The Venture Capital that matters

Investing in early-stage companies has always been, at its core, an act of faith. Risking present money for an uncertain, often improbable, future. It’s a deeply human game: trusting in people and projects that barely exist, betting they can create something valuable where today there’s only a promise.

But this friendly theatre of Venture Capital has become filled with pretty stories and tech buzzwords that dazzle, while there’s a shortage of architects and builders who understand that this is about constructing for the long term. Who know how to distinguish between passing fads and the essence of good investing.

It’s not about being against new technologies. The Metaverse, Artificial Intelligence, Blockchain... of course they’re exciting. What’s troubling is how easily part of the sector jumps headfirst into barely understood concepts, driven more by fear of missing out (FOMO) than by real conviction.

Some investors put money into things they don’t understand. Some entrepreneurs raise funds with business models that are barely sketched out, selling futures as grand as they are unverifiable. Valuations skyrocket. And when it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t matter: there will always be a new buzzword to latch onto.

Good Venture Capital should be something else.

A real investor needs critical thinking to avoid being hypnotized by trends. They need humility, to not believe they’re smarter than the rest just because they have an abundance of deal flow or because other investors have trusted them with money. And they need patience, because building a solid company takes far more time—and effort—than is often admitted.

Early-stage investing isn’t about chasing unicorns, but about helping companies discover who they are, what problem they solve, and which customers are willing to pay for it. It’s about guiding without overwhelming. Contributing ideas and capital responsibly. Being present—especially when things get tough.

Good investors don’t chase funding rounds, and neither do good entrepreneurs. They chase customers. They understand that capital is a bridge, not an end in itself. That real success isn’t measured by money raised, but by a company’s ability to generate recurring, sustainable revenue from satisfied customers—and well above its costs.

Of course, this is also about taking risks. There’s no extraordinary return without accepting that several companies in a portfolio will fail along the way. That’s why good Venture Capital diversifies—investing in 20 or 30 companies, knowing that only a few will concentrate most of the value. Those are the ones that, after years of shared work and learning, and staged investments based on insights and needs, might return 10 or 20 times the original investment.

But this takes time. Much more than a short-term mindset allows. Because a company needs years—sometimes a decade—to consolidate a real business model, build a strong team, and generate tangible value. Money matters, yes, but it’s not enough to inject it under pressure. A company that hasn’t validated its market doesn’t need to grow fast—it needs to understand it. It needs to understand itself.

Unfortunately, big-number Venture Capital has its own limitations. The largest funds can’t afford to invest small tickets in very early stages. If you manage €200 million, you need to write big checks, which forces you to look for companies that are already “ready” to scale—or worse, to push them to act like they are when they’re not.

This creates a strange ecosystem, where entrepreneurs selling inflated promises coexist with investors who need to believe them. Not out of naivety, but due to structural necessity.

And yet, a different kind of Venture Capital still exists. More artisanal. More patient. The kind that doesn’t make noise but builds solid foundations. The kind that takes real risks in the most uncertain stages. The kind that’s there when no one else is.

This isn’t about demonizing the sector. Properly understood, Venture Capital is vital for redirecting resources to projects with transformative potential and rapid value creation. But we must not forget why this industry exists: not to raise infinite rounds, but to help build real companies, with real customers, that generate real value.

Maybe we have to get used to living alongside false unicorns and prophets of hollow growth. It’s part of the game. But it’s also our responsibility to recognize and champion the artisans of patient capital—those investors who understand that success isn’t in today’s headline photo, but in years of work.

Fewer buzzwords. More craftsmanship. Less theatre. More pick and shovel.

In the end, this is about building.

Sources in media: Funds People (Spanish only!)