The practice, in plain terms

Three things, installed and run beside you until your team runs them without me. What you're buying is capacity: a company that runs without heroics. What's left on your plate afterward is the judgment only you have, and more room for it.

What gets installed, what good looks like, what stays yours

1. The operating map

One page: every area's now, next, goal, and stretch, one accountable owner per row, scored on evidence. This is the artifact I ran my own company on, the one place the whole company is visible at once, and the place the whole system either becomes real or becomes theater. Behind each row I design the owner slot itself: the decision rights that give that owner real authority, not just the name in the box.

Yours: the strategy, and your executives' ownership of their rows.

2. The operating cadence

The weekly executive meeting that runs off that map and a live scorecard, plus a monthly review and quarterly planning that ends in commitments. Agents keep the scorecard and reporting maintained from your real systems, so the cadence doesn't die of paperwork the way most do. I run the first sessions live; your ops lead takes it over, and the transfer gate is three solo weeks. No ops lead yet? That's common under 50 people, and defining or hiring that seat is part of the work.

Yours: every decision. The cadence surfaces them; it never makes them.

3. The forward plan, and the no-surprises board rhythm

The forward plan is the source the practice is built on: the model you last built for a raise or a budget, turned into a living instrument, cash and runway on demand, that the map, the goals, and the board materials all render off, so they agree by construction instead of being reconciled by hand at midnight. The pack and the update render from it on their own rhythms, but the documents are the visible five percent. The strategy is no surprises: bad news staged early, on your terms; a rhythm that holds in the bad months too; a board that trusts your numbers because it watches the same ones you do. The judgment about what to say, and preparing your team to walk the board through their own sections, is the work.

Yours: the relationship, and your executives' voices in the room.

What I sell, and what it costs

Both run the same arc underneath: start with an honest picture of the company, put the forward plan under it, install the cadence that keeps goals owned by the people who set them, hold the line in the room week over week, and leave on a written gate.

The teardown, $3,500 fixed, one week. The artifact your company argues about most (the operating map, the last board pack, the quarter you'd rather not reopen, or whatever the real one is) rebuilt, annotated, returned with the system that keeps it that way. If board materials are the pain, the week is a cross-read: your last two decks and every investor note between them, read side by side the way your sharpest director reads them, so the only surprises at the next meeting are the ones you stage. It can end with "you don't need me yet"; that verdict is part of what you're paying for. The fee credits toward the install, so the week is a deposit, not a detour.
The full install, $30,000 fixed, about twelve weeks. Cadence, map, and board and investor materials together. The systems go in over the first weeks; then I stay in the room, week over week, until they hold without me. Your ops lead takes it over through a transfer gate of three solo weeks. If you only need one of the three systems, the same engagement downshifts to a single-system install, $12,000 fixed.
Sustain, optional, three to twelve months. After a passed exit gate, some companies keep a light beat: a metered session where the quarterly retrospective lives and the system gets audited for drift. Priced per session when we scope it, never a standing retainer. The install stands on its own either way.

Every engagement carries written exit criteria from day one: the system is installed, your team runs it, I step out. If you want me longer, that's a new decision, not a drift. I hold one intensive install at a time, and carry at most three or four companies past that intensive stage at once. That cap is what keeps me in your room.

Agents produce. I'm the executive in the loop.

What I bring is an operating system of agents and skills, in a private repository your company owns, that runs with your own AI. What you're buying is the executive in the loop on top of it: decades of founder-CEO work, applied to everything the agents draft.

Who the client is, and what stays private

The founder is the client, full stop. If an investor sent you here, they already heard the terms: no back channel, no report on you dressed up as help. What they get is a company whose numbers they can finally trust. Everything I see stays inside the engagement, each client's work lives in its own isolated system, and I don't take a board seat while I'm embedded. Where AI-drafted work touches liability, compliance, legal, audit, I review it as the accountable human and route what needs a licensed professional to one. Drafting is cheap; knowing which parts need a CPA or an attorney is the skill.

Who this is not for

Turnarounds where payroll is at risk. Pure line-ops mandates: I govern the executive layer, I don't run departments (a build mandate is the one deliberate exception, and it takes my deep slot: see Special Projects). Companies under ~20 people with no forcing event: you likely need distribution, not process, and I'll say so. Anyone who wants a report instead of a system. Anyone shopping for a platform: everyone has a platform. I bring agents and skills in a private repository you own, and what you're buying is me in the loop, not a subscription. And engagements where a board wants a report on its CEO dressed up as help.

If you're 30 to 60 people, still founder-run, and the meetings are turning to theater: that's the middle of who this is for, not the edge. A founder-run company funded by its own cash flow outgrows the way it's run in exactly the same ways a venture-backed one does; that door is open too.

Tell me what's outgrowing you.

Start with a teardown →

Or email ken@foxheft.com