
Vinod Khosla once said something that sounds outrageous until you spend enough time around startups.
Most investors are negative value add: at first it sounds like a Silicon Valley provocation.
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Then you start building companies; then you start fundraising; then you start meeting the sharks. And suddenly the statement stops sounding controversial.
It starts sounding obvious.
Because while many investors simply add no value, a smaller group does something worse - they extract value. Sometimes they even kill the company.
Founders obsess over valuation, but very few obsess over incentives. However, incentives tell you everything.
A venture investor is supposed to make money one way: the company succeeds, and their equity becomes valuable.
That alignment is the entire foundation of venture capital. Break that alignment and the whole system stops working. And that is where the sharks appear.
One of the most common sharks in venture capital hides behind a friendly title.
Advisor. Strategic partner. Operating partner. Growth advisor.
The titles sound helpful, but the structure tells a different story. These investors often want something unusual: they want the startup to pay them.
Monthly advisory retainers. Strategic consulting agreements. Business development retainers. “Investor relations support.” The labels change; the mechanism does not.
Money flows from the startup back to the investor, and that should be an immediate deal killer for every single founder.
An investor should never take operating cash from the company they just invested in.
Not for consulting.
Not for introductions.
Not for “strategic support.”
If an investor needs the company to pay them in order to help the company succeed, something fundamental is already broken.
The most common version of this shows up during fundraising. A shark investor promises something founders desperately want: access.
“I can introduce you to top tier funds.”
“I know partners at Sequoia.”
“I make a bunch of intros to my friends and we’ll have this round closed in no time. Trust me.”
Sometimes it is explicit. Sometimes it is implied.
Then comes the structure: “Let’s set up a small advisory agreement while we work together.”
Maybe it’s five thousand dollars a month. Maybe ten. At that moment it feels reasonable. Fundraising is existential, and if someone can unlock capital, the cost feels trivial.
But here is what usually happens.
The introductions never come. Or they are weak. Or they clearly are not real relationships. Meanwhile the startup writes monthly checks back to that “investor”.
Five thousand dollars.
Ten thousand dollars.
Six months pass. Maybe a year. The investor has quietly turned the startup into a consulting client, which is an impressive trick.
They convinced you to pay them.
Look at how the best investors actually behave.
When Peter Thiel invested in Facebook in 2004, he did not charge Mark Zuckerberg advisory fees. When Sequoia backed companies like Apple, Google, and WhatsApp, they did not invoice founders for introductions or strategy. When Benchmark invested in Uber, Bill Gurley did not send Travis Kalanick consulting bills.
The model is simple: investors invest. They help when it increases the value of their investment. Their upside is equity. That is the whole point.
Because the firms already own equity. If the company wins, they win.
Charging founders directly would be absurd.
Real venture capital is hard. You need access to good deals, patience, and judgment. And you often wait ten years to see whether you were right, and that is a long time to wait to get paid.
Shark investors shortcut the model. Instead of making money when startups succeed, they make money immediately.
Monthly consulting fees, advisory retainers, paid introductions.
They turn venture investing into a services business. Services businesses generate predictable revenue.
But there is also a psychological dynamic: founders are vulnerable during fundraising. They want access to networks they do not yet have. They want credibility. They want introductions.
Sharks sell the illusion of access. Sometimes they even believe their own pitch. But incentives tell the real story.
If someone makes money whether or not your company succeeds, their incentives are not aligned with yours.
The financial cost is rarely what kills a startup; ten thousand dollars a month will not sink a company by itself.
The real cost is distraction. Sharks consume founder attention. They create the illusion of progress. They make it feel like the fundraising machine is working.
Meanwhile nothing actually moves. Time passes. The runway disappears. And the founder realizes too late that the “strategic advisor” was just a consultant with a better title.
Founders often look for complicated signals when evaluating investors: brand names, twitter followers, past exits.
But two very simple signals tell you far more.
An investor wants you to pay them? RED FLAG.
An investor offers to help for free. Green flag.
The second signal is surprisingly powerful because real investors understand something simple: helping their companies succeed is the highest leverage thing they can do.
They do not need consulting fees. They already own equity.
One thing founders underestimate is how long investor relationships last. A cap table is not a short partnership; it is often a ten year marriage. Sometimes longer.
The people you let onto your cap table will influence hiring, strategy, fundraising, and major decisions for years, and that is a long time to share a boat.
If you accidentally invite a shark aboard, you will spend most of that time trying to stop it from eating you and your crew.
Most investors are neutral. They write a check. They attend board meetings. They stay out of the way. That is survivable.
What founders must avoid are negative investors; the ones who extract value, distort incentives, and quietly turn your startup into their consulting client.
There are a lot of sharks swimming in the waters of venture capital, and it’s incumbent on founders to make sure none of them end up on your cap table.
