Lessons Learned From a Failed Ivy League Entrepreneur

A "Case Story" By Chris Cononico
 

Chapter One

“Our greatest foes, and whom we must chiefly combat, are within.” -- Cervantes

When I enrolled in Wharton as an undergraduate student, I expected to become a “business man” upon graduation. The means by which this transformation was supposed to happen were a complete mystery to me. I had no idea exactly what I meant by “business man,” but I had a hunch it involved my wearing a suit everyday, carrying a briefcase, and making a lot of money.

Eventually, I learned to distinguish finance, accounting, and marketing as different fields within the business world. Unfortunately, I had no passion for any of these professions. For whatever reason, being a Wall Street trader inspired no interest in me. Among my friends, I was one of the few people who wasn’t interested enough to finish reading Liar’s Poker. The more I learned about accounting, the more I knew I didn’t want to become an accountant. I also found I had no desire for a career in marketing.

The truth was I didn’t like any of my job choices. It’s a disappointing way to start your career when nothing excites you. I didn’t want an uninspiring job, because I knew I would be unhappy. Eventually, I began to fear I was hoping for too much.

During my junior year at Penn, I took my first class in the Wharton Entrepreneurial Management department and learned about a very different career path. My professors were self-made millionaires, who preached the virtues of entrepreneurship. Their message was simple, “go and work for yourself.” At that point in my life, I couldn’t figure out what career I wanted, so the idea of becoming an entrepreneur intrigued me.

Being a student of entrepreneurship at Wharton consisted of me listening to lectures and analyzing case studies. We learned how successful entrepreneurs took the road less traveled and were often rewarded. Before long, the possibilities of “entrepreneurship” captured my imagination and I recall sitting back in the lecture hall thinking that now was the best time in my life to be taking risks. After all, I was young, had no family to support, and few commitments. Besides, I wanted to become wealthy while I was still in my twenties, so I could really enjoy it.

Unfortunately, you can’t be an “entrepreneur” without a business idea and I didn’t have one. Nevertheless, I was more excited by the prospects of building my own company than about starting at the ground floor of someone else’s firm. It felt good to think I might have some control over my future. It also felt good to "think big."

As a college student, I looked at the portraits of billionaires around campus and realized that most of these moguls had acquired their wealth through self-employment. I wanted to become one of them. I had a lot of confidence and ambition, which I attribute to the Wharton environment. After all, when Donald Trump’s son and Michael Milliken’s sons are walking past you on Locust Walk, a certain level of “success” begins to feel tangible.

I remember sitting down with my father and discussing my career prospects with him. I was 20 years old and I told him I wanted to become an entrepreneur. At first, he rolled his eyes at me, but I went on to tell him how I intended to come up with a good business idea, raise financing capital, and manage the company for a few years before selling my stake for a big profit.

When my father objected, I argued that I didn’t need to have "experience" to operate a company by myself, because I could hire other people to help me. When he asked what I would do after I sold my shares, I told him I would do it again with another business. I planned to start at the top as a 20-year old CEO, make a name for myself, and leverage my success to become a serial entrepreneur. In my mind, it was all that simple.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have a clue about the type of business that best suited me. I was willing to consider almost any idea in any market, provided the company could make money. It sounds ridiculous, but if someone had presented me with an idea to sell widgets on the street corner, I would have considered it. By focusing on rewards like money and status, I was able to rationalize my possible involvement in almost any new venture.
 

 

Copyright  2005 by Chris Cononico
All rights reserved. No part of this manuscript may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.