Why France's Best and Brightest Are Building America's Software

Ten years ago, I stood at Charles de Gaulle Airport with two suitcases and about $3,000 to my name. I was leaving behind four master's degrees from France's most prestigious schools, a career working alongside President Sarkozy, and a country that produces the world's best cheese, wine, and soccer players.

I wasn't alone. That same year, dozens of French entrepreneurs made the same journey, joining the 400-500 French companies already operating in Silicon Valley. We weren't economic refugees—we were ambitious builders who realized a harsh truth: If you want to build world-changing software, France isn't where you do it.

Today, as I run a successful contract management company from Austin, I watch this exodus continue. Just last quarter, French startups raised €1.4 billion—a 19% decline from the previous year. Meanwhile, U.S. startups raised 154% more, driven by AI giants like OpenAI and Anthropic. The funding gap isn't just a statistic; it's a structural disadvantage that drives France's brightest minds across the Atlantic.

The Paradox of French Innovation

Here's what most people don't understand: France produces exceptional technical talent. Our grandes écoles—École Polytechnique, CentraleSupélec, Mines ParisTech—are engineering powerhouses. French mathematicians and engineers are among the world's best. We invented the word "entrepreneur," for God's sake.

But we've created a system that actively punishes entrepreneurship.

In France, failure isn't a learning experience—it's a scarlet letter. When I was growing up, the cultural message was clear: Get into a grande école, join a large corporation or the government, and you're set for life. Starting a company? That was for people who couldn't get "real" jobs.

I witnessed this firsthand at Sciences Po, France's equivalent of Harvard for political science. When I told professors I was interested in building technology companies, they looked at me like I'd announced plans to join the circus. The school that educated every French president couldn't comprehend why someone would choose entrepreneurship over a prestigious corporate position.

Why California Public Pensions Matter More Than You Think

Let me share something that crystallized the funding gap for me. California's public employee pension fund, CalPERS, has $531 billion under management. In just one quarter last year, they invested $12 billion in venture capital. Since 2023, they've committed $1.6 billion to a single fund—Andreessen Horowitz.

France's entire startup ecosystem raised €1.4 billion in Q1 2025. California's teacher pension fund could fund that twice over without blinking.

This isn't just about money—it's about mindset. American pension funds bet on innovation. French institutions bet on stability. When your country's largest pools of capital won't touch startups, you create a self-fulfilling prophecy of risk aversion.

The Hidden Cost of Regulation

But funding is only part of the story. The real killer is the regulatory burden.

When I worked for France's second-largest telecom company, I saw enterprise bureaucracy at its worst. Those thousand vendor contracts I had to review? Half the complexity came from French regulations that required specific clauses, certifications, and compliance procedures that added zero value to the business relationship.

Starting Concord in France would have meant navigating a maze of labor laws that make it nearly impossible to fire underperformers, tax structures that punish success, and regulations that assume every business decision is an attempt to cheat the system. We would have spent more time on contract compliance audits for regulatory requirements than on building features customers actually wanted.

In America, I could incorporate in Delaware in 24 hours and start building immediately. In France, the process would have taken months and required multiple trips to various administrative offices—each with their own arcane requirements.

The Brain Drain Accelerates

The numbers tell a stark story. There are now more French engineers in Silicon Valley than in any French city except Paris. Companies like Criteo, DataDog, and countless others were founded by French entrepreneurs who realized their homeland wouldn't let them build at scale.

What's particularly tragic is that France has everything else: world-class engineers, a culture that values aesthetics and user experience (very "Jobsian," as one French entrepreneur told me), and a government that claims to support innovation. President Macron talks about making France a "startup nation," but talk is cheap when your best builders are booking one-way tickets to San Francisco.

The irony isn't lost on me. France gave Silicon Valley one of its most famous executives—Jean-Louis Gassée, who worked directly with Steve Jobs at Apple. We know how to build great products. We just can't do it at home.

What France Gets Wrong About Failure

The fundamental difference between French and American entrepreneurship comes down to how we view failure. In Silicon Valley, failure is a badge of honor—proof you've tried something ambitious. In France, it's career suicide.

When I dropped out of high school at 17 due to family issues, I thought my life was over. In France, your educational pedigree determines your trajectory. I had to claw my way back through night classes and eventually into Sciences Po at 25—ancient by French standards.

In America? Nobody cared about my non-traditional path. They cared about what I was building. That's why despite having degrees from France's top schools, I knew I had to leave. The credentials that opened doors in France meant nothing here—and that was liberating.

The Next Wave

The latest generation of French entrepreneurs is even more international than mine. They're not waiting to establish themselves in France first; they're going straight to the U.S. after graduation. They're building SaaS contract management platforms, AI companies, and developer tools—but they're doing it from Austin, New York, and San Francisco, not Paris or Lyon.

This isn't just France's loss; it's a warning for any country that thinks it can compete in the global tech economy while maintaining 20th-century regulations and attitudes. Talent is mobile. Capital is mobile. The only thing that isn't mobile is the bureaucracy that drives both away.

As I write this from my office in Austin, I'm proud of what we've built at Concord. We've made contract management accessible to thousands of SMBs who don't need complex enterprise solutions. But I can't help but wonder what might have been possible if France's best and brightest could build these companies at home.

Until France stops punishing failure, reduces regulatory burden, and convinces its institutions to bet on innovation over stability, the exodus will continue. The next French unicorn will probably be built in America—by someone who, like me, realized that sometimes the best way to honor your roots is to plant them somewhere else.

The tragedy isn't that we leave. It's that we have to.

Matt Lhoumeau is the co-founder and CEO of Concord, a contract management platform used by over 1,500 companies worldwide. Before founding Concord, Matt worked with Nicholas Sarkozy during the 2007 French presidential campaign and later for a major telecom company, where his frustration with manual contract management inspired him to transform how businesses handle agreements.