Why Aren’t Investment Theses Hyper-Specific?

As a result of my commitment to provide feedback for every founder who wants a second (or third) pair of eyes on their pitch deck, I’ve been jumping on 30-minute to 1-hour calls with folks. Although I’ve had this internal commitment ever since I started in venture, I didn’t vocalize it until earlier this year. And you know, realistically, this is not gonna scale well… at all. But hey, I’ll worry about that bridge when I cross it.

Something I noticed fairly recently, which admittedly may partly be confirmation bias ever since I became cognizant of it, is that there have been a significant number of founders currently fundraising who complain to me about:

1. Many VCs don’t have their investment thesis online/public.
2. Of those that are, VCs have “too broad” of a thesis.

So, it got me thinking and asking some colleagues. And I will be the first to admit this is all anecdotal, limited by the scope of my network. But it makes sense. That said, if you think I missed, overlooked, over- or underestimated anything, let me know.

The Exclusionary Biases

By virtue of specificity, you are, by definition, excluding some population out there. For example, in focusing only on potential investments in the Bay, you are excluding everyone else outside or can’t reach the Bay in one way or another. Here’s another. Let’s say you look for founders that are graduates from X, Y, or Z university. You are, in effect, excluding graduates from other schools, but also, those who haven’t graduated or did not have the opportunity to graduate at all.

The seed market example

Here’s one last one. This is more of an implicit specificity around the market. The (pre-) seed market is designed for largely two populations of founders:

1. Serial entrepreneurs, who’ve had at least one exit;
2. And, single-digit (or low double) employees of wildly successful ventures.

Why? You, as a founder, are at a stage where you have yet to prove product-market fit. Sometimes, not even traction to back it up. And when you’re unable to play the numbers game (like during the stages at the A and up), VCs are betting on the you and your team. So, to start off, we (and I say that because I’ve been guilty of overemphasizing this before) look into your background.

• What did your professional career look like before this?
• Do you have the entrepreneurial bone in your body?
• How long have you spent in the idea maze?
  • Here’s some context of what the idea maze might look like in another post I wrote.

The delta between a good investor and a great investor

Let’s say an investor were to be approached by two founders with the exact same product, almost identical team, same amount of traction, same years of experience, and let’s, for argument’s sake, have spent the same number of years contemplating the problem, but the only difference is where they came from. One is a first-time founder from [insert corporate America]. The other is the 5th employee of X amazing startup. Many VCs I’ve talked with would and have defaulted on the latter. And the answer is reinforced if the latter is a founder with an exit.

The question wasn’t made to be fair. And, it’s not fair. To the VCs’ credit, their job is to de-risk each of their investments. Or else, it’d be gambling. One way to do so is to check the founder’s professional track record. But the delta here that differentiates the good from the great investor is that great investors pause after given this information and right before they make a conclusion. That pause that gives them time to ask and weigh in on:

What is this founder(s)’ narrative beyond the LinkedIn resume?

Shifting the scope

It’s not about the quantitative, but about the qualitative. It’s not about the batting average, but about the number and distance of the home runs. So instead of the earlier question:

• How long have you spent in the idea maze?

And instead…

• What have you learned in your time in the idea maze?

Similarly, from what I’ve gathered from my friends in deep/frontier tech, instead of:

• How many publications have you published?

And instead…

• Where are you listed in the authorship of that research? The first? The second? The 20th?
  • For context of those outside of the industry, where one is listed defines how much that person has contributed towards the research.
  • As a slight nuance, there are some publications, where the “most important” individual is listed last. Usually a professor who mentored the researchers, but not always.
• And, how many times has your research been cited?

Some more context onto specificity

Some other touch points on why (public) investment theses are broad:

• FOMO. Investors are scared of the ‘whats if’s’. The market opportunity in aggregate is always smaller than the opportunity in the non-aggregate.
• Hyper-specific theses self-selects founders out who think they’re not a ‘perfect fit’. Very similar to job posts and their respective ‘requirements’.
• Some keep their thesis broad in the beginning before refining it over time. This is more of a trend with generalist funds.
• Theses are broad by firm, but more specific by partner. The latter of which isn’t always public, but can generally be tracked by tracking their previous investments, Twitter (or other social media) posts, and what makes them say no. Or simply, by asking them.

The pros of specificity

Up to this point, it may seem like specificity isn’t necessarily a good thing for an investor. At least to put out publicly.

But in many cases, it is. It helps with funneling out noise, which makes it easier to find the signals. It may mean less deal flow, which means less ‘busy’ work. But you get to focus more time on the ones you really care about. And hopefully lead to better capital and resource allocation. The important part is to check your biases when honing the thesis. Also, happens to be the reason why LPs (limited partners – investors who invest in VCs) love multi-GP funds (ideally of different backgrounds). Since there are others who will check your blind side.

Specificity also works in targeting specific populations that may historically be underrepresented or underestimated. Like a fund dedicated to female founders or BIPOC founders or drop-outs or immigrant founders. Broad theses, in this case, often inversely impact the diversity of investments for a fund. When you’re not focusing on anyone, you’re focusing on no one. Then, the default goes back to your track record of investments. And your track record is often self-perpetuating. If you’ve previously backed Stanford grads, you’re most likely going to continue to attract Stanford grads. If you’ve previously backed white male founders, that’ll most likely continue to be the case. In effect, you’re alienating those who don’t fit the founder archetype you’ve previously invested in.

In closing

We are, naturally, seekers of homogeneity. We naturally form cliques in our social and professional circles. And the more we seek it – consciously and subconsciously, the more it perpetuates in our lives. Focus on heterogeneity. I’m always working to consider biases – implicit and explicit – in my life and seeing how I’m self-selecting myself out of many social circles.

Whether you, my friend, are an investor or not. Our inputs define our outputs. Much like the food we put in our body. So, if there’s anything I hope you can take away from this post, I want you to:

1. Take a step back,
2. And examine what personal time, effort, social, and capital biases are we using to set the parameters of our investment theses.

Photo by Andrew Teoh on Unsplash

---

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!