Danny's right about Brian from finance. Brian is real. I've met Brian. I've hired Brian. And I understand why every channel founder who's ever sat across from Brian in a Monday pipeline review wanted to throw a chair through the window.
But here's what Danny doesn't talk about, because he can't see it from where he sits: what those companies looked like before Brian showed up.
I spent three years on the vendor side evaluating channel partners for strategic investments. My job was to walk into MSPs, VARs, and agencies and figure out which ones were real businesses and which ones were talented people running on fumes. I saw the books. I saw the operations. I saw everything the founder didn't show at the conference dinner.
You want to know what I found?
Gross margins that swung 20 points quarter to quarter because nobody tracked cost of delivery. Customer contracts that auto-renewed annually but hadn't been repriced since 2017. Top performers carrying 40% of revenue with no non-compete and no documentation of their relationships. Service delivery that lived in one engineer's head. If he quit on a Friday, Monday was a five-alarm fire.
These were good companies. Good people. Real relationships. Danny's right about all of that. The founder knew every customer's name. The team felt like family. The Christmas party was legendary.
But the Christmas party doesn't pay for the cybersecurity insurance renewal that just went up 35%. The family atmosphere doesn't cover the fact that you're running a $6M business on QuickBooks and a shared Google Drive. Knowing every customer by name doesn't help when your biggest client calls at 2 AM and the only person who can fix their firewall is on vacation in Costa Rica with no cell service.
The channel has a romance problem. We romanticize the scrappy founder who built it all from a garage. And that story is real and it's admirable. But somewhere between the garage and $5M in recurring revenue, the business outgrew the founder's ability to run it on instinct alone. Most of them knew it. Most of them were exhausted. They just didn't have a way out that let them keep their dignity and their equity at the same time.
PE gave them that way out.
Was the pitch cynical sometimes? Yes. "Nothing will change" is almost always a lie and everyone in the room knows it. But the alternative was worse. The alternative nobody in the channel wants to talk about. Slow decline. Margins compressing every year as vendors sold more direct. Customers consolidating their IT spend with fewer, larger providers. Cybersecurity getting more complex while the team stayed the same size. The founder working 70-hour weeks at 58, knowing he couldn't sell the company for what it was worth because there was no company without him in it.
That was the real trajectory for hundreds of channel businesses before PE showed up. Not explosive growth. Not a dramatic failure. Just a slow, quiet erosion of everything they'd built, with no succession plan and no capital to invest in what came next.
Danny wrote about his buddy whose MSP got acquired. Fifteen years, knew every customer, PE came in and ruined the culture. I believe him. I've seen it happen. But I've also seen the version Danny didn't write about: the founder who sold to PE at 7x EBITDA, stayed for two years, mentored the new leadership team, and walked away at 55 with $4M in the bank and zero regrets. He's coaching his kid's baseball team now. His employees still have jobs. His customers are still getting served. The company is bigger and more stable than he ever could have made it alone.
That story doesn't get told at the hotel bar because it's not dramatic. Nobody buys a round of bourbon to say "I sold my company and it worked out fine." But it's the more common outcome. For every culture-destroying horror story, there are five quiet successes where PE money did exactly what it was supposed to do: professionalize a good business so it could survive without its founder.
Here's where Danny and I actually agree, even if he'd phrase it differently: the problem isn't PE. The problem is bad PE. The firms that buy a company and immediately gut the thing that made it valuable. The ones who install Brian from finance on day one instead of spending six months understanding why the business works before changing anything. The ones who treat a 15-year-old MSP like a spreadsheet optimization problem.
Good PE exists. I've worked with it. It keeps the founder involved. It invests in the team before it restructures the team. It brings the org chart and the KPI dashboard, sure, but it also brings growth capital the founder couldn't access alone. The acquisition that turns a $6M MSP into a $20M platform. That doesn't happen on a bank line of credit and the founder's personal guarantee.
Danny called PE the railroad coming to the Wild West. It's a good line. But he left out the part where the railroad brought the telegraph, the mail, and the supply chain that turned frontier towns into actual cities. The Wild West was romantic. It was also brutal and short-lived. The founders who survived were the ones who figured out how to work with the railroad instead of standing in front of it.
The channel is in the middle of that same transition. It's painful. Some of the best parts of what made this industry special are getting lost. Danny's not wrong about that, and I'd never tell him he was.
But the answer isn't to wish PE away. It's to demand better PE. Better terms. Better respect for the people who built the value in the first place. That's a fight worth having. And it's one the channel can win, but only if it stops pretending the alternative was some kind of paradise.
The alternative was a slow fade. I've seen the numbers. Most of those founders had.
They took the money because they did the math. And the math was right.