No Business is an Island
by Margaret Heffernan

What is it about thse UK that makes it so hard to do business here? Yes, I know the standard answer is “red tape.” And we all (myself included) like to berate the government and the EU for the mountain of regulation we all have to master. But I’m more concerned about what we do – especially in our dealings with each other – that makes the entrepreneurial road so much tougher, and lonelier, than it needs to be.

I know that comparisons are invidious, and I am far from being a comprehensive apologist for all things American. But when I compare my experience building businesses here with there, or when I compare the conversations I have with entrepreneurs here and there, the differences are vast.

In the States, new ideas are greeted with pretty uncritical enthusiasm. You want to start a new business? Great! You have an idea for a new technology? Fantastic! You’ve invented a product to make people happier, prettier, richer or more relaxed? Awesome! The optimism with which your new venture is greeted fuels your own. However fatuous it may be, the encouragement and respect you get as an entrepreneur helps you to keep going through those dark nights of the soul when you aren’t entirely sure of yourself, your product – well, of anything really.

Perhaps best of all in the US, enthusiasm is quickly followed by that great question: how can I help? This is not just because Americans are generous – they are – but also because they’re self-interested. They genuinely believe you might be successful and, if you are, they want to be part of that success.

In the UK, the conversation tends to be quite different. You want to start a new business? Hmmm, can’t you get a real job? You have an idea for a new technology? I guess it will be another over-hyped, under-tested gizmo designed to make us miserable and you rich. You want to sell a new product? Hmm, yes, well, selling – it isn’t really very nice, is it, cramming products down the throats of gullible consumers? If you’re not pathetic – setting up in business as a last resort – then you must be greedy: ripping off the poor to fund your tacky McMansion in Surrey.

Yes, I know both scenarios are hyperbolic – but they’re not untrue. And it matters just because building your own business is so hard, and is so lonely. As the very first resort, it seems to me that the one thing we can do is more readily help each other. I see this, on a regular basis, when I address professional organizations and regional business networks. They’re full of fledgling entrepreneurs, eager to reach out and learn more about how it’s done. They know that talking to active entrepreneurs is the best business education they can get, and they’re eager to learn.

But then something funny happens: the really experienced ones, the successful ones, drop out. It’s rare to meet a group that covers the whole gamut from neophytes to veterans. The seasoned entrepreneur moves on – leaving their organizations no wiser than before they arrived. There’s very little giving back, not enough mentoring, not enough sharing of what works and what doesn’t. When I quiz entrepreneurs about this, many defend themselves, arguing that they don’t want to “give away” what they call “trade secrets”. By implication, they’re assuming that if they make the up-and-comers smarter, they will, in some mysterious way, be diminished themselves.

Well I think they’re wrong. I don’t think one business is strengthened when another fails. Quite the opposite. I think every time an entrepreneur goes down, we’re all the poorer. It’s one less vibrant business, one more lost opportunity, another lost customer, a poorer business climate, a rise in cynicism. The mental model of business as a zero-sum game – for me to win means you have to lose – is stale and outdated but nowhere more so than in our world where every successful new business could help others to flourish. Where every new idea could create more work for suppliers. Where every innovation creates more opportunities, more jobs, more markets.

A few months ago, I spoke at a networking event in Leeds, where the business climate was the subject of heated debate. As the participants were bemoaning the narrowness and selfishness that bedevils British business owners, one entrepreneur stood up and said, “I know this happens but I just choose not to pay attention. I turn my back on it. That may be them – but it doesn’t have to be me. I just won’t play that way.” I applaud her stance. It may sound simplistic, but she’s right. It’s hard to fix systemic problems – but we can, and must, start with ourselves. We can be more generous. We can choose to be more optimistic. We can insist on being more open. My own experience has taught me that the more I give, the more I get. Sure there are takers out there – but they’re easy to spot. I do not believe that every time I help some one, it diminishes me; I think it enriches me. Because no business is an island.

This article was originally published in Real Business magazine.

© Margaret Heffernan, 2005

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