Breeding coyotes
What we lack in cash, we make up for in intellectual capital.
At a Lunar New Year (Tet) celebration for the Vietnamese community in Silicon Valley, a friend suddenly recounted how, as a child, he eagerly awaited Tet because it was a rare occasion when his village had electricity.
Hailing from a poor rural area in Northern Vietnam, he excelled at school, attended university in Hanoi, and then received a scholarship to study in the United States. During his early days in Illinois, he juggled his studies with buying and selling used books on Amazon to make ends meet. His wife worked at a nail salon, and together, they cared for their firstborn son.
Twenty years later, my friend is a tech director at Meta, managing nearly two hundred multinational experts. The little boy from back then is now attending an Ivy League school, poised to follow in his father's footsteps. His family has also welcomed two new members.
In just one generation, his family has achieved a spectacular life transformation: from a village without electricity to a secure position in the world's tech capital.
But he didn't reminisce about the old days to talk about himself, but rather about Vietnam: "We're all so caught up in our own lives, we hardly notice how much the country has changed." In his words, I sensed the poignant nostalgia of an expatriate and a lingering, wistful question: what can I do for my homeland?
A few weeks ago, I had lunch with a Vietnamese expert who is directly participating in the AI race among the tech giants. He mentioned times when he had to work day and night, sleeping in the parking lot, waiting for his wife to bring him a change of clothes.
Despite his demanding schedule, he still makes time to be an adjunct professor at a university in Vietnam. I didn't need to ask why, as I had heard him mention two words: "Tổ quốc" (Motherland).
Dreams have carried us, the children of Vietnam, to distant horizons, but whenever we meet, our conversations always turn to our origins. The Vietnamese government and businesses are also eager to attract overseas Vietnamese talent.
Supply and demand seem to be there, so why haven't top-tier tech experts like my two friends returned?
I believe there are gaps preventing the two sides from meeting.
The first barrier is the scale and quality of opportunities that exist only in Silicon Valley. Every time I stand on my porch looking down at Mountain View or towards San Francisco, I always feel both overwhelmed and excited. A small land, compact to the eye, yet it holds so much of the world's capital and technological knowledge. I feel like if I just threw a stone, it could hit a billion-dollar company.
Living and working here is like living in the future, where self-driving cars roam the streets and what happens today will spread globally tomorrow. With such a playing field, it's understandable that the most talented people want to come here to test their limits.
The second, and larger, barrier is the financial challenge. To see this clearly, look at the scale of American tech behemoths. Apple's revenue in 2024 exceeded 390 billion dollars, equivalent to over 80% of Vietnam's GDP. With such resources, they can easily pay million-dollar salaries to engineers. Meanwhile, in Vietnam, even a CEO position rarely reaches that level.
That disparity makes calls to "go home but not worry about salary" unrealistic. Any relationship is only sustainable if it's mutually beneficial. Sacrifice, by definition, eventually runs out.
Even if someone is willing to contribute, they have a family behind them. During a conversation, when we jokingly mentioned a renowned AI expert returning to Vietnam for three months, his wife immediately interjected: "Three months?!" The whole table just chuckled and changed the subject.
These two barriers, coupled with the mindset of expecting sacrifice, create a classic chicken-and-egg problem: Vietnam needs talent to become prosperous, but it isn't yet prosperous enough to attract that talent.
A few domestic enterprises have made efforts, but the number of returning experts remains modest. Naturally, as the economy grows, opportunities will increase. But the urgent question is: is there a way to accelerate this?
I believe the answer lies in Vietnam's greatest advantage: what we lack in cash, we make up for in intellectual capital. Vietnam has a generation of young, enthusiastic engineers with solid foundational skills and, notably, a "hunger": a hunger for knowledge and to reach global heights. This is a tremendous resource, yet it hasn't been fully tapped.
For many years, Vietnam's primary policy has been to "welcome eagles." But perhaps we've misidentified them. These entities aren't agile eagles, but more like hippopotamuses.
Hippos are large and strong, but also slow and cumbersome. When a tech "hippo" comes to Vietnam, they usually already have a global role-allocation strategy and a pre-defined long-term roadmap for us. They will simply execute the plan, making changes very difficult.
Having worked at Google for nearly 12 years, I can clearly state one thing: the larger the company, the slower it moves. That's why a young startup like OpenAI is currently leading the AI race.
This very inertia and cumbersomeness make it difficult for "hippos" to help Vietnam build a domestic industry. Intel's factory is a clear example: after nearly two decades, it still primarily handles packaging and testing. Similarly, Vietnamese businesses mostly supply paper boxes or plastic components to Samsung.
The technological gap is another hurdle. A developing economy cannot immediately absorb the processes of a trillion-dollar corporation. It's like a primary school student trying to learn directly from a professor. Learning from smaller companies, those just a few steps ahead, would be more realistic.
Of course, the "hippo" path isn't futile. Samsung has evolved from assembly plants to a 220-million-dollar R&D center in Hanoi. But that process is very slow.
If we only wait for a long-term, passive roadmap, we will miss many opportunities. To go further and faster, Vietnam needs a second approach.
I think of the coyote in North America. They are not kings of the jungle, but they are masters of survival. Small, agile, they travel in packs and derive strength from numbers. Like tech startups, they don't wait to be fed; they hunt for themselves.
"Breeding coyotes" is a way to attract intellectual capital without directly competing with Silicon Valley on salaries. Instead of finding people to return to take salaries, let's create conditions for them to come to Vietnam, establish companies, and pay salaries to Vietnamese people.
And just as importantly, this strategy also addresses the remaining barrier: opportunity. The most ambitious founders don't need to leave Silicon Valley. They can turn Vietnam into a strategic base, leveraging its excellent engineering teams as a "secret weapon" to help them compete globally.
It must be clarified: I am not advocating for cheap software outsourcing. The goal is for Vietnamese engineers to become full-time employees of global startups, accessing knowledge and solving difficult challenges. That is the fastest path to learning and advancement. Of course, they would then receive competitive salaries, equity, and full benefits.
With what I have directly experienced, I believe that Vietnam is among the world's top in the ratio of human resource quality to investment cost. The time has come for us to dream bigger than software outsourcing.
What I'm saying isn't new. Many have done it, with varying degrees of success. Many Vietnamese-led startups in the US that I know have engineering teams in Vietnam. A pack of Vietnamese-origin "coyotes" is gradually forming.
As someone running such a startup, I see that Vietnam has great potential to develop this model, but still needs stronger and more coherent policies.
In development strategy, focusing on existing strengths is a fundamental principle. If Vietnam invests appropriately in “breeding coyotes,” it can absolutely create a dynamic force of enterprises, contributing to driving innovation and sustainable growth.
The message sent to founders around the world needs to be crystal clear: "Come to Vietnam and build your empire. Hire Vietnamese talent as founding engineers. We have the best, most ambitious engineers to fight alongside you." This is an invitation for everyone, not just those of Vietnamese heritage.
When these tech "coyotes" grow strong and venture globally, they not only create economic value but also forge leaders, shaping a winning culture for a new generation.
And then, my friends will no longer have to choose between a career in Silicon Valley and sacrificing to return. They can be in Palo Alto, leading a startup based in Saigon or Hanoi.
At that point, the question "what can I do?" will no longer be a restless concern. The answer will be simple: Vietnamese talent can both build a fulfilling life for their families and contribute to creating new "eagles" right in the Motherland.
Special thanks to Vũ Hân, Lương Việt Quốc, Vũ Tú Thành for reading and commenting on drafts. This article was translated with Gemini from its original Vietnamese version.