Sunday, 8 November 2026

A122. Collaborative Affiliate Marketing: The Business Model Where Nobody Gets a Salary - Jack’s Curated Business Idea - Jack Lookman Limited

A122. Collaborative Affiliate Marketing: The Business Model Where Nobody Gets a Salary


Most small businesses begin with an argument about money that nobody has yet earned. One person has the idea, another has the capital, a third has the audience, a fourth has the time. They agree to work together, and because nobody wants to talk about percentages in the excited first week, the split is left vague, up until the first payment arrives and everybody discovers they remember the agreement differently.

The model Jack Lookman sets out in this episode of Jack's Curated Business Idea starts from that problem and works backwards. Instead of hiring people and paying them, or taking on investors and giving them equity, it pools contributions such as cash, skills, time, equipment, converts each one into a value, and distributes profit in proportion to what went in.

It is called collaborative affiliate marketing. And the more you look at it, the less it resembles marketing and the more it resembles a cooperative with a spreadsheet.






What the model actually is


The mechanism is simple to state. A team forms around a venture. Each stakeholder contributes something like money, in-kind resources, labour, a skill, an audience. That contribution is evaluated and converted, as far as possible, into a monetary value. Sales are made, expenses are deducted, and whatever profit remains is distributed according to the recorded contributions, rather than according to salaries or job titles.

Profit sharing itself is not a new idea. What makes this version distinctive is who participates and how they are treated. Nobody is an employee. The affiliates are not staff on a payroll; instead they are participants whose stake is measured. The project manager is not a boss drawing a fixed wage; they are a contributor whose recruitment, coordination and administration count toward their share.

Jack is careful to distinguish it from crowdfunding, and the distinction matters. In crowdfunding, money comes in, a project happens, and backers are repaid or rewarded. Here, people do not simply fund the work. They contribute, they participate, and they are paid out of the result in proportion to what they put in. It is closer to a partnership than a fundraiser - which is exactly why the legal framework carries so much weight in the conversation.







The four roles


The structure is deliberately small. Four roles, and in a very small start, some of them collapse into the same person.

Affiliate marketers are the income engine. They arrive at two levels which are trainees with no track record, and experienced marketers who already know how to sell. The distinction is not cosmetic, because training a trainee is a cost the venture carries, and that cost has to be acknowledged somewhere in the split.

The project manager steers: Recruitment, coordination, delegation, profit administration and the record-keeping that makes the whole thing work. This is the role that decides whether the model functions, because the model is only as fair as its records.

Investors supply capital: They can come from inside the team or from outside, and Jack's framing is telling: people who see the business's vision can be brought on board. Note what is not promised to them - not equity, not a fixed return, but a contribution that gets valued like everyone else's.

And a legal officer puts the framework in place: One detail here is unusually practical: Jack says this person does not have to be a lawyer. A paralegal, or somebody with a working knowledge of contracts, is enough to start, with a solicitor consulted when something genuinely complicated arises. For a small venture, that is the difference between having a framework and having nothing because a lawyer seemed unaffordable.







The weakest point in the whole model, named by its own author


About four minutes in, the host asks how the profit-sharing formula would work in practice. Jack's answer is disarming: the formula is not ready yet. He has done the paperwork, he says, but building the calculator needs funding, and it will be outsourced when the money exists.

That honesty is worth pausing on, because it reveals where the risk sits. The entire model depends on a valuation method like a way of deciding that this person's three months of unpaid selling is worth the same as that person's ₦500,000. Without a working method, the split is not proportional. It is whatever the loudest person argues for at the end of the quarter.

The good news is that a small venture does not need software to do this. A spreadsheet with one row per person, one column per contribution type, and a written rule for converting each type into a number will do the job for a team of six.

The spreadsheet is not the hard part. The hard part is agreeing the conversion rule before anybody contributes anything, because afterwards every party has an incentive to value their own input generously.






The funding gap that makes training the interesting question


Jack is candid that the model is not funded. That creates a specific problem he addresses directly: if you invest training in an affiliate who then leaves, you have spent money on somebody else's future employee.

He offers two solutions. A guarantor, who stands behind the trainee in case they withdraw after the investment. Or an upfront payment from the trainee, which is then credited back into the profit-sharing calculation once they start earning.

The second is more elegant, because it solves two problems at once. It filters out people who are not serious, like someone who is unwilling to put down anything is unlikely to do the unglamorous work of affiliate selling, and it gives the trainee a recorded stake from day one, which converts them from a beneficiary into a participant.

There is a third option he does not mention, and it may be the most practical of all for a small team: pay for the training with contribution rather than cash. A trainee who brings an audience, a mailing list, or twenty hours a week of prospecting has already contributed something measurable, and that contribution can be valued in the same spreadsheet as everybody else's.



Empowerment and Inspiration




The football academy analogy


The best line in the episode is not about money. Jack compares the model to a football club running an academy: you take people with raw ability, train them from scratch, build their confidence, give them a chance to explore their potential - and eventually they generate value for the team.

It is a good analogy because it is honest about the two-way nature of the deal. An academy is not charity and not exploitation; it is an exchange, where the club invests and the player develops, and both benefit if it works. The analogy also carries its own warning, which Jack does not spell out: academies lose players to better clubs, and they plan for it.

Anybody building a training-based affiliate team should assume their best trainee will eventually leave, and structure the arrangement so that departure is a normal event rather than a betrayal.


The expectations problem


Jack returns more than once to managing expectations, and specifically to telling affiliates plainly that the venture is not promising to make them rich overnight. That single sentence prevents a category of failure that has nothing to do with the model and everything to do with recruitment.

The reason is simple. Affiliate marketing attracts people who have been sold a fantasy - the passive income story, the link that pays for a car. Those people arrive with an expectation the business cannot meet, work intensely for six weeks, earn almost nothing because the first sales always come slowly, and leave convinced they were deceived. The model did not fail. The promise did.

He also raises the mindset directly: you do not want people joining who then shirk the work, or worse, divert the commissions. His answer is to set expectations at the door, and to build the mindset before the first payout rather than after the first dispute.


The numbers, and why you should treat them carefully


Jack cites figures he found online for affiliate marketer earnings, banded by experience: roughly nothing to $12,000 a year for beginners in their first year, $12,000 to $120,000 at intermediate level, $120,000 to $1.2 million at advanced level, and above $1.2 million for the top few per cent.

Those bands should be read as illustration, not forecast. They come from an online source rather than from audited data, the ranges are enormous, and they almost certainly describe a global population of affiliate marketers skewed towards large audiences and mature markets. The top band describes a very small number of people who mostly built their position over years, often on platforms and in niches that did not exist a decade ago.

The useful takeaway is the shape, not the figures: affiliate income is heavily concentrated at the top, most participants earn modestly or nothing in year one, and the distribution is far more unequal than the bands suggest. Which is precisely why managing expectations, as above, is not a soft topic but a commercial one.


Why the legal framework carries the weight


A striking amount of the conversation is devoted to paperwork, and it becomes clear why. The model has no employer, so the ordinary protections of employment law simply do not apply. Nobody has a salary to fall back on, nobody has statutory notice, and nobody has a contract of employment spelling out their duties. Everything that would normally be assumed has to be written.

So Jack lists what must be documented: the legal framework and the checks and balances that protect both shared and individual interests; rewards and penalties, agreed in advance; periodic budgets, monthly, quarterly or annual; contracts and agreements for each participant; dispute resolution; and an exit strategy covering death, fraud, disputes, resignation and closure.

That last item is the one most small partnerships skip, and it is the one that ends them. A venture without an exit clause has no way to let somebody out gracefully, so departure becomes a crisis rather than a transaction.

There is also a structuring question: register the business, or place it under the umbrella of an existing one. For a first venture, the practical answer usually involves proper registration and a written agreement, and getting professional advice on which structure fits.


A realistic way to test it this quarter


If the model appeals, do not build the software. Build the smallest possible version.

Pick one product with a commission structure that already exists, so you do not need to create an offer. Find three people who will contribute different things - one with time, one with an audience, one with a small amount of cash for tools. Write one page: what each is contributing, how it will be valued, how profit is split, when payouts happen, what happens if somebody leaves. Run it for ninety days and keep every number visible to everyone.

At the end of ninety days you will know two things that no amount of planning can tell you: whether the valuation rule felt fair in practice, and whether the people you chose will do the unglamorous work when nobody is watching.


The honest summary


This is not an employee-free shortcut to easy money. It is a way of structuring collaboration so that people who contribute cash, skill and time can all be paid from the same pot without anybody having to guess what they are owed. The spreadsheet is the product. Trust is the asset. And the legal framework is what protects both when someone inevitably disagrees.

Jack says at one point that this is hard work. He is right, and it is worth repeating: the reason most collaborative ventures fail is not a weak idea. It is arithmetic that nobody wrote down and an exit that nobody planned.

A note before you act: this article is general information, not legal, tax or financial advice, and the earnings figures quoted are illustrative ranges from an online source rather than guarantees. Profit-sharing arrangements can create legal and tax obligations that differ by jurisdiction. Confirm the structure with a qualified professional before money changes hands.





Ps. Artificial intelligence was leveraged in creating the text.




Jack Lookman’s Websites And Books 


Yoruba Project 


Jack’s Redundancy Empowerment 


Jack’s Curated Business Ideas 


Suggested Products And Services 


Useful Links 


We also monetise through promoting 3rd party products and services via Affiliate Marketing Links. This is accomplished without additional cost to you.


At Jack Lookman Limited,Our mission is to Empower and Inspire Generations by Leveraging the Internet.

Sunday, 1 November 2026

A121. Could That Celebration of Life Be an Entrepreneurial Opportunity? The Business Hiding in How We Remember - Jack’s Curated Business Idea

A121. Could That Celebration of Life Be an Entrepreneurial Opportunity? The Business Hiding in How We Remember


There is a moment at every celebration of life service that nobody plans for. The tributes have been read. A colleague has told a story the family had never heard. A neighbour mentions a kindness done quietly, years ago, that nobody in the room knew about.

For about ninety seconds, the person being remembered becomes more complete than they ever were in life; and then the service ends, the plates are cleared, and all of it goes home in people's heads and quietly evaporates.

That gap is where an unusual business idea lives. Not a morbid one, and not a cynical one, but a genuinely interesting one; what if those stories were captured, shaped, and shared with the people who need them?

This is the idea Jack Lookman puts forward in the Curated Business Idea series, in conversation with host Juwon Ogungbe. It is a business proposal, and like most good proposals it is really a question about values wearing a spreadsheet. 

Here is what the idea actually is, how the model works, and the uncomfortable problem at its centre that any honest entrepreneur has to face before they start.







The idea, in one sentence

Turn celebration of life ceremonies into inspirational content like in multiple formats, multiple languages and multiple platforms, and then monetise that content.

That is the whole pitch. Everything else is execution. But the reason it is worth taking seriously is not the content. It is where the content comes from.

Why these stories are scarce, and scarcity is the business

Most inspirational content on the internet is abundant to the point of worthlessness. Quotes, threads, morning routines, lessons from billionaires. You can find a thousand versions of the same advice before lunch, which is precisely why none of it changes anybody's behaviour.

The stories told at a celebration of life are different in one crucial way because they are usually confined to the room. In the Nigerian and wider Christian tradition that Jack points to, a family gathers after a death not to dwell on the loss but to celebrate the life, and in doing so they say things about the person that were never public. What they did. How they gave, either in cash or in kind. What they endured. Who they quietly helped.

That material does not exist anywhere else. It is not searchable, it is not indexed, and it is not available to the teenager scrolling at midnight looking for a reason to keep going.

Jack's argument is disarmingly simple: a young person facing difficulty who reads a book or a website containing stories of ordinary people who lived well, might be moved to live better. Adults too, who are reading about peers or elders who have passed, can provoke the thought that there is more to do with the time remaining.

Scarcity plus genuine usefulness is the combination every content business is chasing. This idea has both, which is rare.







What the model looks like in practice

Jack lays out a structure that will be familiar to anyone who has built a content business, and applied to an unfamiliar subject.

Formats are text, audio and video. Platforms are paperbacks, ebooks, audiobooks, blogs and social media. The recommended route is to start with text and repurpose outward  like text to audio, text to video, or to start on one platform such as a blog or an ebook and redistribute across others.

This is the standard repurposing ladder, and it matters more here than just the usual, because the raw material is emotionally heavy. You do not want to be improvising format and tone at the same time.

Language strategy is where the model gets interesting. Start in English, then the language of your actual market, then expand. The advice is not to guess: check where your audience already comes from. 

If your blog statistics show most readers who are arriving from France, consider a French edition. Let the data choose the translation budget, rather than your ambitions.

Niche selection follows the same discipline. Jack segments by the age of the person that is being remembered, like older people, younger people, adults, diaspora families, or by any other demographic grouping. 

And he suggests the model can be lifted entirely onto adjacent categories. His example is university graduates, who already flood LinkedIn with detailed accounts of what they went through, what they learned, and who they became. Same structure, different material, different audience.

That last point is the most commercially useful sentence in the whole episode. The mechanics here are not about death. They are about capturing a specific person's journey and shaping it for someone who needs it.

Grief is one market for that. Graduation is another. Retirement is a third. Anyone who has just finished something difficult and can articulate it, is a potential subject.







The permission problem, which is the heart of it

Here is where the idea stops being a content strategy and becomes a genuine business question, and it is the part the host presses hardest on.

The obvious first move is collaboration with the family. Jack says this may be necessary, and that if the model requires the family's consent, written permission should certainly be obtained, with terms agreed and a profit-sharing formula settled with all parties involved.

He also stresses transparency as a business principle, not just a legal one; like if you tell a family what you will deliver, deliver it, because transparency is what builds the trust the whole model depends on.

Then he offers the alternative. Rather than seeking consent, you could take a different route - content you have seen online, reworked into a fictional form. 

In that case, he suggests, you may not need the family's permission, because what you have produced is a literary work inspired by that life or journey rather than a reproduction of it. He calls fiction the preferred option for avoiding complications, disputes and potential legal problems.

This is careful thinking, and it is also the place where a reader should slow down. The distinction between reporting a life and writing fiction that is inspired by a life is real, but it is not a magic wand.

A thinly fictionalised portrait of a recognisable person can still cause harm, and can still attract a complaint, particularly where living relatives are identifiable or where the person was publicly known. 

Anyone building this business should treat the fiction route as a risk-reduction strategy to be checked with a lawyer, not a loophole to be relied upon.

Jack makes a related and more subtle point about anonymity. Even when working with a family's consent, anonymising the subject may be the right call. Families may not want it known that they are earning from the content, a completely reasonable position that a business owner should anticipate rather than resist.

And if the person was a controversial figure, they would most likely prefer not to be identified at all. Both observations suggest the same design decision: build the format so that anonymisation is easy, because some of your best stories will require it.







The money

The monetisation plan is a list rather than a strategy, which is honest for an early-stage idea: product sales, upsells, affiliate marketing, sponsors, advertising, and links. Marketing is digital plus word of mouth, and the research and development is the ordinary work of studying market, competitors and product.

Two of those deserve more weight than the rest. Product sales are the backbone, because books and ebooks are the natural container for a life story and they carry a price that reflects effort. 

Sponsors are the most underrated, because a collection of inspirational life stories has an obvious institutional buyer like memorial services, insurers, community organisations, faith groups; who would rather be associated with it than advertise alongside it.

Affiliate and advertising revenue, by contrast, will be thin unless the audience is large. Early on, they are a distraction from the thing that actually earns: a well-made book, or a blog with a genuine readership, that is sold directly.







What it takes to start

Almost nothing, which is why the idea is credible. Jack's requirements are a digital device, an internet connection, a power source, and the skills to run the business: IT, communication, interpersonal and entrepreneurial.

No office. Start from home, expand later if it thrives. No team at the start - begin alone, build as you progress. Register properly and be compliant, and consider operating as a sole trader initially, either as your own project or as part of an existing business. Treat it as a side hustle first, and convert it into a full-time business only if it becomes profitable.

That sequence is the most sensible thing in the episode, and it is the opposite of how business ideas are usually sold online. Side hustle first, team later, premises never unless forced. It costs almost nothing to test and almost everything to over-build.


Awin



The threats, named honestly

Jack names two risks: conflict, and sometimes greed - because where money is involved, disputes and greed follow. He is right, and the reason is structural rather than personal. 

The moment a family story becomes a product, everyone involved is in a relationship that did not exist before: the family, the subject's friends, the business, and any collaborator who introduced the story.

Three protections are worth building in from day one. Put the profit-sharing formula in writing before any content is published, not after it earns. Agree in advance who has final editorial control, because the first disagreement will be about tone, not money. 

And keep a record of what was consented to what was included, what was excluded, and when the family approved it. Most disputes in this space will be disputes about a conversation nobody wrote down.

The question worth asking before you start

The idea has one tension that no business plan resolves. It takes material generated by grief and converts it into a product. Jack's answer is that the project focuses deliberately on the positive, like taking the good from a celebration of life and publishing it to a wider world.

That is a fair answer, and it is also a choice about what gets left out, because a celebration of life is by design a partial account. As the host observes, a family only ever sees one side of a person, the way you see one face of a statue until you walk around it.

A business built on inspirational partial accounts is not dishonest. It is a genre, and genres have conventions. But anyone running it should be clear-eyed that they are curating, not documenting - and that the people whose lives are being curated have relatives who will read the result.

One more thing worth saying plainly: this idea will not suit everybody, and the people it will not suit are the ones who see an audience before they see a person.

 If your first instinct on hearing a family story is to ask how it converts, you will produce content that reads exactly that way, and readers can tell. The entrepreneurs who make this work are the ones who would collect the stories for free, and happen to have found a way to be paid for it.

The thirty-day test

If the idea appeals, do not write a business plan first. Do this instead. Collect three stories, with permission and in writing. Produce one of them properly - a short book chapter, or a single long blog post.

 Publish it in one language, on one platform. Then watch three numbers: how many people finish reading it, how many share it unprompted, and whether anybody asks where they can find more.

That last number is the whole business. Affection for an idea is cheap. A stranger asking for a second story is a market.

The thing that makes it worth doing

Most business ideas solve a small inconvenience for a customer who barely notices. This one is different. It addresses something that happens at every funeral and is almost never captured like the ninety seconds when a room full of people assembles a more complete picture of a person than any single one of them held alone.

Whether that should become a product is a question each entrepreneur has to answer for themselves. But the raw material is real, scarce and worth preserving. 

If you can build something that preserves it honestly, pays the people whose lives it contains, and puts it in front of somebody who needed to read it, you will have built something better than most businesses; and considerably more useful than most content.



Ps. Artificial intelligence was leveraged in creating the text.




Jack Lookman’s Websites And Books 


Yoruba Project 


Jack’s Redundancy Empowerment 


Jack’s Curated Business Ideas 


Suggested Products And Services 


Useful Links 


We also monetise through promoting 3rd party products and services via Affiliate Marketing Links. This is accomplished without additional cost to you.


At Jack Lookman Limited,Our mission is to Empower and Inspire Generations by Leveraging the Internet.

A122. Collaborative Affiliate Marketing: The Business Model Where Nobody Gets a Salary - Jack’s Curated Business Idea - Jack Lookman Limited

A122. Collaborative Affiliate Marketing: The Business Model Where Nobody Gets a Salary Most small businesses begin with an argument about ...