Can you make big money from non-growth? Of course. But it’s worth clarifying the question itself. What does big money mean? It depends on who you ask. What does it mean to you? And what does non-growth mean? That’s perhaps a bit harder to pin down, but for me, it simply means focusing less on quantitative metrics and instead developing my business based on qualitative aspects. And this is subjective too—do I even know what quality means to me? Do I know how much is enough for me? And what kind of “good” is the one that feels right for me?
There’s also the question of whether I believe that what feels good for me will be good enough for others to create that “enough” that I need. For me, this is where the concept of slow business begins.
These questions seem so simple, but when you’re starting a business, they’re rarely laid out on the table. Mainly because they’re hard to answer. As our confidence grows and as successes roll in, the answers can change—just like in a casino when you’re on a winning streak. Why stop if you could double it? Or make ten times as much! Oh, there might be a cost? Working seven days a week, dealing with stress, and so on? Who cares, as long as I can make it onto the cover of Forbes!
When I launched Games for Business, I calculated the amount of money I wanted to earn with it. I decided that once I reached that amount, I’d stop. And I did. Check—it’s done.
Years have passed, and now I want to do something good again—build something that is useful, that solves a problem in other people’s lives. In short, I want to make an impact. But building a company, especially a new one, involves a lot of work, headaches, development, risk-taking, investment, finding people, fixing their mistakes, pouring my time into keeping the system functional, and addressing operational anomalies—all instead of doing what I actually love.
Let’s let that go. I love living my life the way I do now. I’m lucky. I have time for the things and people I love. Is my ego’s desire for success worth giving that up? No. Do I still feel the urge to create something? Yes. So, let’s do the math.
Back to the original question: how much is “enough”? This is the first thing I want to get clear. I have a pretty good sense of my monthly expenses (food, housing, kids, clothing, etc.), so I know what I need to cover that. I’ve also thought about my yearly expenses that aren’t part of the regular budget (travel, planned major purchases) and considered any big expenses coming up in the next 3-5 years (like replacing a car). By averaging these, accounting for inflation, and setting aside a cushion, I can establish an annual income goal.
Starting a business requires risking your own money, which could otherwise earn interest in a bank. To account for that risk, I use a multiplier to adjust the plan. And then there’s the question of security: how much savings do I want to build up? If I feel secure, it’s a little; if I’m anxious about the future, it’s more. So, I multiply the amount by that too. This is what’s “enough” for me.
And now the thoughts are already racing: okay, but what if I want a vacation home on the Spanish coast? Or if a regular car isn’t enough, and I need a luxury one—or two? That’s for you to decide. Just be clear about it. If you know, you can weigh whether you really need it or if renting occasionally might suffice. That looks great on Instagram too, so no worries.
I know how much “enough” is for me, and it’s not that big. But of course, it depends on who you ask.
When the acquisition agreement for G4B was in front of me, one of my co-owners said, “Don’t sell it—bring in investment, grow for a few more years, and you’ll sell it for much more.” I didn’t need more. I got out. I don’t know what would’ve happened if I hadn’t sold, but I know how it feels now that I did.
And, of course, the question of “how much is enough” isn’t just about money. What do you want for your business? For me, it was important to have a lot of people working for me. I must’ve felt important because of it—power. The first employee, then when we crossed 10, then 20, and finally, we hit around 35. The office was full, people were everywhere, and some even worked from home. But I couldn’t generate more profit than before because one bad month would wipe out the gains from the good ones.
But I saw something amazing. Around 2010, I met a guy about 10-15 years older than me—so, around 50. In a modest office on the ground floor of a fancy downtown building in Budapest, I had a chat with him, trying to build a partnership. His company consisted of just two people: him and his wife. At that time, their revenue was around 1 billion forints—which is still pretty staggering now. They worked with large corporations, with no political dealings. So there it was—living proof that you don’t need a lot of people to make big—big enough—money.
I know, a long lead-in. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, trying to find a concept or market approach where the numbers add up. But numbers alone don’t mean much. There’s also the question of how it feels—what is the quality of the experience in the business? What are the values that determine whether I find what I’m doing “good enough”? Why is this important to me? Because it’s the primary factor in whether I can be proud of it. Whether I can talk about it with conviction and joy, whether I want to stand in front of others and share what I’m doing—even if the numbers don’t add up.
For me, it’s essential to separate these. Quality questions determine whether I’ll do it, whether I’ll take the risk. If the quality I consider “good enough” isn’t sustainable, I don’t want to do it. After that come the quantitative questions, which determine how long the business will last.
Because a business’s job is to make money.
How much? Enough. No more. Because the cost of “more” is likely higher than its value in my life.
So, why bother?
The article was originally published on the vendler.hu blog.