

Jun 103 min read


Jun 103 min read


Jun 103 min read
There is a moment many founders describe in almost the same words. They are sitting in a meeting room with their accountant, their lawyer, maybe a broker who came recommended. The deal, the raise, or the restructure is taking shape. And somewhere in the middle of it, a quiet thought arrives: is anyone here actually on my side?
It is not an accusation. It does not come with a name attached. Most founders push it down. They have trusted these people for years. They are professionals. They are here to help.
And they are. That is the thing.

Your accountant has been your accountant for a decade. They know your numbers better than you do. They are also, when a transaction is on the table, aligned with getting it across the line. Not because they are dishonest. Because that is what they were engaged to do. Their job is to make the deal work from a tax and structure perspective, not to ask whether this particular deal, at this particular moment, is actually the right one for you.
Your lawyer is billing by the hour. Every complication extends the engagement. Every redraft is legitimate work. They are not inventing problems, but they are not incentivised to make things simple either.
Your broker has a success fee. If the transaction does not complete, they do not get paid. They believe in the deal. They have to.
Each of these advisers is doing exactly what they were engaged to do. The conflict is not a failure of character. It is a feature of the arrangement.
When every voice in the room has a stake in a particular outcome, the advice you receive converges. The questions that might slow things down do not get asked. The alternative paths close off quietly, not because they were examined and rejected, but because nobody had a reason to open them.
This is not manipulation. It is selection. You are surrounded by capable people who are all, in their own way, pointing in the same direction. Because they are credible and you trust them, the weight of their collective opinion can carry you further than your own thinking would have taken you.
The founder who notices this is not being paranoid. They are seeing clearly.
There is a category of adviser who is paid for their thinking, not for their conclusion. Who is retained to sit across from you and ask the questions that no one else is asking. Who does not have a mandate, a success fee, or a billing clock running. Whose only stake in the outcome is whether your decision was the right one.
This sounds obvious. In practice, it is rare.
When the stakes are high, that rarity matters. A restructure that goes sideways is not a theoretical risk. A sale that completes on the wrong terms is not a minor inconvenience. A capital raise that locks you into an investor who is wrong for the business at this stage is a problem you will live with for years. These are decisions that deserve at least one voice in the room that is paid to think rather than paid to transact.
Founders who have had an independent adviser in the room describe it similarly. It is not that the adviser told them not to proceed. Sometimes they proceeded. Sometimes they changed course. What was different was the quality of thinking that preceded the decision. The questions that had not been asked. The assumptions that needed testing. The version of the deal that became visible once someone was willing to look without needing it to close.
It feels, they say, like finally being able to think clearly.
Before your next major decision, sit with this: of all the people advising me right now, how many of them are genuinely indifferent to the outcome?
We sit beside you. Analysis, not agenda.
To discuss an upcoming decision, contact Fabius at fabius.com.au







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