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By Deep Cover Law and Daryaft & Co | 22 July 2026
Contracts · Venture Capital · Governance · Startups
Founders are often viewed through a simple lens of virtue and vice. In reality, however, they are people operating under the terms of agreements they often did not draft, sometimes did not fully read, and rarely had the bargaining power to amend.
This article, a collaboration between Deep Cover Law and Daryaft, looks at how standard contractual mechanisms shape the relationship between investors and founders in Indian venture deals, and how the fine print can quietly determine the choices a founder makes. These clauses are legitimate, widely used, and exist because capital is at risk, investors owe duties to their own stakeholders, and venture-backed companies need credible governance, discipline, and exit mechanisms. The question is not whether these protections should exist. It is how they should be designed and exercised so that they achieve their objectives without making candour, cooperation, or early disclosure commercially irrational.
At its core, this is an attempt to understand how rational, well-intentioned founders respond to incentives that were written into shareholders’ agreements (SHAs) and investment agreements years earlier, and rarely renegotiated.
To understand the current contractual landscape in India, it helps to understand the cycle that produced it.[1] [2]
2020–2021: The Bull Run. Investors competed to win deals, ceding control provisions and accepting founder-dominant board structures. India’s startup ecosystem raised roughly $50.5B between 2020 and 2021 (of which 2021 alone accounted for $38.9B), as global venture firms moved quickly to fill their portfolios with promising Indian companies. The implicit bargain was simple: grow fast, document later through founder-friendly investment contracts and minimal governance guardrails.
2022–2023: The Reckoning. BharatPe, GoMechanic, Zilingo, Trell, and Byju’s all surfaced governance failures within months of each other. Funding dropped from the 2021 peak of $38.9B to $24.4B in 2022 and $11B in 2023. Whether driven by localised contagion or an unforgiving macroeconomic climate marked by a depreciating rupee, investors retreated. A funding winter followed, and capital allocators returned to corporate governance, forensic diligence, and tighter contractual protection. Terms negotiated away in the bull market quietly returned to standard drafts.
2024–Present: Selective Capital and AI Inflection. India’s startup ecosystem raised approximately $23.2B between 2024 and 2025, and approximately $5.2B between January 2026 and June 2026. A new wave of exuberance, this time concentrated in artificial intelligence, has begun to loosen the purse strings for companies with credible AI narratives. Yet the contractual guardrails established during the funding winter have largely remained in place for non-AI deals. Outside the hottest AI deals, funding is increasingly shaped by stricter requirements for scale, profitability, and visible exit pathways.
Much like legislation, contractual drafting evolves in response to market mood, institutional memory, and the lived experience of the parties who negotiate it. The shift is not that contracts caused the failures of the previous cycle; startup failures and fraud predated the current generation of term sheets. Nor is the shift itself objectionable. After a period of under-protection, investors were entitled to seek clearer governance rights, stronger information flows, and more reliable exit routes. What has changed is the move from growth-first contracts to documents that spell out the consequences of failure. The sections that follow examine three pressure points: founder equity forfeiture, governance visibility, and exit rights.
For founders, the practical question is simple: when things go wrong, does the contract encourage early candour or make silence feel safer? The discussion below looks at that question through three common pressure points: what a founder may lose personally, what information the founder must share while the company is operating, and what happens when investors ultimately need an exit.
Founder shares are commonly subject to reverse vesting. Put simply, the founder’s pre-investment shares are treated like diamonds placed in a locked vault: the founder owns them, but regains full access only over time, usually by remaining with the company and meeting agreed milestones. A founder who exits as expected leaves as a Good Leaver and retains the value of those shares. If the separation is contentious, however, the founder may be treated as a Bad Leaver and lose substantial economic value, even in respect of shares they once regarded as fully theirs.
The Bad Leaver clause is the mechanism through which that loss is imposed. In its traditional form, it is aimed at genuine misconduct: fraud, gross negligence, criminal acts, material breach of duty, or clear violations of agreed restrictive covenants. Where that kind of conduct is established, the commercial logic is straightforward. An investor should not remain economically exposed to a founder who has demonstrably acted against the company’s interests, nor should that founder retain the full upside of the equity package. Properly drafted, Bad Leaver protection is therefore not anti-founder; it is a legitimate response to misconduct and a necessary protection for the company and its other investors.
The Determination Problem
The difficulty begins when a Bad Leaver definition drifts beyond genuine misconduct to capture ordinary business failure. A non-trivial number of first-cut drafts are over-broad in exactly this way: they refer to missed business plans, irreconcilable differences with the Board, or conduct considered materially detrimental to reputation, without sufficient thresholds, process, or causation.
Companies fail for many reasons, including market timing, capital availability, product-market fit, competition, regulation, hiring constraints, or macroeconomic conditions. In each case the economic consequence may be severe, but underperformance by itself is not wrongdoing, and the underlying trigger needs careful causation, materiality, and process before it can fairly justify forfeiture. A founder should not fear being pushed out empty-handed merely because the company was unsuccessful.
The concern sharpens where the same investor who benefits from a discounted share transfer also controls the process that determines whether the founder is a Bad Leaver. When one economically interested party effectively acts as sole judge, the clause begins to look less like a misconduct protection and more like a tool for forced forfeiture. This perception can shape behaviour. If a founder anticipates that ordinary underperformance, candid disclosure of business difficulty, or good-faith strategic disagreement might be recharacterised as grounds for Bad Leaver status, their instinct shifts from collaboration to self-protection at the very moment when investors need candour and cooperation the most.
The Solution
The drafting answer is therefore procedural as much as substantive. Bad Leaver triggers should be reserved for genuine cause, not for the mere fact that the business has underperformed or failed. Where performance-related language is used at all, it should be tied to objective, pre-agreed obligations within the founder’s control, supported by materiality thresholds, cure periods where appropriate, and a credible determination mechanism that does not allow one economically interested party to act as sole judge.
The objective is not to dilute investor remedies for real misconduct or serious founder fault. It is to preserve Bad Leaver protection for the cases it was designed for, while ensuring that honest disclosure, ordinary disagreement, and commercial failure are not treated as forfeiture events by another name.
Takeaway: Misconduct should have consequences, but mere disagreements or ordinary business failure should not become a reason to strip founder equity.
Governance rights exist to create early visibility. Veto rights require founders to seek investor consent before major decisions such as related-party transactions, significant capital expenditure, senior leadership changes, or cap table alterations. Information rights require regular, standardised reporting through financial statements, MIS dashboards, KPI updates, and access to books and records. Board composition and quorum clauses are intended to ensure that investors are present when important decisions are made.
These rights matter because institutional investors carry their own reporting obligations to LPs, investment committees, auditors, compliance teams, fund managers, and other stakeholders. Timely company-level information feeds portfolio monitoring, valuation, fund reporting and risk management. Properly structured, information and observer rights also allow investors to detect weak signals early and address operational drift collaboratively, before it becomes harder to address.
The Visibility Problem
The difficulty is that visibility can tip into surveillance. When ordinary decisions are treated as control events, the line between healthy transparency and stifling oversight blurs, and excessive oversight begins to paralyse daily operations. Rather than running the company, founders start managing board optics by curating reports, smoothing KPIs, and treating natural strategic friction as a threat to control or continuity. The result can be a defensive culture in which bad news is carefully framed rather than constructively shared.
A second, quieter issue is box-ticking. If information rights are drafted as mechanical checklists rather than decision-useful reporting obligations, founders may comply in form while defeating the purpose in substance. A board pack, MIS dashboard or KPI update that is incomplete, unexplained or prepared only to satisfy a contractual obligation may technically be “information”, but it creates no real visibility.
Underlying both problems is a mismatch of cadence. The issue is not whether investors should receive information; they should. The issue is whether the reporting rhythm matches the company’s stage, size and systems. Early-stage companies lack the large finance teams of mature enterprises and cannot produce identical outputs on identical timelines.
The Solution
The answer is calibration: rights specific enough to surface the right questions early, and proportionate enough that ordinary business friction does not feel like a threat to control, reputation or continuity. Two areas deserve particular attention in drafting:
Align timelines with operational capacity. Reporting frameworks should distinguish between recurring obligations, urgent exception updates, and ad hoc inspection rights. Where an information default is inadvertent or administrative, the agreement should usually provide notice and a reasonable cure period before harsher consequences follow. Persistent refusal, concealment or bad-faith non-compliance should remain fully actionable; ordinary delay or imperfect reporting should not be treated as a governance breach of the same character.
Prioritise reporting quality over checklist compliance. Drafting should focus not only on receiving documents, but on the usefulness, consistency and explanatory quality of what is provided. Defined reporting formats, agreed KPIs, variance explanations, and short management commentary can often do more for visibility than a long list of documents. The goal is reporting that informs a decision, not paperwork that merely discharges an obligation.
Calibrated this way, governance rights become an effective early-warning system, ensuring critical signals reach those with the incentive and authority to act. The purpose is not merely to secure investor consent on paper, but to build a functional reporting and decision-making cadence — one that brings unusual transactions, deteriorating metrics, or governance risks to light while they are still capable of being resolved. This is not an argument for weaker governance; it is an argument for governance that is usable, trusted, and decision-useful.
Takeaway: Investors need information, but information rights should produce useful visibility, not box-ticking reports or surveillance anxiety.
Every investment agreement contains an understanding about time. Investors are not permanent partners; they are capital allocators operating within fund cycles, LP commitments, and exit horizons. A founder is typically expected to help deliver a liquidity event, such as an IPO, strategic sale, new investor buyout, or acquisition, within a five-to-seven-year window. If that window closes without a qualifying exit, a majority investor bloc, often defined in the SHA at a 51%–75% threshold, may identify a buyer and compel one or more shareholders, including the founders, to sell on the same terms. Extensions may be possible with investor consent, but they are not guaranteed, and once the drag is activated the founder’s ability to veto the exit or negotiate separately is sharply limited.
Drag-along rights convert the investor’s need for liquidity from a commercial expectation into a contractual mechanism. While that mechanism is inherently compulsory — forcing fellow shareholders to sell their stakes — its mandatory nature is a legitimate response to the realities of private investing. Investors manage finite-life capital, buyers often want control or a clean cap table, and a single minority holdout can prevent an otherwise viable transaction from closing. In that sense, a drag-along right is a necessary part of the exit architecture in many venture deals.
The Practical Tension
The tension is not inherent in every drag. In many cases, a drag right simply enables a value-maximising sale that major stakeholders broadly support. It becomes sharper in compressed or stressed exits, where the exit period has expired, the valuation is modest, liquidation preferences — including seniority stacks, participating preferences, or high preference multiples — materially reduce the founder’s outcome, and the buyer still needs founder cooperation to preserve value.
That disconnect exposes a practical limit of the drag right: contractual leverage can compel a sale, but it cannot by itself secure commercial alignment. An investor can require a founder to sign a sale agreement, but compulsion cannot force genuine operational cooperation. Buying a founder-led business means buying continuity, institutional knowledge, and customer relationships, and a buyer typically needs the founder to remain highly motivated for 12 to 18 months post-closing. Forcing the signature through contractual mechanics does nothing to secure that essential, voluntary alignment.
The issue is not dishonesty by design; a founder who remains involved after closing still faces reputational, contractual, and operational consequences if the diligence narrative later proves false. The more realistic concern is short-term defensive presentation: in a pressured sale process, a founder with little economic upside may overemphasise wins, delay difficult disclosures, or treat real operational risks as issues for the buyer to verify later. That is why the risk sits in the gap between founder presentation and buyer diligence, not in the drag right alone.
The Solution
The purpose of a well-drafted drag right is not to eliminate investor exit paths, but to ensure that forcing an exit does not make founder cooperation entirely irrational. That means pairing the legal right with commercial balancing tools rather than relying on compulsion alone. Robust process protections — clear trigger thresholds, valuation discipline, reasonable notice periods, role-appropriate warranties, and a disciplined disclosure process — reduce avoidable friction. Just as importantly, economic alignment mechanisms such as transaction bonuses, equity carve-outs, or structured earn-outs give a founder with little or no residual upside a rational financial reason to safeguard the company’s value through closing and integration. That combination is more likely to deliver an exit that remains executable, credible, and value-preserving.
Takeaway: Drag rights are necessary, but a forced exit still needs founder cooperation, buyer diligence, and sensible process design to preserve value.
Investor-protective terms are not illegitimate. Capital is at risk, investors owe duties to their own stakeholders, and recent governance failures showed the cost of under-protection. A serious venture ecosystem needs credible misconduct remedies, meaningful information flows, and enforceable exit rights. The point is that protection designed without regard for its second-order effects on founder behaviour is incomplete and, in some configurations, self-defeating.
The most defensible contracts are not necessarily the most aggressive ones, nor are they the most founder-friendly ones. They are the ones whose drafters have asked, before each clause, what behaviour the clause encourages in the founder who will live under it for the next decade, and what protection the investor legitimately needs for the capital placed at risk. A Bad Leaver definition should not merely punish misconduct; it should distinguish genuine wrongdoing from commercial failure through credible triggers and a fair determination process. Governance rights should not merely increase investor control; they should create timely, decision-useful visibility without turning the relationship into surveillance. A drag-along right should not merely enable exit; it should preserve the founder’s incentive to cooperate in producing a valuable one.
The unfinished reckoning, then, is not about choosing between founder freedom and investor protection. That is a false choice. It is about recognising that contract design is behaviour design. The better question is not simply whether a clause protects capital, but whether it does so in a way that keeps candour, cooperation, and early disclosure commercially rational. The strongest investor protections are often those that remain enforceable while also preserving the conditions in which the business can be honestly managed.
Contracts do not, on their own, make founders honest or dishonest. They do, however, set the conditions under which honesty is rewarded, punished, or quietly avoided. That is a quieter point than the headlines about scandals, but it is the one most worth attending to.
Authors:
Chirag Narasimiah (Founder, Deep Cover Law) and Sulaxmi Rai (Founder, Daryaft)
With inputs from the Deep Cover Law team: Sreenivasan Narasimhan (Senior Consultant), Tarun Satya (Associate), and Jahnavi Sreevatsan (Associate)
This article is intended for general discussion, and does not constitute legal or forensic advice. It is not intended for solicitation. If you have views or questions, please write to us at reachout@deepcoverlaw.com and srai@daryaftandco.com.