In the startup world, everything moves fast. Speed is worshipped. Launch fast. Pivot fast. Raise fast. Exit fast. But some of the most enduring companies, the ones that become institutions, are not built like that at all.
They are built like heritage brands.
Luxury houses like Hermès or Patek Philippe do not chase trends. They define taste. They release selectively. They speak softly. They survive generations by making products that are trusted to last longer than the people who buy them.
There is something here that applies to venture. Because in markets flooded with noise, the rarest commodity is credibility. And credibility cannot be scaled. It must be earned slowly, with consistency and patience.
When I back a founder, I often ask, are you building a moment, or are you building permanence? Do you want to be popular this quarter, or respected ten years from now?
The best founders are starting to understand this. They are not chasing virality. They are cultivating identity. They are building ecosystems that feel more like private ateliers than mass-market blitzes.
Their investor updates are thoughtful. Their branding is precise. Their hiring feels like curation. They are selective not because they are slow — but because they know that taste, once lost, cannot be bought back.
This is also why I spend time in the art world and among collectors. It is not about status. It is about understanding the psychology of timelessness. How scarcity is engineered. How quality is defended. How mystique is protected.
Venture can learn from this. It can be loud, or it can be trusted. But it cannot be both for long.
In a world where attention moves fast, legacy is still built slow. And that slowness, when deliberate, becomes the real signal of power.