When preparing for a one-on-one with a venture capitalist, a business angel, or that elusive senior official from a government department, there’s one crucial skill that often gets overlooked. No, it’s not your elevator pitch or the financial forecast with more colours than a Eurovision final. It’s the ability to step outside of yourself and view your business from the perspective of the person sitting opposite you.
It’s about looking at the pie you’re offering from the other side of the table.
Let’s be honest. Most people walk into these meetings fully immersed in their own world. They know the product, the numbers, the journey, the late nights, the blood, sweat and caffeine. And that’s great, but it’s not enough. Because that person across the table? They’re not living your story. They’re scanning for cues, weighing risk, spotting political or financial opportunity, and thinking, “What does this do for me?”
Let’s take a venture capitalist. They’re not just listening to your passion project. They’re mentally slotting your business into their portfolio, asking, “Will this scale? Will this return tenfold? Will I still look clever in two years if I back this?”
Now picture the business angel. Less institutional, perhaps more emotional. They might love your flair, your grit, your story of how you built a prototype using three cable ties and a borrowed 3D printer. But even they need reassurance. Is this founder someone who’ll still be standing when the inevitable hits the fan? Will I be proud to say I backed this at my wife’s next candle lit dinner party or on the links at the weekend?
Then there’s the government department. A different beast entirely. These meetings can feel slightly surreal if you’re not used to the landscape. Yes, they want innovation, yes they’ll talk about impact and regional growth and green jobs. But let’s not kid ourselves. What they really really want is a shiny toy they can hold up and say, “Look what I found. Aren’t I clever/amazing/worthy of employee of the year award…?”
And that’s not a criticism. It’s how the game is played.
These civil servants and policy gatekeepers operate in a world of competing funding pots, internal power plays, and briefing notes that get waved in front of ministers. If you make them look good, they’ll remember you. If your pitch gives them a win they can report upwards, you’re halfway to yes.
So how do you shape your message?
Start by asking, What’s in it for them? Not in a cynical way. In a very clear, deliberate, strategic way. You must match what you have with what they want to be seen discovering.
For example, if you’re meeting someone from a department focused on levelling up regions, don’t just tell them about your amazing product. Tell them it’s being built in a town in their area that hasn’t had a tech success story since VHS tapes were still a thing. Talk about local jobs, apprenticeships, and community outreach. Help them write their own press release in their head.
If your meeting’s with someone focused on green innovation, don’t get lost in the weeds of your clever engineering. Talk impact. Talk carbon. Talk in ways that help them link your idea to their next policy announcement.
This isn’t about being fake or pandering. It’s about strategic empathy. About understanding that being good isn’t always enough. You need to look good in their world.
Think of it like dating, if you like. You might be a catch, but if you show up in a lobster costume and talk exclusively about your stamp collection, the date may not go to plan. You’ve got to read the room. Same goes for pitching.
Here’s a trick: before any meeting, write a paragraph from their perspective. Literally imagine you’re them. What are they worried about? What are they excited to find? What do they need to tell their colleagues, partners, or superiors after you leave the room?
This exercise is grounding. It shifts your focus from transmitting to connecting. From impressing with volume to resonating with purpose.
At the end of the day, the people you’re meeting aren’t just looking for strong businesses. They’re looking for narratives they can champion. Wins they can point to. Solutions that make them feel like pioneers, not just approvers.
So give them that. Become the shiny toy. Just make sure you’re the kind of shiny toy that also delivers, scales, and solves real problems.
That way, you’re not just remembered; but spoken about in the next internal meeting and mentioned in a report that goes further up the chain.
