Which brings me to the latest unfortunate chapter in the series: John Foley, the founder and former CEO of fitness phenomenon Peloton.
Foley was not a natural-born entrepreneur and tech visionary. An executive at Barnes & Noble and IAC, Foley was a health-conscious Manhattanite who was an early devotee of in-person, instructor-driven classes like Soul Cycle. However, with a busy work life and a young family, he often found it difficult to trek across town to attend a class. This personal pain point was the spark that led to Peloton: bringing an interactive and on-demand Soul Cycle-like experience into the home.
Foley launched Peloton in 2012 at age 40 with little more than the idea. Overwhelmingly, the big investors he pitched the idea to turned him down. Undaunted, Foley turned to crowdfunding to generate seed capital, and by 2014 was producing an internet-connected bike. Initially, the company grew fitfully, but in time started to gain a cult-like following-for the immersive experience and the quality of its instructors. Within 5 years, the company was on fire. Sales were surging and Peoloton was an unquestionable fitness phenomenon. By 2019, the company went public.
Then Covid hit.
Few companies were poised to benefit more from the pandemic-induced societal convulsion- than Peloton. With gyms closed nationally, demand exploded. Though the company struggled logistically to keep up with demand, consumers and investors were enthralled with the company and its potential. By the end of 2020 the stock was up more than 800% and sported a $30 billion market cap.
There are different ways to respond when the unpredictable financial winds turn to a gale force tailwind. The first is with humility-”I didn’t see this coming, I certainly didn’t plan for it, and though it may be uncomfortable benefitting from this unfortunate event-there is a chance that I’m not that smart, and was at the right place and the right time”. The second, on the other hand, is to view this massive flush of success as validation of your innate business genius-to let the events stock an almost messianic belief in your own vision, acumen.
What seems clear is that Foley, seemingly a very self-effacing and modest guy, lost himself a bit amidst this explosion of success. He was put off when some suggested Peloton was only benefitting from a temporary Covid-bump, and that slowing growth seemed likely. While he conceded that the pandemic may have accelerated the conversion of new customers, this was the beginning of a revolutionary, sustainable trend in at-home fitness. How else can you explain Foley’s decision to invest massively in new production capacity? In interviews at the time, Foley envisioned a trillion dollar company.
Foley also spent money, both the company’s and his own, as if continued success was inevitable. There was lavish company spending even when signs emerged that demand was slowing amidst national reopening. Foley also spent big personally. He put his current Hampton’s home on the market for $5 million and purchased a new one for $52 million. He had a yacht to get to and fro from the city.
Well, you say, Peloton’s stock may have been wildly inflated-but at least he sold some of it to pay for this spending. Wrong. Foley didn’t sell much of his stock at all. He primarily got liquidity by taking very large margin loans against his company stock (purportedly $300 million in loans). Did he do this to take advantage of the well-worn tax deferral strategy to avoid capital gains? Was he concerned investors would be spooked if the founder/CEO dumped stocks? Or was he a true believer?
Flash forward to the fall of 2022. Peloton, having scaled up massively, was hit with a sharp deceleration in demand. Whenever a company invests big for future growth-growth that doesn’t materialize, the pain can be intense. With retrospect, Peloton did benefit from a temporary Covid-bounce, and now faced the prospect of being another in a long line of health-care fads.
The company slashed headcount. The stock fell by more than 90%. And John Foley resigned from the company he founded and built, his fortune and pride massively dented.
A couple lessons come to mind:
Don’t confuse good fortune with brilliance.
No doubt Foley was a very capable guy. Indeed, without his unflappable belief and undaunted self confidence, Peloton would never have gotten off the ground. But once you get traction and success, you need to temper that confidence with humility and objectivity. Foley should have had the composure to recognize the role of luck in driving the company’s success in 2020, but instead he took it as confirmation and validation of his vision. The smartest and most talented wealthy people I know are almost always the most humble.
When massive success comes, change nothing.
Whenever a client receives a large inheritance or sells a business or benefits from any huge financial windfall, my recommendation is almost always the same: don’t change anything. Wild success and fortune is very seductive. It can, and often does, change people-often in unforeseen ways.
My recommendation: park the funds and change nothing-for 6 months to a year. Nothing. No big house, no cars, no large charity gifts, no dramatic new businesses or investments, no changes to your daily life. Give yourself time to adjust and calibrate.
You’ll thank me.
Concentration got you here; diversification will keep you here.
One of the best ways to build wealth is to concentrate: put all your eggs in one basket (hopefully the right one), and WATCH THAT BASKET. It’s very difficult to build wealth quickly without concentration. But concentration presents risks-risks that diversification materially reduce.
Say the company you founded and built has exploded in value and made you wealthy. No matter how bullish the company’s future prospects, the sound approach is to gradually reduce that concentration and diversify. It’s a hedge against the tide turning, unforeseen circumstances-and it’s the rational thing to do.
You need to slowly transition from a sole focus on wealth creation to one of wealth sustainability. Know that this will never be harder to do psychologically than when the wealth-building asset is on a tear. “Why would I sell a piece of this rocket ship-one I know and have control over, to buy something not as good?” I get it.
John Foley is on to his next challenge: a high-end, custom-built rug company. His tagline on LinkedIn says “Hungry and Humble.” I appreciate his resilience, wish him well, and will be rooting for him.