Consensus Kills: Why You Should Pitch the One Thing No One Wants to Hear (Yet)

One of the oddest things about biotech investing is how often everyone agrees. We agree on the hot areas. We agree on the problem statements. We agree that AI is important, that neuro is hard, that oncology is hot, and that “platforms” are more scalable than “one-trick ponies.”

And then we act surprised when the companies we fund all look eerily similar.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: consensus is comforting, but it is the enemy of outsized returns. In a world where everyone agrees, the upside is already priced in. And the only thing left to discover is who will be slightly faster or slightly cheaper.

If you want to find something truly valuable in biotech, you have to be willing to pitch something that—at first—sounds ridiculous.

Not fraudulent, mind you. Not Theranos. But uncomfortable. Contrarian. Maybe even boring. The kind of thing where the first three investors say, “I don’t get it.” That’s not a red flag. That’s a green light.

Michael Burry didn’t short the housing market because he had better data. He shorted it because he actually read the documents. The same principle applies here. The founder who spots the pattern nobody else is watching—the change in reimbursement logic, the forgotten mechanism of action, the underpriced trial design—that founder is not delusional. They’re early.

But biotech, like all status games, punishes nonconformity. The further you stray from the dominant narrative, the more sceptical the response. Try telling a room of investors that your cell therapy company doesn’t want to raise a Series A. Try suggesting that your rare disease startup isn’t looking for an FDA breakthrough designation. Watch how quickly the eyes glaze over.

And yet, this is where the real opportunities lie. In the cracks between conventional wisdom and unexplored truth. In the uncomfortable middle where the story doesn’t quite fit the current pitch deck template.

If you pitch a consensus idea, your upside is capped by everyone else who’s doing the same thing. If you pitch a contrarian one, your downside is ridicule. But your upside? That’s unbounded.

This doesn’t mean every weird idea is a good one. But it does mean that we should recalibrate how we assess novelty. Is it new, or just poorly timed? Is it bad, or just misunderstood? Is it contrarian, or just inconvenient?

The job of the founder isn’t to win agreement. It’s to make the case. The job of the investor isn’t to nod. It’s to notice.

And if nobody wants to hear what you’re saying? You might just be early. Or wrong. But in biotech, those two things often look identical until the final readout.

So pitch the hard thing. Say the awkward bit. Point to the idea that doesn’t yet have a conference track. Because consensus might sell the round, but it won’t move the needle.

And the market doesn’t pay you to be polite. It pays you to be right—eventually.