What Cold War Spies taught me about Venture Capital

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My father spent his career in the Central Intelligence Agency.   His specialty was communications.   Which for the CIA includes traditional communications and eavesdropping or listening devices.   The anniversary of his death in 1997 passed recently and it caused me to consider him, his influence on my life and my current career.

You see, Cold War spies taught me a lot about being a good Venture Capitalist.

Now I didn't know my father worked at the CIA until later in my teen years when he retired, but when I did find out that he worked there, it was enlightening.  Some loops closed.

Some things made sense to me that previously hadn't quite added up.  Like the personal thank you note to my father from Richard Nixon.  Or why was I born in 1959 Pendaiya, Cyprus in British Army hospital in the middle of a war to throw off British colonial rule. (Succeeded in 1960, Good job, Colonel Grivas!History )  Or why we had an unusual number of home movies of the Berlin Wall from the early 1960's, for example, or why my father was friends with all the Watergate burglars (who had all been to the house).  Or who or what were the most intriguing group of people I've ever seen gathered in a room  -- they were Cold War spies.  The real kind of spy.  The one who parachutes in, gets something done and gets out by whatever means that are available to them. No secret extraction mission. No bus or plane ticket out. The spy who seeks to cause a riot, or foment a revolution or steal a secret without leaving a footprint, fingerprint or trace of their involvement.  The one who does this knowing, that if caught, the United States Government will disavow them completely. The one who does it again and again for all intrinsic reward.  People who worked at great risk for little money.

The spies were gathered in the living room on our home in Kailua, Hawaii in the summer of 1970 on Sunday afternoon.  Drinking beer, watching sports, talking quietly.  They were just different in a way I couldn't grasp.  It was a busy time for the CIA then as the Viet Nam war was current.  As was a secret CIA war in Laos.  And then, of course, the C.I.A and the people gathered there were working on a massive project to raise a sunken Russian submarine from the ocean floor nearby to steal its secrets. (The Glomar Explorer)

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But to me, at 10 years old, I sensed the gentlemen present were very different than regular people or anyone I'd ever seen.   There was the guy who could cross his legs at the knee and put both feet on the floor.  Hadn't seen that before or since.  He was quiet and small but not dismiss-able.   Power in a small package. Or the quiet middle aged man who was completely non-descript.  You really had to pay attention to see him in any group, he was adept at fading into a room or crowd unlike anyone I've ever met.  I saw him years later as an adult and was even more impressed by his ability.  He had spent a great deal of time in the Middle East and spoke Arabic.   Not that he would tell you that.  It might be better to say he understood Arabic but rarely spoke it as that would let others know he understood them. He was fine with them thinking he didn't know what they were saying.   Or the big, boisterous, Irish guy, who when I ran him into years later responded to the traditional "what are you up to?" with the response "If you knew, I'd have to kill you" when that retort was still 10 years from being a commonplace joke.   Given his history of parachuting out of planes into African backwater countries, it all had a palpable resonance and prompted an uneasy grin.

I asked my father, "who are these guys?" and he responded that he worked with them in his job as a civilian working for the US Navy in Pearl Harbor.    Which I accepted on face value.  But in the years, that followed I would ask about them, where they were and how they were doing.  I tracked them conversationally, in a manner of speaking and to the degree that I was told the truth, for twenty years.  They fascinated me from the time I met them.  They were extraordinary people who did level best to appear as normal as possible.  And they made more aware of the fact that extraordinary won't often appear that way on the surface.

The spies ascribed to certain principles including understanding that one can achieve great things and influence the course of events without leading the parade or, for that matter, being in it.   That there is no substitute for courage either in your convictions or your actions.   And sometimes one's greatest achievements won't ever be recognized, but that doesn't really make them any less great.  That there is no less dignity working in the shadows than the limelight.

So, as a venture capitalist, I attempt to find extraordinary people.  And they do a good job of appearing normal.  I have to sort them from people who are normal but present themselves as extraordinary.   I seek to influence the course of events in the companies I back without a heavy hand and certainly without leaving any mark.   I make decisions which rely on the courage of my convictions.   And I don't worry about whether any one understands my role in the outcome.   For the Cold War spies then and for me now, it is about the outcome.   And achieving a great outcome, or being part of one, is reward in itself.

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