often seen people judge me by my size before they know me, in fact one of the small joys I have is the advantage you can get just because people instinctively think that fat = stupid. That should of course not be understood as me wanting to be fat or that I don’t care about the negative consequences, it’s just that when I obsess about a something I shut everything else out.

That kind of obsession is great when you are trying to build a company—maybe even a requirement: you need to be able to focus to the exclusion of everything else or you will have a very hard time succeeding against the odds. So what to do? For me, the revelation came with the same book that inspired Arrington, but in a different way: for me, it was about the feedback loops. In Tradeshift, one of the things I obsess about is our data; we have data dashboards creating very visual feedback loops on how we are doing, and suddenly, after reading Reamde, I was curious: could I do the same thing for my body? After all, the body is an organic thing, which unfortunately is not built with a set of Bluetooth sensors, but I started researching what was possible today (and, yes, started to obsess a little bit).

Within a week, I found that there were gadgets that could wirelessly monitor and measure my weight, steps, blood pressure and sleep, and finally I needed a way to monitor what I ate. For that I picked WeightWatchers after reading a Wired article about the science behind points. In other words, I suddenly had complete data tracking on everything I did, and it instantly changed my behavior. I can’t wait to get up and exercise in the morning to see if there is an effect on my blood pressure or weight, and I’m curious as to how altering my diet will affect my BMI; and suddenly I can monitor this in near real time.

This made me think… I suspect we are on the verge of a revolution. These tools seem to be only the beginning: What if food could report wirelessly its exact composition in the supermarket? What if we could monitor every aspect of our health 24/7? I know a lot of stuff is already going on in this field, and it’s not my area of expertise, but my instinct tells me that this could be an even bigger revolution than the transformation that tech has made to information and knowledge over the last 10 years, all fuelled by the ability to have computers everywhere in the form of smartphones.

Anyway, if nothing else, next time you see a fat guy or girl, don’t think ‘stupid’; they might just be focusing their energy another way than you are.

The other day we were interviewing a great new software developer for our marketing team, Denica, when I asked if she had any questions, she said, “I would really like to work for a startup and I’m unsure I will fit into a big company like Tradeshift”.

I yelled, “We are a startup!” and then I realized – we certainly don’t look like it.

We have four floors in the centre of Copenhagen. Nice desks, furniture – we are comfortable. In Danish you would say it’s “hyggeligt”, which means something like cozy.

It scared the shit out of me. Being from a nation where government welfare is the default, a nanny state, I can see how “hygge” can kill any startup. The reality is that Tradeshift is still very much a startup: we might look like a real company, but underneath that very nice and well-marketed exterior is a fragile being in its most dangerous state – “a startup looking like a real company”.

This is the state where new hires might not know the difference between a startup and the former companies they worked at if someone didn’t tell them. Two years ago it was self-evident that we were a startup from the simple fact that we were sitting in a garage freezing our asses off as we could choose between running the heater or having power for our laptops and Internet (no we did not choose warmth); back then we were never in doubt what was next, because everything was on fire and nothing worked – we worked like maniacs and loved every second of it, we were not afraid of anyone and we had nothing to lose.

As your company grows, you can’t help loosing a little bit of that feeling, you hire managers, create new processes and just settle into certain ways of “doing stuff” and suddenly before you realize it you look like a real corporation not a startup, but you are not, the investors still expect extreme growth and that you disrupt something, comfortable people don’t disrupt. But more than I believe that most existing management methods are not scalable to the hyper scale required for fast growing startups, classic command & control just breaks down when scaling fast.

So what do you do?

At Tradeshift we specifically try to counter becoming too corporate by disrupting our own organization continuously.

As we grew we knew we had to do something to keep the startup feeling alive. We introduced some simple concepts to fight the corporatification and make sure we keep the best from the early days.

1)        Break the pattern: every three months we have our Tradeshift team camp, which is a crazy experience of 48 hours non-stop work on new concepts, strategies and ideas combined with plenty of beer and lack of sleep – in short original startup-life simulation.

2)        Piracy is expected: we try to drill into anyone that we expect them to be pirates and make decisions they think are right first, and ask later. I believe in hiring really great people, giving them a direction and then letting them run as fast as they can.

3)        Accelerate the problems: challenges are good and comfort isn’t; if we are becoming too comfortable I try to break something, typically by overloading it. We just told our sales team that there are no limits to how much they can sell in 2012, knowing that the rest of the organization still don’t have a clue how we will deliver, but in the end I know they prefer the challenge to boredom.

If you can keep your organization challenged, breaking the patterns and encouraging piracy I think you can postpone the inevitable growing up (at least for a little while).

Now I can’t wait till Denica experiences her first team camp in December and hopefully learns that we are still very much a startup.

But just to be sure, I did this presentation at our last company wide meeting.

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