Imagine the Future of your Company depends on the Quality of your Pitch
What Leaders can learn from Start-Ups
There is often more agreement on why execution is difficult than on how to make it possible.
What truly connects founders and executives - beyond roles, titles, and organizational logic? More than one might assume at first glance.
In this conversation with Georg Fischer, we discuss innovation, leadership, and the human side of change. We explore why good ideas often fail not because of technology, but because of execution. Why real innovation has less to do with tools than with mindset. And why founders and executives may have far more to learn from one another than either side realizes.
Drawing on experience across corporate environments, startup coaching, and innovation work, this conversation examines courage, clarity, execution, and what makes progress sustainable from a human perspective.
An interview about the power of good questions, about pitches as acts of trust-building, and about why the future often begins where people take responsibility.
When you think back to your time as Head of Innovation at SAP Austria, do you sometimes experience a kind of déjà-vu when speaking with founders today in your role at the Mannheim Start-Up Center?
Yes, absolutely. I often experience déjà-vu in conversations with founders because many of the dynamics are timeless. My time in Austria shaped me in two particular ways.
First: Innovation rarely fails because of technology. It usually fails because of execution.
At the time, I was new to the market, knew neither the customers nor the ecosystem, and had to establish relevance quickly. My approach was therefore highly pragmatic: we entered companies with real business problems, deliberately not with POCs or theoretical exercises and committed ourselves to making concrete solutions visible within a week.
That worked surprisingly often. Repeatedly, we were able to demonstrate that when the right people come together, real business value can be created in a very short amount of time.
But the real insight came afterwards: even once a problem is solved, the actual work is only beginning. Why is something not implemented despite clear benefits? Why do organizations lose speed, increase complexity, or postpone decisions?
These questions deeply occupied me and changed my perspective. I realized that innovation is less a technological issue than a human one. That realization sparked my interest in behavioural science, mental models, and later AI as a tool for making change processes more effective.
My enduring takeaway: value is created not only through good ideas, but through the ability to execute and scale them.
Second: Innovation requires values, not just speed.
Austria taught me something else as well: progress only works sustainably when it is connected to people and their values.
I met many deeply values-driven people there who genuinely wanted to shape things. That broadened my view of innovation: as a design thinker, you naturally think strongly from the customer’s perspective and their needs — not from the product outward. At the same time, it became even clearer to me that the people who will later implement ideas also need to be considered and involved early on.
Especially in Europe, I see this as a major strength. We need innovation not only for competitiveness, but also to carry our values into the future.
If I had to distil that period into two guiding questions that still accompany me today, they would be:
• How do we truly bring innovation into scale?
• How do we shape progress so that it serves people?
These two tensions still shape many of my conversations with founders today.
Why do you think organizations so often reflexively wanted to create a Proof-of-Concept (POC) instead of focusing on a real problem and implementing a solution quickly? Was that perhaps a kind of immune response from the organization? Such as: "If we solve that in four weeks, what does that imply for our structures?"
Yes, I genuinely believe it often is a kind of immune response.
I remember one discussion that was scheduled for ten minutes and ended up lasting nearly two hours. The core question was always the same: Why are we working on a real business problem? Why not do a POC first to show that it works in principle? In my view, something deeper lies behind that question:
Many organizations do not doubt that a problem exists. They doubt their own ability to implement a solution that quickly.
A POC provides a kind of safe space. It proves technological feasibility without truly challenging the organization. A real business problem, by contrast, immediately raises the next, more uncomfortable question: If we can solve this quickly, what does that mean for our structures, processes, and decision-making paths? And that is where tension arises.
In B2C environments, one person often decides. Speed is possible. In B2B organizations, many stakeholders are involved: conflicting interests, established structures, historical decisions. As a result, even good solutions get slowed down.
What truly surprised me at the time: There was often more agreement on why execution is difficult than on how to make it possible. That mindset was deeply embedded, a kind of cultural operating mechanism. That is why I learned: The desire for a POC is rarely purely technical. It is often a signal of missing confidence in one’s own ability to execute.
Or more pointedly: Organizations do not protect themselves from bad ideas. They protect themselves from the consequences of good solutions.
And that is where the real leadership challenge begins: Not just enabling innovation but enabling the organization to actually implement it.
Why is it so important, in your experience, to consider people when talking about innovation and progress? Or put differently: what risks arise if this is neglected?
Because innovation is always first a human process and only then a technological one.
The moment change begins, people leave their comfort zones. And that always involves risk: the risk of failure, vulnerability, loss of status, or having to make decisions whose outcomes are uncertain. That is why progress is never merely a methodological or technological issue, it is always deeply human.
What fascinates me in the Start-Up world are intrinsically motivated people. They are often the true engine of change.
If you remove the human factor from innovation, two things tend to happen.
First, mediocrity emerges.
The lowest common denominator begins to dominate: decisions are optimized for consensus rather than impact, innovation becomes more cautious, smaller, and less ambitious.
Second, courage disappears when it comes to addressing the real problems.
People choose the path of least resistance instead of confronting the areas where meaningful change also creates friction.
And that is precisely where innovation becomes either bold or irrelevant.
To me, progress requires people who want to shape things, take responsibility, and enjoy change. Because when you take people's motivation, needs, and concerns seriously, you usually develop better solutions.
At the end of every innovation stands a human being: a customer, a patient, an employee, a citizen. That is why I strongly believe:
Technology has no intrinsic purpose. Value only emerges when it creates tangible improvement for people.
If we ignore that, we risk something dangerous: technological acceleration without real progress.
You know the role of a corporate leader with budget and personnel responsibility, and you coach founders. Despite these different worlds, where do you see overlap between the two roles?
I believe the overlap is greater than many assume.
At their core, good leaders and founders share one thing above all: both want to make things happen.
They want to achieve goals, take responsibility, and create impact together with others. That is fundamentally the same drive. The differences lie less in mindset than in context.
Founders usually operate with more freedom but fewer resources.
Corporate leaders often have more leverage but work within stronger structural, procedural, and organizational constraints.
Yet the core mechanics are remarkably similar: Bringing people along. Making decisions under uncertainty. Setting priorities. Pooling resources. Overcoming resistance. Providing direction.
And perhaps most importantly: in both roles, one consciously leaves the comfort zone. Anyone who founds or leads takes responsibility for outcomes that can never be fully controlled. Perhaps that is the greatest commonality:
Good founders and good leaders are both people who do not merely want to manage. They want to shape the future.
When a leader advocates internally for resources and a Start-Up pitches externally for capital: are these two different disciplines, or two versions of the same leadership task?
Yes, there are differences but honestly, fewer than one might think.
The obvious differences again lie mainly in the context. In corporations, there are often guardrails: standard slide decks, style guides, terminology, formal requirements. That can provide stability but also create rigidity.
Start-Ups appear to have more freedom. They can design a pitch deck entirely around one objective, in language, dramaturgy, storytelling, and delivery. Often the principle is: what you see is what you get.
But to me, the real difference is not in form. It is in how consciously one adapts to the audience. At some point I decided for myself: A presentation is like a suit. If it does not fit, you notice it the entire time. And if it does not fit you, the audience notices too. That is why I deliberately began presenting less according to standards and more according to the people in the room. Less “What needs to be on slide 12?” and more: "What does this audience need right now in order to build trust?" Because whether it is a board member or an investor, in both cases the objective is the same: To mobilize resources for an idea about the future. And in that sense, a business case and a pitch are very similar. Both require clarity, credibility, and a compelling story. Both must answer: Why is this relevant? Why now? Why us?
Perhaps the most important shift for me came from a thought I once heard:
“Think about into which listening are you talking into.”
That changed my perspective. Because good presentations do not primarily arise from strong sender logic but from deep understanding of the receiver’s needs. And that is exactly where founders and leaders meet again.
Despite the similarities, a poor presentation in a Start-Up context can mean the end of the company. For example, if it was the last possible investor meeting and it did not go well.
Yes, absolutely. A bad presentation in a corporation is often just another annoying meeting. A bad presentation in a Start-Up can mean the end of the journey. Because in the startup context, much more is often at stake in a pitch. It may be the last investor in a critical phase. The next funding round, the team, or even the survival of the company may depend on it. That changes everything. Suddenly, communication is no longer just a management skill, it becomes existential. And that aligns with what Eric Ries says about Start-Ups: they operate under conditions of extreme uncertainty. That is why a pitch quickly becomes more than a presentation. It becomes a moment where strategy, storytelling, trust, and personal conviction must come together.
In corporations, there are often more safety nets. Bad meetings can be corrected. Decisions can be revisited. Start-Ups do not always get that second chance. And I believe this high-stakes reality shapes many founders. They are often not just pitching a model. They are pitching conviction under risk.
That is a different kind of pressure. But sometimes also a different kind of clarity. Because when a lot is at stake, it becomes clearer what truly matters:
Not perfect slides but precision, energy, and trust. Perhaps that is the greatest lesson: In a Start-Up, communication cannot be an accessory. It is part of the business model.
What can leaders learn from Start-Ups when it comes to creating real connection and impact in important conversations, rather than merely presenting?
One of my strongest realizations was this: You cannot talk about individualization while communicating through standardized messages.
I always found it paradoxical to operate in a world of tailored solutions while delivering off-the-shelf presentations. To me, that does not fit. This is precisely where leaders can learn a great deal from founders: seeing the other person not as an abstract target audience, but as an individual.
Because real connection does not emerge through standard presentations, it emerges through relevance.
If leaders can learn agility from Start-Ups, what should founders learn from experienced executives once early momentum turns into real scaling?
If there is one thing I would like some Start-Ups to adopt more from experienced leaders, it is clarity and precision. What I sometimes notice is this: founders may have worked on their topic for years and yet when they speak about it, it can still sound as though they are formulating their core message for the first time.
Sometimes the sharpness is missing:
- What is the one critical problem we solve?
- What makes us unique?
- Why do we need to exist?
That is why I am a big fan of the elevator pitch. Not primarily as an investor tool, but as an exercise in clarity. The first ten versions are not for the venture capitalist. They are for yourself. Because good founder communication requires not only passion, but repeatability.
A convincing answer to the core questions:
- What problem do we solve?
- For whom?
- What is our unique value proposition?
- How does that become a viable business?
And that is something experienced leaders often do very well: condense complexity, sharpen messages, and provide orientation.
You once told me that many founders confuse a good idea with a validated business model. What is the most common misconception in this early stage, and why does real evidence often begin not with a prototype, but with conversations?
A common misconception is believing: I have a good idea, a pitch deck, and ten strong slides, therefore I am ready for funding. That is rarely how founding works.
Enthusiasm, technical expertise, and a strong idea are an excellent foundation but only the beginning. If everything exists only in PowerPoint and no one has spoken with real people, tested anything, or validated assumptions, the essential piece is missing: Evidence.
That is why I always tell founders: Go out and talk to people first. Not only to validate a solution but already to test the problem hypothesis itself.
- Does this problem truly exist the way I believe it does?
- Is it relevant enough?
- Is it experienced the way I assume?
That is often underestimated. Because the first strong evidence is often not prototypes, it is stories. Quotes. Observations. Real experiences from people who have the problem. And that evidence is enormously powerful. When founders can argue not just with features, but from the lived reality of their users with real stories, real tensions, real pain points credibility emerges.
The word “crisis” seems to be everywhere right now. What gives you confidence, considering that you mainly work with people who are founding companies in this environment?
Precisely those people who are founding companies right now give me confidence. I recently had an experience that moved me deeply. A Start-Up I had seen in a jury setting a few months earlier with only an idea suddenly stood at a conference with a real prototype at the booth of an established company. Seeing that development in such a short time made me incredibly happy. And that is what gives me hope. Every day I encounter people with enthusiasm, courage, and an almost uncompromising willingness to work for their ideas. People who build solutions at night and sit in coaching sessions in the morning because they believe in something. That energy is contagious.
Especially in times when everyone talks about crisis, I often see something else: creative power. Because I am convinced that the ideas and talents we need to solve major challenges already exist. Our task is to create pathways for them to generate impact. What makes me optimistic is not despite these times but precisely in these times to see how many people want to take responsibility.
