Lessons From the VC Who's Seen It All Before

Wearing a long-sleeve black shirt, blue shorts, a knee brace on his right leg (basketball injury), and a backpack filled with water bottles and an emergency water-filtration straw (don’t ask), Jeff Jordan appears from behind a line of trees. Lean bordering on gaunt, with closely cropped black hair, Jordan has already hiked 40 minutes in the woods before arriving for a scheduled walk-and-talk on a trail near his home in ­Portola Valley, Calif. “Sorry,” he says. “I wake up really early.”

Jordan, who is 60, savors his alone time in the morning. Office hours are at the nearby venture capital firm Andreessen Horowitz, where he meets with entrepreneurs, listens to pitches, and decides which of these prospects are worthy of the firm’s backing. But in the wee hours, he typically sets out alone. “I have to be an extrovert at work. So to recover, I just walk through the hills,” he says, before making the shocking confession, at least in the type A world of Silicon Valley VCs, that he’s “right on the introvert-extrovert line.” Says Jordan: “It’s the only thing in my day I do that’s solitary. Everything else is meeting after meeting after meeting.”

Fortunately for Jordan and his partners, his enervating face time has proved fruitful. On behalf of Andreessen Horowitz, Jordan invested early in what are now some of the hottest companies in tech, including home-­sharing giant Airbnb, grocery delivery company Instacart, and the hobbyist site ­Pinterest. The firm’s bet on Pinterest alone, one of Jordan’s first after joining the firm in 2011, is worth $1 billion. Jordan’s nonmonetary reward: Earlier this year he became managing partner of the decade-old firm, meaning he’s now responsible for personnel, budgeting, day-to-day operations, and the like, all while continuing to invest and sit on boards. (He’s currently on nine, including still-private Airbnb and Instacart, newly public Pinterest, and high-stakes e-scooter startup Lime.)

Jordan is a bit of an outlier at the epicenter of the global technology industry, a place of titanic egos and triumphs borne of brilliant ideas. He didn’t become a VC, widely acknowledged to be a young person’s game, until he was in his fifties. He’s not a technologist but rather a general-management type, typically second-class citizens in the Valley. And he at least professes to hate being in the spotlight. What he has, in spades, is something that is gaining currency amid the scandals and missteps of the Valley’s behemoths: experience. Says Meg Whitman, Jordan’s boss at Disney and later at eBay: “Investing requires pattern recognition, and Jeff was able to recognize the potential” of the companies he has invested in, thanks to what he had seen earlier in his career, particularly at eBay.