The other day I posted 5 Entrepreneurship Basics B-Schools Can Teach. It’s natural to follow that list here with the exact opposite: 5 other entrepreneurship basics the business schools can’t teach. But I couldn’t quite do it. I had to change can’t to don’t. That, to me, is a significant difference. So here they are  (things they don’t teach, not necessarily things they can’t teach):

1. Dealing with people

Sure, you can teach organizational management, and there are rules for employees, lots of advice on selling, buying, leadership, and all that. But can anybody really teach empathy? Do you learn how other people feel by sitting in a classroom, or by working with (and living with) them. I like the new network television show (Lie to Me — pictured here to the right) where they read physical signs like facial expressions to know who’s telling the truth and who’s lying. The rest of us need a lifetime to figure that out, and, let’s face it, we probably never do.

How about the basics of self interest, like starting every business communication with “you” and the benefits for the reader or listener? Or figuring out who’s likely to be a long-term ally, and who isn’t? Or figuring out that selling right is listening first, and solving people’s problems? Some business schools try to teach that stuff. Most fail.

2. Right and wrong

I know business schools are trying to teach business ethics, but it’s so hard because there are so many different views, and social and political constraints; and ethics means different things to different people.

My bias on this point is that businesses that act in ways that help the community, and their employees, and their customers, and the earth and the environment, and all that jazz, will do better over the long term. Things like fair play and, at the very least, doing no harm, are critical to long-term success.

Fairness is so important. No business deal or alliance will work over any useful time frame unless it offers benefits to both sides. Screwing people is not a successful business model. But can that be taught? I can’t even prove it, let alone teach it.

3. Having a life

With all the baloney we spread about entrepreneurship passion and perseverance and persistence and all, where in the curriculum do we teach putting business in the right order of priorities? Who teaches that it’s easier to find a new job, or build a new business, than a new spouse? Which class is that?

Business schools and business academics undervalue life as they (we) teach starting a business as the classic high-end getting financed and getting an exit. There’s way too little attention to what we (with a sneer, usually) call a “lifestyle” business, or, for that matter, starting up via bootstrapping instead of outside investment. And nobody teaches how to decide what to do when a crucial business meeting interferes with a kid’s soccer practice.

Every class in entrepreneurship should have at least one session with somebody who got so obsessed with the business that they lost the rest of their life. It happens a lot. It needs to show up in the classroom too.

4. Managing risk

I don’t mean the technical side of risk management. Business schools are generally excellent at teaching the numbers and analysis of risk, mathematical tools to evaluate the time value of money, for example, and formulas to compare technical investment risk like the internal rate of return (IRR).

I do mean living with risk. Not betting things you can’t afford to lose. How to sleep at night when your customers owe you enough to destroy you simply by failing to pay what they owe. How to figure out which spend is a reasonable risk for generating a future payback, and which isn’t. How it feels to take a second mortgage, or how it feels to tell a graduating high-school senior with a great record that there isn’t enough money for the college he or she has earned.

Don’t take risks if you can’t live with the downside consequences.

5. When to hold and when to fold

One of the hardest thing we do, in startups and small business, is figuring out when to stick to the plan and when to back up and try something else. There are no magic formulas, no software that can do that for us. It wraps up a combination of guessing the future, projecting different possible scenarios, understanding what’s at stake, and figuring out where assumptions were wrong, where sticking to the plan makes sense, and where it’s going to be like running your head against a brick wall over and over.

Reflection: teaching with stories

How do we teach any of this? The best hope, I think, is by telling stories: Stories of failures, stories of problems, challenges met, situations, and so on. We do deal with business cases in business schools, and cases, when done well, are a lot like stories. Of course the value depends on a couple of important factors, like the case itself (real business, or big business?) and the teacher. True stories, told by the people who lived them, can be better than business cases.

Final thought:

Am I wrong on this? Maybe my experience is out of date. If the business schools are getting better on this, I’d like to know. I’d be very happy to be proven wrong.

I’ve been asked a lot lately about business schools and entrepreneurship, which is why I did this post, last Friday, about one thing wrong in that area; and then this one yesterday, on whether business schools can teach entrepreneurship. That’s become a very interesting discussion. I expect to post on it again, if only just to summarize some of those comments.

So, in the meantime, looking at Twitter and comment reactions to yesterday’s post, I sat down today and thought about what you can learn about entrepreneurship in a classroom, that will help you be a successful entrepreneur. Not that you can’t also learn all of this from books, websites, mentors, and advisors too; but learning it in class might be more efficient.

1. Cash flow

Cash flow is critical but not intuitive. Cash isn’t profits. That ebb and flow of cash related to accounts receivable and inventory management, collection days and payment days. This one by itself justifies studying entrepreneurship. Studying this in the classroom is way better than learning it the hard way. One cash flow disaster (running out of money) in business can cost you more than two years in business school. Easily.

2. Business planning

Yes, I really like business planning. I’ve liked it since I was first exposed to it in the middle 1970s. Don’t get bogged down in the formal academic full business plan, necessarily; but business planning is a great way to see a whole business, from strategic focus to objectives to specific milestones, tasks, responsibilities, management, sales, marketing, and finance. And it’s a great tool for teaching.

3. General business fundamentals

Never underestimate the fundamentals of strategy, marketing, data gathering, finance, and analytical thinking. There’s a lot to be said for learning how to translate concepts to numbers and back to concepts. Not to mention vocabulary, and analytical frameworks, and methodologies for isolating problems and layout out solutions. Disciplines and methodologies are good to know. And hey, buzzwords don’t hurt.

4. Communication skills

Writing — clear, simple communication, in practical English sentences — is so important. It is so often underestimated. And presentation skills, focusing on what’s most important and communicating that to others. My experience is that good business schools teach that.

5. Skepticism

A good education can teach you what not to believe, and why not. Enthusiasm is great, and you hear so much about passion and persistence and all, but not without a basis for reviewing what makes sense and what doesn’t.

The question continues: study entrepreneurship, or just jump in? Does a degree help? Can anybody teach entrepreneurship in the classroom? Can anybody learn it?

You may have seen this post here from last week, about one problem with entrepreneurship education. That post was enhanced by John Wren’s comment there:

I haven’t seen any research that shows a connection between being a successful entrepreneur and having studied entrepreneurship, have you?

Interesting emphasis on research there. Can anything be true or false without research? Does a tree fall in the forest if there’s no rigorous research that says so? It would be hard to research this right, because entrepreneurship is a relatively new idea in university business schools. The idea has exploded in the last 10-20 years, but a lot of the all-stars didn’t really have a choice. That makes meaningful research less likely.

Research or not, education is good when it works; when it fits with life. Short cuts are good too. Knowledge is good. Wasting time is bad. All of that can be school.

Education in trade or business related subjects is about making things better, faster, and easier. If you can learn in a day in class what would take you a roller-coaster ride through the hard knocks, is that better? If Bill Gates did Microsoft without studying entrepreneurship, does that mean you don’t want to?

Things change. Shakespeare didn’t have a PhD in Literature. So how did he learn Shakespeare?

I think the value of studying entrepreneurship depends a lot on the specific case. Not that these are the only cases, or polar opposites, but:

• Start with the basic truth of studying what interests you. Don’t study business to get ahead in business; study business because you’re interested. Don’t study literature to get ahead, or science or math, either.
• If life gives you a valid choice, general education is better than business education. I’m really glad I studied Literature first, then Journalism, then business. I’m glad my children majored in education, history, psychology, and political science instead of business. First learn to think, analyze, read, and write, and you can learn business later. Not everybody gets that choice. Not everybody wants it. But if you can, that’s good.
• Entrepreneurship is the best of business. You have to get your head around the whole business, not some functional part. Studying entrepreneurship is the best way to study business.
• It’s not for nothing that I’ve spend a long time focused mainly on business planning. That’s also about getting around the whole business, not just parts. Strategy, operations, marketing, finance, they all come together in startups and small business. Which we call entrepreneurship.
• When it works out right for you it can be a big advantage, you’re already in school, and you’re interested in the subject, it’s a natural part of that time of life that people dedicate to learning, it can be a huge advantage. I did business school exactly at a career inflection point, jumping from business journalism to business, and it worked really well for me. Entrepreneurship would have been even better, but that wasn’t an option. Today, for you, it is.

Ultimately, there’s no formula here that works. You have to decide for yourself. I’m really glad for my two years in business school, even if they weren’t teaching entrepreneurship. That doesn’t mean I recommend it for everybody.

I’m not saying this is the only problem. And, by the way, I’m in favor of entrepreneurship education, when it’s done well. I think it helps … but that’s another post.

It’s a simple story. It’s a real problem with business education concerning entrepreneurship in top institutions. It happens way too often. Not that it’s the only problem with entrepreneurship education, but it’s harder to spot.

Take an imaginary person named Leslie who’s interested in entrepreneurship and wants to study it and then teach it, as a career. Here’s what happens.

First, she enrolls in a good graduate school intending to get a doctorate degree. In business grad schools, the MBAs study for two years to get jobs in business, not to teach business. Yet it takes a doctorate to teach business in a good school, as a career. Yes, there are exceptions to that rule, but Leslie is focused and motivated so she wants the best path to the best career opportunities, which means she needs the PhD degree. That’s a matter of academic records, standardized testing, essays, and recommendations, pretty much the same process people go through to get into college or university.

As she gets used to her studies and the general path to doctorate and teaching career she discovers, within the first year or so, that the academic study of business divides itself into standard groups; marketing, finance, operations, and so on, that don’t really include entrepreneurship (yet). And those functional divisions have generated a small set of academic journals, fewer than the fingers on one hand in most cases, that control her future. And the system of rewards and such within the small world of doctors of business is shockingly (to Leslie) well defined. Here is what she finds out:

1. She can’t get the doctorate without a thesis.
2. She’s not going to get into the upper echelon she wants for her career unless her thesis is published by one of those academic journals.
3. And those journals focus on the standard specialties: marketing, finance, operations, etc. Not entrepreneurship.

Result: if she’s ambitious, Leslie drops the focus on entrepreneurship and moves over to finance or marketing or something else that’s more established within the academic hierarchies. And you, dear reader, can go from there to the other logical conclusions.

Think about the impact on education in entrepreneurship at the big business schools. Maybe it’s a good thing because it means more real-world entrepreneurs teaching, even if they’re normally adjunct instructors instead of professors. And maybe it’s not so good because it relegates entrepreneurship and the study of entrepreneurship to a lower rung on the career ladder. I don’t know.

If you’re out there in academia, reading this, and I’ve got it wrong, please tell me. I’ve had a chance to watch how this works. I haven’t been down this path myself, but I’ve been an adjunct instructor for a few years, teaching one class per year at the University of Oregon.

(photo credit: lynnlin/Shutterstock (modified by me))

If you teach entrepreneurship, please join me tomorrow for a webinar on the top 10 tips in teaching entrepreneurship using business planning. I’m going to be looking back on more than 10 years of teaching starting a business using business plans. I hope I’ve picked up a few tips that might help.

NACCE (that’s National Association for Community College Entrepreneurship) membership is not required, but it’s a good organization, if you’re teaching entrepreneurship, you’ll find it useful.

Regardless, please join me in the webinar tomorrow, Tuesday, June 9, 2007; 4pm Eastern – 1pm Pacific Time.

Comedian Robert Klein has a routine where he grabs a consumer fruit drink that claims “contains 10% fruit juice,” and asks: “What about the other 90 percent?”
And the graduating class of Harvard MBAs last week had a special new code, A Promise to Be Ethical in an Era of Immorality that 20% of the graduating MBAs signed. The New York Times reported:

Nearly 20 percent of the graduating class have signed “The M.B.A. Oath,” a voluntary student-led pledge that the goal of a business manager is to “serve the greater good.” It promises that Harvard M.B.A.’s will act responsibly, ethically and refrain from advancing their “own narrow ambitions” at the expense of others.

And I can’t help asking: what about the other 80%?

Adeo Ressi doesn’t like what he calls a slanted field on the deals entrepreneurs get from investors. He says (I’m quoting):

Honestly, I think that the entrepreneur gets a raw deal today, and that this has gotten a lot worse since I started in 1994. Entrepreneurs are victims of a lot of predatory and exploitative behavior.

This has been bad for a while, but it’s gotten much worse. And it hurts the country, and the economy. We need to fix the availability of capital for entrepreneurs.

That led to The Funded Founder Institute, a four-month, $450 program to run selected entrepreneurs (including, by the way, wanna-be entrepreneurs) through weekly sessions with mentors and experts, ending with a certification that should smooth the path to investment. Microsoft BizSpark scholarships are available too, to pay the $450.

Adeo is serious about smoothing the path for founders. He says:

If we could eliminate all the headaches that the modern bureaucratic layering adds to start a company, and allow these founders to focus on the core business challenge, the likelihood of success increases dramatically. We want them learning how to do it right.

A brief interruption before I go on: this looks like a really good program to me, even though it’s brand new, and not certified formally by anybody else. Adeo has a good reputation, knows a lot of the right people, and he’s done some important things before. I think the certification he’s offering is likely to be very valuable. So if you’re interested apply now. Applications close for the first session, which starts this month, May 9. The application costs $50.

Look at some of the mentors already on board. Several are major Web names, founders or CEOs of Scribd, Mahalo, Socialtext, and so on. And Adeo told me has many more, including other mentors as well known as some of these, in the wings.

Adeo himself gives this program a lot of credibility. He’s the founder and main force behind TheFunded.com, a site I’ve posted about before, entrepreneurs reviewing investors. He got his skeptical view of investors the hard way, building companies. Game Trusts, one of his more recent efforts, won $15 million in venture capital and exited with acquisition by Real Networks.

He’s serious about leveling the playing field. The institute has posted sample startup documents including suggested deal terms more favorable to entrepreneurs than most. And the institute is offering to arbitrate disputes.

It’s also taking a piece of the action, which it’s hoping to reinvest in the long-term health of the program. Adeo says there will be warrants, linked to equity, as a “vehicle of valuable attribution.” That’s for “value as a sign to the mentors and the founders. And 60% of the warrant value goes right back to the participants. The remaining 40% is held by the institute as a value play.”

What if you had to take the classic business plan, developed for an MBA-level venture competition, and shrink it down to 10 pages?

Last Friday I spent a fun and fascinating day as a semi-finals judge at the University of Oregon New Venture Competition. My part of the program was evaluating four ventures developed by MBA students from Clemson, Northwestern, Penn State, and Michigan, along with three other judges. That was one of five flights, so there were 20 teams, selected from more than 100 entrants.

The new rules for this year gave them 10 pages for the business plan, plus up to 10 pages for appendices. The judges loved it, of course, because we have to read all the plans. The teams had mixed feelings.

Summarize. In this context, the venture competition, with teams of smart MBA students, it should have been duck soup (although that particular expression isn’t that popular at the University of Oregon, because the home team is the Ducks).

Keep the highlights. Stick to the headlines. Summarize. I don’t care if you’re the next big thing, with an unimaginably exciting new idea and a great team, you can still create a meaningful summary in 10 pages.

Start with a one-page summary. Then tell a story about the need, and your solution, your market, your secret sauce, your strategy, and your great team. Add in a financial summary, and don’t forget to highlight your capital needs, valuation, and exit strategy. If you do no more than 3 paragraphs in any one of these 10 main topics, you ought to be able fit that in 10 pages using a lot of bullet points and white space. Make it an attractive document that the judges, who tend to have older eyes, can read. Leave some space for some snappy graphics, a bar chart or two, and then include the financials in more detail in the appendices.

Some of the teams struggled too much with the page limitation. Some chose the dark-side option, filling the page with dense, small text. Some skipped important topics.

As we get used to these competitions, with page limitations growing more common, I’m expecting more teams to realize that there ought to be a master plan, from which these summary plans, and the presentations, and the elevator speeches, are just alternative output.

Once they get that, they should then start thinking more about the combined communication impact of the plan, the presentation, and the other elements. Can they summarize strategy briefly in a plan, and then explain it more in a presentation? I think so.  The plan and the presentation obviously overlap, but they both don’t have to cover exactly the same territory.

So today my business plan judging marathon month continues. After the event in Portland over the weekend, this evening I’m going to a three-hour meeting of the Willamette Angel Conference, reviewing business plans, listening to presentations, doing due diligence on plans.  On Thursday I leave for Houston, to judge the Rice University Business Plan Competition.

Blame the business schools? As the culprits roll out of the fancy offices in New York and Washington, it’s hard to resist the temptation. There have been several thoughtful pieces on that in the last couple months, particularly the New York Times on blaming the business schools, and Are Business Schools to Blame posted late last month on a Harvard Business School blog. If you care about business education, for whatever reason, read both of these. The first is a bit longer than most blog posts, but thorough, well researched, and significant. The second includes a long string of thoughtful comments.

I care about business education. I think there are serious issues here, and a chance, maybe, to use this crisis to promote some change for the better.

The Times’ piece raises serious issues:

Critics of business education have many complaints. Some say the schools have become too scientific, too detached from real-world issues. Others say students are taught to come up with hasty solutions to complicated problems. Another group contends that schools give students a limited and distorted view of their role — that they graduate with a focus on maximizing shareholder value and only a limited understanding of ethical and social considerations essential to business leadership.

The Harvard follow-up cites three underlying problems (and I’m paraphrasing, here; the words are mine, summarizing):

1. The traditional business school curriculum separates management from leadership. Management is analytical. Leadership is fuzzy.
2. Business school lore and legend is about making money. Get an MBA, get rich.
3. Business schools aren’t owning up to the possibility. The actual phrase is “There has been little contrition on the part of those involved in MBA education after the crisis.” Hard to argue with that. At least Harvard is there.

I see a whole lot of truth in most of this. And I believe in education in general, and I loved the two years I took to get the Stanford MBA, and I wouldn’t change a thing about that time (from 1979 to 1981). I teach one class a year at the University of Oregon business school. So I am involved in all this. And I do think there’s room for a lot more change. And good and bad news.

The Bad News

So much of what they’re saying is, at least from my point of view, mostly true.

Business schools tend to train people to be consultants and middle managers. In my class at Stanford we almost all wanted to be management consultants. Those were the best jobs. From what I can tell, that’s still true, and at all the good schools.

That idea of minding the stockholders interests, blindly, is very deeply rooted. It’s a very powerful rationalization. “Oh well,” they say, as they make the short-sighted, environmentally insensitive, socially insensitive, and even borderline unethical decision, “our job is to mind the share price.”

And the share price, meanwhile, drives very short-term views. The share price doesn’t often reward the strategic decision that sacrifices short term bumps for long-term health.

Business ethics are too often an afterthought. They should be at the core of business strategy, wound in and absorbed in product and market strategy, but they aren’t. They’re separate.

The Good News

The good news is the tremendous boom in teaching about entrepreneurship. It’s the absolute rage in business schools. Entrepreneurship programs are the bright new thing everywhere.

When I was at Stanford, there was only one course on anything related to small business or entrepreneurship. It was called Small Business Management, taught by Steve Brandt. It was a really good review of the startup process, the business plan, and getting investment. It was my favorite course. But it was also the only one offered that had anything to do with entrepreneurship. Today Stanford has a booming center for entrepreneurship and some amazing activities related to entrepreneurship: speaker series, videos, and so on.

And that’s the rule, not the exception.

Furthermore, people inside the schools are waking up to the growth in green business, social entrepreneurship, sustainability, and so on. I was at MERC 2009 the week before last: put on by the George Mason University Entrepreneurship Center, focusing on sustainability. The University of Oregon business school has a program on (a center focusing on) sustainable business. There too, that’s the rule, not the exception.

And a Hope for the Future

Maybe it’s still just a pipe dream, an ex-hippy delusion left over from the 1960s, but it seems to me that changes in the business landscape — increasing visibility, for example, in an explosion of small-scale quasi-journalism in blogs and social media — make it steadily more important than long-term successful business has to respect the fundamental values of fairness to employees and customers, sustainability in resources and the environment, and better citizenship in a very broad sense.

The world is revising the golden rule: do unto others as you would have posted and tweeted everywhere, and lodged in Web searches forever. I think that’s a good thing.

Maybe in the future the businesses will actually do well by doing good.

The New York Times had an interesting piece a few days ago about a live-in entrepreneurship program at Babson college. They called it Dreamers and Doers. Quote:

"‘Any school can teach entrepreneurship,’ he says, ‘but at Babson, we live entrepreneurship.’"

I like Babson. I've been there a couple of times. Good program, and good faculty. And a good reputation for entrepreneurship, especially.

Babson focuses on business, and E-Tower focuses, even more tightly, on entrepreneurship. The residents of E-Tower hash out new business plans at Monday night meetings, and they talk shop throughout the day and night.

“We’re really a dorm of dreamers and doers,” says Prinya Kovitchindachai, who is hoping to market a vile-tasting pill, imported from Thailand, that he touts as a hangover treatment. “College students are the largest group of binge drinkers,” he says, quietly gleeful at the prospect of such a large market so close at hand. Friends have helped him bone up on the basics of international shipping, of securing shelf space and — in a consultation with a neighbor who was wearing a towel and still dripping from the shower — of creating Web sites.

The story goes on to catalog the burst of entrepreneurship programs throughout higher education.

A report issued last year by the Kauffman Foundation, which finances programs to promote innovation on campuses, noted that more than 5,000 entrepreneurship programs are offered on two- and four-year campuses — up from just 250 courses in 1985. Full-scale majors, minors or certificates in entrepreneurship have leaped from 104 in 1975 to more than 500 in 2006. Since 2003, the Kauffman Foundation has given nearly $50 million to 19 colleges and universities to build campus programs.

Studying entrepreneurship is a luxury. If you can manage it, if you can afford it, do it. Do it because you want to, because you're going to enjoy the learning and the people you meet along the way. Don't do it for the money.

The Babson program brings people studying entrepreneurship together, even to the point of living together. Sounds like a good idea — for those who don't have families, and lives, at least.