An Extra Comma in My Bank Balance

September 23, 2024 (updated October 29, 2025)

This piece first appeared as my column Business Different in the Santa Fe New Mexican on September 23, 2024 (updated October 29, 2025).
Santa Fe New Mexican Column

When I sold my caregiving agency in 2022, we had around 300 caregivers working with us and I got a bigger multiple than I’d expected.

I stared at the number on my account screen — a lot. I saw two options: invest, serve on some nonprofit boards, exercise in the middle of the day instead of at 6 a.m. and retire; or double down, build something bigger and better, maybe write a cool book and retire to a villa in Italy. I chose the second option, and then I didn’t.

I’ve written before about Biscochito’s journey to create a nonhierarchical business structure. A key piece of that journey was the top of the pyramid — me. I felt the tension between building an organization that fully honored the work and workers of caregiving and pursuing the profit margin that would award me an even larger multiple.

That tension was highlighted a year ago when I was honored to be the UNM McKinnon Distinguished CEO. I talked about Henry Ford’s dream of a more empowered and vibrant working class, and the landmark court cases and legislation that created the modern-day culture of shareholder primacy and exclusion of many workers from social protections that were put in place after the Great Depression.

My thesis was that we could actually structure business differently, removing the value-extracting layers of hierarchy and retaining the bulk of the value created by the company’s operations in the pockets of those closest to the work. It felt good to articulate this vision; it also felt exposed and vulnerable.

In the unscripted interview that followed with Robert DelCampo, executive director of UNM’s Innovation Academy, he asked how I, as a successful entrepreneur who had been enriched through the sale of a business, could reconcile this seemingly “anti-capitalist” approach with pocketing millions gained through the efforts of others. Somehow I didn’t really think he was challenging me — I was accustomed to the tension, but I wasn’t the only person in the room.

One of my trusted colleagues approached me the following week with a seemingly obvious recommendation. If I was really serious about minimizing the extraction of shareholder and hierarchical value, perhaps I should establish my company as a nonprofit. This would ensure there were no shareholders to take primacy, dedicating 100% of the generated capital to the members of the team and the mission.

I was sure I could stay true to my values and to the story of Biscochito while simultaneously creating a business valuable enough to buy my summer villa in Italy, but I trust my friends and I realized that perhaps I couldn’t see my own corruptibility. I sat with the idea of turning my millions of invested dollars into seed money for a national nonprofit that can transform caregiver lives and restore professionalism and agency to this amazing work. The story was bigger with me as the leader and not the center, not the top of a pyramid.

I still think about a villa in Italy. But I now know that if it materializes, it won’t be on the backs of caregivers who dedicate their lives to the service of others.

As we await our 501(c)(3) status from the federal government, I feel good about the choice — very good. I’ll probably retire here in Santa Fe, exercise in the middle of the day, eat amazing food, go to Zozobra, hike in the mountains and sometimes visit Italy. Maybe I’ll serve on Biscochito’s board. I think I chose option one with the ambition of option two.

What Stayed With Me

What stayed with me was how visible my own edge became.

I had spent years thinking about systems, history, labor, and structure — but this moment wasn’t theoretical. It was personal. The tension lived in my own body and my own bank account.

I didn’t need to be convinced of the argument. I needed to be honest about my limits, my temptations, and my capacity to hold power without centering myself.

Seeing that clearly didn’t feel dramatic. It felt sobering. And steady.

Reflection

Some decisions aren’t about doing more.

At a certain point, the question isn’t what you can build, but what does the work need.

Do you agree? What would you do in a similar situation?

That question doesn’t resolve all tension.
But it does clarify where the work belongs.