Published in the San Diego Union-Tribune, July 7, 2025
by Neil Senturia
t is the dog days of summer for venture capitalists. They can’t decide — Hamptons or Marbella. My “VC whisperer” thinks they should go as far away as they can — where their limited partners can’t find them.
Carta reports, “Only 54% of 2018 funds have returned any money to their limited partners.” As in not much soup for you. For 2019 and 2020 vintage funds, the number is approximately 35%. Which means that 65% of those funds are trying to explain why there is no soup for anyone.
If you ask, their answer is that it takes a long time to make soup while they are feverishly looking for a match to light the IPO wet wood so they can at least start a fire to boil the water.
I saw a survey recently. When they asked 10 VCs if they would rather be a VC or a founder/operator, 11 of them chose founder.
If raising a fund and making a few bets and then waiting 10 years to see if the soup is ready is your best idea of how to get rich, probably better to just go to Gelson’s and buy a can of Campbell’s chicken noodle.
Which brings us to our intrepid entrepreneur. Riches might await, but so do pitfalls. Allow me.
My little AI company is facing a classic one. When is it done? Not almost, not 94% MVP, but when is it done — and what does done look like?
I turn to Brené Brown, author of “Atlas of the Heart: Mapping Meaningful Connection and the Language of Human Experience.” Her most compelling and famous concept is “painting done.”
She says the leader must explain to the team the full list of expectations, what the completed task will look like, the costs associated with finishing it, including when will it be done, how will it be used, the consequences of not doing it, and the risks of not finishing.
Done and done is never going to happen if the CEO fails to communicate clearly what a finished product looks like.
You can’t keep changing your mind or moving the goal posts or adding to the deliverables or the specification road map. Google Maps work best with a properly selected final destination.
With my limited technical skills, I once put in an address (was thinking apple pie), and I neglected to make clear which state I was in, and I got directions for 2,390 miles to Julian, N.C.
If you keep constantly reworking and revising, you often end up having to retrace the exact wrong road you just covered. Notwithstanding those three letters, CEO, it is still a good idea to appoint someone else to hold you accountable, like getting fitted for one of those jackets with the very long arms that can be tied together.
Brown talks about not only explaining what painting done means, but also “why” the company is using cadmium yellow. How the finished painting is supposed to fit into the bigger frame of the company. Explain not only the goal, but also the end game — as in who is going to use this product and why are they going to love it. She is adamant about avoiding misunderstandings and confusion. I have a personal way of dealing with that. I repeat myself a few times. I say the same thing in a few different ways, more than once, repetition for effect. I try to make sure my teammates know exactly what painting done means.
The absolute best way to achieve the desired result — oh, you wanted robin’s egg blue and I thought you meant navy blue — is to collaborate and discuss in advance. Maybe get a color chart.
Now, a modest confession. The leader also needs to understand that it takes time to apply the paint and that it may require several coats and multiple brushes. Then you have to wait for the paint to dry.
That last one requires patience. That particular skill set is still a work in progress. Don’t touch yet, you will smudge it.
My wife, Ms. Bry, always wants me to put in the coordinates before I leave the driveway. Ridiculous. It’s only a few right turns, I’ve got this.
Rule No. 797: I said Pablo Picasso. You sent me Jackson Pollock.