10 insights: Rework
#1:
A company can reject growth, meetings, budgets, boards of directors, advertising, salespeople, and “the real world,” yet thrive. They say you need to sell to the Fortune 500. Screw that. We sell to the Fortune 5,000,000.
What is it about growth and business? Why is expansion always the goal? What’s the attraction of big besides ego? (You’ll need a better answer than “economies of scale.”) What’s wrong with finding the right size and staying there? Don’t make assumptions about how big you should be ahead of time. Small is not just a stepping-stone. Small is a great destination in itself.
#2:
“That would never work in the real world.” You hear it all the time when you tell people about a fresh idea. The real world isn’t a place, it’s an excuse. It’s a justification for not trying.
#3:
If no one’s upset by what you’re saying, you’re probably not pushing hard enough. (And you’re probably boring, too.)
#4:
Anyone who takes a “we’ll figure out how to profit in the future” attitude to business is being ridiculous. That’s like building a rocket ship but starting off by saying, “Let’s pretend gravity doesn’t exist.” A business without a path to profit isn’t a business, it’s a hobby. So don’t use the idea of a startup as a crutch. Instead, start an actual business. Actual businesses have to deal with actual things like bills and payroll. Actual businesses worry about profit from day one. Actual businesses don’t mask deep problems by saying, “It’s OK, we’re a startup.” Act like an actual business and you’ll have a much better shot at succeeding.
#5:
Less is a good thing. Constraints are advantages in disguise. Writers use constraints to force creativity all the time. Shakespeare reveled in the limitations of sonnets.
You’re better off with a kick-ass half than a half-assed whole. So start chopping. Getting to great starts by cutting out stuff that’s merely good.
You don’t make a great museum by putting all the art in the world into a single room. That’s a warehouse. What makes a museum great is the stuff that’s not on the walls. Someone says no. A curator is involved, making conscious decisions about what should stay and what should go.
#6:
When we start designing something, we sketch out ideas with a big, thick Sharpie marker, instead of a ballpoint pen. Why? Pen points are too fine. They’re too high-resolution. They encourage you to worry about things that you shouldn’t worry about yet.
#7:
If you’re planning to build “the iPhone killer” or “the next Pokemon,” you’re already dead. You’re allowing the competition to set the parameters. You’re not going to out-Apple Apple. They’re defining the rules of the game. And you can’t beat someone who’s making the rules. You need to redefine the rules, not just build something slightly better.
#8:
Just as you cannot not communicate, you cannot not market. If you build software, every error message is marketing.
#9:
There’s never really a great way to say you’re sorry, but there are plenty of terrible ways. One of the worst ways is the non-apology apology, which sounds like an apology but doesn’t really accept any blame. For example, “We’re sorry if this upset you.” Or “I’m sorry that you don’t feel we lived up to your expectations.” A good apology accepts responsibility. It has no conditional if phrase attached. It shows people that the buck stops with you. And then it provides real details about what happened and what you’re doing to prevent it from happening again. And it seeks a way to make things right.
#10:
When you say “can’t,” you probably can. And these words are especially dangerous when you string them together: “We need to add this feature now. We can’t launch without this feature. Everyone wants it. It’s only one little thing so it will be easy. You should be able to get it in there fast!” Only thirty-six words, but a hundred assumptions.