Networks: The Founder's Hidden Asset

Why connections matter more than you think

Networks are the invisible scaffolding of success. As an immigrant turned angel investor, I've navigated various networks that have shaped my journey and informed my perspective on the startup ecosystem. This essay explores my path through these networks, from immigrant circles to finance professionals, and ultimately to the world of startups and web3. 

My experiences underscore a crucial lesson for founders: your network is your net worth. Whether you're recruiting talent, seeking customers, or raising capital, the strength of your connections can make or break your venture. Here's how I've seen this play out, and how you can harness the power of networks in your startup journey.

Over nearly two decades in America, I've experienced firsthand how different networks can propel one's journey. From my early days as an immigrant to my current role in the startup ecosystem, each network has offered unique lessons and opportunities. Now, as I engage more deeply with startup founders, I'm applying these insights to help them navigate their own network-building challenges. In the following sections, I'll share my journey through various networks and distill key takeaways for founders looking to leverage connections in their entrepreneurial pursuits.

My journey began with the immigrant network. Fellow Eastern Europeans in the Bay Area not only helped me navigate my new life but also introduced me to my next crucial network: students. A stroke of luck led me to a house on Treasure Island with three Belarusian student roommates. Despite a rocky start (I crashed one roommate's motorcycle and had to pay for it), this connection proved invaluable. When two of my roommates got into UC Berkeley's Haas School of Business, it shattered my preconceptions about what was possible for a new immigrant. Inspired, I enrolled at City College of San Francisco, starting from scratch despite my prior physics studies. Two years later, I followed in my roommates' footsteps and entered Berkeley myself.

Berkeley was my crash course in American culture. The curriculum was decent but narrow in focus. Undergrads were funneled into accounting, banking, or consulting—paths that promised high starting salaries.

At Berkeley, I plugged into a new network: the Delta Sigma Pi fraternity, full of aspiring investment bankers. While there was some groupthink, many of us eventually branched out into diverse careers post-graduation.

Berkeley has evolved significantly since my time there. The business school now emphasizes engineering and technology, with a growing focus on web3 through initiatives like Blockchain@Berkeley. This shift reflects the changing landscape of business and technology.

After graduation, I dove into the finance world, landing a job with renowned banker Frank Quattrone. It didn't take long to realize that finance wasn't my forte—or my passion. The silver lining? Working with tech companies. I vividly recall meeting Palo Alto Networks executives, only to return to the office and grapple with spreadsheets. That contrast made me question my career path. It was clear: I was more energized by the tech side than the finance side.

After quitting finance, I took my first plunge into entrepreneurship. A friend's dog had died due to a vet's mistake, inspiring us to start an animal healthcare startup. We had good intentions and I had savings, but that was about it. Too many conflicting voices and not enough focus led to a quick demise. The startup failed, taking my savings with it. It was an expensive lesson in what not to do.

When my startup failed, I was broke. No savings, no rent money. But my network—built during my immigrant days and at Berkeley—became my safety net. Friends offered their floors for me to crash on. It was a humbling reminder: in tough times, your network is your lifeline.

My next move was into tech, joining MuleSoft (later acquired by Salesforce) and then MemSQL (now SingleStore). Here, I tapped into a new network: young, ambitious go-to-market professionals. MuleSoft's hiring was top-notch, with exceptional sales leadership. The talent around me was incredible—many remain close friends and valuable connections today. Founders take note: these folks are goldmines for early-stage sales strategy.

I jumped from MuleSoft to MemSQL, trading stability for chaos and learning potential. At a tenth the size, MemSQL was a different beast entirely. The chaos exceeded my expectations, but so did the opportunities. In a smaller company, boundaries blur. I worked closely with product, engineering, marketing, and ops teams, gaining insights across the entire business. Surprisingly, I found myself gravitating towards the engineers, just like in my Berkeley days. This cross-functional exposure was invaluable—it's something I now look for when evaluating startups.

At MemSQL, I befriended Alex Skidanov, the company's first employee. After five years of building the core database product, Alex was itching to explore AI. He left to pursue two ideas: a phone-based personal assistant and a code-generation tool. I briefly helped with the latter, but it felt premature—it felt like we were a decade too early. While these ventures didn't succeed, they led Alex to a crucial connection. At a recruitment dinner, he met Illia Polosukhin, a restless Google employee. Illia wasn't the intended recruit, but he ended up joining Alex's team. Their timing was off, but their instincts were spot-on. Years later, similar ideas flourished: GitHub's Copilot dominates the code generation space, while startups like Cursor are making waves. It's a reminder that being too early is just as challenging as being too late in the startup world.

When Alex's second AI venture failed, a new door opened: web3. I was helping recruit our friend Misha to this pivoted startup when another friend, Jimmy, suggested I join the ride myself. It was a wild proposition, but I took the leap. This decision would reshape my career trajectory and introduce me to an entirely new network.

Entering the web3 world, I found myself in a tight-knit community of about 500 founders, mostly building on Ethereum. I spoke with nearly all of them, using their feedback to shape our product. We pivoted from focusing on scalability to prioritizing user experience—a crucial shift. 

The market was tiny. With only about 30 new engineers joining monthly, and 29 of those choosing Ethereum, our decision to build in this space seemed irrational on paper. But the bear market had an upside: it filtered out the opportunists, leaving only the true believers. The grifters wouldn't arrive until 2020. 

This experience taught me a valuable lesson: sometimes, the most promising opportunities lie in markets that seem too small or challenging to be worthwhile.

After several rewarding years in web3, I've shifted focus to a broader network: startup founders across all sectors. This year alone, I've engaged with over 315 startups. It's a crash course in angel investing—I'm learning to make smart bets with small checks and how to add value beyond capital. Each interaction sharpens my instincts and expands my ability to help founders succeed.

Investment decisions are never easy. But I've noticed a common thread among successful founders: they leverage their networks relentlessly. Whether it's recruiting top talent, landing key customers, or securing funding, a founder's network often makes the difference. It's not just about who you know—it's about how effectively you can activate those connections when it matters most.

Early-stage startups face a recruiting challenge: no brand recognition means job postings attract mostly unqualified or weak candidates. Smart founders bypass this by tapping into their networks—and their backers' networks—for talent. It's not just about who you know, but who they know. 

The best startups take this further. They treat each new hire as a potential recruiting channel, scanning their social graphs for more talent. Some even make networking a job requirement, sending employees out for "coffee dates" that double as recruiting missions. 

This approach isn't just efficient—it's effective. Network hires often fit better culturally and hit the ground running faster. In the startup world, your network isn't just an asset—it's your hiring lifeline.

Cold outreach is a slog. Warm connections are your startup's secret weapon for landing customers. I learned this firsthand at NEAR, and it's a strategy I push every founder to adopt. Don't just tap your own network—leverage your entire ecosystem. Investors, advisors, even early employees—they're all extensions of your sales force. Their introductions can open doors that would otherwise remain firmly shut.

Investors use warm introductions as a filter. It's not just about the idea—it's about your ability to network. Can you hustle your way to a good intro? That's your first test. It shows you can navigate the startup ecosystem, a crucial skill for any founder. So when raising funds, your network isn't just helpful—it's essential. Each warm intro can spark a chain reaction, leading to more conversations and, ultimately, to closed deals.

Networks aren't just nice to have—they're essential. They shape careers, build companies, and open doors. On a personal level, they're your safety net and growth catalyst. Professionally, they're your talent pool, customer base, and funding pipeline. The most successful founders I've seen don't just leverage their networks; they obsessively cultivate and expand them. In the startup world, your network is your net worth.