A New Commodity of Identity

We're innies plotting our escape.

Venture capital has transformed. What was once a domain of high-stakes intuition—think of the early investors in Microsoft betting on a bare-bones pitch deck (if we can even call it that) fueled by gut instinct rather than hard technicals—has evolved into a dynamic marketplace. It’s a space where capital meets dreams, disruptions, and, perhaps most compellingly, personal identity. The numbers tell part of the story: global VC funding peaked at $621 billion in 2021, and though the pace has tempered, the drive to invest in small, agile startups remains unrelenting. Why? Corporations—those towering relics of the 20th century—are losing their grip. Their bloated bureaucracies, rigid hierarchies, and resistance to change have exposed their vulnerabilities. In their shadow, small companies emerge as tactical, disruptive forces, poised to outmaneuver the old guard and create something meaningful. Yet, a tension lingers: while many admire these underdogs, far fewer are ready to found or join them. Instead, the rise of venture capital offers another path—one I’m eager to explore as an aspiring VC—where investing becomes a way to shape futures, tribes, and identities.

The Decline of Corporate Giants and the Neotribal Shift

The corporate promise once glittered: stability, a steady paycheck, branded Patagonias, and a bonus-funded Rolex. But that pact has frayed. Layoffs normalized, loyalty faded, and the cubicle began to feel like confinement. A cultural shift is underway—a pivot away from faceless firms toward smaller, scrappier outfits that resonate with individual values. I’ve written before about neotribalism, and here it is in motion: a return to tight-knit groups where purpose and connection outweigh scale. Small companies invite people to join teams that mirror their quirks and convictions, sidestepping the conformity of massive, one-size-fits-all structures. Hyperpersonalization, rather than isolating, fosters deeper, more authentic communities.

Yet the leap to startups isn’t for everyone. It’s a gamble—long hours, uncertain pay, and the constant risk of failure. Venture capital steps into this gap, offering a way to back disruptors without abandoning stability entirely. For someone like me, drawn to the VC world, it’s not about hedging bets—it’s about amplifying the revolution from a different vantage point. What’s emerging is a fascinating dynamic: VC isn’t just financial fuel. It’s identity work.

Investment as Identity Work

The Apple TV series Severance takes work-life fragmentation to an extreme—employees split into “innies” and “outies,” their agency severed by a corporate machine. It’s a stark metaphor, but the startup world offers a counterpoint: integration, a chance to bring one’s whole self to a mission that matters. (No “oneie” needed—too corny, even for me.) For many, though, the corporate hangover persists, a reluctance to fully break free. Venture capital bridges that divide. As an aspiring VC, I see it as a craft: backing startups becomes a way to weave a narrative about the future, one investment at a time.

Each deal carries weight beyond returns. Funding a biotech startup tackling climate change signals a commitment to sustainability. Supporting a fintech app for underserved communities reflects a stance on equity. It’s thesis formation as self-expression—VCs don’t just spot winners; they shape stories about the world they envision. This elevates venture capital into a cultural act, assembling neotribal ecosystems where founders, talent, and ideas align. But there’s a critique worth noting: some financiers, never having built companies themselves, leap to advise and invest in them. It’s a disconnect—can you truly understand a founder’s grind without living it? As an outsider looking in, I’m aware of this gap and determined to approach the role with humility, learning from those who’ve walked the path.

(shoutout to Edrizio De La Cruz for this incredible meme)

Main Street Over Wall Street

This isn’t an isolated trend. On March 4, 2025, U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent told Fox & Friends that the Trump administration is prioritizing Main Street over Wall Street. “Wall Street’s done great, Wall Street can continue to do fine,” he said, “but we have a focus on small business and consumers.” It’s a striking parallel to VC’s ascent. Bessent’s words suggest the old financial elite—banks and sprawling corporations—has peaked, while small businesses and startups hold the future. He dismissed Wall Street’s tariff fears, betting that short-term turbulence pales next to long-term gains for everyday Americans—a contrarian stance reminiscent of a VC backing an unproven visionary.

This policy vibe syncs with neotribalism. Prioritizing Main Street nods to agility, community, and a rejection of centralized giants—values VC thrives on. Bessent’s “small business-led recovery” mirrors the belief that hyperpersonalized teams, nimble enough to pivot where big corps can’t (think AI’s rapid rise), will lead the charge. Like VCs curating portfolios, this administration is crafting an economic narrative around the underdog. Economists question if tariffs will deliver, but the resonance is undeniable: both VC and this policy are bets on a decentralized, identity-driven tomorrow.

The Contrarian Craft: VC as a Defiance of the Norm

Venture capital demands a contrarian edge—spotting outliers and doubling down when others balk. It’s independent thought in action, a rebellion against the corporate playbook. Crafting a thesis for a decentralized social platform or a micro-manufacturing startup isn’t just trend-spotting; it’s a declaration of vision, a stake in a world of vibrant, small-scale tribes. For me, aspiring to join this field, that’s the draw: VC isn’t passive—it’s active curation of the future.

This edge fuels VC’s allure—and its commoditization. Angels, crowdfunding, and accessible platforms have lowered the bar; a corner office on Sand Hill Road isn’t required—just a hunch and some capital. Does this dilute the craft’s sharpness? Does this transform VC into yet another systematized asset class? Perhaps. It could altogether be a signal to a vastly changing labor market. But the impulse endures: using investment to forge identity and community remains potent, even as the field widens.

The Tension: Watching vs. Building

Why don’t more people found or join startups? Fear often wins out. Corporate life, flaws and all, offers a safety net—benefits, predictability. Startups are a roll of the dice, and not everyone’s ready. VC provides an alternative: championing rebels without stepping into the fray. As an aspiring VC, I see this not as retreat but as a strategic perch—funding disruption while learning its rhythms. Still, there’s a nagging question: if small companies are the key to neotribalism and personalized work, is investing alone enough? The real shift might demand more—building tribes firsthand, not just bankrolling them.

A Mirror and a Mosaic

Venture capital’s rise is more than a financial wave; it’s a cultural pivot. It’s investment as identity work—a way to reclaim agency and community in a post-corporate age. In Severance, characters ache to mend their fractured selves; VC offers a thread to stitch a mosaic of agile tribes, each reflecting values and visions for a better future (see my piece, The Great Recalibration). Bessent’s Main Street focus reinforces this: old giants fade, and connection, disruption, and purpose take center stage. His chant echoes VC’s quiet rebellion—a resurrection of the small, the scrappy, the tribal. As an aspiring VC, I’m hooked on this alchemy: turning capital into culture, bets into belonging. But the myth’s still unfolding—will we forge a new pantheon of disruptors, or just gild the ghosts of the old giants? As an undeniable techno-optimist, I’m betting on the former, and the stakes pulse with defiance.