Chapter 2: The Drive to Create

What drives a visionary? Gero explores his roots, sharing how his father’s entrepreneurial spirit and his family’s resilience shaped his path. This chapter is a deep dive into the early passions that ignited the fire behind Signavio’s success.

www.linkedin.com/in/gerodecker/

Transcript

I never wanted to become an entrepreneur.

From early on, I knew about the life of an entrepreneur through my father and uncle, both of whom had dedicated themselves to their passion for innovation and technology. 

My father was a physicist, focused on laser technology, while my uncle worked on solar panel technology since the 1980s, long before the world fully grasped the importance of it. I grew up watching them both dive deep into their work, dedicating their lives to missions they felt were significant for the broader world, not just themselves. 

My mother was a teacher. Her job provided a steady income, and lifelong employment. She was the grounding force at home, balancing the risks and unpredictability of my father's entrepreneurial ventures. 

To all of them, work was more than a job you did during regular hours; it was a calling to create. This dedication they shared left a deep impression on me, and as I grew older, I began to understand the weight of pursuing work for its intrinsic value rather than for the rewards alone.

For my mother, the consistency of an academic career made sense. In Germany, being a teacher in a government position was one of the most secure jobs available, offering health benefits, and an attractive pension. To her, my father’s role as a university professor seemed to complement this stability perfectly - a respectable career that provided well for our family.

But my father saw things differently. He wanted more than just theoretical advancements in laser technology confined to a lab. He wanted to see his ideas come to life and bring them to market on his terms. He believed that by starting a company, he could make a greater impact.

My father’s journey taught me not only the potential of a life driven by purpose but also the tremendous costs that could come with the risks. Beginning his career in academia, he developed theories and methods that advanced the field. But, despite the intellectual freedom it offered, the academic environment soon felt constraining; he believed it kept his work from reaching people directly. He wanted to see how his lasers were actually used in industrial production, how his inventions allowed others to manufacture things that otherwise wouldn’t exist. He once told me that the true goal of science was to create something that could better society, but academia seemed too removed from real-world application. He wanted the satisfaction of seeing his ideas take form, something tangible and useful. His ultimate decision to leave his role and start his own company was, at its core, a leap toward realizing that vision.

Leaving a stable position to enter the uncertain world of entrepreneurship wasn’t an easy choice for my father. Initially he didn’t even share his decision with my mother. She was furious to learn that he had left his secure job behind, without even discussing that with her.

My father’s approach to business was never about building something simply for market value; it was about building teams and customer relationships on a strong foundation of trust, united by a critical mission. Creating products that mattered, that would endure and address a real need in the world, was therefore self-evident. He believed in business as a vehicle for purpose; creating a sustainable impact for everyone involved, driven by more than just commercial value.

Our family life was shaped in many ways by my father's entrepreneurial spirit. I am thankful to my mother who provided me with the safety to explore, fail, create, and dream. 

The tension was always there. My father's business ventures put financial strain on our family, showing me that while entrepreneurship can be inspiring, it comes with real risks. It taught me that ambition needs to be balanced with caution.

One of the hardest lessons came during the 2008 financial crisis when my father declared bankruptcy. The collapse of a major financing bank in Germany set off a chain of events that left his company unable to keep up with contracts and operations. Practically overnight, his main source of credit disappeared, and there were no alternatives to keep the business going. He had no choice but to shut down the company he had built for years.

One thing I remember most from this time was the lengths my father went to ensure the professional futures of his team were secured. Instead of focusing on himself first, he guided each member through this tough transition. He helped people find new opportunities and stood by them when they needed it most. I was young - sure - but I don’t remember him ever making a big deal about it. Putting the needs of others before his own, to ensure their lives can continue without major disruption and even help them land safely on their feet, showed me what true leadership was.

And his dedication didn’t end with his employees. He had made a promise to his customers that his products would be here to stay. Ensuring maintenance and continuous upgrades to the machines that his customers so critically relied on, was of utmost importance to him, well beyond the lifespan of his own company.

Bankruptcy was a hard blow that affected our entire family. My father had given everything to his business, only to see it come crashing down. But even in the face of such a major setback, he stayed resilient. That resilience became something I deeply admired.

He didn’t let the setback crush his spirit. Instead, he approached it with a determination to learn and move forward. 

Setbacks are part of the journey. 

Rather than letting the loss define him, my father used it as a chance to reflect on what he had learned, re-evaluate his goals, and figure out how to rebuild. His focus throughout, and what would become his legacy, was a commitment to sustaining the technology that would enable future evolution of the industry. His purpose wasn’t confined by the boundaries of his company. It transcended beyond and continued to live on, even after his business had stopped operating.

From a young age, I loved creating and building things. I started with Legos, spending hours constructing intricate designs, breaking them down, and rebuilding with new ideas to improve. As I got older, this passion grew into a fascination with architecture. I dreamed of designing spaces that were both functional and inspiring.

In my teenage years, I developed a strong interest in technology and worked on collaborative projects with my geeky friends. We enjoyed turning creative ideas into reality through software development. I became fascinated with fractal geometry, diving deep into the subject, and we even won a prestigious science award for our work. 

What was interesting to me was how simple algorithms could create intricate patterns. A small change in the initial conditions could lead to a completely different outcome, yet it all followed precise mathematical rules.

This concept of self-similarity, where parts reflect the whole, influenced how we built organizations and processes. There’s elegance in using simple rules to guide complex structures while staying adaptable. 

What struck me most about fractals was that each step focused purely on the task at hand. There was no grand plan, just each iteration building on the last. When facing a big challenge, thinking about the entire journey can feel overwhelming. But if you focus on the step in front of you and give it your best, the bigger picture comes together naturally. 

It’s a simple approach in business that delivers powerful results, just like in the fractals.

A memorable experience during high school was creating a 3D digital simulation of a museum designed by Zaha Hadid. Hadid was an architect I deeply admired, known for her bold, innovative, and futuristic designs. She was a super star, considered to be one of the leading architects in the world, now commissioned to build the Phaeno science center in Wolfsburg. Working on a project that brought one of her visionary works to life felt surreal. Her style pushed architectural boundaries, and having a chance to recreate it through software was an inspiring challenge.

Our team dedicated a huge amount of hours to making the digital model as accurate as possible. We worked late into the night, troubleshooting issues, refining details, and capturing every curve and angle as her design evolved. It was both demanding and rewarding, requiring total focus and pushing me beyond what I thought I was capable of. 

My drive came from a deep respect for Hadid’s work and a desire to turn her vision into an interactive experience others could explore. For the first time, I saw technology as more than a tool - it was a way to blend art and engineering into something tangible.

This project made me realize how powerful technology can be in bridging the gap between abstract ideas and real-world applications. It deepened my appreciation for architecture and design and highlighted the potential of using tech to make concepts come to life and have a lasting impact.

As I continued working on projects, I noticed I was always balancing creativity with practicality. I gravitated toward subjects like math and physics, where logic and problem-solving were key. These fields offered solid foundations and clear answers, which felt reliable for creating something meaningful. 

I had once seriously considered a career in law. It seemed practical, secure, and carried a sense of prestige that many around me valued. Encouraged by family and friends who saw it as a respectable path, I decided to attend a lecture at the local university in my hometown Braunschweig to get a sense of what it would entail. 

I’ll never forget sitting in that large auditorium, surrounded by hundreds of students, listening to the professor’s monotone discussion of legal procedures. It quickly became clear to me that this was not where I belonged. Instead of feeling engaged, I felt trapped, and each minute seemed to drag on endlessly.

Part of the way through the lecture, my attention drifted. Through a window, I noticed students in the next room engaged in lively discussions with their professor. Unlike the dull atmosphere I was in, that room was full of energy. Curious, I left the law lecture to see what was sparking all the excitement.

The lecture I walked into was on the fundamentals of computer science. The professor spoke passionately about the power of algorithms and the logical structure behind programming. The energy in the room was contagious. 

Students were exploring complex problems, debating solutions, and genuinely enjoying the process. Unlike law, which felt rigid and predefined, computer science seemed to offer a mix of logical precision and creative freedom. In that moment, I felt an immediate connection. This was a world where I could blend analytical thinking with innovation, and I knew I had found where I truly belonged.

That brief encounter shifted everything for me. I left that day knowing that law was not my path and that computer science had opened a door I couldn’t ignore.

Exploring a mix of practical and creative interests would shape my professional life profoundly. I excelled in technical subjects but also had a deep love for languages and literature. Studying in Paris was a pivotal experience, exposing me to art, culture, and new perspectives.

This blend of technical expertise and imagination would later define my approach to product design and business strategy, allowing me to seamlessly bridge functionality and desirability.

Reflecting on my father’s entrepreneurial journey, I began to see parallels between his values and my own. He was driven by the desire to create something meaningful, guided by a clear sense of mission rather than market trends or profitability. 

When I got a job offer from McKinsey, my mother was thrilled. To her, it symbolized a clear path forward. My father, however, saw it differently. To him, consulting was about surface-level insights, lacking the hands-on experience needed to build something real. He viewed it as a “contract with the devil,” believing that real impact came from working directly on the ground.

All of these early experiences instilled a strong sense of independence and self-direction. Long before entering the entrepreneurial world, I was driven to build, create, and solve problems that mattered. 

I was very privileged to have the upbringing that I did. Both my parents were academics, I was fortunate to attend one of the best universities in the country; I am white, male, and born in the Western world. I am fully aware of how these factors have likely contributed to my journey and the opportunities I’ve had along the way. But I also want to say that entrepreneurship is not reserved for any specific background or context. If you don’t fit into a set pattern of what you see around you, I hope you’ll still take the leap and try your luck. Building something meaningful is about vision, resilience, and belief in your ideas - and those qualities can be found within us all.

Becoming an entrepreneur wasn’t a sudden decision; it was the culmination of a lifetime of influences, lessons, and values focused on the love to create and making a meaningful impact. 

This foundation would guide me through the journey to come.