What Daniel Ek’s Spotify Exit Teaches Us About Founder Storytelling (And What He Should Have Done Differently)

Yesterday, Spotify founder Daniel Ek announced he’s stepping down as CEO after 20 years. The stock dropped 6%. Artists are leaving the platform. And yet, Ek’s internal letter to employees was a lesson in narrative control, for better or for worse.

Here’s what every founder needs to understand about this moment—because whether you’re running a $140 billion streaming giant or a scrappy startup, how you tell your story during pivotal moments can be the difference between being remembered as a visionary or being defined by what you left unsaid.

Ek’s announcement letter does a lot of things right.

He frames the transition as evolution, not exit. “This change simply matches titles to how we already operate,” he wrote. Translation: we’ve been running this way for years, I’m just making it official. That’s strategic storytelling. By positioning this as formalizing existing reality rather than a dramatic departure, he reduces uncertainty for employees, investors, and partners.

He anchors the story in proof points: Spotify just had its first full year of profitability. He hands off the reins from a position of strength, not weakness. The timing signals confidence, not crisis.

He names his successors clearly and celebrates them publicly. Gustav Söderström and Alex Norström aren’t placeholders—they’re co-presidents who have been running strategic development and operations since 2023. Ek gives them credibility before they even take the title.

And most importantly, he tells us what’s next for him personally. “I am often asked, ‘How do we build more Spotifys out of Europe?’ That’s why several years ago, I announced my intention to help create more of these supercompanies.” He’s not disappearing. He’s moving toward something, not away from something.

This is founder storytelling 101: control the narrative before someone else does.

But here’s where it gets interesting—and where Ek’s story becomes a cautionary tale.

Because while Ek was crafting his thoughtful transition letter, there’s a completely different narrative swirling around him. One that he’s been conspicuously silent on.

Over the summer, Ek’s venture capital firm Prima Materia invested more than $700 million into Helsing, a German startup that develops military AI and drone technology. Since then, artists have been pulling their music from Spotify in protest. First indie bands like King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard and Hotline TNT. Then Massive Attack—the first major label act to join the boycott. Then Grammy-nominated duo Sylvan Esso, who removed their entire discography the same morning Ek announced he was stepping down.

Their message? They don’t want their “music killing people.” They’re calling Spotify a “data-mining scam” that funnels artist earnings into weapons development.

And Ek? Radio silence on the CEO transition timing. No acknowledgment in his letter. No explanation of his investment strategy. No articulation of his values or vision for how technology companies should engage with defense.

The irony is brutal: a man who revolutionized how we listen to music is now learning what happens when you don’t tell your story before others tell it for you.

Here’s the thing about founder narrative: you don’t get to choose whether people tell stories about you. You only get to choose whether you are the one telling them.

Ek controlled the narrative of his CEO transition beautifully. But he’s losing control of the narrative around who he is and what he stands for—and that’s the narrative that will define his legacy.

Because in 2025, founders aren’t just CEOs. They’re the living embodiment of their companies’ values. Customers don’t just buy your product—they buy into who is building it and why. Employees don’t just want a paycheck—they want to work for leaders whose values they can stand behind. Investors don’t just bet on your business model—they bet on your judgment and integrity.

This is exactly what I wrote about in my piece on founder vulnerability: the most magnetic leaders aren’t the ones with all the answers. They’re the ones willing to share the messy middle, the questions still being figured out, the values they’re grappling with.

Ek could have used his transition letter—or any of the dozens of interviews he’s done this year—to address the Helsing investment head-on. He could have explained why he believes in defense tech. Or acknowledged the tension between supporting artists and investing in military AI. Or shared his thinking about founder responsibility in an era where every investment is scrutinized.

He could have been human. Instead, he stayed silent.

And now the narrative about Daniel Ek isn’t just “visionary founder stepping back after building a $140B company.” It’s also “controversial CEO whose defense investments drove artists off the platform.”

One of those narratives he controlled. The other is controlling him.

If you’re a founder, here are your takeaways:

1. Tell your story before others tell it for you. The moment you sense controversy, lean into it. Address it. Explain your thinking. Share your values. Silence creates a vacuum, and other people will fill it with their version of your story. Sure there is nuances in narratives where not breathing air into something helps it die, but those moments are becoming few and far between.

2. Your transition story matters as much as your origin story. How you exit (or evolve) is part of your legacy. Ek did this brilliantly in his employee letter. But a transition story can’t just be about logistics and succession planning—it has to include the why behind your next chapter, especially when that chapter involves controversial decisions.

3. Founder narrative isn’t just external—it’s internal. Your team, your investors, your customers—they’re all watching to see if your actions match your words. When there’s a values disconnect (or even the perception of one), you have to name it and own it.

4. The best time to clarify your values is before you need to defend them. If Ek had been vocal about his investment philosophy and his views on defense tech before the Helsing deal, the narrative would be different. He would have shaped expectations. Instead, he let the investment speak for itself—and artists interpreted it as a betrayal.

5. Strategic silence is sometimes the loudest statement you can make. Not addressing something is a narrative choice. And sometimes it’s the wrong one. Especially when the silence is interpreted as indifference or avoidance.

Daniel Ek’s CEO transition could be considered two separate case studies in narrative control. His letter was clear, confident, and strategic. He told employees, investors, and the market exactly what they needed to hear.

But his silence on the Helsing controversy is a case study in lost narrative. And it’s a reminder that in 2025, founder storytelling isn’t optional. Your customers, your team, and your partners aren’t just buying your product—they’re buying you. And if you don’t tell them who you are and what you stand for, they’ll decide for themselves.

The founders who will win in this era aren’t the ones who avoid controversy. They’re the ones who step into it with clarity, humanity, and conviction.

Because in a world where everyone sounds the same, being irreplaceable isn’t just about what you build. It’s about who you are when the spotlight is on you—and whether you have the courage to own your whole story, not just the easy parts.