All human beings are entrepreneurs. When we were in the caves, we were all self-employed … finding our food, feeding ourselves. That’s where human history began. As civilization came, we suppressed it. We became “labor” because they stamped us, “You are labor.” We forgot that we are entrepreneurs.
—Muhammad Yunus,
Nobel Peace Prize winner and microfinance pioneer
You were born an entrepreneur.
This doesn’t mean you were born to start companies. In fact, most people shouldn’t start companies. The long odds of success, combined with the constant emotional whiplash, makes starting a business the right path for only some people.
All humans are entrepreneurs not because they should start companies but because the will to create is encoded in human DNA, and creation is the essence of entrepreneurship. As Yunus says, our ancestors in the caves had to feed themselves; they had to invent rules of living. They were founders of their own lives. In the centuries since then we forgot that we are entrepreneurs. We’ve been acting like labor.
To adapt to the challenges of professional life today, we need to rediscover our entrepreneurial instincts and use them to forge new sorts of careers. Whether you’re a lawyer or doctor or teacher or engineer or even a business owner, today you need to also think of yourself as an entrepreneur at the helm of at least one living, growing start-up venture: your career.
This book is not a job-hunting manual. You won’t find tips and tricks on how to format your résumé or how to prepare for a job interview. What you will find are the start-up mind-sets and skill sets you need to adapt to the future. You’ll find strategies that will help you expand the reach of your network, gain a competitive edge, and land better professional opportunities.
Your future success depends on understanding and deploying these entrepreneurial strategies. More broadly, society flourishes when people think entrepreneurially. More world problems will be solved—and solved faster—if people practice the values laid out in the pages ahead. This is a book about you, and it’s also about improving the society around you. That starts with each individual.
Centuries of immigrants risked everything to come to America with the conviction that if they worked hard, they would enjoy a better life than their parents had.1 Since our country’s birth, each generation of Americans has generally made more money, been better educated, and enjoyed a higher standard of living than the generation that came before it. An expectation of lockstep increases in prosperity became part of the American Dream.
For the last sixty or so years, the job market for educated workers worked like an escalator.2 After graduating from college, you landed an entry-level job at the bottom of the escalator at an IBM or a GE or a Goldman Sachs. There you were groomed and mentored, receiving training and professional development from your employer. As you gained experience, you were whisked up the organizational hierarchy, clearing room for the ambitious young graduates who followed to fill the same entry-level positions. So long as you played nice and well, you moved steadily up the escalator, and each step brought with it more power, income, and job security. Eventually, around age sixty-five, you stepped off the escalator, allowing those middle-ranked employees to fill the same senior positions you just vacated. You, meanwhile, coasted into a comfortable retirement financed by a company pension and government-funded Social Security.
People didn’t assume all of this necessarily happened automatically. But there was a sense that if you were basically competent, put forth a good effort, and weren’t unlucky, the strong winds at your back would eventually shoot you to a good high level. For the most part this was a justified expectation.
But now that escalator is jammed at every level. Many young people, even the most highly educated, are stuck at the bottom, underemployed, or jobless, as Ronald Brownstein noted in the Atlantic.3 At the same time, men and women in their sixties and seventies, with empty pensions and a government safety net that looks like Swiss cheese, are staying in or rejoining the workforce in record numbers.4 At best, this keeps middle-aged workers stuck in promotionless limbo; at worst, it squeezes them out in order to make room for more-senior talent. Today, it’s hard for the young to get on the escalator, it’s hard for the middle-aged to ascend, and it’s hard for anyone over sixty to get off. “Rather than advancing in smooth procession, everyone is stepping on everybody else,” Brownstein says.
With the death of traditional career paths, so goes the kind of traditional professional development previous generations enjoyed. You can no longer count on employer-sponsored training to enhance your communication skills or expand your technical know-how. The expectation for even junior employees is that you can do the job you’ve been hired to do upon arrival or that you’ll learn so quickly you’ll be up to speed within weeks.5 Whether you want to learn a new skill or simply be better at the job you were hired to do, it’s now your job to train and invest in yourself. Companies don’t want to invest in you, in part because you’re not likely to commit years and years of your life to working there—you will have many different jobs in your lifetime. There used to be a long-term pact between employee and employer that guaranteed lifetime employment in exchange for lifelong loyalty; this pact has been replaced by a performance-based, short-term contract that’s perpetually up for renewal by both sides. Professional loyalty now flows “horizontally” to and from your network rather than “vertically” to your boss, as Dan Pink has noted.
The undoing of these traditional career assumptions has to do with at least two interrelated macro forces: globalization and technology. These concepts may seem overhyped to you, but their long-term effects are actually underhyped. Technology automates jobs that used to require hard-earned knowledge and skills, including well-paid, white-collar jobs such as stockbrokers, paralegals, and radiologists.6 Technology also creates new jobs, but this creation tends to lag the displacement, and the new jobs usually require different, higher-level skills than did the ones they replaced.7 If technology doesn’t eliminate or change the skills you need in many industries, it at least enables more people from around the world to compete for your job by allowing companies to offshore work more easily—knocking down your salary in the process. Trade and technology did not appear overnight and are not going away anytime soon. The labor market in which we all work has been permanently altered.
So forget what you thought you knew about the world of work. The rules have changed. “Ready, aim, fire” has been replaced by “Aim, fire, aim, fire, aim, fire.” Searching for a job only when you’re unemployed or unhappy at work has been replaced by the mandate to always be generating opportunities. Networking has been replaced by intelligent network building.
The gap is growing between those who know the new career rules and have the new skills of a global economy, and those who clutch to old ways of thinking and rely on commoditized skills. The question is, which are you?
With change come new opportunities as well as challenges. What’s required now is an entrepreneurial mind-set. Whether you work for a ten-person company, a giant multinational corporation, a not-for-profit, a government agency, or any type of organization in between—if you want to seize the new opportunities and meet the challenges of today’s fractured career landscape, you need to think and act like you’re running a start-up: your career.
Why the start-up of you? When you start a company, you make decisions in an information-poor, time-compressed, resource-constrained environment. There are no guarantees or safety nets, so you take on a certain amount of risk. The competition is changing; the market is changing. The life cycle of the company is fairly short. The conditions in which entrepreneurs start and grow companies are the conditions we all now live in when fashioning a career. You never know what’s going to happen next. Information is limited. Resources are tight. Competition is fierce. The world is changing. And the amount of time you spend at any one job is shrinking. This means you need to be adapting all the time. And if you fail to adapt, no one—not your employer, not the government—is going to catch you when you fall.
Entrepreneurs deal with these uncertainties, changes, and constraints head-on. They take stock of their assets, aspirations, and the market realities to develop a competitive advantage. They craft flexible, iterative plans. They build a network of relationships throughout their industry that outlives their start-up. They aggressively seek and create breakout opportunities that involve focused risk, and actively manage that risk. They tap their network for the business intelligence to navigate tough challenges. And, they do these things from the moment they hatch that nascent idea to every day after that—even as the companies go from being run out of a garage to occupying floors of office space. To succeed professionally in today’s world, you need to adopt these same entrepreneurial strategies.
They are valuable no matter your career stage. They are urgent whether you’re just out of college, a decade into the workforce and angling for that next big move, or launching a brand-new career later in life. Companies act small to retain an innovative edge no matter how large they grow. Steve Jobs called Apple the “biggest start-up on the planet.” In the same way, you need to stay young and agile; you need to forever be a start-up.
I (Reid) cofounded LinkedIn in 2003 with the mission of connecting the world’s professionals to make them more productive and successful. More than 100 million members (at the time of the LinkedIn IPO in May 2011) and nine years later, I’ve learned a tremendous amount about how professionals in every industry manage their careers: how they connect with trusted business contacts, find jobs, share information, and present their online identities. For example, from LinkedIn’s massive professional engagement, my colleagues and I have gleaned insights about the most-sought-after skills, industry trends, and the career paths that lead to opportunities. I’ve gleaned insight about which approaches succeed and which fail; which tactics work and which fall flat. Along the way, I began to notice something utterly fascinating that related to my other passion: investing.
As executive chairman, LinkedIn is my primary day job, but I also invest in other start-ups. As an angel investor and now as partner at Greylock, I’ve invested in more than one hundred companies. This has given me an opportunity to help awesome entrepreneurs scale their businesses: be it brainstorming with Mark Pincus at Zynga on social gaming strategy, thinking through the future of the mobile Internet with Kevin Rose at Digg and Milk (his mobile apps firm), or collaborating with Matt Flannery to bring Kiva’s microloan model to all the world’s poor. Through these diverse experiences, I’ve developed an eye for the patterns of success and the patterns of failure in entrepreneurship.
Wearing these two hats—helping LinkedIn enable more economic opportunity for our members as well as helping my other portfolio companies grow—led me to a revelation: The business strategies employed by highly successful start-ups and the career strategies employed by highly successful individuals are strikingly similar. Ever since, I’ve been distilling into strategic frameworks all that I’ve learned from twenty fortunate years in Silicon Valley and applying them to the idea that every individual is a small business. I think about my own career in exactly this way: as a start-up.
When I first met Ben, he was at a career juncture: he was deciding whether to do more tech entrepreneurship (he had already started a couple of companies), more writing (he had written a book about entrepreneurship), more international travel (he had traveled abroad extensively), or some combination of all of them. Then in his early twenties, he was grappling with questions like: How far in the future should he plan? What kinds of career risks are advisable? How does someone experiment broadly and build specialized expertise? Then he said something that intrigued me. He told me that even if his next move wasn’t to start a new company, he still was going to approach all of these critical career questions as an entrepreneur would.
In the months leading up to our first meeting, Ben visited dozens of countries and met thousands of students, entrepreneurs, journalists, and businesspeople—from community college students in middle America to small-business owners in rural Indonesia to government leaders in Colombia. In these far-flung places he spoke about his own experiences and simultaneously observed and learned about the aspirations and attitudes of the talented local people. The remarkable thing he noticed was that entrepreneurship—in the broad sense of the word—was everywhere: thousands of miles from Silicon Valley, in the hearts and minds of people not necessarily starting companies. While they may not have considered themselves entrepreneurs, their approach to life seemed every bit the Silicon Valley way: they were self-reliant in spirit, resourceful, ambitious, adaptive, and networked with one another. From these experiences he arrived separately at the same conclusion that I did: entrepreneurship is a life idea, not a strictly business one; a global idea, not a strictly American one. (Which I also experienced by serving on the board of the global entrepreneurship organization Endeavor.) And, as the two decades between us attest, it’s also a lifelong idea, not a generational one.
Before we look forward at how entrepreneurship as a life idea can transform your career, we first need to understand what’s at stake. There’s no better way to demonstrate the perils of failing to adapt the start-up of you mind-set than by looking back at an industry that once embodied the best of entrepreneurship: Detroit.
In the middle of the twentieth century, Detroit flourished into a dynamic capital of the world thanks to three local start-ups: Ford Motor Company, General Motors, and Chrysler. At the time, these automakers were as innovative as they come. Ford figured out a way to mass-produce cars and trucks on an assembly line, a technique that changed manufacturing forever. GM and its legendary chairman Alfred Sloan developed a system of management and organization that was imitated by hundreds of other corporations. They were also visionaries. They boldly believed (when few did) that cars would be ubiquitous in a country that celebrated the idea of an open frontier. Alfred Sloan promised “a car for every purse and purpose.” Henry Ford said he would build a car “so low in price that no man making a good salary will be unable to own one.”
Like the best entrepreneurs, they did more than just dream. They went out and created the future they had imagined. Collectively, in the latter half of the twentieth century, American carmakers produced hundreds of millions of innovative, stylish vehicles, and sold them to customers in every part of the world. In 1955 GM became the first corporation in history to earn a billion dollars of revenue.8 By the end of that decade, GM was a juggernaut so powerful that the Justice Department considered breaking it up.
A job at these companies perfectly embodied the old career escalator. There was unbeatable job security—almost no one got fired from car companies. If you lacked the necessary skills, your employer would train you. General Motors even ran its own undergraduate university, a mix of classroom study and factory work. Graduating from its institute virtually guaranteed lifelong employment and its accompanying benefits. As you accumulated years on the job, you ascended in job rank.
During the boom years of the auto industry, the city of Detroit prospered. It was the land of dreams, riches, and next-generation technology. “This was Silicon Valley, man,” local newspaper columnist Tom Walsh told us, reflecting on Detroit’s golden age. Entrepreneurs were taking home colossal fortunes, and a million new people flooded into Detroit wanting a piece of it—an influx that made Detroit the fourth-most-populous city in the country.9 Wages were high; the city’s median income was the highest in America. Home ownership soared. Aside from being a great place to make a living, Detroit boasted a diversity, energy, culture, and progressive spirit that rivaled Chicago and New York. It was the first city to assign individual telephone numbers, pave a mile of concrete road, and develop an urban freeway.
In the 1940s, ’50s, and ’60s, Detroit was a crown jewel of America. “The word Detroit is a synonym throughout the world for the industrial greatness of America,” boomed President Harry Truman at the time.10 It was a key part of the “arsenal of democracy,” so symbolic of American exceptionalism that visitors from around the world flocked there to get a glimpse of entrepreneurship and innovation at its very best.
Then Detroit’s automakers lost their entrepreneurial spirit. The entrepreneurs became labor. And like the Titanic colliding with the tip of a giant iceberg, Detroit started to sink slowly to the bottom.
“Year after year, decade after decade, we have seen problems papered over and tough choices kicked down the road, even as foreign competitors outpaced us. Well, we have reached the end of that road,” said President Barack Obama in 2009, at a press conference announcing that the federal government was loaning $77 billion to GM and Chrysler (and granting access to a line of credit to Ford) to prop up the companies as they filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy.11 For older Americans who grew up enchanted by the grandeur of Detroit, President Obama’s announcement neatly summed up three decades of decay and disillusionment.
What happened? Many things. But the overriding problem was this: The auto industry got too comfortable. As Intel cofounder Andy Grove once famously proclaimed, “Only the paranoid survive.” Success, he meant, is fragile—and perfection, fleeting. The moment you begin to take success for granted is the moment a competitor lunges for your jugular. Auto industry executives, to say the least, were not paranoid.
Instead of listening to a customer base that wanted smaller, more fuel-efficient cars, the auto executives built bigger and bigger. Instead of taking seriously new competition from Japan, they staunchly insisted (both to themselves and to their customers) that MADE IN THE USA automatically meant “best in the world.” Instead of trying to learn from their competitors’ new methods of “lean manufacturing,” they clung stubbornly to their decades-old practices. Instead of rewarding the best people in the organization and firing the worst, they promoted on the basis of longevity and nepotism. Instead of moving quickly to keep up with the changing market, executives willingly embraced “death by committee.” Ross Perot once quipped that if a man saw a snake on the factory floor at GM, they’d form a committee to analyze whether they should kill it.
Easy success had transformed the American auto companies into risk-averse, nonmeritocratic, bloated bureaucracies. When the competition heated up and customer needs changed, the company executives and the autoworker employee unions did not adapt. Instead, they did more of the same.
Detroit did not burst overnight. It saw a gradual deflation. In fact, that was part of the problem. Because companies were still generating billions of dollars of revenue for years during their decline, it was easy for management to get complacent, to ignore the problems that were piling up. No one stress-tested the organization, or tried to identify and fix long-term weaknesses. This made the day of reckoning painful. By the time the red alarm started ringing—that is, when GM lost $82 billion in the three and a half years leading up to the federal bailout—it was too late.
The auto industry’s collapse has left the Motor City in dire straits. “The great thing about living in America’s most abandoned city,” deadpanned Walsh, the local columnist, “is that there is never any traffic at any hour.” Abandoned is certainly the word that comes to mind if you walk the streets just outside of the main downtown drag in Detroit. You can go blocks without seeing anybody. Empty houses languish. Some are professionally boarded up, with CONDEMNED signs tacked to the front door; others have only black tarp stapled within empty window frames. Many buildings bear an eerie resemblance to crumbling gingerbread houses. About a third of the city—an area the size of San Francisco—is deserted.
For those who remain, life is grim. Detroit is the second-most-dangerous city in the United States (behind Flint, Michigan). Half of its children live in poverty. It leads the country in unemployment—estimates run anywhere from 15 to 50 percent. The school system is a travesty: eight out of ten eighth-graders are unable to do basic math.12 Most local politicians are variously corrupt and inept. Unbelievably, there is not one produce-carrying grocery chain in the whole city.
Detroit was once the symbol of progress, of what is good and possible. The auto industry was once the symbol of entrepreneurship. Now Detroit is the symbol of despair.
The story of Detroit isn’t simple. There are other complicating factors we haven’t mentioned in our brief sketch, and there are early indicators that things may be improving. Nor is the Detroit story unique. We hold the auto industry up as an example not because it’s exceptional, but because it isn’t. Recent history teems with industries and companies that have experienced similarly precipitous declines. Once-great companies are falling both more frequently and more quickly than in times past. In the 1920s and ’30s firms stayed in the S&P 500 for an average of sixty-five years. By the late 1990s the average tenure was just ten years. John Seely Brown and John Hagel, of Deloitte, report that the topple rate—the rate at which big companies lose their leadership positions—has more than doubled over the past forty years. Today more than ever, “ ‘winners’ have increasingly precarious positions.”13
Why are so many winners ending up like Detroit? Each case is different, but underlying causes tend to include the hubris that comes from success, the failure to recognize and match competition, an unwillingness to exploit opportunities that contain risk, and an inability to adapt to relentless change. The forces of competition and change that brought down Detroit are global and local. They threaten every business, every industry, every city. And more important, they also threaten every individual, every career.
This is not a book about the economic history of Detroit. So why is Detroit important? Because no matter what city you live in, no matter what business or industry you work for, no matter what kind of work you do—when it comes to your career, right now, you may be heading down the same path as Detroit. The forces of change that toppled the once great city and industry risk toppling all of our careers—no matter how secure they may seem at the moment.
Fortunately, there is another path—both metaphorically and physically thousands of miles away from Detroit. Silicon Valley has become the twenty-first-century model for entrepreneurship and progress and has had multiple generations of entrepreneurial companies over the decades: from Hewlett Packard’s founding in 1939 to Intel, Apple, Adobe, Genentech, AMD, Intuit, Oracle, Electronic Arts, Pixar, and Cisco, and then to Google, eBay, Yahoo, Seagate, and Salesforce, and then more recently to PayPal, Facebook, YouTube, Craigslist, Twitter, and LinkedIn.
In each passing decade, Silicon Valley has kept and intensified its entrepreneurial mojo, with dozens of companies creating the future and adapting to the evolution of the global market. These companies provide not only a new model for corporate innovation, but also the entrepreneur mind-set needed to succeed in individual careers.
What do these companies have in common? The principles of Silicon Valley are the principles in this book. Take intelligent and bold risks to accomplish something great. Build a network of alliances to help you with intelligence, resources, and collective action. Pivot to a breakout opportunity.
You can think like a start-up, whoever you are and whatever you do. Anyone can apply this entrepreneurial skill set to his or her career. This is a book about how to do just that. It’s about keeping Detroit from happening to you and making the Silicon Valley way work for you.
In 1997 Reed Hastings, a software entrepreneur living in the hills of Silicon Valley, was faced with a problem. He had rented Apollo 13 from a video store, returned it days late, and was dealt a late fee so nasty that he was too embarrassed to tell his wife what had happened. His entrepreneurial instinct kicked in: What if you could rent a movie and never face the risk of a late fee? So he began researching the industry and learned that the new DVD technology was light and cheap to ship.14 He realized that the shift toward e-commerce, in concert with the DVD revolution, could be a huge opportunity. So that year he launched a business that combined e-commerce with old-fashioned postal mail: customers would select their movie on a website, receive a DVD of the movie in the mail, and then mail it back whenever they were finished. It was a compelling idea, but Reed knew from his years in the technology industry that it would inevitably evolve. He avoided calling his business DVDs-by-Mail (or some other name that was specific to the business’s current iteration) and instead came up with a more expansive company name: Netflix.
Netflix wasn’t instantly successful. Originally, customers paid for each DVD they rented, like at Blockbuster, the industry gorilla that operated thousands of video rental stores worldwide.15 It didn’t catch on. So Reed began offering monthly subscription plans that allowed unlimited rentals. Yet customers still complained that it took too long from the time they selected a flick online to when it arrived in the mail. In 1999 he set up a meeting at Blockbuster’s headquarters in part to discuss possibly partnering on local distribution and faster fulfillment. Blockbuster was not impressed. “They just about laughed us out of their office,” Reed recalls.16
Reed and his team kept at it. They perfected their distribution center network so that more than 80 percent of customers received overnight delivery of movies.17 They developed an innovative recommendation engine that prompted users with movies they might like based on past purchases. By 2005 Netflix had a subscriber base four million strong, had fended off competition from imitations like Walmart’s online movie-by-mail effort, and became the king of online movie rentals. In 2010 Netflix made a profit of more than $160 million. Blockbuster, in comparison, failed to adapt to the Internet era. That year it filed for bankruptcy.18
Netflix is not resting. In fact, in 2010 and 2011 the company shifted focus from its still profitable DVDs-by-mail business and jumped to the next curve: instant online streaming of movies and TV shows to computers, smart-phones, and tablet devices. It’s something they’d wanted to do for years, and wide-scale broadband adoption now allows it. The majority of their customers now watch TV shows and movies via streaming rather than by DVD, and, at the time of writing, Netflix accounts for more than 30 percent of all Internet traffic during the week. Soon, online streaming may well feature significant Netflix original programming, or incorporate some new technology not yet invented. Nonetheless, their ongoing success is not assured. There are always new challenges.
“Most of the time, change in the world overtakes you,” Reed says. When a Hollywood executive once asked him during an on-stage interview whether he makes five-year strategic plans or three-year strategic plans, Reed said he does neither: three years is an eternity in Silicon Valley, and they can’t plan that far in advance. Instead, Netflix stays nimble and iterates, always in the test phase. We call this mind-set “permanent beta.”
Technology companies sometimes keep the beta test phase label on software for a time after the official launch to stress that the product is not finished so much as ready for the next batch of improvements. Gmail, for example, launched in 2004 but only left official beta in 2009, after millions of people were already using it. Jeff Bezos, founder/CEO of Amazon, concludes every annual letter to shareholders by reminding readers, as he did in his first annual letter in 1997, that “it’s still Day 1” of the Internet and of Amazon.com: “Though we are optimistic, we must remain vigilant and maintain a sense of urgency.”19 In other words, Amazon is never finished: it’s always Day 1. For entrepreneurs, finished is an F-word. They know that great companies are always evolving.
Finished ought to be an F-word for all of us. We are all works in progress. Each day presents an opportunity to learn more, do more, be more, grow more in our lives and careers. Keeping your career in permanent beta forces you to acknowledge that you have bugs, that there’s new development to do on yourself, that you will need to adapt and evolve. But it’s still a mind-set brimming with optimism because it celebrates the fact that you have the power to improve yourself and, as important, improve the world around you.
Andy Hargadon, head of the entrepreneurship center at the University of California–Davis, says that for many people “twenty years of experience” is really one year of experience repeated twenty times.20 If you’re in permanent beta in your career, twenty years of experience actually is twenty years of experience because each year will be marked by new, enriching challenges and opportunities. Permanent beta is essentially a lifelong commitment to continuous personal growth.
Get busy livin’, or get busy dyin’. If you’re not growing, you’re contracting. If you’re not moving forward, you’re moving backward.
The permanent beta mind-set alone won’t transform your career. There are real skills involved in becoming the entrepreneur of your own life. In the following chapters, we’ll introduce how to:
• Develop your competitive advantage in the market by combining three puzzle pieces: your assets, your aspirations, and the market realities. (Chapter 2)
• Use ABZ Planning to formulate a Plan A based on your competitive advantages, and then iterate and adapt that plan based on feedback and lessons learned. (Chapter 3)
• Build real, lasting relationships and deploy these relationships into a powerful professional network. (Chapter 4)
• Find and create opportunities for yourself by tapping networks, being resourceful, and staying in motion. (Chapter 5)
• Accurately appraise and take on intelligent risk as you pursue professional opportunities. (Chapter 6)
• Tap network intelligence from the people you know for the insight that allows you to find better opportunities and make better career decisions. (Chapter 7)
At the end of each chapter, we include specific action items on how to invest in yourself.
These skills do not cover all things related to work and careers. Nor is this book an analysis of all ideas related to entrepreneurship. Instead, we draw on the entrepreneurial strategies that can help you achieve the following two goals.
First, we will show how to survive in times of change and uncertainty to avoid the fate of Detroit. We’ll show you how to get healthy stability in your career by adapting. Adaptability creates stability.
Second, we aim to equip you with the strategies that help you break out from the pack and flourish as a globally competitive professional. Whether you want to move up in a corporation, start your own small business, or transition into an entirely new industry—whatever your ambitions for a successful career, we’ll show you how you can achieve them by thinking and acting like an entrepreneur. These entrepreneurial career strategies aren’t a magic bullet. But they will help you move up that jammed escalator and not only survive, but thrive, in today’s fractured world of work.
Let’s get going. You have a start-up to run.