It's Wednesday, February 12th, and today we're talking about why we're all trapped in Business Theatre.
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Last year, I was sitting with a startup workshopping their demo day pitch.
The founder, sweating slightly under the conference room lights, mentioned AI exactly seventeen times in twenty minutes. When I asked how they're actually using AI, they stammered something about "proprietary algorithms" and "revolutionary neural networks."
Others in the room nodded sagely.
I felt stupid.
But this weekend as I was binge watching Apple Cider Vinegar and watching another true story of a young scammer falling from grace, I started thinking...
We're all stuck in the world's longest-running show, and these seats are getting pricey.
I call it Business Theatre – where innovation is measured in buzzwords, success is calculated in LinkedIn engagement, and authenticity has been replaced by manufactured personas.
The stage is everywhere now. It's not just pitch meetings or conference keynotes. It's:
- The "thought leader" who's never actually led anything
- The startup touting "operational efficiency" while burning through runway
- The influencer selling courses about their "proven method" that they invented last Tuesday
- The founder pretending everything's fine while their mental health crumbles
We've moved beyond just "Innovation Theatre" (although watching companies awkwardly shoehorn AI into their pitch decks is a special kind of painful). Now, it's full-scale Broadway, complete with costumes (Patagonia vests), props (AllBirds), and very specific stage directions (rise and grind, baby).
A recent Harvard Business Review study found that 72% of founders report mental health issues, largely stemming from the pressure to maintain appearances.
We're literally making ourselves sick trying to look good for an audience that's mostly scrolling through their phones anyway.
Remember Elizabeth Holmes? She's the cautionary tale everyone points to while quietly adopting the same patterns on a smaller scale. The staged demos, the cherry-picked data, the carefully constructed image – it was all theatre.
Really expensive theatre, considering Theranos burned through $9 billion of other people's money.
What really bothers me is how many of us are complicit (and I am definitely including myself here). We're either on stage or in the audience, either performing or applauding. And the whole thing is propped up by:
- VCs who encourage the performance ("Make it sexy!")
- Platforms that reward it (LinkedIn's algorithm loves a good "I failed up" story)
- An audience trained to expect it (When's the last time a plain-speaking founder got the same applause as a charismatic one?)
In the same pitch practice day mentioned above, another founder said with "We're not trying to change the world, we just make accounting software that doesn't suck." Their advisor immediately jumped in: "No, no, no... (something something) financial paradigms (something something) cutting-edge technology!"
This founder was simply trying to be reasonable and honest...and that simply wouldn't do.
Consider all that we are losing:
- The ability to solve real problems (too busy staging fake ones)
- The capacity for genuine innovation (can't fail publicly!)
- The space for honest conversation about business (everything's always "crushing it")
Please Exit Stage Left
Some companies are finally leaving the theatre.
- Basecamp regularly publishes their failures.
- Seth Godin straight-up tells people not to buy his products sometimes.
- Buffer publishes their salaries, their revenue, their mistakes – all of it.
They're proving what should be obvious: when you stop performing, you can start building.
But how?
Start with honesty. Not the performative kind where you share a "vulnerable" post about the mistake that ended in a glorious lesson. Real and plain honesty.
"We tried this. It failed. Here's why."
Boring is fine. Boring means you're probably doing real work.
Next, audit your own motivations.
Are you saying things because they're true, or because they sound good? Are you building things people need, or things that make good TechCrunch headlines?
Finally, stop buying tickets to other people's shows. This is the hardest part.
Every time we amplify the theatre, we make it harder for everyone to be real.
I struggle deeply with this. I find myself combing through LinkedIn posts for way too long, trying to find one that feels genuine and good. I have to continuously ask myself: how much BS am I contributing to the world?
I often hesitate to share some of my inner loftiness, but I believe that if each of us started taking a more honest look at what we share and what we support, the entire entrepreneurial landscape would change trajectory from expensive entertainment to world-changing problem solving.
One can hope :)
Onward,
April
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By the way! My friend David is a coach and facilitator for Downshift, and they just opened up applications to their Spring Decelerator, a program that helps ambitious professionals recalibrate their relationship with work to be more intentional, authentic, and energizing.
This is for anyone on sabbatical or navigating a career transition. Applications for the 7-week program, that kicks off with a retreat in the Catskills, are due by Thursday, February 27th. Learn more and apply here.
I have no affiliation/ financial ties, but I believe they're doing incredibly important work.
