In 2023 I wrote a piece about the five deadly sins of VCs. A lot of founders agreed, but some VCs were pissed. My DMs were full of them explaining how unfair it was. One person said I wouldn’t make any friends in the industry if I kept it up.
I’m not taking it back. But two years passed and I’ve had time to reflect. I’ve understood that without all of these sins, the VC industry doesn't run.
So I stopped perceiving VCs as "good" or "bad" and realised that we are all parts of one “body” which can’t run without all these components.
Today, I bring you my anatomy of venture capital: an unillustrated guide to the investors you'll meet out there.
Brains
The brain exists to impose order on chaos.
It calculates, questions, predicts and slows the body down before it runs into a wall. Without brains, this industry would turn into pure gambling with better branding.
Brains build systems, processes, automations. They are the people who stop rooms full of optimists and say: wait, does this actually work? They prevent disasters, protect capital, force discipline when stories become too poetic.
But brains love overthinking. And VC is allergic to it.
Brains believe markets can be mapped, founders can be scored, deal outcomes – predicted with heavy models. They explain too much, optimise systems, dig a bit too deep, but miss the part of business where you just need to take a leap of faith.
Brains matter. They just cannot be the only organ in charge.
Hands
These investors help by doing.
They make intros, connect you to customers, talent, follow-on investors. They answer quickly, and do the things they promise. This is VC at its most practical and useful.
But hands can grab too tightly.
Some investors behave like anxious parents. They want constant calls, board meetings and “quick syncs” just to calm their own anxiety. They are the most likely to send you a link to an article about your competitor asking “Do we have this feature?”.
Yet this type has an upside. These VCs are not afraid to get their hands dirty. They notice early warning signs in churn, cash burn and margins long before they turn into existential problems.
They may be intense, intrusive and hard to manage. But when things start falling apart, one pair of active hands in the room can be the reason the company survives.
Amygdala
This is the part of VC that sells fear as “diligence” and risk aversion – as “good judgment.”
They ask endless questions. Every step opens another concern, every signal needs more validation and every risk becomes a reason to “wait for more traction”.
They do not lead. Due diligence takes six months for a pre-seed startup. They ask who else is investing, then follow when Paul Graham commits.
Negotiations – hard pass. Provisions, side letters, 2x participating liquidation preferences become emotional safety blankets. They lack independent thinking. Risk is something they prefer to delegate.
Missed deals turn into internal narratives about timing, structure or market conditions, but never about the real reason — fear of making mistakes.
Every system has this part. Its function is caution, but sometimes it's just paralysis.
Assholes
Well, we all met these ones.
Some of them arrive with absolute confidence and a heap of love bombing on top. Like a narcissistic boyfriend, they praise everything you do and wrap you in compliments until you lower your guard.
Then they tighten the terms, and a large part of your company slips away before you know it.
Others ghost. They sit on the cap table without presence, questions or help. At the exit, they’ll be the loudest on LinkedIn being “humble and proud”.
Or there are your classic finance bros who look at a pre-seed startup as if they are acquiring a 100-year-old steel factory. They think they are smarter than you, talk like Kendall from Succession and are very serious about “real businesses” after a few drinks.
Hearts
This type of investor is not in it for the money.
They are the first to say yes and the last to walk away, even when numbers are fragile. While others wait for proof, they act on what can’t be quantified – hope and love.
They imagine great exits, even when the product is raw. Their thinking is intuitive, non-linear and difficult to translate into frameworks. They believe.
Founders get a hopeless optimist as a partner by taking this archetype on board. But even their belief sometimes needs limits.
***
I've been all of these. Sometimes in the same week. And I think most of us have. The body works not because every part is perfect — but because every part is there.
