— Two people being friends — that’s friendship. Two people getting married — that’s spouses. Two people starting a business — that’s partners. But there’s also a "tandem" — a level where energy emerges, creating something new. You can build relationships based on franchises and instructions — that’s also business. Or you can "start a reactor" and build your own — then the energy skyrockets. I don't believe you can do business with someone you find uninteresting. For short-term tasks, an alliance or collaboration is enough (brand + designer, corporation + artist). But "long" projects that stand the test of time rely on mutual human interest and personal chemistry.

Gor Nakhapetyan is an entrepreneur, investor, co-founder of the company Sensemakers, co-founder of the charitable foundation "Friends," co-author of the program "Tandemocracy," professor at the Skolkovo Business School, and one of the most prominent Russian thinkers on business, education, and values. He is called the philosopher of the business world: he speaks not only about money and projects but also about trust, mistakes, partnership, and legacy.

— It all started back in school, when my friends and I created the "Khlam" theater, which brought together artists, actors, musicians—a mix of temperaments and perspectives. Then came the "Men of Armenian Radio" KVN team at the Yerevan Medical Institute (I wasn’t a medical student myself; my friends studied there), two-time champions of the Soviet Union and CIS. That was the first major experience where friendship transformed into partnership. Later, the company "Sharm" emerged, along with the city association of school KVN, which gave rise to Garik Martirosyan, Arthur Janbekyan, and the "New Armenians." A bit later, this energy flowed into the entrepreneurial side of Comedy Club. Since the early nineties, we’ve tried building ventures together—and that’s how the sense of tandems and alliances formed, making possible what cannot be achieved alone.

— It's a paradox: everyone agrees you need to learn parenting, but somehow no one learns partnership. That’s why my tandem partners Victoria Mikhaylova and the Skolkovo School of Management launched our "partnership school," and at the end of October, together with Dmitry Gritsk, we’re holding a major conference on the same topic. As part of the partnership program, we systematically work through not only legal aspects but also the culture of agreements. We call this "contract crafting." In tandems, it unfolds in three layers:

1. Administrative layer: shares, contributions, money, time. Who invests how much and in what way, who receives what upon exit.

2. Professional layer: roles, competencies, who we "bring in" to the team and why. How we grow in expertise, how we learn together.

3. Psychological layer: the foundation. This is where formalities most often break down. It’s necessary to discuss expectations, fears, and horizons.

Fears are transformed into contract clauses. For example: "I'm afraid you’ll get bored and leave," "I'm afraid you’ll make a key decision without me," "I'm afraid of an emergency scenario—what if I’m no longer here." From these fears, rules emerge: what happens to the share in case of an emergency, how the buyback mechanism works, what triggers activate a moratorium/veto/negotiations, and what constitutes an "entrepreneur's sabbatical" (e.g., the right to a one-year leave after 10 years). The horizon is a separate conversation: one partner envisions 3−5 years of "quick money," the other sees an "era and a mission." That’s why we fix a timeline for revisiting agreements—for instance, every 5 years we sit down and update them. Without this kind of "time synchronization," there will inevitably come a moment when one partner is already "there," while the other is still "here."

— We spent a great deal of money on consultants and lawyers, studied various models to give employees a real opportunity to become co-owners. We established strict rules: only employees could buy shares; upon departure, the company was obligated to buy them back. We spent a year designing the system—and it operated for over five years, until the company was acquired by Sberbank. Around 140 partners cashed out, and no one "ended up in the red."

But that’s not the main point. We calculated: roughly 10% of employees were partners—and we observed a "tipping point" effect: if 10% of people believe in something, eventually everyone comes to believe in it. The culture was "sustained" by the carriers of its values. The formal partnership ended with the sale, but the spirit remained. We continued to meet, teach, and established an endowment, whose income funds the "Above and Beyond Dreams" program—a door to the world for talented young people: courses, mentorship, internships at leading institutions. This is what continuity truly means.

— The classic scenario is rare: when children genuinely wish to continue and are prepared for it. More often, children have their own life paths and interests. You can’t "hang" a brass factory on an artist. In such cases, we look for successors within the team: key people who are essentially "carrying" the business on their shoulders. It’s crucial to give them a stake and motivation—otherwise, they may leave for competitors or launch a similar project, taking clients and partners with them.

— Avoid going to court. A lawsuit means revenge, burnout, and years of your life. No one in court cares about your business. Always assume your partner is at least 10% right—that already gives you 20% of common ground. The best "breakup" is one that was anticipated in the agreements. Exit and buyout rules must be established before conflict arises. Otherwise, the organization suffers: "tug-of-war" ensues—people leave, culture crumbles. An "eco-friendly divorce" is a professional responsibility to the team.

— Society prefers to see a "single leader," but investors look at the team. In "long-lasting" companies, partners "swap roles": one handles crises while the other steps back; then they switch. Even build health into your agreements: annual checkups are a company asset. And keep an "emergency kit": access, signatures, instructions—so a scenario where "100% of shares belong to one person, and they suddenly disappear" doesn’t paralyze operations.

— I searched for my archetype for a long time. One day, I realized: where my energy lies is where I should be. And it lies in education. From that moment on, I began winding down everything unrelated to teaching and focusing on projects that develop people. There’s a saying: "Those who build schools close prisons." I don’t remember who said it, but I stand by it.

— We live not in a world of machines, but in a world of relationships. Mistakes are our capital, trust is our currency, and partnership is our strategic asset. People need people. True strength is born from "we."

— Confusion of concepts. A partner is not the same as an investor. I often hear: "I don’t need a partner, just give me money—I'll handle it myself." But then what you need is not a partner, but a shareholder. When a true partner comes on board, it’s crucial to outline key benchmarks: what will trigger intervention/buyout/stop-loss. The other person has their own fears—they will want veto power, "their own" controller. This is a matter of agreement. But without psychological alignment, the structure will collapse even with perfect legal agreements.

— Yes, the earlier, the better: through group assignments and real-world projects—volunteer, social, charitable initiatives. Through these, children learn to negotiate. We start teaching adults using the PCM (Process Communication Model) communication tool—it explains the different personality types, their needs, and how to help them manage stress. We already have 250+ certified trainers; when that number reaches 2,500, it will significantly elevate the capacity for constructive agreements in the country. Estimates suggest that growth in a culture of trust can have a multiplier effect on GDP: studies by Alexander Auzan indicate a potential of up to +60%—this isn’t an "overnight fix," of course, but it’s the right direction.

Author: Anastasia Kremleva