Paolo, what did the reactions from your social environment following the bankruptcy of Noostech mean to you?

The failure of Noostech was one of those life-defining moments. It was raw, humbling, and brutally clarifying. You know, you go into something like that with all the belief in the world, thinking you're building something that’s going to reshape the landscape. When it collapses, especially after putting so much of yourself into it, you’re forced to look at not only the business but also at the people around you—your social environment—and their reactions tell you everything about who they are and, more importantly, who you are.

When Noostech went down, I saw two things happen. First, the fair-weather friends and allies started to disappear. People who were in the circle, hyping me up when things were on the rise, suddenly went quiet. It’s a reality check—failure reveals who’s really in your corner and who was there for the ride when things were good. This might sound harsh, but in that failure, you see who was just feeding off the success and who actually believes in you when the walls come crumbling down. It’s an eye-opener, and though painful, it’s one of the great gifts of failure—it strips away the illusions.

But on the flip side, something incredible happens. The people who truly matter, who believe in you as a person, not just your success, step forward in ways you don’t expect. Those who value you for your ideas, your vision, and your resilience, not just the results, become crystal clear in those moments. Their reactions weren’t about pity, but about support, about pushing me to see beyond the collapse of Noostech and into what I could build next. The reaction of those who stuck around wasn’t, “What happened to your company?” It was more like, “What’s next? How do you take this and move forward?”

This social environment—those reactions to failure—made me realize that success attracts noise, but failure reveals truth. It’s easy to get caught up in the social validation that comes with success, but when it’s gone, you’re left with authenticity. The people who stuck with me helped me see that Noostech’s failure wasn’t the end, but a pivot point, a launchpad for something bigger. And the ones who walked away? They showed me that they weren’t aligned with my deeper values anyway.

What was really transformative for me was how my internal social environment changed—the way I saw myself in relation to others. I realized that the external validation I had once craved was irrelevant. The failure made me focus on the voices that actually mattered: my own and the ones from those who believed in the long-term vision, not just the short-term success. That shift from seeking validation through success to finding strength in failure, in resilience, is where the real growth came from.

So, the reactions of my surrounding environment, while painful at times, were a blessing in disguise. They helped me filter out the noise and focus on the people and values that truly aligned with my vision. The failure of Noostech wasn’t just a business failure—it was a personal awakening. It taught me to stop relying on the external markers of success and start building from a place of authenticity and true alignment.

In the end, the failure showed me that the social landscape around you isn’t defined by success—it’s defined by how people, and you yourself, show up when everything falls apart.