Zen Internet: The founder who has promised never to sell

Richard Tang built Zen Internet on a simple idea that runs counter to much of modern business thinking. “People are first, money is second,” he says. It sounds idealistic. Yet nearly three decades on, the business has grown to more than £100m in revenue, remained profitable and resisted the pressures that have reshaped much of its industry.

The origin story is disarmingly straightforward. Tang started the business in 1995 with “£5,000 and lots of hard work”, spotting early the appeal of a subscription model. What followed, however, was not passive income but relentless execution.

“You can’t just sit back and watch the money rolling in. You’ve got to work really hard to continue to provide that service,” he reflects. It is an early reminder that attractive business models still demand operational discipline to sustain them.

The first real test came not from internal challenges, but from market disruption. When Dixons launched FreeServe in 1998, offering free internet access, it threatened to wipe out smaller providers overnight. “My worst nightmare had come true,” Tang recalls.

Yet what looked like an existential threat became a catalyst for change. Zen shifted focus towards business customers, where margins were stronger, while benefiting from the surge in overall internet adoption. “A real threat turned into one of the biggest opportunities,” he says.

That ability to reframe disruption is a recurring theme. Rather than chasing scale at any cost, Tang has consistently prioritised sustainability and alignment. Zen’s core objectives are explicit: “happy staff, happy customers, happy suppliers... Everything else is subservient.”

In practice, that shapes decision-making in ways that often run against conventional logic. When inflation surged, the company honoured its lifetime price guarantees despite the financial impact. “Sticking to the promise is more important than boosting our profits,” he explains.

This philosophy extends to ownership. Tang has committed never to sell the business and to place it into a long-term trust or foundation. The intention is not just continuity, but to challenge the assumptions of traditional capitalism. “I want to make a difference to the world,” he says, arguing that businesses can deliver both commercial success and broader societal value without defaulting to short-term shareholder returns.

The trade-off is speed. Zen’s growth has been steady rather than explosive, averaging mid-single digits over the past decade. Tang is comfortable with that. “I’m not in some mad rush to get there… as quickly as we can get there while sticking to the values,” he says. It is a deliberate rejection of growth at any cost, favouring resilience over acceleration.

Culture, in this context, becomes the mechanism that holds everything together. Tang is clear that scale does not have to dilute it. “It doesn’t matter how big you are. If you are genuinely set on a particular purpose, you can maintain that,” he says. The challenge is consistency, reinforcing values continuously as new people join and the organisation evolves.

Underlying all of this is a broader critique of how success is measured. Tang questions the primacy of metrics like GDP or quarterly profit, arguing they can distort long-term outcomes. In their place, he advocates for a more balanced view, one that considers wellbeing, sustainability and purpose alongside financial performance.

For business leaders, the lesson is not to abandon growth or profit, but to reconsider their role. Tang’s experience suggests that prioritising people and long-term trust can be a powerful driver of both. The result may not always be the fastest path, but it is one that appears to endure.