World’s richest and largest student startup contest now bigger than ever

Forty-two teams hailing from some of the world’s top universities will vie for more than $1.5 million in prizes at the 19th annual Rice Business Plan Competition (RBPC) April 4-6 at Rice University’s Jones Graduate School of Business. The RBPC is the richest and largest startup business competition in the world.

For a fourth year, teams will compete for the People’s Choice Competition, which challenges the spirit of each university. Team members, fellow students, alumni, family and friends can vote for their favorite team via a Facebook survey beginning at noon March 1. 

The teams for this year’s competition were chosen from more than 300 applicants to compete in four categories: life sciences/medical devices/digital health; digital/information technology/mobile; energy/clean technology/sustainability; and other innovations/investment opportunity.

Select members of the entrepreneurship and investment community reviewed all applications. At the competition, a cohort of 275 judges will decide which company represents the best investment opportunity.

More than 210 former competitors have successfully launched their ventures and are still in business today, including 25 startups that have been acquired. Past competitors have raised over $2.2 billion in capital and created more than 3,000 new jobs.

“The true measure of success for the Rice Business Plan Competition is the number of teams that launch, raise funding and go on to succeed in their business,” said Brad Burke, managing director of the Rice Alliance for Technology and Entrepreneurship at Rice University, which hosts the event. “The competition has served as the launch pad for a great number of successful entrepreneurial ventures, and the success rate far exceeds the national average.”

Top prizes in 2019 are expected to be similar to last year, including the $350,000 Investment Grand Prize from The GOOSE Society of Texas; the $100,000 OWL Investment Prize; the $100,000 Houston Angel Network (HAN) Investment Prize; the $100,000 TiE Investment Prize; and the $50,000 NASA Space Exploration Innovation Award.

Cisco is again offering the largest cash prize at the competition. The $100,000 Cisco Global Problem Solver prize aims to recognize entrepreneurs who promote and accelerate the adoption of breakthrough technologies, products and services that capture the value of technological innovation to society. Special consideration will be given to businesses that also benefit the environment.

The second-place investment prize has increased to $125,000 in 2019. Finger Interests, Anderson Family Fund and Greg Novak of Novak Druce have contributed to the prize.

New in 2019 are the $100,000 Texas Halo Fund Investment Prize and the $50,000 Pediatric Device Prize supporting the advancement and commercialization of novel pediatric medical devices.

Additional prizes:

• $50,000 NASA Space Exploration Innovation Award
• $25,000 nCourage Courageous Women Entrepreneur Prize
• $25,000 Women’s Health and Wellness Prize awarded by Sandi Heysinger and Dick Williams
• $25,000 Texas Business Hall of Fame Prize
• $25,000 Texas Medical Center Accelerator, TMCx, Prizes, plus a guaranteed spot in their accelerator.
• $20,000 Pearland Economic Development Corporation Prize
• The winner of the grand prize will ring the closing bell at the Nasdaq MarketSite in New York.

The RBPC has a new custom-designed application, judging and scoring system, developed and managed by Poetic, a Houston-based business technology solutions firm.

The competition takes place in McNair Hall, the home of the Jones School, 6100 Main St. The awards banquet will be held at 6 p.m. April 7 at Westin Galleria, 5060 W. Alabama St. The banquet is by invitation only but open to the news media.

2019 Rice Business Plan Competition teams

For more information on the 2019 Rice Business Plan Competition or to apply, visit http://rbpc.rice.edu.

By Jennifer (Jennie) Latson

This article originally appeared in the New York Times as "Migraines and Me: A Love Story?" 

I’m kind of a big deal on the migraine clinical trial circuit. Researchers love me, if only for the prodigious number of migraines I get: 10 to 12 a month on average.

“This is fantastic,” the coordinator of my latest drug trial said when I showed him the headache diary I’ve been dutifully keeping for years. “This is great data.”

“Great for you,” I said. For me, it represents roughly a third of my life spent in the grip of migraines, including three or so days a month when I am bedridden with crippling pain and intense nausea.

I’ve tried more than a dozen existing migraine prevention medications and participated in a number of clinical trials for new ones. None of these drugs have helped; some have really hurt. All were designed to treat other maladies and then repurposed for migraines after patients taking them for hypertension or seizures or bipolar disorder reported a coincidental improvement in their headaches.

This trial, which I started in August, is the first time I’ve taken a drug designed specifically for migraines. It targets calcitonin gene-related peptide, a neurochemical that makes blood vessels swell, which people with migraines apparently produce too much of.

For the first time in my life, a drug seems to be helping. And the worst side effect so far has been extreme hopefulness — though this hope has come with unexpected complications. After years of experimenting with migraine drugs, I no longer worry that a new medication won’t work; that’s what always happens. What I noticed this time was a new worry: What if this one does?

I had my first migraine when I was 12 — then another, then another. At first, I didn’t know what they were. My parents thought I was just unusually susceptible to the flu, a condition they hoped, and I assumed, I’d outgrow. As a driven, overachieving teenager, I believed that all doors were open to me, career-wise. Astronaut. Surgeon. First female president.

It wasn’t until my freshman year at Yale that my migraines were diagnosed, and it dawned on me that I wasn’t going to outgrow them. Doors began to close. Having to lie down for days at a time seemed to rule out a job in which people’s lives depended on my showing up to work — so surgery was off the table. I also suspected that chronic migraines would undermine a presidential candidate long before Michele Bachmann’s headaches made headlines. I became a journalist instead.

For more than 20 years now, migraines have played a central, if unwelcome, role in my life, like the obnoxious sibling I never had. They’ve also helped shape me into who I am. They gave me my high pain tolerance and made me a pro at projectile vomiting — a talent that earned me the family nickname Barferina. And now that I’m facing the tantalizing prospect of getting rid of them forever, I’m starting to realize that I can’t even picture my life without them. Who would I be, after all, if not Barferina, stoically doing the best I can in spite of my migraines?

The emergence of a wonder drug would be bittersweet for multiple reasons. It would mean that had it come along earlier, I could have been an astronaut. And if the solution is really this simple — your body makes too much of this peptide, so here’s a drug that inhibits it — I’d struggle to understand why it took so long to develop.

But a cure would also be a new burden. Saying I’ve done my best “in spite of my migraines” lets me off the hook for anything I haven’t done, like becoming the first female president. If this migraine drug works, nothing will be stopping me from doing great things — which will also take away my excuse for not doing them.

Then again, what if the migraines actually helped me achieve what I have so far? Scott Sonenshein, a professor at Rice University’s Jones Graduate School of Business, argues that we can accomplish more when our resources (in my case, health) are scarce than when they’re unlimited. “Constraints can motivate us to be resourceful, act in more creative ways, and solve problems better,” he writes in his book Stretch.

It’s true that migraines have taught me valuable skills. I’ve learned to get my work done well ahead of deadlines, lest a migraine derail me at the last minute. I’ve learned how to push through pain when I have to — and to be kinder to myself the rest of the time. I’ve learned how to ask for help when I need it. Will a headache-free me be less responsible, less diligent? Or will I push myself harder, knowing that I’ll no longer end up in disabling pain from overexertion? I have so many questions for this possible future version of myself. (And one for NASA: How old is too old for astronaut training?)

Of course, if an identity crisis is the price I have to pay to end the debilitating brain pain, I’ll gladly pay it. I’ve spent decades dreaming of a cure, often while lying in a dark room with a bag of frozen peas pressed to my face. The surprise is that I’d feel any nostalgia for those days at all. But I realize now that if Barferina goes, part of me will miss her.

Jennifer Latson is a staff writer and editor at Rice Business and the author of The Boy Who Loved Too Much.

Based on research by Douglas A. Schuler and Kathleen Rehbein

• A company’s experience and expertise don’t play much of a role in gaining entry to the halls of power.
• Whether a company would be significantly impacted by a proposed policy had little bearing on whether they’d be invited to testify about it.
• Perhaps unsurprisingly, the best predictors of political influence are lobbying and money.

Beneath the dome of the U.S. Capitol stand statues of some of most influential figures in American history: George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Ronald Reagan, Susan B. Anthony and Martin Luther King Jr. Tourists who stroll through the rotunda, understandably, can feel a bit overwhelmed. 

These figures made a mark on history in part because they were able to push for sustained legislative initiatives. In short: They had political muscle. Rice Business Professor Douglas A. Schuler and Kathleen Rehbein of Marquette University recently sought to bring the lessons of these historical influencers into the present, to better understand how businesses can exert a similar kind of political power. 

Schuler and Rehbein’s approach was to develop a series of snapshots that could provide insights into what kinds of lobbying worked best. To do this, they examined the political influence of 1,266 publically traded companies between 1991 and 1994, focusing on congressional testimony about two critical trade issues: the ratification of NAFTA and the Uruguay Round of multilateral trade negotiations during the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade summit.

Studying the companies’ foreign market expertise, political relationships, and lobbying strategies, among other factors, Schuler and Rehbein investigated which elements played key roles in gaining access to Washington policymakers. That is to say, their goal was to understand how these companies most effectively wielded influence. If the companies managed to testify before Congress or join the ranks of trade policy advisory boards, they’d achieved noteworthy political access.

Which factors were the most critical to making such political inroads? The results were somewhat counterintuitive. First, the researchers found that experience didn’t guarantee access. There was little to suggest that a firm’s foreign experience would translate into appearing at a congressional hearing. Nor was experience with foreign sales a precursor to membership on advisory panels or trade policy organizations.

It was less clear whether the volume of a company’s export business played a role. Members of Congress tended to invite firms from industries with a high proportion of foreign sales to testify. But there was no clear indication that it mattered whether the firm competed significantly with import traffic.

You’d also expect that firms with a long history of holding sway in Washington would be more likely to be invited to testify at hearings or join trade associations. Turns out, that’s not quite the case. Past experience with trade policymaking bodies did not seem to affect congressional behavior regarding hearings.

What about the degree to which a given policy would affect a particular firm? Surely the companies with the most to gain or lose from a trade deal or tariff plan would be the stakeholders Congress would want to hear from? Not necessarily, Schuler and Rehbein found: The impact a policy would have on a company was statistically unimportant in predicting invitations to hearings.

So what does it take to wield influence in Washington? High-profile lobbyists, the researchers found. Companies that used lobbyists were significantly more likely to appear before Congress or to be a member of an important trade advisory institution.

Perhaps least surprisingly, one of the most influential factors in gaining political access is good old-fashioned cash. Firms that contributed to the Political Action Committees (PACs) of trade subcommittee members were significantly more likely to testify in hearings. Likewise, the firms that contributed PAC money to subcommittee members were more likely to be included on one of the trade advisory committees.

It’s a lesson that has stood the test of time when it comes to government influence: If you want to play, you have to pay. Think of that the next time you enter the Capitol rotunda.

Douglas Schuler is an associate professor of business and public policy at the Jones Graduate School of Business at Rice University.

To learn more, please see: Schuler, D., & Rehbein, K. (2011). Determinants of Access to Legislative and Executive Branch Officials: Business Firms and Trade Policymaking in the U.S. Business and Politics, 13(3), 1-30.