Published in the San Diego Union-Tribune, July 13, 2026
by Neil Senturia
An old friend, whom I once helped significantly, asks if I will meet with him and a “Chinese billionaire.” They want to build something big and important involving batteries.
I know nothing about batteries, other than when my flashlight stops working. Five people show up. I am very clear; I am currently retired from investing. But I am good to listen. The Chinese gentleman makes batteries in China, lots of them. He is one of the largest manufacturers of backup battery systems for cell towers and other critical infrastructure. OK, what was the problem?
America can only use batteries for “critical infrastructure” that are made in this country under strict review and control. It took 32 minutes of my probing before they could clearly articulate why a plant needed to be built in America and perhaps here in San Diego. The point of the story is the need to deliver the infamous elevator pitch. I was generous of spirit, but you don’t normally get 30 minutes to tell your story.
Now the confession. In my previous AI company, we were asked by multiple investors and potential customers what problem do we solve and why you need our software. And we never were able to say it in one sentence. We fooled ourselves into believing that because our software was so cool, could do so many things, that of course we would need at least 15 minutes to explain the value and the features that were so desperately needed by you.
Wrong. If you can’t boil it down to a couple of sentences, then you do not know why you are in that room or on that call or in that meeting. Simple as that. As I retire into consulting, my appetite for a 2-week-old baguette masquerading as sliced bread is low.
At numerous pitchfests, the founder gets one to two minutes to tell the story. That is hard to do. I listen closely and when she/he is done, often I cannot tell you exactly what the company does. It is possible I am dumb as a rock, but it is also possible that their story was not clear and concise.
Now the fishhook. When you start a project or a company, before you go pitch for money or mis- believe that if you build it, they will come, before all that, can you look in a mirror and in two sentences tell yourself the foundational reason that this adventure needs to begin and why someone will care (other than your loving mother).
My bride, Ms. Bry, and I recently attended the Connect Summer Social at Coastal Roots Farm in Encinitas. Several folks came up to us and lamented that venture funding in San Diego is so sparse compared to the Bay Area.
That topic has been debated and discussed since Connect was started in 1985. When the answer is discovered, dinosaurs will walk the Earth again. Don’t misunderstand me, San Diego has some funding, particularly in biotech, but it pales in contrast to Silicon Valley.
Still, be careful what you wish for; you may get it.
Meet the “zombie unicorn,” a phrase coined by The Economist in an article that dissects the landscape in Silicon Valley. Fabulous valuations a year ago that are being crushed as these once “hot” companies seek another round of funding, which is not showing up as hyped or hoped.
Sunk costs meet unrealistic expectations. Hello, down round. Cameo, a video platform where celebrities give personal greetings, was valued at $1 billion in 2021. Today, it is raising money at an $82 million valuation. “Do you know who we are?”
One answer to the venture San Diego puzzle is this sentence from the same Economist article. “Just 5% of VC firms produce 90% of the industry profits.”
Oh yes, we know who you are.
My personal takeaway is that the startup game and how it is played must change. A bit of the greater fool theory has been at play, and the concept of cash-flow-positive might make a favorable return.
The get big and go big and raise and spend a ton of dough may only work in a few categories. We all know that Anthropic (all of them) subsidizes the token cost. Lose money but gain market share. Ever play musical chairs?
Rule No. 832: The Zombie unicorn apocalpyse– grab a seat and some popcorn.