The past year was one of the toughest I can remember for business. Confidence fell off a cliff, and fear and gloom seemed to dominate the financial world. Now at the start of 2010, the first signs of confidence are coming back. China, Brazil, India and Australia are growing again and the world’s stock markets have bounced back in the main.
Sometimes I’m accused of being too optimistic—the natural entrepreneur’s enthusiasm often gets the better of me! But at Virgin, we have seen some of those signs: People are booking plane and train tickets earlier; they are reserving this summer holidays; customers are upgrading their cable accounts, and our health-club business is growing around the world.
So what do I think will happen this year and what opportunities are there for budding entrepreneurs?
Frustratingly for those looking for an easy answer or formula, there isn’t one. There is no substitute in business for actually running a business. Throughout my career, I have made decisions using my instinct, but I have also worked very hard at making those decisions work. As I look back, a few key patterns keep re-emerging.
First, you need to surround yourself with trusted and talented people. Setting up businesses takes an enormous amount of time and energy. It is easier to make the big commitments when you are surrounded by people you trust and like. Keeping my many good chief executive officers and managing directors happy—and finding new ones to start the next ventures—is one of my full-time jobs.
Then you need to ensure that your business or idea has a place in the market and a product or service that is different enough to attract customers. At Virgin we stick to a simple checklist. Our businesses need to be innovative, maintain a certain quality, be value for money and have a sense of fun. They also tend to focus on customer service, and we like to be the customer’s champion, bringing simplicity and transparency to many businesses.
Timing is also important. If I could start again, I would set up more businesses during recessions when almost everything costs 50-90% less than it’s worth during the good times. Often a lot of highly skilled staff are on the market and the competition—existing big businesses—have their eyes focused internally, on their own operations and issues. Such a climate is the perfect time for young, enthusiastic and nimble companies to set themselves up and thrive. This is one of those times.
During the recession of the 1970s, we expanded Virgin Records. In the early 1990s, we expanded Virgin Atlantic, as established rival airlines were recovering from recession and the Gulf War. Without the legacy issues of a large existing operation and high cost base, Atlantic was able to buy new and more efficient planes and open exciting routes.
Similar opportunities exist today for new businesses in sectors as diverse as food manufacturing and recruitment, renewable energy and even space.
People often blame economic conditions or the lack of finance from the banks as the key reasons for the failure of more small businesses to thrive. Surely, banks need to keep credit flowing to emerging companies and governments need to hold down the bureaucracy and red tape—but, mainly, entrepreneurs need to take responsibility and keep driving their businesses on. A good business idea needs hard work, determination (and a little luck) to succeed.
Many would-be entrepreneurs give up too soon. You have to overcome early adversity. The inaugural flight of Virgin Atlantic almost brought the group down. We had worked like mad for six months to get the first flight off from London to Newark and it had been a resounding success—fuelled in part by 70 crates of champagne. On my return to London, I was met by our then bank manager sitting on the steps of my house. He had come to tell me that my bank was not able to extend my overdraft to help finance the new airline.
Instead, if we went over our overdraft limit of £3 million (around Rs22.5 crore), the bank would have bounced our cheques. This was almost certain doom for an airline. As soon as people heard that we had no credit, they would stop supplying food and fuel. Passengers wouldn’t buy tickets. I had to move fast. Over the weekend, I pulled in money from our overseas businesses to shore up the bank account and, as soon as I could, I changed banks.
It was a sobering lesson. It taught me that a good entrepreneur looks for solutions, not excuses. We’ve been doing that as a group ever since. You always have to protect the downside of your ventures.
So get out there and start up those businesses in 2010. As the old Chinese adage goes, fortunes are made in good times; empires are built out of tough times.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
an insightful success story
Full of Beans: How a Classically Trained Chef Reinvented Fast Food
Published: January 20, 2010 in Knowledge@Wharton
It's a classic variation of the American success story: An aspiring entrepreneur starts a hole-in-the-wall restaurant serving food that's quick and unpretentious. Pretty soon, he starts a second restaurant, and then a third. Investors flock to the company, attracted to the owner's relentlessly perfectionist style. Before long, identical versions of that hole-in-the-wall have popped up in food courts and strip malls all across the country. And it's only a matter of time before this simple fast-food joint decides to take on the world.
On one level, that story describes the career of Steve Ells, who in 1993 founded a burrito restaurant in Denver that he called Chipotle Mexican Grill. Today, that restaurant is a publicly traded company with $1.3 billion in revenues from some 900 restaurants across North America. On November 14, 2009, Ells formally announced plans for the first European Chipotle, on London's Charing Cross Road, set to open next April.In January, Chipotle announced that it was also scouting potential locations in France and Germany.
But, as he made clear in a November Wharton Leadership Lecture, Ells is not your average chain-restaurant tycoon, a Colonel Sanders in trendy eyewear. And the chain he founded is not your average fast-food behemoth. As such, it provides a case study in whether a firm can thrive even as it spends extra money to honor a set of non-economic values. Ells believes the answer is yes.
"Chipotle now buys more naturally-raised meat -- antibiotic-free and no growth hormones, and fed an all-vegetarian diet -- than any other restaurant company in the world," he said. "I'm very proud of that, and it's more sustainable than the mass-produced commodity way." The chain has also begun buying organic beans and trying to source vegetables locally in-season. "All of a sudden I find myself with this team of 25,000 Chipotle employees who are excited about feeding people really good, sustainably raised food."
According to Ells, "We have an opportunity to change the way people think about fast food, which is what most people in this country eat." Much of it, he said, is based on the Ray Kroc model and the standard set by McDonald's. "Now we have a business model that's based on spending more for sustainably raised foods, and also making a very handsome profit and providing real growth opportunities."
A graduate of the famous Culinary Institute of America, Ells never meant to re-invent fast food. Quite the contrary: Having trained in classical French cooking and apprenticed at nationally celebrated gastronomic landmarks like San Francisco's celebrated Stars restaurant, his goal was to start his own white-tablecloth, haute-cuisine palace. But restaurant start-ups are costly and risky. So he decided to move home to Denver and open a local version of the cheap, tasty taquerias that he had loved in California. The plan was to use Chipotle as a cash cow to fund the "real" restaurant he dreamed about.
That didn't happen. Opened in an 800-square-foot former ice cream shop, Chipotle was an instant hit, making $30,000 a month. A rave newspaper review followed. The reviewer "said things like, 'Everything has depth and character, nuance, layers and layers of flavor,' describing it like it was some fine restaurant," even though the dish in question was an oversized burrito that came wrapped in tinfoil, Ells noted. "After that, there was not only a line, but a line out the door. We ran out of food."
Precision Cooking
Using cash flow and a loan from his father, Ells opened a second Chipotle, which "blew away the first." Despite his good fortune, Ells said, he actually felt guilty: He wanted to be a legendary chef, not a hustling fast-food entrepreneur. "So it was like, 'Okay, I'm going to start just one more, and then I'll start a real restaurant.'" But the chain's growth kept putting that off. Eventually Ells chalked up Chipotle's success to the fact that, unwittingly, he had been treating it like a real restaurant all along.
"Every single customer who came through that door was precious," he stated. "I had to give them a very special experience. I had a small crew. I taught them how to cook. I taught them how to grill the chicken just right and how to make beans -- you have to toast the cumin seeds until they just start smoking a little bit, and then grind them in the mortar and pestle -- and how to chop garlic so it doesn't oxidize, so you get a nice, fresh garlicky flavor.... It was very precise. We're cooking burritos and tacos here, but I was applying the classical French chef mentality that I had learned in cooking school. I would throw things and yell, and I had a temper. It was really quite a scene."
Ells, whose chain was on track to add roughly 120 new restaurants in 2009, says he is "opening three real restaurants a week, sometimes four." The Chipotles that have spread out from Denver still look a lot like the first store, right down to the simple corrugated metal surfaces that Ells installed back when he was doing his own manual labor. It's been a lot trickier, though, to maintain his fastidious French chef-style control over ingredients and techniques.
Much of his disdain for "mass-commodity" ingredients is a question of personal values. Once he became a big enough buyer of pork, he asked to see the facility the meat came from. "It really is terrifying," he said. "There's so much exploitation that I witnessed there, not only from the animal-protection point of view." He was also disturbed by the environmental consequences of the waste run-off from the facility -- and the public-health implications of having a pork supply kept on low-dose antibiotics to ward off diseases that could spread in industrial confinement.
"I knew at that moment I did not want my success to be based on this kind of exploitation," he said. "So we started buying all naturally-raised meat." But it wasn't just a question of being humane. His initial curiosity about the meat supply was actually prompted by the fact that he was unimpressed with the quality. By switching sources, he said, he wound up with a product that, to customers, just tasted better.
Ells' status as the anti-Ray Kroc is not without its ironies. As Chipotle began to take off and Ells began looking for sources of capital beyond family and cash flow, he wound up doing business with a certain global hamburger chain that was looking to invest in new business: McDonald's. Following an initial investment in 1998, the company held a majority stake as of 2001. By the time McDonald's divested, in 2006, Chipotle had 540 stores -- up from 18 when they first linked arms.
Lords of the Rings
"Culturally, Chipotle and McDonald's are just worlds apart," Ells noted, joking that his casually-dressed office staff referred to visiting McDonald's bigwigs as "the rings" because of the jewelry on the men's fingers. But he described the relationship as productive. "They really liked what I was doing," he said, recounting how he took executives into his kitchens and commissaries to show them cooking procedures that must have looked extraordinarily cumbersome to a firm accustomed to taking an industrial approach to flavor. One of them, Ells recalled, said the young Chipotle founder reminded him of Kroc.
The firms decided to part ways in 2006, Ells said, because McDonald's was eager to focus on its core business. And Ells was happy he no longer had to navigate the contrasting corporate cultures. "We just didn't see eye to eye," he said. Chipotle went public in an IPO that saw its share price double in one day -- the second-best restaurant IPO of all time. McDonald's, Ells added, ultimately made $1.2 billion after putting some $360 million into the chain.
Among the major differences with the golden arches: McDonald's wanted Chipotle to follow its franchise model. Ells -- ever the detail-obsessed chef -- resisted. "We wanted to own the economic model. You franchise if you want money and people. We had plenty of money for our growth rate, and we had great people." Ultimately, he decided, the firm was going to grow the way he wanted.
As someone with no particular business background, Ells has surrounded himself with seasoned pros, although he prefers not to hire top executives with a chain-restaurant background for fear that too much conventional wisdom will seep into the corporation. Four years ago, for example, Ells brought in as co-CEO an old friend named Montgomery F. Moran, whom he describes as an incredible leader of people. "He's a trial lawyer. And he said, 'Steve, I don't know anything about the restaurant business. I can't do this.' And I'm like, 'Perfect.... I don't want another seasoned fast-food executive.' In fact, I don't want any of them. I want them to think differently about things. This was one of my big mistakes during the McDonald's years: I let some of that [attitude] come into the organization.... We're very proud of doing things on our own terms."
One of the favorite innovations with Moran, Ells said, is something called the "restaurateur" program, under which Chipotle managers are designated restaurateurs, a status that comes with significant possible financial benefits. To be a restaurateur, a manager has to have a perfect store -- including a top-notch staff. "Every single person on the staff has to be somehow inspired and have characteristics that you can't teach: infectious enthusiasm, honesty, clean, presentable, good hygiene, fun to talk to, great eye contact, the kind of stuff you look for in a friend," he said.
The result, he added, was that turnover went up as managers looked to rid themselves of subpar staffers who might keep them from becoming a restaurateur. In addition, restaurateurs get a $10,000 bonus whenever one of their staff becomes a store manager. "We want them to assemble a team of high performers," he said. "The fast food business is plagued with people who are generally low performers.... No fast-food chain fires staff. They're like: 'Please! Come work!'" Chipotle, with a reputation for better pay than many chains, according to Ells, is also in a better position to replace entry-level staff who have been pushed out. "Chipotle has been built on word-of-mouth primarily, and I think we have developed a good bond with a lot of our customers." He said that sort of reputation could be extended through social media and a style that reflected Chipotle's unpretentious stores.
The son of a pharmaceutical executive, Ells grew up in Colorado and studied art history at the University of Colorado before switching gears and going to culinary school. He still lives in Denver, where Chipotle is headquartered. And, he says, he still loves a good burrito.
The Chipotle model -- with its better ingredients, better staffers and slightly higher prices -- is the wave of the future, Ells states, mostly because it matches the health, taste and philosophical priorities of the modern market. "We had a period of extraordinary, double digit same-store growth. I think it's a testament to what people want to eat. I'm hoping that more companies use Chipotle's model: Good food and not having preservatives or artificial [ingredients].... I hope it displaces the stuff that's based on exploitation, not only of the land and animals, but of people's taste buds and health."
Published: January 20, 2010 in Knowledge@Wharton
It's a classic variation of the American success story: An aspiring entrepreneur starts a hole-in-the-wall restaurant serving food that's quick and unpretentious. Pretty soon, he starts a second restaurant, and then a third. Investors flock to the company, attracted to the owner's relentlessly perfectionist style. Before long, identical versions of that hole-in-the-wall have popped up in food courts and strip malls all across the country. And it's only a matter of time before this simple fast-food joint decides to take on the world.
On one level, that story describes the career of Steve Ells, who in 1993 founded a burrito restaurant in Denver that he called Chipotle Mexican Grill. Today, that restaurant is a publicly traded company with $1.3 billion in revenues from some 900 restaurants across North America. On November 14, 2009, Ells formally announced plans for the first European Chipotle, on London's Charing Cross Road, set to open next April.In January, Chipotle announced that it was also scouting potential locations in France and Germany.
But, as he made clear in a November Wharton Leadership Lecture, Ells is not your average chain-restaurant tycoon, a Colonel Sanders in trendy eyewear. And the chain he founded is not your average fast-food behemoth. As such, it provides a case study in whether a firm can thrive even as it spends extra money to honor a set of non-economic values. Ells believes the answer is yes.
"Chipotle now buys more naturally-raised meat -- antibiotic-free and no growth hormones, and fed an all-vegetarian diet -- than any other restaurant company in the world," he said. "I'm very proud of that, and it's more sustainable than the mass-produced commodity way." The chain has also begun buying organic beans and trying to source vegetables locally in-season. "All of a sudden I find myself with this team of 25,000 Chipotle employees who are excited about feeding people really good, sustainably raised food."
According to Ells, "We have an opportunity to change the way people think about fast food, which is what most people in this country eat." Much of it, he said, is based on the Ray Kroc model and the standard set by McDonald's. "Now we have a business model that's based on spending more for sustainably raised foods, and also making a very handsome profit and providing real growth opportunities."
A graduate of the famous Culinary Institute of America, Ells never meant to re-invent fast food. Quite the contrary: Having trained in classical French cooking and apprenticed at nationally celebrated gastronomic landmarks like San Francisco's celebrated Stars restaurant, his goal was to start his own white-tablecloth, haute-cuisine palace. But restaurant start-ups are costly and risky. So he decided to move home to Denver and open a local version of the cheap, tasty taquerias that he had loved in California. The plan was to use Chipotle as a cash cow to fund the "real" restaurant he dreamed about.
That didn't happen. Opened in an 800-square-foot former ice cream shop, Chipotle was an instant hit, making $30,000 a month. A rave newspaper review followed. The reviewer "said things like, 'Everything has depth and character, nuance, layers and layers of flavor,' describing it like it was some fine restaurant," even though the dish in question was an oversized burrito that came wrapped in tinfoil, Ells noted. "After that, there was not only a line, but a line out the door. We ran out of food."
Precision Cooking
Using cash flow and a loan from his father, Ells opened a second Chipotle, which "blew away the first." Despite his good fortune, Ells said, he actually felt guilty: He wanted to be a legendary chef, not a hustling fast-food entrepreneur. "So it was like, 'Okay, I'm going to start just one more, and then I'll start a real restaurant.'" But the chain's growth kept putting that off. Eventually Ells chalked up Chipotle's success to the fact that, unwittingly, he had been treating it like a real restaurant all along.
"Every single customer who came through that door was precious," he stated. "I had to give them a very special experience. I had a small crew. I taught them how to cook. I taught them how to grill the chicken just right and how to make beans -- you have to toast the cumin seeds until they just start smoking a little bit, and then grind them in the mortar and pestle -- and how to chop garlic so it doesn't oxidize, so you get a nice, fresh garlicky flavor.... It was very precise. We're cooking burritos and tacos here, but I was applying the classical French chef mentality that I had learned in cooking school. I would throw things and yell, and I had a temper. It was really quite a scene."
Ells, whose chain was on track to add roughly 120 new restaurants in 2009, says he is "opening three real restaurants a week, sometimes four." The Chipotles that have spread out from Denver still look a lot like the first store, right down to the simple corrugated metal surfaces that Ells installed back when he was doing his own manual labor. It's been a lot trickier, though, to maintain his fastidious French chef-style control over ingredients and techniques.
Much of his disdain for "mass-commodity" ingredients is a question of personal values. Once he became a big enough buyer of pork, he asked to see the facility the meat came from. "It really is terrifying," he said. "There's so much exploitation that I witnessed there, not only from the animal-protection point of view." He was also disturbed by the environmental consequences of the waste run-off from the facility -- and the public-health implications of having a pork supply kept on low-dose antibiotics to ward off diseases that could spread in industrial confinement.
"I knew at that moment I did not want my success to be based on this kind of exploitation," he said. "So we started buying all naturally-raised meat." But it wasn't just a question of being humane. His initial curiosity about the meat supply was actually prompted by the fact that he was unimpressed with the quality. By switching sources, he said, he wound up with a product that, to customers, just tasted better.
Ells' status as the anti-Ray Kroc is not without its ironies. As Chipotle began to take off and Ells began looking for sources of capital beyond family and cash flow, he wound up doing business with a certain global hamburger chain that was looking to invest in new business: McDonald's. Following an initial investment in 1998, the company held a majority stake as of 2001. By the time McDonald's divested, in 2006, Chipotle had 540 stores -- up from 18 when they first linked arms.
Lords of the Rings
"Culturally, Chipotle and McDonald's are just worlds apart," Ells noted, joking that his casually-dressed office staff referred to visiting McDonald's bigwigs as "the rings" because of the jewelry on the men's fingers. But he described the relationship as productive. "They really liked what I was doing," he said, recounting how he took executives into his kitchens and commissaries to show them cooking procedures that must have looked extraordinarily cumbersome to a firm accustomed to taking an industrial approach to flavor. One of them, Ells recalled, said the young Chipotle founder reminded him of Kroc.
The firms decided to part ways in 2006, Ells said, because McDonald's was eager to focus on its core business. And Ells was happy he no longer had to navigate the contrasting corporate cultures. "We just didn't see eye to eye," he said. Chipotle went public in an IPO that saw its share price double in one day -- the second-best restaurant IPO of all time. McDonald's, Ells added, ultimately made $1.2 billion after putting some $360 million into the chain.
Among the major differences with the golden arches: McDonald's wanted Chipotle to follow its franchise model. Ells -- ever the detail-obsessed chef -- resisted. "We wanted to own the economic model. You franchise if you want money and people. We had plenty of money for our growth rate, and we had great people." Ultimately, he decided, the firm was going to grow the way he wanted.
As someone with no particular business background, Ells has surrounded himself with seasoned pros, although he prefers not to hire top executives with a chain-restaurant background for fear that too much conventional wisdom will seep into the corporation. Four years ago, for example, Ells brought in as co-CEO an old friend named Montgomery F. Moran, whom he describes as an incredible leader of people. "He's a trial lawyer. And he said, 'Steve, I don't know anything about the restaurant business. I can't do this.' And I'm like, 'Perfect.... I don't want another seasoned fast-food executive.' In fact, I don't want any of them. I want them to think differently about things. This was one of my big mistakes during the McDonald's years: I let some of that [attitude] come into the organization.... We're very proud of doing things on our own terms."
One of the favorite innovations with Moran, Ells said, is something called the "restaurateur" program, under which Chipotle managers are designated restaurateurs, a status that comes with significant possible financial benefits. To be a restaurateur, a manager has to have a perfect store -- including a top-notch staff. "Every single person on the staff has to be somehow inspired and have characteristics that you can't teach: infectious enthusiasm, honesty, clean, presentable, good hygiene, fun to talk to, great eye contact, the kind of stuff you look for in a friend," he said.
The result, he added, was that turnover went up as managers looked to rid themselves of subpar staffers who might keep them from becoming a restaurateur. In addition, restaurateurs get a $10,000 bonus whenever one of their staff becomes a store manager. "We want them to assemble a team of high performers," he said. "The fast food business is plagued with people who are generally low performers.... No fast-food chain fires staff. They're like: 'Please! Come work!'" Chipotle, with a reputation for better pay than many chains, according to Ells, is also in a better position to replace entry-level staff who have been pushed out. "Chipotle has been built on word-of-mouth primarily, and I think we have developed a good bond with a lot of our customers." He said that sort of reputation could be extended through social media and a style that reflected Chipotle's unpretentious stores.
The son of a pharmaceutical executive, Ells grew up in Colorado and studied art history at the University of Colorado before switching gears and going to culinary school. He still lives in Denver, where Chipotle is headquartered. And, he says, he still loves a good burrito.
The Chipotle model -- with its better ingredients, better staffers and slightly higher prices -- is the wave of the future, Ells states, mostly because it matches the health, taste and philosophical priorities of the modern market. "We had a period of extraordinary, double digit same-store growth. I think it's a testament to what people want to eat. I'm hoping that more companies use Chipotle's model: Good food and not having preservatives or artificial [ingredients].... I hope it displaces the stuff that's based on exploitation, not only of the land and animals, but of people's taste buds and health."
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