Chairs and CEOs
What is a chair? A piece of furniture that allows a person to sit and supports her back.
What does a chair look like? The first image that comes to mind is a wooden surface supported by four wooden legs and a wooden frame sticking upwards from the flat surface.
Pilloxa was about one year old. We had received a start-up grant and had our first angel round. It was a pre-seed: many product uncertainties, no office, just founders, and a clear vision. The CEO question came up. It felt like you would have to have one contact person for the investors, plus every respectable company has a CEO. I was used to being responsible for an organisation from my student days and felt it was the right place for me. We, as founders, had a two-hour meeting discussing the pros and cons of each of us being the CEO, and in the end, we made a decision. That afternoon, I became the CEO of Pilloxa.
What is the purpose of a chair? For people to sit. If someone wants to sit, I'll look for a chair. I could bring or refer to other objects or surfaces to support her body while sitting, but it would feel weird and improper.
It was a hot summer day, one of those handful of days a year everyone in Sweden waits for. Get outside, go to a park or the sea, gather friends, take a bite to eat, and enjoy the warmth of the sun and the length of the day.
Pilloxa was close to bankruptcy. It was a couple of years from our pre-seed. We made progress and hired people—still, there was no money in the bank account. I had never experienced being responsible for an organisation running out of cash, with employees relying on that as income for their families. I was the CEO. I put in more working hours, but still no result. Employees asked questions about cash flow and investment more and more often.
My self-talk was beating on the same notes all day:
"What does a CEO do? Show as much confidence as possible, ask them to trust you in bringing funding, and ask for even more independence. Find the right strategy and earn the CEO title. Real CEOs don't need positive reinforcement or support. Have you seen Company Y? Their CEO raised an oversubscribed round; look at that article in the press."
What happens when you want to sit but there is no chair? You would most probably look for a chair. Or wait until a chair is available. You might think about sitting on the floor or a table, but it would feel weird. What if other people are looking? Everyone knows one sits only on chairs or sofas.
The days passed by. I put myself in a more isolated position, worked harder, and showed confidence. The stakes were higher and higher, with no closing of the round in sight. I felt awful. Who wants to be in a company where the CEO cannot even raise a seed round? I took the CEO grades and failed.
We founders stopped paying our salaries, and I called our lead investor.
I explained the situation, that I didn't know what else to do and felt I couldn't raise a round. I told her the company should switch to another CEO and that it would be entirely my fault if we went bankrupt.
Her response was: why didn't you tell us? We could have helped. Let's do this together. I'll make some calls, and we will make it happen. You founders are the team's strength; do it like you always did, together. I trust you, and I believe in you. You have been doing great things in the last year, and the patients need your product.
What makes the "chairness" of a chair? Is there any intrinsic quality in being a chair? There is a conventional interpretation of what a chair is, but is there a definitive knowledge outside the realm of interpretation? Is the "chairness" of the chair only an accepted social construction that simplifies communication among people?
Our lead investor helped us find clarity in our storytelling, and she backed us with a substantial follow-up investment. We founders pitched together: I took on commercial and organisational parts, Helena vision and patient impact, Per product and user's perspective.
Shortly after, we closed our seed round. I was still the CEO of Pilloxa. I nurtured relationships, established clarity and accountability, and championed our culture. We decided always to have at least two founders pitching for investment. The strategic choices will be taken regularly at founders' meetings. I will update everyone weekly about the status and ensure we discuss the right questions at the right time.
Our daughter is 2,5 years old.
She loves our chairs.
She crawls in between their legs to build a makeshift tent;
she stands on them when she wants to feel taller;
she puts several of them together to make an obstacle course to climb on and jump from;
she might get angry when we sit on them. I guess that she feels it is like a waste of potential.
Sometimes, she sits on chairs.
She will also sit on the floor, table, carpet, staircase, and wooden beams in the attic; everything can fit the bill outdoors. That's one of the main reasons we give her sturdy, washable outdoor clothing.
My identification with a conventional interpretation of the CEO's role was the source of immense inefficiency and personal suffering. I completely fused with the interpretation I had at hand, and I became practically a thing for my thoughts to push around. The journey wasn't any more open to unfolding our potential as founders. I had to pass into a strict definition.
This made me miserable, a worse leader and teammate, but it also clouded my ability to look at reality, see what was going on, and engage in creativity. The same creativity that brought us to envision a product or company where none was before. This identification and closure also got all my focus and narrative centred on me and my self-judgement, not the company. I was playing a hero role, and, as you might have guessed, my thoughts weren't promoting a rosy picture of that journey.
What if I had been able to take a step back and drop the conventional frameworks? I would have realised that I was an inexperienced CEO, that the strength in seed rounds is in the team and that the strength in our team was how we worked together. No one expects first-time founders to be perfect; it is about the development curve. I could have gone back into a narrative where we helped each other and opened myself and my vulnerabilities to find the strength we needed to move forward. And the external support.
If the company would have doubted me as a CEO, that's ok. If we would have found a better CEO, that's also ok, and I should be able to make that decision. My identity was separate from being a CEO; I wanted to contribute and help. The company started not for me wanting to satisfy some external pressure on my ego but to solve real problems for real people.
Was there a reality I wanted to live in where I was not transparent and open? Did I always want to be on the defence? Was it worth losing the openness to unfolding potential for myself and others to adhere to a social convention?
The answer was clear. The world is full of shining things. Self-centred narratives and stiffness in interpretation and identification were dragging me away from them. I would have found my way to being the CEO of Pilloxa until I didn't, and there would be endless opportunities for meaning around me right there.