Think inside the (restless, curious, eager) minds of highly accomplished company builders.
What distinguishes great entrepreneurs?  Discussions of entrepreneurial psychology typically focus on creativity,  tolerance for risk, and the desire for achievement—enviable traits  that, unfortunately, are not very teachable. So Saras Sarasvathy, a  professor at the University of Virginia's Darden School of Business, set  out to determine how expert entrepreneurs think, with the goal of  transferring that knowledge to aspiring founders. While still a graduate  student at Carnegie Mellon, Sarasvathy—with the guidance of her thesis  supervisor, the Nobel laureate Herbert Simon—embarked on an audacious  project: to eavesdrop on the thinking of the country's most successful  entrepreneurs as they grappled with business problems. She required that  her subjects have at least 15 years of entrepreneurial experience, have  started multiple companies—both successes and failures—and have taken  at least one company public.
Sarasvathy identified 245 U.S. entrepreneurs who met her criteria,  and 45 of them agreed to participate. (Responses from 27 appeared in her  conclusions; the rest were reserved for subsequent studies. Thirty more  helped shape the questionnaire.) Revenue at the subjects' companies—all  run by the founders at that time—ranged from $200 million to $6.5  billion, in industries as diverse as toys and railroads. Sarasvathy met  personally with all of her subjects, including such luminaries as Dennis  Bakke, founder of energy giant AES; Earl Bakken of Medtronic; and T.J.  Rodgers of Cypress Semiconductor. She presented each with a case study  about a hypothetical start-up and 10 decisions that the founder of such a  company would have to make in building the venture. Then she switched  on a tape recorder and let the entrepreneur talk through the problems  for two hours. Sarasvathy later collaborated with Stuart Read, of the  IMD business school in Switzerland, to conduct the same experiment with  professional managers at large corporations—the likes of NestlĂ©, Philip  Morris, and Shell. Sarasvathy and her colleagues are now extending their  research to novice entrepreneurs and both novice and experienced  professional investors.
Sarasvathy concluded that master entrepreneurs rely on what she calls 
effectual reasoning.  Brilliant improvisers, the entrepreneurs don't start out with concrete  goals. Instead, they constantly assess how to use their personal  strengths and whatever resources they have at hand to develop goals on  the fly, while creatively reacting to contingencies. By contrast,  corporate executives—those in the study group were also enormously  successful in their chosen field—use causal reasoning. They set a goal  and diligently seek the best ways to achieve it. Early indications  suggest the rookie company founders are spread all across the  effectual-to-causal scale. But those who grew up around family  businesses will more likely swing effectual, while those with M.B.A.'s  display a causal bent. Not surprisingly, angels and seasoned VCs think  much more like expert entrepreneurs than do novice investors.
The following is a summary of some of the study's conclusions,  illustrated with excerpts from the interviews. Understanding the  entrepreneurs' comments requires familiarity with what they were  evaluating. The case study and questions are too long to reproduce here.  But briefly: Subjects were asked to imagine themselves as the founder  of a start-up that had developed a computer game simulating the  experience of launching a company. The game and ancillary materials were  described as tools for teaching entrepreneurship. Subjects responded to  questions about potential customers, competitors, pricing, marketing  strategies, growth opportunities, and related issues. (The full case  study and questions can be found 
here.)
Quotes have been edited for length, though we wish we had room to run  them in their entirety. Sarasvathy remained almost silent throughout,  forcing the founders to answer their own questions and externalize their  thinking in the process. The transcripts, riddled with "ums" and "ers,"  doublings-back on assumptions, and references to personal rules of  thumb, read like verbal MRIs of the entrepreneurial brain in action.
Do the doable, then push it
Sarasvathy likes to compare expert entrepreneurs to Iron Chefs: at  their best when presented with an assortment of motley ingredients and  challenged to whip up whatever dish expediency and imagination suggest.  Corporate leaders, by contrast, decide they are going to make Swedish  meatballs. They then proceed to shop, measure, mix, and cook Swedish  meatballs in the most efficient, cost-effective manner possible.
That is not to say entrepreneurs don't have goals, only that those  goals are broad and—like luggage—may shift during flight. Rather than  meticulously segment customers according to potential return, they itch  to get to market as quickly and cheaply as possible, a principle  Sarasvathy calls affordable loss. Repeatedly, the entrepreneurs in her  study expressed impatience with anything that smacked of extensive  planning, particularly traditional market research. (
Inc.'s own  research backs this up. One survey of Inc. 500 CEOs found that 60  percent had not written business plans before launching their companies.  Just 12 percent had done market research.)
When asked what kind of market research they would conduct for their  hypothetical start-up, most of Sarasvathy's subjects responded with  variations on the following:
"OK, I need to know which of their various groups of students,  trainees, and individuals would be most interested so I can target the  audience a little bit more. What other information...I've never done  consumer marketing, so I don't really know. I think probably...I think  mostly I'd just try to...I would...I wouldn't do all this, actually. I'd  just go sell it. I don't believe in market research. Somebody once told  me the only thing you need is a customer. Instead of asking all the  questions, I'd try and make some sales. I'd learn a lot, you know: which  people, what were the obstacles, what were the questions, which prices  work better. Even before I started production. So my market research  would actually be hands-on actual selling."
Here's another:
"Ultimately, the best test of any product is to go to your target  market and pretend like it's a real business. You'll find out soon  enough if it is or not. You have to take some risks. You can sit and  analyze these different markets forever and ever and ever, and you'd get  all these wonderful answers, and they still may be wrong. The problem  with the businessman type is they spend a lot of time with all their  great wisdom and all their spreadsheets and all their Harvard Business Review  people, and they'd either become convinced that there's no market at  all or that they have the market nailed. And they'd go out there big  time, with a lot of expensive advertising and upfront costs, because  they're gonna overwhelm the market, and the business would go under."
The corporate executives were much more likely to want a quantitative analysis of market size:
"If I had a budget, I could ask a specialist in the field of  education to go through data and give me ideas of how many universities,  how many media, how many large companies I will have to contact to have  an idea of the work that has to be done."
Sarasvathy explains that entrepreneurs' aversion to market research  is symptomatic of a larger lesson they have learned: They do not believe  in prediction of any kind. "If you give them data that has to do with  the future, they just dismiss it," she says. "They don't believe the  future is predictable...or they don't want to be in a space that is very  predictable." That attitude is a bit like Voltaire's assertion that the  perfect is the enemy of the good. In this case, the careful forecast is  the enemy of the fortuitous surprise:
"I always live by the motto of 'Ready, fire, aim.' I think if you  spend too much time doing 'Ready, aim, aim, aim,' you're never going to  see all the good things that would happen if you actually started doing  it. I think business plans are interesting, but they have no real  meaning, because you can't put in all the positive things that will  occur...If you know intrinsically that this is possible, you just have  to find out how to make it possible, which you can't do ahead of time."
That said, Sarasvathy points out that her entrepreneurs did adopt  more formal research and planning practices over time. Their ability to  do so—to become causal as well as effectual thinkers—helped this  enduring group grow with their companies.
Woo partners first
Entrepreneurs' preference for doing the doable and taking it from  there is manifest in their approach to partnerships. While corporate  executives know exactly where they are going and follow a prescribed  path to get there, entrepreneurs allow whomever they encounter on the  journey—suppliers, advisers, customers—to shape their businesses.
"I would literally target...key companies who I would call  flagship: do a frontal lobotomy on them. There are probably a dozen of  those I would pick. Some entrepreneurial operations that would probably  be smaller but have a global presence where I'm dealing with the  challenges of international sales...Building rapport with partners, with  joint-venture colleagues as well as with ultimate users....The  challenge then is really to pick your partners and package yourself  early on before you have to put a lot of capital out."
Chief among those influential partners are first customers. The  entrepreneurs anticipated customer help on product design, sales, and  identifying suppliers. Some even saw their first customer as their best  investor.
"People chase investors, but your best investor is your first real customer. And your customers are also your best salesmen."
Sarasvathy says expert entrepreneurs have learned the hard way that  "having even one real customer on board with you is better than knowing  in a hands-off way 10 things about a thousand customers." Merely  gathering information from a large number of potential customers, she  says, "increases all the different things you 
could do but doesn't tell you what you 
should  do." Toward that end, many of her subjects described their preference  for an almost anthropological approach to customer interaction:  observing a few customers as they work or actually working alongside  them.
"You can't go out and survey customers and say, 'OK, what kinda  car do you really want?' I believe very much in living it. If you're  gonna write a book about stevedores, go work as a stevedore for a period  of time. My company was going to design and sell products for physical  therapy, so I worked in rehab medicine for two years."
Corporate executives, by contrast, generally envisioned more traditional vendor-customer interactions, such as focus groups.
"I would like to get from them...by meeting with them or getting  their input on what they think of the limitation of existing  programs....just kind of sit and listen to them telling me...what new  features they'd like. And I'd just listen to them talk, talk, talk and  then be thinking and develop something between what they want and what's  possible technically."
Sarasvathy says executives rely less on firsthand insights, because  they can afford to place bets on multiple segments and product versions.  "Entrepreneurs don't have that luxury," she says.
Sweat competitors later
The study's corporate subjects focused intently on potential  competitors, as eager for information about other vendors as about  customers. "The corporate guys are like hunter-gatherers," says  Sarasvathy. "They are hired to win market share, so they concentrate  fiercely on who is in the marketplace. The first thing they do is map  out the lay of the land."
"What information do I want about my competition? I want to see  what kinds of resources they have. Do they have computer programmers? Do  they have educational experts? Do they have teachers and trainers who  can roll out this product? Do they have a support structure in place?  Geographically, where are they situated? Have they got one center or  lots of centers? Are they doing this just in English, or do they have  different languages? I'd be wanting to look at the finances of these  companies....I'd probably be looking at their track record to see what  kind of approach they take to marketing and advertising so I know what  to expect. I might look and see what people they hire, see if I can hire  away someone who might have experience."
By the time entrepreneurs start seeking investment, of course, they  should be as far inside competitors' heads as they can get. But the  study subjects generally expressed little concern about the competition  at launch.
"Your competition is a secondary factor. I think you are putting  the cart before the horse...Analyze whether you think you can be  successful or not before you worry about the competitors."
And:
"At one time in our company, I ordered our people not to think  about competitors. Just do your job. Think only of your work. Now that  isn't entirely possible. Now, in fact, competitive information is very  valuable. But I wanted to be sure that we didn't worry about  competitors. And to that end, I gave the annual plan to every employee.  And they said, 'Well, aren't you afraid your competitors are gonna get  this information and get an advantage?' I said, 'It's much riskier to  not have your employees know what you need to do than it is to run the  risk of competitors finding out. Cause they'll find out somehow anyway.  But if one of your employees doesn't know why they're doing their job,  then you're really losing out.'"
Entrepreneurs fret less about competitors, Sarasvathy explains,  because they see themselves not in the thick of a market but on the  fringe of one, or as creating a new market entirely. "They are like  farmers, planting a seed and nurturing it," she says. "What they care  about is their own little patch of ground."
Don't limit yourself
Corporate managers believe that to the extent they can predict the  future, they can control it. Entrepreneurs believe that to the extent  they can control the future, they don't need to predict it. That may  sound like monumental hubris, but Sarasvathy sees it differently, as an  expression of entrepreneurs' confidence in their ability to recognize,  respond to, and reshape opportunities as they develop. Entrepreneurs  thrive on contingency. The best ones improvise their way to an outcome  that in retrospect feels ordained.
So although many corporate managers in Sarasvathy's study wanted more  information about the product and market landscape, some entrepreneurs  pushed back on the small amount of information provided as being too  limiting. For example, the description of the product as a computer game  for entrepreneurship:
"I would cast it not as a product but as a family of products,  which might perform a broader function like helping people make career  decisions. I always look for broad market opportunities."
And:
"I wanna use this product as a platform to attract other products  literally to build a market-share play. I see this as a missionary  product, an entrée into some of the best users and buyers."
The most fascinating part of the study relates to the product's  potential. Asked about growth opportunities, the corporate managers  mostly restricted their comments to the game as described:
"It depends on how it's marketed. I'm a little bit  skeptical....I'm not certain entrepreneurs would go for that. Maybe they  think they already know everything. But in terms of simulations for  business schools or in further education, they seem to be very popular.  And entrepreneurship degrees seem to be very popular as well. So, yeah,  it could well be a lot of growth."
Here is where the entrepreneurs really let loose. Starting with the  same information as one another and as the executives, they collectively  spun out opportunities in 18 markets—not just academic institutions but  also venture capital firms, consultancies, government agencies, and the  military. As much as the ability to concoct new products, it is this  tendency to riff off whatever ideas or materials are handy that defines  entrepreneurs as a creative breed. Reading the transcripts, you can  almost hear the enthusiasm mounting in their voices as the possibilities  unfold:
"This company could make a few people rich, but I don't think it  could ever be huge...You might have a successful second product about  how to succeed and get promoted within a large company....That would  give you a market of everybody with aspirations at IBM, AT&T, Exxon,  etc....You could make another product for students. How do I graduate  in the top 10 percent of my class at Stanford or Harvard or Yale?...A  lot about how to be a good student is teachable. Now you've got a  product you can sell to every student in the country. Next there is  negotiation. You could practice being a good negotiator. There's not a  salesman in the United States who wouldn't buy one of those. Then you  could genericize the thing to any situation which requires some sort of  technical knowledge. Or learning situations within companies where you  are trying to get people to understand that company's methods or  objectives. So maybe I'm gonna change my opinion about the growth  potential. It's easy to see how within an hour you could name 10  products that would each address huge markets, like all employees in  Fortune 500 companies, who are rich enough to pay $100 for it. It could  be a hit on the scale of the Lotus spreadsheet. You can see a  several-hundred-million-dollar company coming from it."
You might also glean from the preceding that entrepreneurs are  eternal optimists. But you don't need an academic study to tell you  that.
Leigh Buchanan is an editor-at-large for Inc.