Ruth Janssens

The through-line

Everything Ruth Janssens says circles one idea: courage in entrepreneurship runs in two directions. It takes nerve to start and to keep going through the setbacks, and it takes at least as much nerve to stop on time. She left a corporate job, raised roughly €800k for Small Teaser, and pulled the plug in 2019 the same week she gave birth [2]. She has never framed that as regret. "Ik heb het geprobeerd en ja het is niet gelukt, maar als ik het niet had geprobeerd, dan had ik het nooit geweten." [2] The conviction that carried the company was total while it lasted: "Dan nog heb ik altijd gedacht: wij horen bij die graag kleine groepje dat het gaat maken. Als ge hij niet gelooft, dan..." [2]

What has shifted is which side of the table she argues from. Having felt investor pressure as a founder, she now runs a Benelux early-stage SaaS fund writing €400-500k tickets and builds the investor relationship she wishes she had had [2]. The practical advice she gives is almost all advice she paid for herself: paper agreements, honest timing, help asked for early rather than late.

On knowing when to pull the plug

The failure rate for VC-backed product companies is above 80%, and she treats that number as a reason for discipline rather than fatalism [2]. When a startup is failing, the instruction is to stop early and properly: find a lawyer you trust, avoid deepening the debts, and take the peace of mind that comes from being able to say you tried everything [1]. Waiting too long is what creates deep financial holes and makes everyone unhappy [2]. At Small Teaser she filed for bankruptcy quickly and deliberately to keep the number of creditors down, and the team was paid until their last working day, a clean exit instead of clinging to a sliver of hope while the debt grew [2]. The turning point had come earlier, when her brother and co-founder left: without a worthy replacement, the company could no longer convince existing or new investors for the next round [2].

She is also emphatic that the commercial court is not the enemy. Judges and staff genuinely want the best for entrepreneurs, and there are people whose job is to help founders in trouble turn things around, but only if you ask in time [2].

On putting it on paper

"Zet u afspraken op papier, ook al kende met jaar heel goed." [2] Co-founder agreements should be written while the relationship is still good, precisely because the relationship is good. The scenarios to cover are the unglamorous ones: illness, loss of motivation, disputes that cannot be resolved [2]. Her reasoning is about people rather than law. Under stress, people show character traits you have never seen before, including family and close friends [2].

On the funding model and what money is for

Founders of tech startups have to accept negative cash flow as normal to the growth model they have chosen; banks step back at that point, which leaves risk capital as the only route [2]. That makes the choice of investor consequential. She selects on personal fit and on what an investor adds beyond the cheque, whether sector expertise or a network that opens doors to customers [2]. Investors with nothing relevant to contribute should stay on the sidelines, because a hot breath in the neck adds stress and nothing else [2].

On being the investor she wanted

Morrow Ventures stays in constant dialogue with its portfolio founders, using WhatsApp groups between board meetings rather than saving everything for the formal moments [2]. The founder-friendly positioning is deliberate and comes straight from having felt the pressure from the other side [2]. A fund led by two women, she argues, looks at deals through a different lens than all-male funds, and there is an explicit ambition behind that: to make a difference for female founders in the investment ecosystem [2].

On who is worth listening to

She is openly sceptical of expensive gurus who have never built anything themselves and make a living telling others how to do it. The value sits with entrepreneurs who walked the same path and took the same hurdles before you [2].

On endurance and the 18 summers

The job is described as a rollercoaster, and her verdict on staying on it is blunt: "Ik denk na elk ondernemers daar kan beamen dat dat echt een rollercoaster is en als ge daar wil blijven opzetten, ja, dan moeten gewoon het lef hebben." [2] Against that she sets the counterweight of pace and of time that does not come back. "Voor mij zeer precieze kies de marathon ontlopen ben, en als ik niet op tijd mij in oude, ja, dan wordt het een sprint en niemand houdt tafel." [2] And the line that fixes the boundary between company and life: "Je beseften we dat je maar 18 zomers hebt." [2]

Takeaways

• Stop early and stop properly: get a lawyer you trust, do not deepen the debts, and take the peace of mind of having tried everything [1]; at Small Teaser that meant filing quickly to limit creditors and paying the team through their last working day [2].
• Write the co-founder agreement while everyone still gets along, covering illness, loss of motivation and unresolvable disputes, because stress reveals character traits you have never seen [2].
• Expect the odds: more than 80% of VC-backed product companies fail, and negative cash flow is intrinsic to the growth model, which is why banks step back and risk capital is the only route [2].
• Pick investors for fit and for what they add beyond money, sector expertise or a route to customers; anyone with nothing relevant to add should stay on the sidelines [2].
• Keep the founder relationship live between board meetings, WhatsApp groups included, rather than concentrating contact in formal reviews [2].
• Ask the commercial court for help before it is too late; the judges and staff want entrepreneurs to survive, and there are people who can help turn it around [2].
• Learn from entrepreneurs who took the same hurdles, not from expensive gurus who have never built anything [2].
• Run it as a marathon, and remember you only get 18 summers [2].