On Monday, July 21st, I got a dose of realism in the best possible way. I was invited by Cosmin Sava to a workshop for the HighFlyers program—a VSFA and RBL project that does exactly what a good business accelerator should do: it gets a bunch of sharp business minds in a room and invites them to be brutally honest about their companies. Alongside Radu Glonț and Sorin Trifu, I sat across from four teams with businesses in cutting-edge fields—SaaS, communications, robotics. The kind of people who give you hope.
What I found there was a rare combination of sharp ideas, ambition, and, most importantly, a genuine desire to subject their business models to critical examination. And, paradoxically, it was because the level was so high that certain patterns began to emerge. Not the kind of mistakes you see from rookies, but the kind of subtle traps you fall into precisely because you're good and you're starting to succeed.
I've jotted them down below, not as a critique—on the contrary, the participants were genuinely keen for feedback—but as a checklist titled, "Wait, Am I Doing That Too?"
1. Pricing as a Math Problem, Not a Psychology Problem
The first thing that caught my eye was the approach to pricing. It's a subject everyone seems to have a complicated relationship with. I see that for many, setting a price is a purely technical exercise, governed by one of two models:
- The Mimicry Rationale: "The competition sells for $100. Since I'm new, I'll sell for $85. Makes sense, right?"
- The Accountant's Rationale: "It costs me $50 to make. I'll add a 30% margin, and there's my price."
Both approaches are, of course, relevant starting points. The problem is that, used in isolation, they're incomplete. They solve the economic problem but remain completely blind to the most important aspect: price isn't just a pragmatic financial tool; it's a signal. It's the fastest way to tell a customer what to think about you—meaning, price structures the perception of value. Reducing it to a simple mathematical operation means voluntarily giving up one of your most powerful marketing tools. A pricing strategy shouldn't come from an accountant's Excel file but from a deep understanding of the market: What problem does the product solve? What is the perceived value of that solution? How is quality encoded in the consumer's mind in this category? A price that's too low doesn't scream "Bargain!"; it whispers, "We're probably not that good."
What to do? Stop calculating your price like an accountant—start designing it. Begin with the question, "What do I want the customer to believe about me when they see this number?" And only then, working from that answer, can you build your price.
2. Confusing Table Stakes with Trump Cards
Then came the classic moment. I often heard lines like, "Our platform is very stable," or "We have excellent customer support." That's wonderful, but it's not a competitive advantage. It's table stakes. It's like a restaurant bragging about having clean plates. You don't go there because they have clean plates; you simply expect them to.
And here's a beautiful paradox: I've noticed that the most conscientious entrepreneurs, the ones who work the hardest to excel at everything, including these "operational hygiene" standards, are the most prone to confusing them with a real differentiator. They're so focused on doing everything by the book that they forget to look at what they're doing outside the book. Their real advantage usually lies in unique things they consider ordinary: a proprietary methodology, a distinct aesthetic taste, an ultra-niche expertise. Basically, they're so busy polishing the floor that they don't notice the Picasso hanging on the wall.
What to do? Take a piece of paper and make two columns: "What do we have to do to not go broke?" (standards) and "What do we do that nobody else does?" (uniqueness). Then start building your brand positioning around the second column.
3. The "Rich Country" Fetish
"We want to expand to Germany." Why? "Because... it's Germany." I've heard this so many times. There's a fetish for Western European markets, an almost mystical belief that if it's a rich country, it must be the perfect market for my business.
It's like dreaming of marrying a Hollywood star just because they're famous, without ever asking if you have anything in common. A "rich" market is often a saturated market, full of local competitors with advantages you can't touch and customers who already have ten other solutions to the problem you're trying to solve. The chase for that symbolic validation—"We're in [insert-country-with-high-GDP-here]!"—can make you miss a huge opportunity in a market considered "boring." There are plenty of businesses making huge profits in not-so-sexy markets, so why would you exclude them from your equation?
What to do? Forget the "top countries by GDP" lists. See the market simply as "a group of people with a problem that I can solve better than others." Then figure out where on the planet you can find the most of those people who can afford your solution. You might be surprised.
4. The Pointless Fight: The Ego of B2C vs. the Finances of B2B
One of the most interesting cases stemmed from a contradiction I've seen before (though not often). On paper, the B2B model was a dream: decent profitability, recurring clients, predictability. In reality, all the energy was being channeled into B2C, a model that, even with a fairly large customer base, still wasn't making money.
Why does this happen? Because we're human, so social needs remain a priority, and B2C helps with exactly that: it gives you symbolic capital. You can tell your friends, "My product is in every store, everyone's seen it," or "You know how many customers I have? A few million!" It's a powerful feeling. B2B, on the other hand, gives you the status of an "anonymous supplier." It's less sexy, but it slowly and surely fills your bank account. So sometimes, we're not choosing between two business models, but between two emotional needs: being famous versus being rich.
What to do? Have a brutally honest conversation with yourself. One that gives you a direct and honest answer to the question, "What do I really want?" If it's money—follow the numbers. Economic capital is what will eventually afford you the luxury of investing in symbolic capital at the right time.
5. The Paradox of Abundance: When Success Makes You Lose Your Way
Here's a subtle trap that, most often, comes not from failure, but from success. When your business starts doing well, you become a magnet for opportunities. Everyone wants something from you: a partnership, a new service, an adaptation of your existing product. And, naturally, you think, "It would be stupid to miss this opportunity!"
And just like that, without realizing it, you start chasing two rabbits at once. You add a new service, then another. The result? A loss of focus. Instead of being the best at one thing, you end up being mediocre (in the best-case scenario) at five different things. The problem isn't anxiety, it's abundance. Too many open doors leave you stuck in the hallway.
What to do? Say "no." A lot. Defend the territory you've just conquered. Get so good at your niche that it becomes absurd for customers not to choose you. Expansion is a luxury you can afford after you've won the war at home.
6. The Visionary Myth: It's More Comfortable to Think You're Steve Jobs Than to Pick Up the Phone
This last bias is my favorite because it's the most perverse—the absence of real dialogue with the customer. And no, it's not about laziness. I'd blame it more on the fact that the myth of the visionary genius—the one who invents things the world didn't even know it needed—is incredibly seductive.
It's much more pleasant to think of yourself as a visionary receiving divine inspiration than to call five customers and listen to them praise you one minute and curse you out the next. The reality of feedback is messy, contradictory, and requires a lot of work. The myth is clean and heroic... and impossible. So, all too often, we (unconsciously) choose the myth. The problem is that for every successful Steve Jobs, there are a million entrepreneurs who went bankrupt thinking they were Steve Jobs too. Building a product for a consumer you've never spoken to is just an elegant way of playing the lottery with your own money.
What to do? Take on the role of an amateur anthropologist, if you can't afford to hire one. Treat dialogue with the consumer as a business function, not as some chore that knocks the crown off your head. Even Bernard Arnault is famous for spending his weekends in his own stores. That's because the most valuable insights aren't found in PowerPoint charts, but at the end of a conversation with a real customer.
In Conclusion: A Welcome Dose of Reality
What did I take away from that day? A healthy dose of realism. For entrepreneurs, exercises like these are a necessary confrontation with a fresh, outside perspective. For us, the marketing and branding specialists, they're a chance to test our theoretical models in the wild. It's the best kind of trade. We offer an analytical framework; they offer us contact with the complex and often contradictory reality of the market. And for that, I thank them.
