Should You Focus on Mission or Money? The Answer is Yes.

In 2018, a friend of mine, Chris, became the first COO of a small chain of coffee shops that had just raised capital to expand from five to ten locations. Since opening their first shop in 2009, the group had garnered strong community loyalty, including mine. Each space was warm and welcoming—a hub of activity throughout the day. Given their track record, growth felt inevitable. 

The two co-founders, Janine and John, actively fostered connection to the people they served through donations, events, and neighborhood initiatives. Their financial results were solid, and they were poised for growth. Chris took the job because he believed in the mission to build community. 

But a seismic shift happened as soon as he arrived. Janine, the face of the business since Day One, moved back to her hometown to address a family matter, and John stepped into the managing partner role. 

John quickly gave Chris a new mandate: focus on efficiency, reduce costs, and streamline the P&L. Chris dug in, and his work generated short-term results that impressed both John and the investor. 

A few months into his tenure, I visited one of the locations and noticed the front door was dirty. There was no one at the counter to greet me. I had never experienced this, but I let it slide. At another shop, I noticed the same issues. I wasn’t sure what to share with Chris—he was new and under pressure. 

In early 2019, Chris shared their annual investor report with me. Sales were down, but profit was up. An investor might appreciate the increased profit, but I didn’t. The declining sales were a red flag. 

Then I read one of the final lines that John had written: “Our focus on efficiency has enabled us to pay out bonuses to our managers, and an increased profit distribution to investors.” 

As I read that line, I was overcome with a feeling of panic. Over the year, I could feel the business slipping. My visits became less frequent. 

Later that year, Chris told me that John would be leaving the partnership and that Janine was returning. The investor had shared similar concerns, and John was forced out. He had miscalculated and lost his way. What he thought would please the investor gutted the core of the business. 

In early 2020, Janine returned, eager to reinvigorate the company. She refreshed the spaces and reinstated the group’s original standards. 

Then COVID hit, forcing closures. 

The business never recovered. John had drained cash reserves through distributions, leaving no safety net. Even with layoffs, loans, and landlord support, the company couldn’t survive more than a few months without revenue. It officially dissolved in early 2021, forcing Chris to start over. 

Those businesses that did survive the pandemic had something in common: they were resilient community magnets, and they emerged even stronger. 

For me, the lesson is clear: when you drift from your purpose, the numbers might improve for a while—but something more important starts to erode. 

And once it’s gone, it’s hard to get back. 

So here’s the question I’ve been sitting with: 

Where in your business are you trading long-term trust for short-term results? 

Have you ever felt the tension between doing what’s right for your people and what looks good on a spreadsheet? 

If you have, what did you choose? 

Until next time, make it a great shift.