When I was a freshman at Stanford University, I learned to shotgun a beer from a guy in a frat. Soon after, he dropped out and started an AI company. Six months later, it was valued at more than $1 billion.For most students, Stanford is a normal competitive school, where people go to class and coffee shops and fall in love and freak out over finals.
But a select few attend something else: a Stanford inside Stanford, where venture capitalists pursue 18- and 19-year-olds, handing out mentorships and money and invites to yacht parties in an attempt to convert promise into profit.Steve Blank teaches a legendary start-up class at the school, “Lean Launchpad.” Although students have always dreamed big, Blank told me that Stanford has changed in recent years, placing more and more emphasis on the young founders who may kick back some of their future billions to the university. Today, he said, “Stanford is an incubator with dorms.”AI seems poised to eliminate many entry-level jobs, but it has made this special cohort at Stanford only more valuable.
“Our bread and butter is young students,” a VC explained once, while promising me and a small group of other freshmen and sophomores that if we ever had ideas, her firm would help us out. Investors spend all day hanging out at the Coupa Café on campus. Firms such as Sequoia, Founders Fund, and Pear VC employ talent scouts—a number of them Stanford upperclassmen—to identify the best of the young best.
Then they sink their hooks in.These teenagers are sometimes handed “pre-idea funding”—hundreds of thousands of dollars, or in rare cases, even millions—before they have the glimmer of an actual company in mind. Plied with excess and access, they have little oversight; innovation and fraud co-develop. And all of this is happening as tech companies assume more power over our lives than ever before.This is a story about the kids being groomed to rule the world—and what they’re learning from those who already do.California was the site of the great Gold Rush that transformed America.
That population of young adventurers, Mark Twain wrote, “gave to California a name for getting up astounding enterprises and rushing them through with a magnificent dash and daring and a recklessness of cost or consequences.” Yet the fortune generated by Silicon Valley in the past few decades has exceeded the value of all the gold discovered during the first California boom 200 times over, even adjusted for inflation.Last year, the value of public companies based in the area was $23 trillion—greater than the GDPs of the United Kingdom, Germany, India, and the entire continent of Africa combined. Private companies add at least another $1 trillion.
As a data-science professor once joked to me, “I bike past more billionaires on my way to work than there are in the entire Midwest.”This is an economy that runs on the assumption of potential—on the idea that tech founders will, through brute force, innovate their way into market domination and produce limitless riches. Without a product or revenue, Safe Superintelligence, an AI company with about 20 employees, was valued at $32 billion in 2025; it still hasn’t announced any tech and doesn’t plan to anytime soon.In this modern-day gold rush, the resource to mine is talent. And nowhere can you find more of it than at Stanford.Stanford and Silicon Valley are intertwined in a unique fashion.
Although the Ivy League has long been a pipeline to Wall Street and Washington, much of Silicon Valley was built on university land. The Stanford Research Park has been home to the headquarters of Hewlett-Packard, Facebook, and Theranos. Nowadays, roughly 150 companies, including Tesla and Google, have offices on campus. (In 2025, Stanford earned $320 million in rent.) The venture-capital firms are just up the hill, ready to fund new start-ups from promising students, most of whom then set up shop nearby, hiring almost exclusively other Stanford students and cycling some of the proceeds back to the university.
I took my first college programming course in the Nvidia auditorium, donated by Jensen Huang, the Stanford alum who started the world’s most valuable company. (The world’s second-most-valuable company, Alphabet, was also started by Stanford students.)For Silicon Valley investors, sorting out the students who can make it big from the wannabes has become a high-stakes competition. Nobody sees value in a “wantapreneur,” as one investor put it to me; they want to identify the “builders.” That’s the name applied to the tech acolytes who have what it takes, and also a title assumed by many pretenders.The college has large entrepreneurship clubs—the Association of Stanford Entrepreneurial Students and the Business Association of Stanford Entrepreneurial Students, known as ASES and BASES.
But joining won’t get you into the Stanford inside Stanford. Access to the spaces that actually matter is invite-only—determined less by technical skill than by who you know and by resumé