Every so often, a new entrepreneur asks me, “Are there any grants out there that can help me start my business?” It’s an honest question, and a revealing one. Because behind it sits a common assumption: that somewhere, someone is giving away money to help people like them get started in business.
The truth is more complicated. Yes, there are grants. Yes, billions of dollars move through the grant system every year. But almost none of it goes to startups or small businesses trying to get off the ground.
To understand why, you have to look at what grants actually are, where they come from, and, most importantly, why they exist.
Yuval Noah Harari makes an insightful point in his book Sapiens: for most of human history, curiosity didn’t drive innovation; self-interest did.
Scientists, explorers, and inventors didn’t wake up one morning and decide to chart the world or decode nature simply because it was fascinating. They did it because someone powerful, the crown, the church, or later, the state, paid them to.
That funding wasn’t charity. It was an investment, and more accurately, a kind of symbiosis. The funder provided the financial resources; the recipient supplied the insight or labor that served a larger goal. Both benefited, but neither could exist without the other. The recipient was free to explore, but only within the boundaries of the sponsor’s interest.
Captain Cook’s voyages are a perfect example. The British Admiralty was already sending ships to chart new territories for strategic and commercial reasons. For a relatively small additional cost, they could double the mission’s value by bringing along astronomers, naturalists, and cartographers, essentially the grant recipients of their day. Their scientific work wasn’t the purpose of the voyage; it was a leverage point that turned a single mission into a multi-purpose investment. The Admiralty got maps, trade routes, and territorial claims. The scientists got funding, access, and data they could never have gathered alone.
Charles Darwin’s famous voyage on HMS Beagle followed the same pattern. The Beagle was going to sea anyway, tasked with surveying South American coastlines for navigation and colonization. Darwin, like the naturalists on Cook’s ship, benefited from a grant-like arrangement: public funding layered onto an existing mission. His groundbreaking research occurred not because someone decided to fund science for its own sake, but because the government recognized the value in enhancing an ongoing expedition with a few well-placed scholars.
So, from the start, discovery was never a solo pursuit; it was a symbiotic and leveraged transaction between curiosity and authority. Knowledge was nurtured when it could amplify something already in motion. In essence, this was the early form of a grant: a gamble by the funder that solving a problem or exploring a theory could yield future value. Grants have always worked this way. They are designed to address an issue or create an opportunity that benefits the grantor, often with the hope of monetizing or leveraging the outcome in the future. It’s a calculated bet: the provider risks resources for potential strategic reward, while the recipient gains the means to build something valuable. That relationship, a partnership with conditions, became the seed of what we now call the grant economy.
From Empires to Economies
As empires declined and capitalism rose, private enterprise stepped in. Industrialists and financiers became the new patrons of progress.
The motive stayed the same—advantage—but the structure shifted. Governments no longer had to bankroll every idea. Now, corporations could fund innovation directly, as long as it promised a return on investment.
The East India Company, a quasi-governmental trading empire, was an early example: exploration and science funded in the service of commerce. Later came the industrial laboratories of the 19th and 20th centuries, such as Bell Labs, DuPont, and General Electric, where science served the interests of profit.
In this transition, curiosity merged with capital. The grant economy evolved into a partnership between governments/corporations, and markets. Governments continued to fund discoveries that served national interests. Corporations funded research that served shareholders.
Either way, the question behind every grant stayed the same: What’s in it for us?
What Grants Actually Are
A grant is not a gift. It’s a transaction where one side provides money and the other side produces something of value. The primary difference between a grant and an investment is that the return isn’t financial, but rather strategic.
Governments fund grants because they want:
Economic growth and jobs
National competitiveness
Social stability or public welfare
Political results they can show voters
Corporations and philanthropies fund grants because they want:
Innovation that aligns with their mission or product line
Data, insights, or technology that they can later monetize
Brand reputation and goodwill
Progress on social or environmental goals that matter to them
No one issues a grant just to be nice. They issue it to move the needle on a problem they’ve already defined.
The Two Economies: Grant vs. Market
This brings us to a distinction I often try to explain to clients: the grant economy and the market economy are very different.
The grant economy operates on defined problems. Funders have already decided what matters to them, such as climate resilience, workforce training, AI ethics, rural broadband, or public health, to mention a few. They’re looking for people or organizations who can help them solve those identified problems.
The market economy, on the other hand, operates on discovered opportunities. Entrepreneurs find unmet needs, create solutions, and exchange value directly with customers. The funding comes from revenue, investment, or debt, not public coffers.
Here’s the key difference:
In the grant economy, the problem is already chosen.
In the market economy, you get to choose the problem you solve.
That’s why most small businesses don’t fit the grant model. They aren’t designed to address the types of large-scale, policy-driven problems that governments and foundations typically concern themselves with. They’re built to meet the everyday needs of consumers or local businesses. While that’s valuable work, it’s not grant work.
Solving a Problem vs. Finding Money
There’s a mental shift that every entrepreneur must make early on. Are you in business to solve a problem, or are you in business to find money?
If your goal is to pursue grant funding, your focus narrows to the problems others want to solve. You must align the skills that you bring to the party with the pre-defined priorities of the funding organization. You adapt your ideas to fit someone else’s mission.
If your goal is to build a sustainable business, you’re in the opposite mindset. You find problems worth solving in the marketplace and create value that customers are willing to pay for. You define your own mission.
Both paths can be valid. But they’re not the same. One is directed innovation, driven by the priorities of a funding organization, while the other is organic innovation, guided by the entrepreneur’s own goals and market demand. The grant path always depends on alignment with the external funder’s agenda, whereas the market path relies on alignment with customer needs.
Most entrepreneurs who ask about grants aren’t thinking about that distinction. They’re hoping to fund their own idea. But grants never work that way. Grants fund solutions to other people’s problems, not fuel for your dream.
My Experience Inside the Grant Economy
Many years ago, one of my companies applied for and received a grant from the U.S. Department of Transportation. The agency had a clear problem: they needed a consistent, high-quality training program in highway hydrology to help engineers better understand how water flows around transportation infrastructure. What they didn’t have was the in-house expertise to create that kind of interactive courseware. That’s what we brought to the table.
The Department of Transportation funded us because we could solve a technical gap they couldn’t fill internally. We designed and delivered a program that met their immediate needs, standardized training that reduced flooding risks and maintenance costs across federal projects. But once the program was complete, our value didn’t end there.
Because we owned the underlying intellectual property (the course), we were free to adapt and commercialize the material beyond the scope of the grant. Municipalities, counties, and state agencies that weren’t under the Department’s purview also needed this kind of training for their local road projects. We were able to sell the same program to them, expanding the grant’s reach and impact.
That was the best kind of double-edged sword. The Department solved a problem that they lacked the capability to handle internally, and we gained a new product line that we could take to the market. It was a clear example of how a well-structured grant can serve both sides: solving a public problem while creating private opportunity.
The Real Purpose Behind Grants
Every grant has an underlying motive.
Governments issue them to stimulate sectors that serve public or political goals: renewable energy, public health, education, defense, AI, and workforce development, to name a few.
Corporations use them to outsource R&D, gather insights, or improve their public image.
Philanthropies issue them to move social indicators or influence systems.
Even though they look different on paper, they’re all tools of leverage. They allow the funder to extend their reach through others’ expertise.
That’s why grants come with strings attached: deliverables, reports, compliance requirements, and audits. The grantor wants to make sure the outcome aligns with their agenda.
So, when someone asks, “Are there grants to help me start my cleaning business?” or “Can I get a grant for my food truck?”, the honest answer is: “No,” unless your business directly supports a government, corporate, or philanthropic goal.
If your food truck hires at-risk youth or your cleaning company reduces environmental waste through innovation, maybe. But if you are just building a solid, profitable business, you’re in the market economy, not the grant economy.
When Grants Do Make Sense for Business
There are, of course, exceptions, times when a business genuinely fits a grantor’s objectives.
Technology innovation, workforce or rural development, environmental programs, and public-private partnerships can all qualify. However, notice what ties all of these together: they address a systemic problem that the grantor cares about. They are not about your business model; they are about the impact your business has on a larger challenge.
Grants Are Temporary Bridges, Not Business Models
Even when a business does receive a grant, it’s usually just the first step. A good grant doesn’t build dependence. It builds capacity.
In many cases, once a grant-funded idea proves viable, the expectation is that the private sector will take over and scale it. Governments de-risk the early stage, then step back and let capitalism do what it does best: commercialize and expand.
That’s exactly what happened with our hydrology training program. Once the public funding ended, we turned it into a market-driven offering. The grantor benefited twice: first from the direct solution, then from the ripple effect as our program spread through the private market.
But not all grants bridge opportunity in the same direction. When the government funds a project, the goal is often to push innovation outward, encouraging the recipient to extend the benefit into the private sector, where it can multiply its impact. That’s why many federally funded programs, like ours, are designed to be commercialized later. The idea is to create public value first, then economic value through diffusion.
Corporate grants, on the other hand, work in the opposite direction. They aim to pull innovation inward. When a company funds a university research lab or a private R&D initiative, the ultimate goal is typically ownership, transforming discoveries into patents, products, or proprietary technology that enhances their competitive edge. The university or lab benefits from the funding and academic recognition, but the corporation ultimately captures the commercial upside.
So, while both government and corporate grants are symbiotic by nature, the flow of value runs differently. Public grants seed innovation that spreads outward; corporate grants harvest innovation that consolidates inward. In both cases, the grant acts as a temporary bridge between ideas and markets, but the traffic moves in opposite directions.
That’s how grants are supposed to work. They bridge the gap between what’s socially necessary and what’s commercially possible.
But they’re not designed to fund a small business’s day-to-day operations. They’re designed to solve problems that are too large, too risky, or too slow to attract private investment.
The Misunderstanding Entrepreneurs Face
Most small business owners aren’t seeking grants because they aim to serve a national agenda or a corporate R&D strategy. They’re looking for a break, a way to reduce startup costs or cover early expenses.
Unfortunately, the grant system isn’t built for that. It’s built for policy outcomes and profit motives, not personal opportunity.
Government grants often aim to achieve policy goals, such as stimulating economic growth, enhancing education, preserving the environment, or enhancing national competitiveness. Corporate and philanthropic grants, by contrast, pursue strategic objectives that enhance brand value, expand innovation pipelines, or support social causes that align with their identity. Both types of grants are designed to solve problems that matter to the funder, not necessarily to fund the next local business.
Small business grants are rare for another reason: they rarely align with the strategic priorities of big players. When the government funds grants, it’s usually to correct a policy gap, such as supporting minority-owned businesses, rural development, veterans, or sustainability programs that serve the public good. Corporations and philanthropic foundations, on the other hand, fund grants to serve their brand, innovation, or social impact goals. They tend to back research institutions, universities, or nonprofits that can deliver measurable reach or reputational value. A single small business, no matter how worthy, usually doesn’t offer the scale, data, or visibility those funders want.
So, while policy-driven grants try to fill public gaps, corporate and philanthropic grants focus on strategic leverage. In both cases, small businesses simply fall outside the primary orbit of what the funder needs. Most small businesses simply don’t move the needle far enough to qualify. They may be vital to their communities, but not to national or corporate strategy.
And that’s the paradox: the smaller and more local your business is, the more it serves real people, but the less likely it is to qualify for a grant. Because grants follow macro goals, whether driven by public policy or private profit, not micro impact.
The Final Takeaway on Grants
Grants are one of humanity’s most powerful tools for progress; however, they’ve always been about leverage, not generosity. From imperial exploration to industrial research to today’s public/private partnerships, they exist because someone wants a specific outcome that benefits them and (ideally) society at large.
If your business happens to serve that mission, a grant might help you get there faster. But if you’re building something grounded in local value and customer relationships, your best funding will always come from the same place it has for centuries, the market economy. Because in the end, innovation and entrepreneurship may share a common root, but they grow in different soils.
Grants cultivate solutions to someone else’s problem, while businesses grow by solving their own problems.
Are grants really the right path for your business? Or is it time to build something the market will actually pay for?
