Entrepreneurship: in boardrooms or community centers?

Who is actually an entrepreneur? In the dominant narrative, it’s the tech nerd in a garage who has just secured their first million in funding, the social entrepreneur who sells their startup to a multinational to “scale impact” (while it often causes mission drift), or the CEO who maximizes shareholder value. In my view, this image has drifted too far from what entrepreneurship really means – and from what our current societal challenges require.

This blog is an English translation of my opinion piece which was published in Het Nederlands Dagblad (in Dutch) on May 2nd 2026.

At its core, entrepreneurship is about recognizing a need in society, developing an idea, and taking calculated risks to build something that creates social value. If we take that definition seriously, the real entrepreneurs in the Netherlands may not be found in boardrooms, but in community centers.

Citizen collectives – such as energy, care, and food cooperatives – are, in my view, social enterprises in their purest form. They not only meet the needs of their members, but also pursue broader societal goals rooted in shared values and ideals. They are not driven by profit, but by urgency – because the market failed, the government stepped back, or simply because people closest to reality often know best what works and what is needed.

Take energy, for example. Shell, which earned €32 billion in profits after decades of gas extraction in Groningen, is once again suing the Dutch state through an arbitration procedure. After leaving local residents with damage and uncertainty, an international investment treaty is now being used to pass the costs onto that same public. In contrast, hundreds of energy cooperatives – such as those affiliated with Energie Samen – are building local renewable energy systems. Not for ultra-wealthy shareholders like Vanguard and BlackRock, but for the community. The value stays local, and so does control.

In the agri-food sector, Jumbo recently put factory-farmed meat on sale again for the first time in a while – a deliberate choice to boost revenue at the expense of animal welfare and nature. Prioritizing profit distribution over impact is not uncommon, even among so-called social enterprises. Tony's Chocolonely, for example, paid its single executive more over ten years than the total premiums distributed to twelve thousand African cocoa farmers combined. In contrast, regenerative cooperative initiatives such as Herenboeren offer a different model: direct collaboration between farmers and consumers, seasonal food, and soil restoration. Here, value does not disappear into the pockets of a few, but is shared in the collective interest.

In healthcare, we see an increasing number of external investors driven by financial returns. This has led to a culture where manipulating billing can become more important than delivering high-quality care. In contrast, there is a rich undercurrent of initiatives such as Nederland Zorgt Voor Elkaar (The Netherlands takes care of each other), where neighbors support the elderly through local pre-care circles, relieve informal caregivers, and help professionals restore a human-centered approach. No billing systems – just compassion as a guiding principle.

The dominant model of entrepreneurship is increasingly based on privatizing value while socializing costs. Profits go to founders and shareholders, while the bill is passed on to taxpayers, the environment, or future generations. Is this true entrepreneurship? A system that rewards those who are best at shifting real social and ecological costs onto others?

Citizen collectives do the opposite. They acknowledge and reduce societal costs, build shared ownership, and distribute risks and returns fairly. This requires courage, organizational skill, and a long-term vision – exactly the qualities we associate with entrepreneurs. In today’s boardrooms, however, these qualities seem increasingly rare: with impatient shareholders breathing down your neck, the vision rarely extends beyond the next quarterly result.

It’s time to change the narrative. Not the man in the slick, expensive suit as the icon of success (or the “girlboss” who fought her way into a male-dominated world), but the unassuming neighbor who starts an energy cooperative, the caring farmer who transforms their business into a food community, the concerned nurse who launches a care collective. They may well be the true entrepreneurs of our time – the undercurrent that, in my view, deserves to become the mainstream.