In university, I attended a business school. It was good, with a decent reputation, nothing fancy enough to name drop. I picked it because I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to do after studying, and the skills seemed flexible enough to apply to all sorts of jobs. Worst case, maybe I would be able to start my own business.

Over a decade after graduating, I realize that my hunch was correct. What I learned in business school gave me a sense of agency. The skills I picked up along the way—in and outside of school—created the conditions for me to start my own business, which contributed to a sense of freedom. If I couldn’t find a job, I would be able to make one by helping customers solve their problems. Business school had set me up to pick myself.

Here’s how I’d describe what was useful about each foundational business skill to me:

Marketing: The skill of finding, serving, and keeping customers. One of my instructors told our class that a business always needs more customers. 

Ops: The skill of breaking a process down into first principles, and optimizing it.

Finance: The skill of making sure your business has the money it needs to survive and grow.

Accounting: The skill of assessing your business’s health, and making sure your business pays taxes and vendors on time.

HR: The skill of recruiting, hiring, and keeping your team members. You need this skill in order to grow your business.

In business school, me and my classmates would practice these skills. For example, our finance homework meant analyzing income statements and balance sheets. We would discuss what was happening as a class. It felt like assessing a business from first principles.

While this sounds sterile, it also depersonalizes businesses. There is nothing special about a business, no matter what its legacy. 

For example, as an author in the publishing industry, I can understand how publishers and agencies work. I’m still affected by the branding and polish of these businesses, and I can see beyond it. It’s not difficult to imagine what it would be like to work at these companies, or even to start one. So what if I didn’t need them, and I could just be my own publisher? (And that’s what I explored.) 

It’s curious how some other people who write on their blogs every day—such as Seth Godin, Niklas Göke, and Rohan Rajiv—all studied some version of a business school. So did Paul Millerd, who independently published his books.

You can always pick yourself. While business school may have helped me—and can be useful to you, too—it’s not a prerequisite.