An unwritten "founder code" exists in Silicon Valley. A key violation is abandoning a well-performing, venture-backed company to start a new one in a hotter space (e.g., AI). This prematurely sells out investors and violates the trust placed in the founder.

Selling a business often triggers a period of depression. A founder's self-worth is deeply intertwined with the daily grind and pressures of their company. When that is removed, they experience a significant loss and must redefine their identity outside of their work.

When a founder's primary motivation is the eventual sale of their business, they often struggle to love the day-to-day process. This focus on a future financial exit rather than present operational passion is a significant, often overlooked, driver of burnout and dissatisfaction.

Despite having sold multiple companies, founder Scott Davis's core philosophy is to build a business as if he will own it forever. He argues that focusing on an exit is a "perverse" mindset that distracts from the primary goal: providing genuine, sustainable value to customers, which is the ultimate driver of a company's worth.

Despite a multi-billion dollar exit, Poppi's founders describe a challenging "mourning period." Selling 100% of their company led to an unexpected loss of daily purpose and identity, highlighting the often-undiscussed psychological toll of a complete exit for entrepreneurs, even a successful one.

Many founders who successfully exit their companies feel depressed and unfulfilled, realizing their best idea is behind them. The alternative is to reject the exit-focused mindset and commit to building a durable, lifelong business, finding satisfaction in the infinite game.

Many founders treat their startup as a temporary vehicle to an exit, which can lead to an identity crisis after they "win." A healthier approach is to build a company as a "way of life"—a system of activities you want to engage in for the long term, regardless of specific outcomes.

Contrary to the celebratory image, selling a company can lead to a feeling of being "rudderless." For founder Eric Ryan, his identity was so tied to being "the Method man" that the sale triggered a period of unhappiness. He regained his purpose only after deciding to start his next venture.

Counterintuitively, the longer a founder stays deeply involved in the details, the more durable the company becomes. Like Walt Disney, this intense, prolonged 'founder mode' builds such a strong moat and institutionalizes the vision that the business can endure long after they're gone.