Honestly, if you ask ten different people at a networking event what it actually means to venture, you’re going to get ten different answers that mostly involve someone trying to sound smarter than they are. Most people think it’s just a fancy word for starting a business. It’s not. Not really. If you open a dry-cleaning franchise, you’re starting a business, but are you venturing? Probably not.
To venture is to step into the fog. It’s about the presence of a specific kind of risk that most sane people try to avoid. It’s about the "danger" part of the dictionary definition that we usually gloss over because we’re too busy looking at pitch decks and ROI projections.
The messy reality of what is to venture
When you look at the history of the word, it comes from the Middle English "aventuren," which basically meant "to happen by chance." That’s the soul of the thing. It’s not about a guaranteed 5% return. It’s about the stuff you can’t control.
Think about the early days of SpaceX. Elon Musk wasn't just starting a transportation company; he was venturing in the truest sense of the word. He put $100 million of his own money into a field where he had zero experience, and the first three launches failed. That’s the "venture" part. It’s the willingness to lose everything on a gamble where the odds are stacked against you, but the payoff changes the world.
It’s not just about the money
A lot of people confuse venturing with venture capital. While they’re related, they aren't the same thing. Venture capital is the fuel, but the act of venturing is the driving. You can venture into a new creative field, a new scientific theory, or a new way of organizing a society.
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Take the example of Patagonia’s founder, Yvon Chouinard. When he shifted the company’s entire ownership structure to fight climate change, that was a massive venture. He risked the stability of a multi-billion dollar brand for an unproven corporate model. He stepped out of the "safe" zone of traditional capitalism into something entirely unknown.
Why we’re wired to be bad at this
Human brains hate uncertainty. We are biologically programmed to prefer a mediocre certain outcome over a potentially brilliant uncertain one. This is what psychologists call "ambiguity aversion."
If I tell you there’s a 50% chance of winning $100, you can wrap your head around that. But if I tell you there’s a chance you might win something but I can't tell you how much or when, your brain starts screaming. Venturing requires you to silence that scream.
In the tech world, we see this all the time. Most "startups" are actually just clones of existing ideas. "It's Uber, but for dog walkers." That’s not a venture. That’s a derivative. To truly venture is to build something where the market doesn't even exist yet. When Steve Jobs was developing the iPad, people laughed. They said nobody wanted a giant phone that couldn't make calls. He was venturing into a vacuum.
The difference between risk and uncertainty
This is a nuance that even some MBAs miss. Risk is when you know the odds. Like a deck of cards. You know the chance of hitting an Ace.
Uncertainty is when you don't even know if you’re playing with a full deck, or if you’re even playing cards at all.
When you ask what is to venture, you are asking about the management of uncertainty. Frank Knight, an economist from the University of Chicago, wrote about this back in the 1920s. He argued that true profit only comes from uncertainty, not risk. If you can calculate the risk, someone else has already done it and priced the opportunity out of the market. The big wins—the Google-sized wins—come from the things that were too uncertain for the "smart money" to touch early on.
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The grit factor
You’ve probably heard of the "pivot." It’s a buzzword now. But in a real venture, a pivot is a traumatic event. It’s realizing your fundamental assumption about the world was wrong and trying to fix it before the bank account hits zero.
- Real venturing feels like failing 90% of the time.
- It involves a level of obsession that isn't particularly healthy.
- It requires a "thick skin" that most people only pretend to have.
How to actually venture without losing your mind
If you’re looking to venture into something—whether it’s a side hustle, a new career path, or a massive tech startup—you have to change how you view failure.
In a traditional job, failure is a bug. In a venture, failure is the telemetry. It’s the data telling you where the wall is so you can stop hitting it.
I’ve seen people throw their life savings into "ventures" that were really just expensive hobbies. The difference is the feedback loop. A hobbyist ignores the market telling them "no." A venturer listens to the "no" and figures out if they need to change the product, the person, or the price.
The "Skin in the Game" rule
Nassim Taleb talks about this a lot. You aren't venturing if you don't have skin in the game. If you’re playing with someone else’s money and you still get paid a six-figure salary regardless of the outcome, you’re just a consultant with a fancy title.
True venturing requires a personal cost. It could be time. It could be reputation. It could be every cent you own. This personal stake is what sharpens the mind. It’s what makes you see the opportunities that the comfortable people miss.
The lifecycle of a venture
It usually starts with an observation that feels like an itch. "Why is this so hard?" or "Why does this suck so much?"
Then comes the research phase, which most people do wrong. They look for reasons why it will work. You should be looking for reasons why it won't. You want to find the "deal-breakers" early.
If you survive the research phase, you enter the "Valley of Death." This is the period between starting and actually making money. Most ventures die here. This is where the sheer willpower of the venturer is tested.
- The "I have a great idea" phase (High energy, zero reality).
- The "This is harder than I thought" phase (Reality sets in).
- The "Everything is broken and I'm broke" phase (The Valley of Death).
- The "Wait, it’s actually working" phase (The breakthrough).
Is it for everyone?
Kinda. But also, no.
The world needs people to keep the trains running on time. We need the people who follow the rules and maintain the systems. But those people aren't venturing.
If you have a high need for stability, a venture will break you. If you need to know exactly what your paycheck looks like on the 1st and the 15th, stay away. But if you find yourself constantly looking at the way the world works and thinking, "This is stupid, I can do it better," then you might be a venturer.
Actionable steps for the aspiring venturer
Stop reading about it and start testing your assumptions. Most people spend years "planning" because planning feels safe. It’s a form of procrastination.
Identify your core uncertainty. What is the one thing that, if it’s wrong, the whole thing falls apart? Is it that people won't buy it? Is it that you can't build it? Is it that the regulation will kill it?
Run a "smoke test." Don't build the whole thing. Build a landing page. Run $50 of ads. See if anyone actually clicks. If nobody clicks on the idea of the thing, they definitely won't buy the actual thing.
Limit your downside. Venturing isn't about being reckless. It’s about calculated leaps. Don't bet your house on the first iteration. Bet enough to care, but not so much that you can't try again if it fails.
Find your "truth-tellers." You don't need "yes men." You need the person who will tell you your idea is garbage and explain exactly why. Listen to them. You don't have to agree, but you have to account for their objections.
Set a "kill date." Decide ahead of time how much time or money you are willing to lose before you walk away. This prevents you from falling into the "sunk cost fallacy" where you keep throwing good money after bad just because you’ve already spent so much.
The act of venturing is the most human thing we do. it's what sent us across oceans and into space. It's messy, it's terrifying, and it's usually unglamorous. But it's the only way anything actually changes. If you’re ready to step into the fog, just make sure you’re doing it with your eyes wide open.