The Sunshine Test: When Trust Becomes the Blind Spot

Prateek Khanna
4 days ago
3 min read

There is a principle I live by today—one that defines how I build, partner, and lead.

I call it the Sunshine Test.

If every decision, every document, every transaction were placed under open sunlight—would it still stand without discomfort?

This principle was not learned in classrooms or boardrooms.It was learned the hard way.

Eight Years of Building, One Unequal Blind Spot

In my early years, I spent eight long years helping build a company—from the ground up into something that, at one point, became a force to reckon with.

There were four founders.

Two of them were from IIT—analytical, questioning, trained to challenge assumptions.

Then there was me (Probably the Paranoid One—because I believe that only the paranoid survive in the long run, even at an organisational level).

And the fourth founder—the one handling finances.

He was 10–15 years older, had already built and sold a company (his shares), and unlike the others, shared the same alma mater with me—a paramilitary-style institution where discipline, brotherhood, loyalty, and trust are ingrained deeply (Guessing it would be easy)

That shared background mattered more than I realised.

It made me question less.

Not because I was careless—but because I believed shared values ensured shared intent.

When Brotherhood Overrides Governance

The finance function was never fully transparent to all founders. Visibility was partial. Information was selective.

The IIT founders questioned more.They were trained to.

I didn’t—enough.

Because shared history felt like a safety net. Because I believed honour didn’t need verification. Because I confused personal trust with institutional governance.

That was my mistake.

And looking back today, I can say this clearly:

At an organisational level, we failed the Sunshine Test.

Not because everyone or anyone was dishonest—but because transparency was absent where it mattered most.

The Moment That Shattered Illusions

When I chose to exit, reality hit hard.

My shares—earned as a co-founder—were transferred only after an intense fight (Not physical one, I don't endorse that, but it could have been, ha ha ha), just before my exit.

It was not automatic. It was not dignified.It was not what trust should look like.

What hurt even more was this:

Another co-founder, who exited four years earlier, has still not had his shares transferred.

And yet, life moved on.

He went on to become a founding member of a new venture that later became a billion-dollar company (They would be a force to reckon with in coming years).

Success advanced. Closure did not.

That contrast taught me something permanent:

Personal success does not correct unresolved injustice. Silence does not equal fairness.

The Stand I Took—Late, But Defining

I should have taken a stand earlier. I should have demanded visibility—not confrontation, not control—just clarity.

But when I finally did, it was too late to save the organisation I once believed in.

It was not too late, however, to save my values.

Drawing the Line for Life

From that moment on, I made a promise to myself:

Anything I build in the future will pass the Sunshine Test—without exception.

Not because I distrust people.But because trust without transparency is fragile.

Shared alma mater does not replace governance.Experience does not replace accountability.Success does not erase unfinished ethics.

Building Under Open Skies

Every organisation I have built or helped build since then is grounded in this one principle:

No shadows. No selective visibility. No assumptions based on history.

Everything must survive daylight.

Because I now believe this with certainty:

Sunlight doesn’t destroy strong organisations.It only exposes the weak foundations early—if we’re willing to look.

Why I Am Writing This Today

I am writing this because I now see young DMET entrepreneurs making the same mistakes I once made.

Trusting relationships more than systems.Choosing speed over structure.Avoiding hard questions in the name of harmony.

In the short term, it feels fine.

Shortcuts feel efficient.Opacity feels convenient.Silence feels safe.

But organisations are not built for the short term.

They are meant to outlive founders, egos, exits, and individual journeys.

And anything that is meant to last must be built to survive sunlight.

Because you may get away with hiding things.You may feel safe taking shortcuts.You may grow fast without structure.

But time exposes everything.

Organisations that last are not the ones that grow the fastest. They are the ones that are built the cleanest.

With transparency.With governance.With visibility.With courage to ask uncomfortable questions early.