Philosophy

Why I Wouldn't Take a Partner

This is the last of three short pieces on contractors I watched fail. The common thread is that the binding constraint — the part of the system that capped everything else — was the owner. The first burned the labor; the second drove a route instead of building a business. This one froze on a single decision, and the reason it froze is the reason I would not take a business partner. The story is anonymized; the lesson is the point.


Failure three: the repair they wouldn’t fund

The third contractor was a partnership, and the partnership was the constraint in the most literal way possible.

A truck needed a costly repair. Keeping the fleet on the road meant writing a check that neither partner wanted to write, and so — between the two of them — the decision stalled. The repair did not get funded in time. The capacity it represented went dark. And the operation lost its contract over a decision that, made fast by a single owner, would have been an ordinary Tuesday.

The boxes do not wait for two people to agree. That is the whole story.


The partnership pattern

Two of the three failures in this series were partnerships, and I do not think that is a coincidence.

This is my opinion, and I know some people have built good operations with partners, so take it as a strong preference rather than a law: I would not take a business partner in a FedEx Ground operation. The reason is speed.

This business punishes hesitation. The volume moves, a driver quits, a truck breaks, peak arrives — and the right response is almost always to act now, decisively, with money and trucks and people. A partnership, by its nature, slows that down. It turns fast, one-person decisions into negotiations. It institutionalizes exactly the hesitation the business is least able to afford.

A partner is not a bad person. A partnership is a governor on your decision speed, and decision speed is the thing that keeps the mountain of boxes off your back. If you do partner, at least settle in advance who can unilaterally spend to keep trucks on the road — because the day you are negotiating that across a kitchen table is the day a route is already going uncovered.


Forward is the only direction

Pull all three failures together and the same shape appears every time. The owner became the constraint — by burning the labor, by refusing to build, by freezing on a decision. And the market they were all serving never slowed down to wait for them.

That is the lesson I would leave you with. In this business, forward is almost always the correct direction. When in doubt, you need more trucks and more people, sized to cover the flow with room to spare — the discipline of time and space and the layers of coverage are how you do it on purpose.

I have bought trucks plenty of times. I have never, a few weeks later, thought I wish I did not have so many trucks. Every single time, the thought runs the other way — I should have gotten a couple more. The mountain of boxes never stops, never apologizes, and never waits. Your only real job is to never be the thing that stops it.


The single sentence to take with you

If you remember one sentence from this article, make it this one:

A partnership is a governor on your decision speed — it turns a fast one-person call into a negotiation — and in a business that punishes hesitation, the safe direction is almost always forward: more trucks, more people, faster.

Find your constraint honestly, even when it is in the mirror. Then get out of your own way and feed the operation.