A Tale of Two Pitch Decks

You arrive at a fork in the road. Rain pours down, with no end in sight. You are running out of resources, namely money, from which most resources are derived, including food and basic shelter. You are unable to make money out of the surrounding forest. Everything is very wet, you don’t have a saw, or a printer, or green ink. You have just listed three things you think go into the formation of paper currency, but you are generally unsure. You have now wasted an additional sixty seconds, for which you will never get back. Your inventory consists of:

1. A business idea that you think is pretty good.
2. A mobile app for your business that mostly works
3. A pitch deck that you believe represents your true mission (but also says “fuck” on the first slide)
4. A pitch deck that is for a similar but different business. (A positioning more enticing to investors.)
5. Enough money to last you approximately two to three months
6. A 1952 Topps Mickey Mantle rookie card

What do you do?

> Try to sell Mickey Mantle card

You take a risk and leave the fork in the road in search of the nearest collectible merchandise shop. During the treacherous journey, you fail to answer a troll’s riddle and are forced to give up more money. You finally arrive at a collectibles shop. Your hope meter increases by 20%. The Mickey Mantle card is valued at approximately $5 million USD. Your reach into your jeans pocket. You present the store clerk with a soggy ball of cardboard which drips yellow and blue ink all over the counter. I told you the pouring rain showed no signs of stopping. The clerk feels bad for you and is willing to give you $5 USD. You accept.

Now what?

> Extract ink from counter.

None of the ink is green. And you do not know how to make money. Still. And you don’t have a saw or a printer either. And everything is still soaked.

What now?

> Head back to fork in the road.

You take your five dollars and head back to the juncture you left. The journey is equally as treacherous. The troll is bored of riddles, and robs you of the $5 you got from the card store. The bill is so wet from the rain, the troll gives it back to you. He feels badly enough for you to not take the rest. Somehow, this feels worse than actually getting robbed. Your hope level drops 70%. You finally arrive at the fork in the road. Rain continues to pour.

What now?

> Inspect trees.

No. Stop. You still cannot make money. You wonder if your idea is actually that good. No, no. It is good. Even I know that, and I’m an internal narrator likely living forty years prior to your current timeline given the antiquity of this gaming format.

While you ponder your next move, a wild venture capitalist appears at the threshold of the fork in the road.

The VC bellows: “Hark, wet and sad entrepreneur. I have heard a message from a local troll that you have a good business idea and a pitch deck in your inventory. As I am never one to pass on hearing a good idea, and you seem adequately prepared to present the idea to me, despite you being wet and sad, I am willing to listen. Well, let’s see it then.”

What do you do?

> Check inventory.

Really? You know this. Okay. Fine.

1. A business idea that you think is pretty good.
2. A mobile app that mostly works
3. A pitch deck that you believe represents your true mission
4. A pitch deck that is catered to investors.
5. Enough money to last you approximately two to three months (but you’re really pushing it now)
6. A very wet $5 bill

What now?

> Consult inner monologue.

Alright, fuckin’…alright.

So. The internet sucks. Everyone is polarized, manipulated and exploited for money and the associated power that comes with it. Pretty much everyone is concerned about how their data online is being used. And we can’t really escape it. People check their phones, like, 350 times per day. And you got mad at me for checking my inventory twice.

Anyway, on the flip side, businesses rely on data. Most of them will fail because they don’t know what the hell they are doing with data and analytics. So, it seems quite obvious, to me at least, that data is at the center of not only the current issues with the internet, but also of the potential solution.

So what is the solution? We can’t live in a world without privacy. Nor can we
shut off all data. Businesses need it, and they will find a way to get it.

Users have to own their data. Technically they already do, they just don’t know how to exercise any of those rights, like, selling it, licensing it, destroying it, and more. The solution is nothing new from a historical perspective: a free market, but for data. The supply and demand is obvious. Users want control and compensation. Businesses want actionable insights, not gigabytes of data they need to sift through to come to any semblance of a conclusion.

More of the same is not going to solve the problem. We need a new approach. With users truly owning their data, the ecosystem is flipped, creating the new free market. While a free market is nothing new, a platform which brings together data privacy, ownership issuance, and a digital marketplace is.

Imagine a world where users own their data and companies stream insights like they’re TV. We’re in it for the long haul. It’s a multi-trillion-dollar industry.

The internet is fucked, but we can fix it together.

Very long-winded, but now I remember why I thought the idea was so good. It seems to be undeniably good. You probably are driving yourself insane, operating on limited sleep and the occasional light beer in order to turn this vision into a reality while not going totally insane in the process. That was a pretty good pitch. It’s a shame it was in your head and not to the VC.

Yes, yes. Well, the idea is good. What I’ve got now is a pitch deck that says fuck on the very first slide. But that is really beside the point. The first one is the one I really believe in. It’s the one that aligns with the vision that drives me internally.

And then I’ve got this other one. It fundamentally would change the trajectory of the company toward something I’m not entirely sure I believe in. It’s a different business model. It’s the devil (or angel) on my shoulder telling me to be more cognizant of what traditional investors are interested in. It’s a safe play. But does it represent what we are trying to do? Trying to solve a compounding problem with more of the same does not seem like the right answer. We need to do something new. The vision needs to transcend the status quo.

Your internal monologue goes on for what seems like forever. Do you make a conservative business decision or do you listen to your heart. The impassioned sounds of Swedish pop duo Roxette’s 1988’s hit “Listen To Your Heart”, plays inside your head as you consider your options. Dang. Okay. This must be one of those indie text-based games that are coming out now. No way was anyone playing text-based games in 1988, were they? Super Mario Bros. 2 came out in 1988. So did Altered Beast and Altered Beast is awesome.

So this is definitely some indie game. Or someone very dedicated to the craft of text-based adventure games in 1988 put this out. He was following his passion despite plenty of people telling him not to. He probably exclusively ate canned tuna until he died in 1991. You finally end your internal monologue, and it goes like this…

“Alright. Fuck it. It says 'fuck.' Whatever. It does the best job of describing my vision, which, of course, is very good.  Come what may, I will listen to my heart when it’s calling for me. Thanks, Roxette.”

While you were internal monologue-ing for-ev-ver, the VC became impatient until he realized there was plenty of industrial printing equipment, cotton, linen, and green ink nearby. Huh. Imagine that. Turns out dollar bills are made of cotton and linen, and not paper. You didn’t need a saw after all. In a process that usually takes approximately four months, he has managed to print millions of US dollars. Has it really been four months? You hope not, because you for sure would have no money by then. No, he’s just hyper-efficient. Maybe magic, or something. Probably why he has so much money. Anyway, he’s got a bunch more money now, and you do not.

What do you do?

> Forecast worst possible scenario.

What? Okay. I’m not quite sure we can do this, but I can let it slide. The
catch is I can’t tell you which deck brings this result. Here goes:

You present the deck to the VC. It is approximately 23 slides long and took you weeks to complete. He rifles through it in approximately 23 seconds. He laughs one of those shallow nasal exhalation laughs that slightly balloons his belly. You nervously await for him to speak, and alas, the VC speaketh:

"Hark, sad and wet entrepreneur! You have become increasingly wet while you have pondered your thoughts. I can now understand why the troll felt badly for you. Though it has taken me only 23 seconds to parse through your deck, it is evident that your idea is good. Dare I say, very good. However, given an opportunity of a lifetime, your first impression to me, a man with a lot of money, much of which I just printed, of course from cotton and linen, and not paper, because anyone who thought otherwise is likely a big idiot, happened to be the utterance of a word frowned upon in nearly every professional setting.

Not only that, but it takes you for-ev-er to get to the money part. I am here for the money part. It was bad enough how wet and sad you were, but now it has become evident that you are both irresponsible and incompetent. I award you zero dollars, and may God have mercy on your soul.

What now?

> That’s not actually the worst-case scenario

What? That is not a command, but…whatever. So, getting called incompetent and irresponsible and receiving zero funding is not the worst case scenario? Then what is?!

> Well, the worst-case is if I pitch the idea I don’t believe as strongly in. And then we get money for it. And then we are always beholden to a vision which isn’t the one that made me start this thing in the first place.

Again, not a command. But I suppose this time it’s my fault. Alright. That is quite respectable and bold coming from someone who only has $5. Well, enough of this. The VC is waiting. Now or never, kid.

What do you do?

> Present VC deck with the true mission

Without apprehension, you hand the deck over to the VC. He sifts through, nodding slowly to himself. He ponders his thoughts, takes a peek over at you, and hands you back the deck.

He speaks:

“Well, I’ll tell ya what…”