After reinventing hospitality a decade ago, it now needs to quickly expand to support its $31 billion valuation before an expected IPO
Ten-figure troika: From left, Airbnb’s billionaire co-founders Brian Chesky, Joe Gebbia and Nathan Blecharczyk photographed at their San Francisco headquarters
Image: Jamel Toppin for Forbes
For a full 32 seconds, the notoriously fidgety Brian Chesky sits still. Planted under a fake tree in a bespoke conference room at Airbnb’s headquarters in San Francisco, the 37-year-old CEO is intently focussed on the iPhone in his hands. It’s playing a marketing video showing goats mingling with guests during an Airbnb Experience at a Northern California animal sanctuary, offered as part of the company’s two-year old tour guide business. A sheltie named Osso (short for Ossobuco) sits under the conference table licking the billionaire’s black sneakers. As the sound of the last bleat fades, Chesky seems moved. “Wow,” he says to the eight employees closely watching his reaction. He releases a deep breath. “I feel something.”
Maybe this is progress, a return to the magical feeling Chesky wants Airbnb guests to feel. Airbnb became great by offering unique, affordable accommodations in a cookie-cutter world. And, in the decade since its founding, it has ridden a generational change in social attitudes—with digital natives suddenly becoming comfortable accepting rides from strangers, swiping right for hookups and sleeping in spare bedrooms—to a $31 billion valuation, raising over $3 billion in outside money. Along the way, Brian Chesky and his two co-founders, Joe Gebbia and Nathan Blecharczyk, have each accumulated a $3.7 billion fortune from their Airbnb shares, and the startup they built has joined the rarefied group of companies—Google, Xerox, Uber—whose names have become verbs.
But with all that money comes a unique challenge. Call it the curse of the unicorn: How can Airbnb justify a valuation that is higher than Expedia, Hilton or American Airlines? Although Airbnb has a $3 billion war chest, it earned just $100 million last year on a cash flow basis from $2.6 billion in revenues, or about 4 percent. (Its larger, publicly traded competitors have margins of about 27 percent). How can Airbnb keep growing—amid sharpening competition and increasing regulatory scrutiny—and deliver the 10x return their venture capitalists demand? Making it all the more pressing is the prospect of an IPO, said to be on track for as early as mid-2019.
Airbnb has joined the rarefied group of companies—Google, Xerox, Uber—whose names have become verbs[/bq]
It’s particularly difficult for Airbnb, because unlike, say Google, which has revolutionised everything from search to phones to cars, up to now Airbnb has largely been a one-trick pony. It connects people who have vacant homes and apartments with people wanting to rent them. That’s it. Hence Airbnb’s newfound interest in selling guided tours with Experiences or helping with restaurant reservations through its partnership with Resy.
Compounding matters is a weak executive team that lacks a chief financial officer and a chief marketing officer less than a year from its goal of being IPO-ready. Then there’s Chesky, a CEO who—despite accepting billions from investors—is not putting their interests at the front of the line.
“The scorecard for companies has changed,” Chesky says. “Before, it was really about financial metrics, and I think now companies are realising we have a greater responsibility to society to make sure life is great.”
The plan, such as it is: Drawing loosely on Amazon for inspiration, Chesky wants Airbnb to be an everything store, but for travellers. Chesky hopes a billion people a year will use Airbnb by 2028, a giant leap up from the total of 400 million who have used the service during its first ten years (roughly 100 million people have stayed in an Airbnb so far this year). Following the Bezos blueprint, he’s rewiring Airbnb’s technology so that it can quickly scale up hundreds of businesses and categories faster than ever before.
“At some point, the law of large numbers means that you just need to plant more seeds,” Chesky says.
But Chesky also worries that runaway growth could imperil Airbnb’s uniqueness. As a result, he is trying to position Airbnb as what he likes to call a “21st Century Company”, one that’s beholden not only to financial results but also to other stakeholders like guests, hosts, employees and cities. Chesky views this not as touchy-feely corporate-culture stuff but as survival: Decision-making must be driven by what’s best for everyone in Airbnb’s community. Only then will his investors thrive. “The public is not going to put up with companies in the next 50 years that are only kind of myopically, narrowly focusing on the very short term or just a few parties,” Chesky says.
The result is tension between Airbnb’s need to scale rapidly and Chesky’s desire to take it slow and build something that’s responsible and sustainable. “The reality is that you’re not going to be around long-term unless you’re able to grow and generate attractive economics,” says Kenneth Chenault, the former American Express CEO and an Airbnb board member. “You’re also not going to be around long-term if your brand is not meaningful in people’s lives.”
Knock twice on the bookcase and a hologram of Joe Gebbia appears. It’s a parlour trick of the real Gebbia, the 37-year-old Airbnb co-founder, as he settles into a conference room that is a mock-up of his old apartment, half a mile northwest of the company’s San Francisco headquarters. Behind him, the ghost version of Gebbia drones on: “You’re standing on the exact spot where we put the first three air beds . . .”
It’s a founding story that has achieved mythical status in Silicon Valley and remains at the core of Airbnb’s identity. Gebbia and Chesky, graduates of the Rhode Island School of Design, were short on rent, so they charged people visiting San Francisco for a design conference to sleep on an air mattress on their floor in 2007. They tapped a third friend, Nathan Blecharzyck, to help them build a website.
Originally called Air Bed and Breakfast, the startup wasn’t an overnight success. After 12 months, it was doing only 10 or 20 reservations a day. But the trio were already looking for outside money: In June 2018 they sought introductions to seven angel investors and were rewarded with five rejections and two ignored emails. The ask? $150,000 for 10 percent of the company, a position that, undiluted, would be worth over $3 billion today. Broke, the founders collected credit cards like baseball cards, organising the maxed-out plastic in binders. The biggest problem: Lack of trust. People weren’t comfortable inviting strangers they met on the internet to stay in their homes.
“It was a real battle to figure out how can you cross this bias that was working against us, that strangers equal danger,” Gebbia says. “It’s something that we’ve all been taught since we were kids.”
(This story appears in the 23 November, 2018 issue of Forbes India. To visit our Archives, click here.)