Engaging with a diverse group of individuals in the startup ecosystem means I frequently find myself among those who believe in the potential of underdogs to triumph—that David can indeed defeat Goliath. Despite this optimism, each year witnesses 90% of these courageous entrepreneurs face defeat, only for a new wave of hopefuls to emerge, ready to challenge the daunting odds.

A friend, whom I've grown close to over the past few months, spent the last year endeavoring to launch a startup. However, just last week, he decided to pivot, redirecting his focus towards a future in academia. This decision came to light during our commute back from a meeting, prompting me to ponder the reasons behind such a shift. My conclusion was that individuals might underestimate the sheer commitment and grind necessary for startup success, succumb to burnout, or become captivated by alternative pursuits. This reflection led me to consider why, year after year, many embark on this formidable journey with nothing but their dreams and legal paperwork, and why some, like my friend, ultimately choose a different path altogether.

I contend that the allure is not solely financial. In the realm of startups, outcomes tend to be binary: you either succeed or you don't. While there are degrees of success, the difference in life impact beyond a certain financial threshold is arguably minimal. Statistically, the likelihood of a startup's success is a mere 1%. Purely from a numerical standpoint, one might argue that pursuing a lucrative career in engineering, banking, or private equity offers a higher probability of financial gain. The potential for astronomical earnings in startups is undeniably attractive, yet the actual odds of achieving such success are considerably lower. Nevertheless, I believe the average startup enthusiast is not merely blinded by potential riches but driven by deeper motivations.

This brings us to the fundamental question: Why do people venture into startups?

For me, the answer lies in ambition. I am driven by the desire to engage in high-impact projects, especially those that excel in distribution. There's a profound satisfaction in knowing my efforts may save someone time, extend their life, or enhance their quality of living in a meaningful way. The idea that my work positively affects others' lives fuels my passion.

Aware that I could always return to academia or secure a position in a high-paying corporation or dynamic startup, I was compelled to pursue a path that would enable me to contribute value to those around me, acquire new skills, and make a tangible difference rather than making incremental improvements on the legacy of others.

However, ambition comes with its challenges. The CEO of Basecamp eloquently highlights the dual nature of ambition. In moderation, it serves as a powerful motivator, pushing us beyond our comfort zones and sustaining us through difficult times. Ambition is rightly celebrated for its positive influence. Yet, it also harbors a darker, addictive aspect that is seldom discussed. Excessive ambition can distort our perception of success, rendering anything short of astronomical achievement as failure. This mindset is not only irrational but akin to psychological addiction, resistant to logical counterarguments. When ambition reaches extreme levels, it introduces immense pressure and anxiety, diminishing the joy of success and amplifying the bitterness of failure. Winning becomes expected, and any victory is quickly overshadowed by the pursuit of the next goal.

A conversation with an entrepreneur who recently sold his company for billions reinforced a crucial insight: those who enter the startup world motivated solely by financial gain rarely achieve significant success. It is the thrill of the journey, the love of the challenge, that distinguishes the most successful entrepreneurs.

In essence, my motivation for diving into the startup arena can be encapsulated in a simple phrase:

I genuinely wanted to see if I could make it.