What’s an Intrapreneur, and How to Be One

The word intrapreneur is on virtually all my social profiles and personal marketing materials. People often think it’s a typo. “Don’t you mean entrepreneur?” they ask.

No (though outside of 9 to 5 I’ve been that too, as the owner of two businesses — one that works for startups and small businesses, and another that sells my husband’s art).

The next question is usually, “What’s an intrapreneur? What did you mean by that?”

Dictionary.com defines an intrapreneur as: “an employee of a large corporation who is given freedom and financial support to create new products, services, systems, etc., and does not have to follow the corporation’s usual routines or protocols.”

Other than the part about limitless budgets, that pretty much describes how I’ve spent the last six years—as an energetic rogue operative leading change for an internal startup within a large organization, which by nature had its share of established protocols, hierarchies and procedures.

I’m at the point in my career where I’m fine with admitting I’m not much for rules and procedures. Obedience and deference to authority are not my thing. This is partly the result of controlling parents and partly due to 16 years of private-schooling that spoiled me into believing I had the power to achieve anything I want regardless of obstacles.

Thus I was comfortable being an idealist with big and future-forward ideas that through some loophole had the potential to come to fruition for the benefit of an institution, if I could play the game of human chess strategically within the organization to successfully operationalize them.

And usually I could.

I’ve taken on projects such as running brand-new conferences, operationalizing never-been-done-before ideas, project-managing the redesign websites or the build of new apps, working with a new cross-disciplinary team few non-creatives could understand; and helping to develop new programs and syllabi on short notice.

As an intrapreneur, I’ve never said, “That’s not in my job description” or “You’ll have to check with my supervisor.”

When approached with a project, I just said yes. And I figured it out.

Colleagues sometimes thought that in doing things beyond my role, I was taken advantage of, but I see it differently.

I said yes partly to relieve the boredom of a stable job, in which it would be very easy to get complacent in the safe predictability or status of one’s rank.

Though tempted, I learned I’m not the type to work the same job day in day out for the rest of my life just to collect a paycheck and a pension. I have no illusions that I’ll actually get what I’m promised for my efforts. Anyone’s 401K could be wiped out in the next stock market crash, and I don’t need Social Security’s trustees to tell me my generation will never see social security. But I digress.

For better or worse, I’ve managed to avoid having children and buying houses, gadgets and shoes I can’t afford, so I don’t need perfectly predictable income. I never plan to retire — what would I do? More than six years is nearly twice the time I spent at my longest job prior, and that’s only because my supervisors were smart enough to keep changing my role to keep me interested: Create a new initiative. Manage a new project. Move us past a roadblock. This is your mission, and it may piss off the establishment. Ooh, count me in!

But there’s an advantage to taking on these risky missions. Every time you say yes to a new project, you acquire new skills — skills your colleagues (including those who reject projects before you ultimately accept them) don’t get. There aren’t many ways to eek extra compensation out of a stable real job, but learning new skills that are worth more than you’re being paid at the time is one of them. If you’re not afraid to take them elsewhere, they’re a bonus you can cash in later.

My reputation as an intrapreneur means I’m the one you call when you want to launch something — a project or program — that’s never been done before. Often there are parameters or objectives, but no roadmap. That’s where an intrapreneur comes in, to navigate the ambiguity.

Intrapreneurs need to be comfortable with ambiguity, and that’s not an easy-to-find skill. But in today’s world, what in life is certain?

An intrapreneur is like an understudy (another role I’ve thrived in) — someone who isn’t afraid to do something and fail, or to not be quite as good as the professional who does something for a living. Which is why I accepted a role temporarily filling the shoes of a well-loved professor after his retirement. I will never live up to his legacy. But I’ll get the job done. And my own brand will be stronger for it.

As I teach my students about media entrepreneurship this semester, I will also teach them about intrapreneurship, its more lucrative and cushy cousin.

They may ask me, “don’t you mean entrepreneurship?”

No, I’ll answer. Intrapreneurship is a safe(r) way to practice entrepreneurship, from inside an organization. And if entrepreneurship scares the hell out of you, yet you want to create meaningful change in an industry, intrapreneurship may be your middle ground. It’s like entrepreneurship, with health insurance.

“But what does an intrapreneur do?” they will surely ask.

I will tell them that an intrapreneur works with lots of stakeholders in a legacy organization (such as the media corporations we’ll be focusing on in our class). They bring people from disparate walks and chains of command together toward a goal that is ambitious and riddled with uncertainty.

An intrapreneur convinces people within an established organization that a progressive, scary idea with high potential ROI is both possible and worthwhile, and leads their organization fearlessly into new territory one step at a time.

Childhood has lots to teach us about intrapreneurship, starting with: You’re never going to get everything you want if you tell people what that is all at once, and it’s radically different from what you have now. Never, for instance, ask your parents for $100. Ask for $20 a week for five weeks. Once they give in once, there’s a precedent. You’ve lowered resistance. Acquiescence becomes routine.

The same applies to the “system” at your workplace. (Yes, “the man” does exist, and you will probably work for him at some point.) You will have opposition. “That’s never been done before. There are rules explicitly prohibiting it.” Etc. Etc.

That’s where you summon your inner chess player and war strategist. Don’t telegraph your endgame. People will know where to throw the roadblocks. Ask for something on the road to your goal. Obtain permission to make one seemingly insignificant change on the long road to progress. Choose something there’s no specific rule against. Do that successfully; document and share your success. Then ask for the next compromise. And the next one. And so on. That’s how institutional change happens.

Things rarely change from one state to their polar opposite, no matter how inspiring their champion. Change happens in increments that are either imperceptible or merely palatable. One by one these changes move us from the state of things before and the state after.

The thankless person who drags people across this divide is called an intrapreneur. Nice work, if you can get it.

Elizabeth Mays is a recent-former academic turned small business owner and marketing/operations director for technology companies.