Stresswood: Resilience as an Investment Criterion

How a '90s experiment taught me strength comes from stress.

In the early 1990s, a group of scientists built Biosphere 2 in the Arizona desert, a huge glass dome designed to recreate Earth’s ecosystems. They controlled everything: the air, the light, the soil. Plants thrived. Trees grew fast. Then they started to fall over.

What the scientists realized was that by removing wind, they removed struggle. Without pressure pushing against them, the trees never developed the inner fibers that keep real trees upright. Those fibers are called stress wood.

That image has been sitting with me. Because in 2020 and 2021, a lot of us were living inside our own biosphere. Capital was cheap, customers were spending, and almost anything you built could raise another round. It felt perfect, until it wasn’t.

Now AI has created another wave of good times. Every company has a story. Every deck has traction. At the enterprise level, you can’t afford not to be experimenting with AI, so pilots turn into revenue, and everyone looks like they’re winning. But the question that matters, especially at Series A, is simple: will it hold when the wind shows up?

For investors, that’s a harder call than it used to be. You can’t just say, “too early.” Everyone’s got early numbers, a few customers, a handful of testimonials. What you’re really trying to figure out is:
Who’s obsessed with the problem?
Who left a comfortable job because they couldn’t stop thinking about this?
Who will still be here when the hype cycle cools?

That’s what makes this moment both tough and alive. Founders can’t fake conviction for long, and investors can’t fake discernment either.

That’s where Stresswood comes in for me. It isn’t just a name; it’s a filter. It’s a reminder that resilience isn’t cosmetic, but it’s structural. You don’t get stronger from smooth conditions. You get stronger from friction. From resistance. From the stuff that bends you but doesn’t break you.

It’s also how I’m building this firm. I’m taking my own route, more intentional, more transparent. I’m not rushing to raise this sizable fund or chase a headline. I’m building something I actually believe in. That means valuing long-term relationships, taking the time to earn trust, and letting people see the work in progress.

I know this path isn’t for everyone. But it fits me. I’ve always played the long game, taking on high risk and high conviction, with a deep belief that consistency compounds. When you stay curious and stay connected, you keep learning in public. And people can see that commitment.

Most days, I feel the wind myself. The pressure, the uncertainty, the stretch. And I’m grateful for it. Because that’s how the wood gets strong. That’s how the roots deepen.

This is a market where surface-level traction can fool smart people. But I’d rather keep betting on the founders, and the peers, who’ve already weathered something. The ones who’ve been bent by stress but still keep growing.

That’s what I’m trying to build here. Something that can stand when the next gust hits.

With gratitude,

E