Just Asking for Money Is Not a Strategy

Somewhere between the lab bench and the pitch deck, a strange thing happens to many biotech founders. These are individuals with more post-nominals than a UN delegation. PhDs, MDs, sometimes both. They can explain the subtle mechanics of ion channel modulation, draw the entire MAPK pathway from memory, and name every paper ever written about their biomarker of choice. What they can’t do, often, is ask for money properly.

When you inquire who they’re raising from, the answer is usually: “Investors.”
Yes. Good. But which kind?

Is it venture capital? Angel networks? Family offices with a rare disease mandate? Strategic corporate partners? Translational funds tied to hospitals or big pharma? Too often, this line of questioning is met with a blank stare, or worse, a hopeful shrug. The same precision used in designing CRISPR delivery vectors vanishes when defining target investor personas.

Science is specific. Capital is contextual. The person whose LinkedIn bio says “healthcare investor” may exclusively back medtech. Or they might be an LP, not a direct funder. Or they may have closed their last fund in 2019 and now just teach at a business school. Diligence is not just for experiments—it’s for humans, too.

And then there's the fallback: the grant. Grants are lovely. Predictable, bureaucratic, blessedly non-dilutive. They are the comfort blanket of translational research. But if every cash flow problem is met with “we’ll apply for another grant,” you're not building a business. You're filing paperwork on behalf of your science project.

There’s a deeper issue, though. Many scientists still operate under the assumption that good science sells itself. That accuracy will attract capital. That mechanisms of action will inspire term sheets. It’s a noble idea. It’s also wrong.

Investors don’t fund molecules. They fund narratives. And to pitch a narrative, you have to understand the listener. This isn’t about dressing up the science in buzzwords. It’s about actually knowing who you’re speaking to, and why they should care.

Fundraising is more like dating than grant writing. You don’t walk into a restaurant and yell, “I’m looking for love.” You show up prepared. You’ve read their profile. You’re not pitching marriage on the first coffee. You dress like you tried. You listen. You respond. You find alignment.

(And yes, this approach works. I’ve been married for eight years. First date: showed up on time, listened carefully, wore a jacket.)

Too often, though, founders “spray and pray.” They send the same deck to 60 investors with no segmentation, no personalization, and no real sense of fit. Then they wonder why the inbox stays silent.

So here’s the takeaway: just asking for money is not enough. Know who you’re talking to. Know what they’ve funded before, what stage they invest in, what excites them, and what keeps them up at night. Build a case that’s as tight as your assay protocol.

If you want capital, earn attention. Respect the other side’s bandwidth. And don’t just pitch—engage. Otherwise, your science may remain peer-reviewed... but unfunded.