Why Romanian Talent Underprices Itself

I only applied to Harvard because two boys a year ahead of me had gotten in. I want to be honest about that. It wasn’t a belief that I belonged there. It was that they’d proved it was possible for someone from my school, and I could copy the move. Left to my own judgment I’d have applied somewhere “realistic” and felt good about it.

I still don’t know what I would have done without those two. I think about it more than I’d like.

That reflex, aim a bit below where you’d land and then feel relieved, is the most Romanian thing about me. And after nine years of watching it in other people’s children I’ve stopped calling it modesty. It’s a pricing error. We sell ourselves at a discount and the buyer never asked for one.

Three places it shows up

What we apply for. Every autumn I sit with a student whose profile would be competitive at Oxford or ETH and whose plan is a mid-ranked Dutch university, “to be safe.” Nothing wrong with the Dutch university. Watch the reasoning, though. They didn’t weigh both and prefer one. The better one never got weighed. It was pre-rejected, quietly, probably years earlier. I suspect a decent fraction of the Romanian intake at those schools is kids who were afraid to try for something harder. Unfair to say, maybe. I’ll say it anyway.

What we ask for. In finance in the US I watched colleagues from other countries negotiate — salary, title, the desk by the window — as if it were the obvious thing to do. It is the obvious thing to do. I didn’t, for years. I took what was offered and said thank you, and thought of that as good manners. Since coming back I’ve seen the same in Romanian developers, designers, mentors: they quote a rate and then apologize for it in the same breath.

What we build. When I got back in 2017 investors asked me, not unkindly, “how can you leave America for Romania?” The assumption underneath was that Romania was a step down. What bothers me in hindsight is that I half agreed with them. I built the first version of Upgrade as if the ceiling were low. Small cohorts, Bucharest only, modest prices. It took years to notice the ceiling was mine.

Where it comes from

A school system that grades correctness and punishes boldness. Twelve years of being rewarded for the right answer and marked down for the wrong one, and you get adults who won’t say anything until they’re sure. Trouble is, ambition is entirely made of saying things before you’re sure. Applying, pitching, asking for the number. All of it is speaking under uncertainty. We were trained out of it, carefully, by people who meant well.

A culture that polices standing out. Nu ieși în evidență. Every Romanian has heard it, usually from someone who loves them. It came from a real place; for decades standing out was dangerous. The danger passed. The habit didn’t. Now it’s a tax we collect from each other. A sixteen-year-old says “I’m thinking about Cambridge” and the first response is și ce, ești mai bun ca noi? — and that’s from family.

And a bad reference class. We compare ourselves to the people around us, and around us is a country that’s spent thirty years being told it’s behind. So a Romanian who is, globally, at the 99th percentile feels average, because everyone he knows is also at the 99th percentile and also feels average. Meanwhile the actual market — the universities, the companies, the investors — looks at the same person and sees a bargain.

Why I’m sure it’s a pricing problem and not a talent problem

Romania produces an absurd number of strong mathematicians and engineers for a country this size. Look at any olympiad table. Romanians run teams at every big tech company you can name. And when our students actually apply to the top, they get in at rates that surprise everyone except the people who’ve watched them work.

None of that fits “not good enough.” All of it fits “asking for too little.” The supply is there. The ask is low.

How you stop

I don’t believe in confidence workshops. Confidence is what you have after, not before. You price yourself by the last thing you asked for and got. So the fix is boring and mechanical: ask for slightly more than is comfortable, repeatedly, until the new number feels normal.

For a student, the reach school goes on the list and gets a real application, not a token one.

For someone starting out, say the number first, then stop talking. It’s physically hard. Do it anyway.

For a founder, build for the market you’re actually in, which is the world, not the one your relatives think you’re in.

And for everyone: catch the reflex in other people, because they can’t see it themselves. When a kid tells you they want to apply to MIT, the right answer is boring. Not “are you sure?” Not “that’s very ambitious.” Just: okay, what’s the plan.

Two people a year ahead of me set a price I could copy. Most Romanian kids don’t get that. Be the two people.