Nobody builds alone, but nobody builds for us

My neighbor buys a lot. He makes sure the land is buildable and has utilities. I buy the materials, draw up the blueprints, and prepare all the construction permits. But instead of building the house on my lot, I build it on my neighbor’s.

Whose house is it?

We could say the house is mine, but the reality is simple: without the land, there would be no house.

This paradox defines the history of relationships. Often, our growth is due to what our environment provided us. Who has a better chance of fixing your car: a mechanic who worked for Ferrari, or an ordinary one you just met? We could say it depends on many parameters, but the reality is that previous experience added value to that person’s labor.

The same goes for our education. The degree hanging on the wall — the one that makes our chests swell with pride when we remember the sleepless nights it took to get it — depends on our effort, yes, but also on the structure that allowed us to get there. Talent and hours of study need an environment that makes them possible.

Another example: I work for a company. They send me to work with a new client, and I build trust with them. I talk to their people, start my own company, and cut out the middleman to generate more profit for myself.

Where is the ethics in that?

We could say the company created the entire ecosystem for me to reach that client, giving me the backing of years of work that I couldn’t have achieved on my own. There is a massive investment involved in securing a reliable client. But I built the actual relationship. Can we call it disloyalty if the company also profited during the time I worked with them?

Put it this way: the fact that the company benefited from the employee does not erase the disloyalty of certain actions. But it is also true that the company did not build everything alone.

Of course, this is just an example, and things can be handled better. The new question is: what is the fair way to part ways after building value together?