Ownership Mentality: Aligning the Professional and Personal
Riskpulse — the company I co-founded 12 years ago this August, recently announced a partnership with the largest managed services logistics firm in North America. With this, the analytic I conjured — the Riskpulse Score, or RpS (think, a FICO score for shipping) will be used to optimize the movement of tens of millions of shipments annually, or roughly $400B worth of cargo.
It’s a crazy thing, really. An idea imagined on my living room sofa — “what if … ?” — is now being used by thousands of skilled humans — and many server instances, to guide the transportation of goods ranging from Hellmann’s to Budweiser to salt to Accords.
It’s gratifying proof that after 10 years of hustle — six of it in the manufacturing space, Riskpulse has broken irreversibly into the Fortune 1000; not through the funded purchase of attention or PR fanfare — as the flood of venture capital into the sector has made common, but through an earned reputation of delivering on our promises; of doing what we said we were going to do. The same kinds of guarantees our customers make when shipping their own, physical goods.
Removed, but likely not far from one of those shipments, I sit and type this reflection on the MacBook Pro provided by the idea that became a company, all the while hoping the butterfly keyboard resists the urge to ingest any of the pollen floating off this soccer field — a field my daughter criss-crosses.
By design, this is a much different seat than I occupied two years ago. Then, I was CEO, strategic account lead, business development lead, as-needed product designer, and chief marketer. By the middle of 2017, 10 years in, I had long since passed the technical mantle to our CTO, customer success to a team led by industry veterans in professional services, and data science to a talented, hype-free magician.
Still, it was crazy at work. And it was crazy at home, too. At least, my extended home. My father passed away of cancer in July of that year, after 53 days in the ICU, 1,300 miles away. It would be too easy to say that trauma was a turning point, and it sells the intensity short. But it is as they say — nothing compares to the view from the front of the queue, that place you find yourself when a little “d.” gets post-fixed to your parent’s name.
Our children too, all 4 of them, are incapable of waiting to grow up. Perhaps because we all experience it first-hand first, doctors forget to remind us that the S-curve on our child’s growth chart applies to their minds, not just their heights and weights. That thing you talked about 12 months ago? It now feels as distant and irrelevant as 10 years ago. Things really do become “so last week” in a hurry.
In 2018, I decided to make changes.
Our COO took over account leadership and project management. Then, on a warm introduction, I recruited a Chief Strategy Officer. Title aside, his role would be taking over all sales and business development activities — qualification, pipeline management, negotiations.
After a year of working next to me, with the board’s approval, I decided to ask him to become our CEO. He accepted, then pushed in the clutch, upshifting and formalizing the business into a series of components.
I let go of the wheel. By the end of 2018, my role had narrowed to vital relationships with anchor clients and strategic prospects, and, ironically — far at the other end of the sales process — initial demos.
One more veteran hire — with recruitment led by my replacement, and …
… by the time the press release announcing Riskpulse’s new milestone hit the news wire, I had arrived at an uncommon definition of success: I had worked and recruited myself out of every job at my own company. My calendar, once occupied by 8–10 meetings per day, was now intentionally empty, save a few perfunctory handovers.
My team and board have been nothing but supportive. Being proactive about my own succession has enabled a transition that has accelerated, rather than hindered, progress. For me, it was a no-brainer: yes, I am a founder; yes, I was the CEO, and of course I was an employee; but first and foremost … I am, and always have been, an owner. Through those eyes, it’s easy to agree with the founder: this change is good.
How do I feel? A bit nervous? Maybe. Surreal? Yes, at times. But overall, it does feel good. Good to have had these 12 years — of memories, experiences, and hard —my goodness sometimes very, very hard — lessons. As such, it’s also good that I will stay involved, as a guide, board member, and evangelist.
As for all that empty time on the calendar?
When I’m not reflecting … I’m filling it with code.
Thanks for reading. You can follow me on my next adventure here or on twitter.
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