Calling it Quits
Three founders share why they decided to close their companies
Over the past month or so, two client companies decided to stop working on their young ventures. They decided to do it while actively working on these companies’ ongoing concerns.
This may not seem like a big deal. But I’ve started a few companies. Some are still happily up and running. Others have officially closed for a variety of reasons. But then there are some in-betweens. Zombies. An idea that became a project, registered as a corporation, then lost steam so it lies there, dormant until it’s not so difficult to let it go.
That the two companies are closing is sad in the same way that any ending is sad. But the fact that they’ve done it while looking it straight in the face, acknowledging that it’s not working with practical sense and emotional maturity… well, it filled me with admiration.
Bolstered is an H.R. concierge concept and the first of the companies closing up shop. Co-founder Nikki sent me a message. We’d worked together to define a brand voice, look and feel — so she wanted to let me know of their decision. It was uncommonly frank and personal.
A short time later, Austin culture publication Conflict of Interest (Conflict), another project we branded, sent an invitation to the release event for the third and final issue of their print magazine.
The two closures got me thinking about the complicated relationship we (yes, the royal we) have with quitting. Or as my younger sister put it: “it’s just drilled into you, quitting makes you a quitter, a giver-upper.”
We have some absurd moralistic tropes about quitting. There are endless reasons to start a company or project. But it seems there’s only two valid reasons to stop: you’ve succeeded or you’re involuntarily forced to stop. It’s either crossing the finish line or game over.
For entrepreneurs, there’s an unspoken ‘code’: voluntarily stopping before the final outcome is hashed out is seldom taken as a sign of maturity. It’s almost taken as a moral failing. Even when continuing to try is blocking off better opportunities, or when you’re burning up resources when its clear things are not working.
I took my head full of questions back to the founders from both companies and (to my amazement) they all agreed to talk about their experiences as they wind down their operations. Bolstered founder Nikki Meo-King is interviewed below, followed by a joint interview with Conflict of Interest founders Thao Votang and Rebecca Marino.
Bolstered on making decisions before the deadline
Time and money are not the only resources to consider when evaluating whether a current project is still worthwhile. When a long-brewing prospect turned them down, Nikki Meo-King felt she had no more fight in her. So instead of waiting for a self-imposed end-of-2018 reevaluation, the co-founders convened and found they were both ready to let go.
Why did you decide to stop working on Bolstered?
Nikki Meo-King: After a year+ of working on Bolstered, we just weren’t making the type of progress we wanted to. On top of that. I found myself completing tasks to not let down my partner instead of actually wanting to work on that. I knew that my motivation for the idea had lessened and I didn’t have enough passion for the project to have it consume all of my time.
How did you come to the decision to close it? What factors played into making that decision?
NMK: After we got a “no” from a company we had been pitching for a while, it gave us time to reflect about moving forward. We just didn’t have another round of networking/outreach in us. The thought of pushing forward was tiring.
Was this final time the first time you discussed or considered closing Bolstered? If not, what was different then vs. now?
NMK: A few months before we officially decided to end it, we set the end of 2018 as a deadline to really make some progress. As the fall got closer, I realized that I didn’t want to keep working on. It was important for me to be up front with my partner about my feelings. Luckily, she was thinking the same thing so it made our decision much easier.
What’s been difficult about ending the project? What’s been easy? What’s been unexpected?
NMK: Once we made the decision it was easy — even a relief! I began looking forward to having a bit more free time and now it is exciting to entertain some thoughts on what my next venture is. I am also surprised at how instead of feeling frustrated with the failure, I feel like I have learned a ton and have some ideas on how I would do it differently next time around. It is almost a right of passage — to have a first failed venture under my belt.
I am surprised at how instead of feeling frustrated with the failure, I feel like I have learned a ton and have some ideas on how I would do it differently next time around. It is almost a rite of passage — to have a first failed venture under my belt.
Bolstered was not a full-time commitment for either founder. Do you feel that affected the decision to close from an emotional standpoint? How about from a practical perspective? If so, how?
NMK: Yes, I think it did. I knew if I stopped working on it then I would still have a paycheck and would not need to make any other family financial considerations. That being said, next time I launch a company, I will likely do it full time because it is just too hard to do two things well.
Conflict of Interest on how opportunity cost* is a moving target.
Conflict of Interest co-founders Thao Votang and Rebecca Marino share how shifting interests, circumstances and interests affected the ‘opportunity cost’ of working on this project and how they went about deciding to wind down the operation.
*Opportunity cost is “the loss of potential gain from other alternatives when one alternative is chosen.”
Why are you shutting down Conflict of Interest?
Thao Votang: I have been trying to organize my life in a way that helps me write in every way possible. At the beginning of Conflict of Interest (Conflict), I wanted to meet more writers in Austin and try my hand at reviewing books. Conflict really opened up a community of supportive writers to me and now all I really want to do is read and write! We worked on Conflict for three years, and I think that is a solid amount of time. The third year is the time to really think about the future of a project, and for me, I couldn’t see a future in it that didn’t take time away from my writing projects.
Rebecca Marino: Yea, it’s actually been over three years we’ve dedicated to this and it really just comes down to personal time constraints. We were running out of steam and it’s neither of our styles to half ass a project. It’s super tough feeling both exhausted from putting so much time into something but also really guilty for not being able to give it more. Thao and I both have different day jobs than when we started Conflict, and I’m also a visual artist and she’s also a fiction writer, and this was just starting to throw off the work/quality of life balance. I also don’t know if I’d say “shutting down” per se. The website will remain up and I really do hope that people will still refer to it as a useful resource and archive.
How did you come to the decision to close it? What factors played into making that decision?
TV: Time and guilt. In the last year or two (I mean, just look at our Twitter account!), I really wasn’t committed to producing the content necessary for an online publication. Due to many factors, I can’t sit on social media scheduling posts. It seemed disconnected and at the same time, too connected to the world and all of its dreariness. We also achieved goals that were important to us personally like bringing together our advisory council members. It was really nice to be something that fostered friendships that will (hopefully) produce some interesting collaborations and cross pollination in the community.
RM: Time and guilt for sure. Basically acknowledging all those things previously mentioned to one another and being in agreement about them.
“I don’t want to deal with student loans for the rest of my life, so I prefer to get paid for anything I write. So, yeah, there is a lot to consider.” — TV
What’s been difficult about ending the project? What’s been easy? What’s been unexpected?
TV: Difficult: Telling people in a way that isn’t fire and brimstone. Things seem particularly rocky in Austin for the arts community, so every shut-down seems like a blow. We didn’t want to add to the malaise, so we decided not to do a press release or any sort of hard announcement. Easy: Not worrying about what you are-not-but-could-be-doing for Conflict. Being able to spend an evening or two or three simply reading and not worrying about deadlines, images, or proofing. Unexpected: I already have thoughts of new projects to start that aren’t working on my novel, which goes to show how my mind is wired. But I really need to sit down and work on that novel.
RM: I agree, the most difficult has definitely been telling people and explaining why, but that it’s OK and that we’re OK and that everything’s OK, and the easiest part has been the significant decrease in workload. Nothing too unexpected on my end I don’t think. It’s all been very bittersweet.
“The decision to no longer continue has primarily been a practical one for me–it’s about knowing when to stop and move on.” — RM
There’s still some stuff to do before things are over-over. What, if anything, has changed in how you’re approaching remaining tasks and events? Does it feel different?
TV: The checklist is small, and it feels really great. I have a lot of closure about it and that’s due to honest conversations with Rebecca and the full and unflagging support of our advisory council. They are really fantastic people.
RM: Yeah, it’s not too much, and our approach to these last few things isn’t any different beyond approaching whilst also seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. I guess it’s just nice to feel like you’re about to complete a thing, end a nice chapter. I think we both feel really good about what we’ve accomplished. We have 3 big beautiful books and a community that we feel super supported by–not much more we could ask for.
“It’s just nice to feel like you’re about to complete a thing, end a nice chapter. I think we both feel really good about what we’ve accomplished.” -RM
Conflict of Interest was not a full-time commitment for either of you. Do you feel that affected the decision to close from an emotional standpoint? How about from a practical perspective? If so, how?
TV: Yes to both because I don’t approach anything in my life from one and not the other. I started to have all this guilt because I wasn’t throwing 150% into the project because my day job became more emotionally and physically taxing. I also really want to write, and I want to enjoy my life (we only get one go, after all). I spend the first four months of the year writing 40K words, and I really didn’t produce much for Conflict (sorry, Rebecca!). I started playing tennis twice a week, and at some point, I made this spreadsheet allocating all of my time. That outlined life for me in a real/strange way. I sleep a lot, maybe if I didn’t sleep all the time, I could do it all. But that’s not very healthy and if I’m sick all the time that’s going to decrease my writing time. I’m also in my thirties, and I forced myself to really look at my student loan and financial situation. I don’t want to deal with student loans for the rest of my life, so I prefer to get paid for anything I write. So, yeah, there is a lot to consider.
RM: Haha, well, maybe not a full-time commitment, but it was a full-on commitment for sure. Even a small publication like ours has taken a lot of time and energy, so I’ve always felt a pretty strong emotional investment in CoI. It’s a very vulnerable thing to consistently put your writing out into the world and to try and cultivate a platform that people will care about (you can only hope). The decision to no longer continue has primarily been a practical one for me–it’s about knowing when to stop and move on.
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