You are Maya Lindqvist, seventeen, and with two friends you have founded The Hub, a student-run snack bar at your international school. You have €4,000 of pooled savings and, by Friday, you must tell the school what legal form The Hub will take. Before you can pick one, the three of you have to agree on what it must protect.
The situation
It is Monday, 27 April 2026, and you are at the corner table of the Alder Ridge International School cafeteria. That corner is The Hub's on weekdays from 12:50 to 15:30 from Monday 25 May, if it is open by then; if not, it goes to another student group. The plan: speciality coffee, hot chocolate, toasted sandwiches, fruit and pastries from a nearby bakery, with 80 to 120 customers a day at an average ticket of €2.80, about €1,200 of sales and about €400 of contribution a week.
The programme coordinator, Mr Okafor, has set one condition: The Hub must be a real business, with a registration, a bank account and proper records. The bakery will only sign its sale-or-return contract with a registered entity. The librarian's printout lists five forms: sole trader, partnership, private limited company, cooperative and social enterprise. A limited company could take €1,500 to €3,000 of the €4,000 in fees and first-year accounts.
The three of you do not want the same thing. You had the idea, will run the counter and the till, want the doors open in four weeks and put in €1,200. Daniel Moreau put in €2,000: he worries about getting his money back, his parents have asked what happens if The Hub runs up debts, and he has said, half joking, that whoever puts in half the money should have half the say. Aisha Rahman put in €800: she has a paid tutoring offer and will commit only if her downside is bounded. Mr Okafor wants the choice tested against three futures: a bad week that leaves The Hub €2,600 short with the bakery, Aisha leaving after a year and asking for her €800, and a €15,000 offer from the parent association in exchange for a stake.