Founders spend an average of fourteen months running a business they know is dying. Why?
In this raw, unfiltered episode, Anthony Franco opens up about the collapse of MC Squares—a company doing four hundred thousand in monthly revenue that imploded after an Amazon glitch tanked sales by fifty percent overnight. Stephanie Hays shares her battle with a zombie company: profitable, stable, loved by customers, but trapped in limbo with misaligned partners. Together, we break down the two types of business closures, the brutal mechanics of bankruptcy, and why founders suffer alone when they don't have to.
There are two ways a business dies. The first is sudden: you run out of cash, creditors call, and the decision gets made for you. One month you're scaling, the next you're filing bankruptcy because platform dependency destroyed your revenue overnight. The second is slower and more insidious—the zombie company. Revenue trickles in. Customers are happy. But growth has stalled, and you're trapped managing something that will never become what you hoped.
The hardest part isn't the logistics. It's admitting it's terminal. Founders are wired for optimism. We see opportunity in burning buildings. That trait builds companies, but it also keeps us clinging to failing ones long past the point of reason. The moment you realize you're lying to yourself about the numbers, the trajectory, or the team's commitment—that's the moment. You don't need permission to shut it down. You need the guts to act.
Once you make the decision, the real work begins. Start with customers. If they've been with you for years, they've built workflows around your product. Pick up the phone. Explain the situation. Give them a timeline. Don't send an email first—they deserve the honesty of your voice. Next, your team. Tell them immediately. Every day you delay is a day you're stealing from their job search. Then comes the financial unraveling: selling assets, negotiating with landlords, closing credit lines. If you signed personal guarantees—and you probably did, even if you don't remember—those lenders will come after you. An LLC doesn't protect you if your name is on a loan document.
Founders don't talk enough about how shutting down feels like losing a child. Not literally—but the grief is real. You built something. You named it. You poured years into it. And now you have to admit it didn't work. The shame is overwhelming. You feel like you've let everyone down. But here's the truth founders are already twice as likely to experience depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation. When a business fails, those risks spike. Talk to someone. A therapist. A fellow founder. A friend who's been through it. The business failed—that doesn't mean you did.
Here's what no one tells you: there is life after shutdown. You might lose sleep, savings, or relationships. But you will not lose your ability to build again. The experience you gained, the problems you solved—those are yours forever. Companies specifically hire founders who've been through failure because they know the resilience it creates. Give yourself permission to mourn. Take a few days. Feel the loss. Then get back up.
Shutting down requires you to admit failure, disappoint people you care about, and dismantle something you built. But waiting too long only makes it worse. The moment you know it's over, act. Protect your customers, your team, and yourself. Closure isn't defeat—it's the beginning of whatever comes next.
Watch the Full Episode on shutting down your business below:
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