Pajamas to profit: Launch your Open Source empire

How did your Open Source journey begin? Were you coding in pjs, or did you start with a formal business plan with the clothes to match?

I’m asking because I started my venture at home, in the bedroom. It felt like society expected an instant transformation into a Goldman Sachs-type figurehead just because I became a founder and part of a management team.

Once upon a time, in 1998, I in my bedroom in the family home. I was 24. I had recently completed my master’s degree in computer science. What I would do with it wasn’t clear to me yet.

One thing was certain: my passion for Linux and, more generally, operating systems.

I was very impressed by NextStep – you might remember it as the company started by Steve Jobs after he resigned from Apple.

At the time, I sensed an opportunity to create an operating system that combined the power of Unix and Linux with a truly user-friendly interface. A kind of NextStep for everyone. It didn’t exist at the time. Windows 95 was indeed a true milestone in the PC user experience since the OS ran a graphical interface by default, but frankly had little else to recommend it.

Why not combine Linux with a great user interface to create the ultimate operating system?

This is exactly what propelled Mandrake Linux to success by the late 1990s, fueled by countless hours of hard work and a lucky break on Slashdot.

This started everything. In the summer of ’98, after the initial announcement, I unplugged for a much-needed vacation (the internet was a luxury back then). When I came back, there were hundreds of messages in my email box, new users, new partners, new resellers, new supporters, new fans…a response that would have made any business school graduate envious.

But I wasn’t really into business. I was into software engineering and trying to change the world from my bedroom.

However, I soon realized that I could make something from this project. I made many new contacts, from many different parts of the world, asking me for different things, and supporting me. There were even offers to start a business.

Picture this: I’m a 24-year-old software engineer who just launched a new desktop Linux distribution. The Linux craze was in full swing and while I was riding the wave professionally, my personal life was a different story. An introvert with limited social interaction outside of playing electric guitar in a few bands, I was still living at my parent’s home and single.

In less than a year, I would have to become a founder, a product owner, and a shareholder — with all the excitement and the pain that comes with it.

So by the end of ’98, I had a product: a Linux desktop distribution that many loved, a website and some significant sales. then I’m starting a corporate with partners, we are doing Mandrakesoft, and we sell Mandrake Linux on a CD, bundled with documentation and support. My initial position is quite unclear actually, because my partners mostly let me work in the product and engineering space. I’m also deeply involved with operations and decision-making, carrying significant weight in the company.

But soon, tensions arise: Building a product alone is vastly different from leading a team. I honestly hadn’t expected the depth of commitment some of our newly hired developers would bring to the project. It’s really about product design and product ownership: when you’re alone to decide in your bedroom, it’s very easy to make choices. When you have a team, you must negotiate about what should or shouldn’t be in the product. Employees don’t care if you’re the founder and one of the main owners: some of them had more prestigious degrees, more experience, or a stronger corporate background.

So being a founder, at some point, just doesn’t count and you have to adapt.

You also have to take part in some strategic meetings, some sales meetings, some HR meetings. All those things that you didn’t learn as a software engineer, because there are harder problems in computer science, like dealing with concurrent processes in an operating system, or algorithms that have a non-linear complexity, information theory, just born neural networks theories in AI or bezier curves.

Adapting didn’t look like wearing a tie or a suit. That just wasn’t me. Unbelievably, I still vividly recall a new CEO we hired in 2004 mocking my sweater.

Adaptation became a necessity, not a choice. It was a far cry from my early passions, but survival demanded it. You need to grok shareholder agreements, legal and financial implications, and begin formulating sales and marketing strategies plusunderstand people, egos and the balance of power.

As a founder, I realized that starting a passion project and running a company are totally different. Launching a project driven by instinct is worlds apart from navigating the complexities of top-level management and its constraints.

In the end, those are new skills to conquer, and most of the time they are interesting.

But there’s a trap that happens to many of us. When a project is growing: you want to keep control, to decide about many little things, especially when it’s related to the product.
That’s not possible, for several reasons:

• Lack of time: At age 25, despite working long nights, it eventually becomes impossible to keep up with everything, to seek advice, and to contribute to every discussion, even when you’re not the sole member of the management team (in fact, there were three of us from the start).
• Skills: Even if you’re willing to learn, it’s not easy to be an expert on everything. Doing this would be crazy, as it would imply you’re a humanoid with artificial intelligence rather than a human with a biological brain. The idea itself is also super arrogant.
• Human relationships: if you think you can do everything better than others, it doesn’t make sense to hire people.

I realized delegation was essential. I couldn’t handle software engineering management, communications and everything else alone.

Effective delegation is essential, but you’ve got to find the right people to hand things off to. That means getting serious about hiring the best talent.

Delegating saved me: At Mandrakesoft I soon cut myself a lot from engineering. It wasn’t that easy because I loved engineering. Egos can be a challenge, but ultimately, software engineering is grounded in solid academic principles.

The challenges are mostly about what’s in the product, its quality, and of course, innovation.

Innovation and product marketing need to stand as creative processes. And I found myself enjoying product marketing. Once you have sharp people in charge of marketing and product, it becomes easier to have the R&D team implement what’s expected.

Interestingly, my voice was always heard regarding the product and we have been able to imagine new and very successful products for years. I still remember “MandrakeMove” which was a full MandrakeLinux on a USB key. You could start the system on any PC without any prior installation, and keep the data safe on the USB stick.

Reflecting on the past 25 years, I wanted to share key experiences. One pivotal challenge was transitioning from a solo developer to being part of the management team of a 150-person company.

After Mandrakesoft, my story as an entrepreneur continued and I tried to apply everything I learned at Mandrakesoft in my next ventures, Ulteo and currently Murena.

Interestingly, before Murena, I gravitated towards non-executive roles. I lacked the confidence to lead as a CEO. At Ulteo, I served as CTO, delegating the CEO role to a colleague. However, my perspective has evolved and at Murena, I’m at ease in the CEO role.

However, at Murena, I now feel completely at ease in my role as CEO.

It only took me 20 years!

The journey from my bedroom to the boardroom was neither straight nor smooth, but it was filled with valuable lessons and personal growth.

So, how did I become confident enough to step into the CEO shoes? It wasn’t a sudden change but a gradual process of learning and adapting. Over the years, I realized that being a leader isn’t about knowing everything or making all the decisions alone. It’s about building a great team, delegating effectively, and staying true to your vision. My confidence grew as I learned to trust others and saw the positive impact of collaborative efforts.

As for my work attire, not much has changed. I still stick to jeans and t-shirts, even in my role as CEO. On rare formal occasions or receptions, I might wear a suit, but my everyday style remains casual. In this era of remote work, you’ll usually find me in a videoconference meeting wearing a t-shirt or a company logo sweatshirt.

Looking back, the informal start in my bedroom, often coding in pajamas, shaped a personal work culture that values substance over style. It’s a reminder that great ideas and successful ventures can spring from the most humble beginnings.

For all the Open Source founders out there, whether you start in pajamas or a suit – or even suitjamas? – the journey is about perseverance, passion and staying true to yourself!

Follow me on Mastodon @[email protected] to continue the conversation.

This article is part of our series on Practical Open Source (POSI) program. POSI aims to facilitate discussions about doing business with and for Open Source. The 2024 edition consists of blog posts on OpenSource.net and a panel at All Things Open in October. More details and how to pitch on the POSI 2024 page.