I love the idea of peer groups, networking associations, co-working spaces, team work-shops and unconferences. I really do. I go to all these events, try and help out, speak, give time, free consulting and even the occasional drunken rant. These are important things to get out and do. They’re good places to meet partners, peers and mentors, get ideas, voice concerns and often get a free drink. In a town like Tampa, its difficult to work in that “campus-like” community that you get in some of the big tech cities. Our organizations like Tampa Bay WaVE and Barcamp take some of the place that you’d normally see taken by a well tied-in university. WaVE is working on a co-working space, organizes mixers and meetups and Barcamp helps spread new ideas, lets people talk that “college” kind of idealistic nonsense that is what I live for. Ideas need places to live, they need other minds to infect and other ideas to interact with. These groups do a good job of giving us a place to do that.

However there does seem to be this prevailing idea in start-up owners I meet at some of these things that having a dedicated PLACE to work is a requirement for DOING work. I completely understand the requirement for getting out of your basement/cave/parents-house and getting some work done at the office/coffee shop/bus stop. Hell, I understand getting out of pretty much ANYWHERE your work – I often leave Sourcetoad’s comfortable offices with our ridiculously fast fiber connections and comfy chairs to go to a hookah cafe with spotty WiFi and metal chairs because the change in pace and place is useful in creative thought. But the skills required to be a good business are the same they’ve always been – hard work and grit.

How many million or billion dollar companies have been started in garages or basements or dorm rooms? What you need to be a good start up is long hours in front of a terminal in the dark to give you that blue-tan that venture capitalists respect. It’s pretty well understood these days that if you want next-round funding/space/love/etc you need to show up with a working model that works. Tech is too easy in this day and age that if you show up with a nice power-point and some mockups you’re not going to fool anyone. And the kind of work and time that is required to get there has nothing to do with where you do it. In fact, I’d say that the people who have time to complain about WHERE they’re going to work clearly are not spending enough time actually working. If you don’t have the grit to lock yourself in a bedroom, scam a library space or simply learn to turn off your TV and Playstation and just write code from morning to night, you’re probably not going to make it anyway, regardless of where you sit. It would be lovely to have a co-working space, or have some other company let you share their offices or have enough cash to rent someplace small, but it is not a requirement.

True Grit

I think that some of the “incubators” that have sprung up are excellent examples of this lack of understanding, and opportunistic greedy bastards who don’t actually do anything for the community. We’re not talking about a small amount of cash either, some of these places charge New York prices to be in their fancy buildings. If you’re asking start-ups to pay for space, you are making a difficult financial situation even harder. It is understandable that once you realizes that start-up really want this “place-to-work” that you can take the idea of the West Coast incubators and create some sort of University sponsored profit center, but they end up being filled by businesses started on university IP, or friends of the board or whatever. They’re also heavily focused on bio-tech as apposed to the IT stuff that I normally come into contact with.

If your mission was first and foremost to help nurture and help the tech-start up community in Tampa Bay, you would take equity rather than cash for these spaces. Obviously it’s not a model that works when there is not a lot of cash around, but more importantly it is a model that does’t work when there is not a lot of belief around. If equity was what was traded, the backers would want pretty solid ideas, business plans and management teams to fill these prized free spaces. In order to get there, you’d need a group of folks who were knowledgeable and experienced enough to evaluate the merits of the plan and the team in order to make a wise investment of the space. But these people don’t exist in Tampa, or they do, but they’re too busy doing what they’re doing that would make them good candidates.

My point is that if there were a ton of really great and successful start-ups that had come of the community here, our incubators would be more like the ones out West, but they’re not. It’s the same reason we’re not having to beat venture capitalists off with sticks down here. We need to do it ourselves. So either donate some cash to WaVE or one of the others, or get back to work and stop wasting time reading blogs.

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I help companies turn their technical ideas into reality.

CEO @Sourcetoad and @OnDeck

Founder of Thankscrate and Data and Sons

Author of Herding Cats and Coders

Fan of judo, squash, whiskey, aggressive inline, and temperamental British sports cars.

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The Product Is Bait

You Don’t Know Yet

Founders don’t know what problem they’re solving yet, and neither do any of their customers, and the annoying part is that this is not actually bad news, because if you stay in it long enough, you will eventually figure it out.

The Product Is Bait

The way it usually goes is this: You build something that takes a particular angle on a particular problem in a particular industry (probably one you know pretty well, or think you do), and one of two things happens. You either get sucked into a kind of product development haunted house where it has to be just a little more complete before it’s ready, and the dashboard needs better onboarding, and what if it had a Slack integration, and maybe the logo should feel more “enterprise” (I have never once heard a satisfying definition of what “enterprise” means as an aesthetic), or you get a version out the door and into the actual market, where it doesn’t sell. Not selling is, counterintuitively, on ok outcome. It won’t feel good, it’ll feel like capitalism personally singled you out for a lesson, but what you have now is a real artifact that maybe 1% of your original intended market can react to, and that 1% is enormously valuable because real reactions are the only raw material that matters. You can now take that product (which is bait, more than anything else) and you start showing it to ten, twenty, thirty potential customers, watching their faces and listening to what they complain about.

Feature-Requested to Death

At first, they will try to feature-request you to death. These requests will feel very convincing because customers say things like “if it could just hook up to our QuickBooks instance, I’d buy it tomorrow” or “if the AI could handle this last piece of the workflow, this would be an absolute game-changer for us” (they will ALWAYS ask if it can export to Excel, a request I believe predates the spreadsheet and may outlast the species). So you go back to your team, you build as fast as you can, you ship version two with all the new features, you go back to those same customers, and if you are good, AND lucky they will tell you the exact same thing: there are just one or two more features they really need, and then this thing will fix the problem once and for all, and you are almost there.

The Roadmap Graveyard

I’m going to pause the loop here because it can go on for twenty iterations (and I’ve seen it go longer). The real tragedy is that a lot of founders never even get this far, because their demo customers have them trapped in feature-development purgatory forever… or their own brains trap them there, because the product has to be perfect before any real human is allowed to see it. Those products die in roadmaps and “just one more thing” conversations, and never get rejected by the market because they never actually reach it.

Eventually, You Start Seeing the Elephant

But if you can stay in the conversation long enough, past the feature requests and the individual customers and the literal words people are saying to you, something strange starts to happen. You become, through sheer accumulated exposure, the world’s leading expert on the problem your customers all have in common. Not the problem you thought you were solving when you started, and not the problem any one of them has described to you, but the actual structural problem that everyone is bumping into from different directions (Schlep Blindess) without being able to name it, because nobody has a view of the whole thing. One customer tells you it’s the accounting system. Another says it’s logistics. A third says the two systems don’t talk to each other. A fourth blames someone named Susan in operations (this may or may not be fair to Susan… but yeah, wtf Susan?) Each of them is holding a piece of the elephant, the trunk or the tail or the foot, and describing it with complete sincerity, and they are all correct about their piece, and none of them can see the animal.

You, Neo, Are The One!

You are the only person who has talked to all of them, which means you are the only person positioned to eventually see the whole thing. The insight doesn’t come in a meeting and it doesn’t come from a good customer interview; it comes sideways, usually while you’re not looking for it. You’re at lunch with a client and one of their direct reports walks in with a quick question, and two people start having a conversation right in front of you, and the boss asks why the system can’t do something, and the user explains the workaround, and a third person adds “we only do it that way because finance needs the numbers by Thursday,” and a piece clicks, and then another, and then another. You suddenly understand that the product you built wasn’t the product at all; it was the thing that got you close enough to understand what the actual product should be, which turns out to be a considerably more interesting thing to build.

Earning the Right to Understand

The first version won’t be right, and the second version probably won’t be right either, and that is not failure… that is the process of earning the right to understand what you’re actually building (see Paul Graham’s “How to Get Startup Ideas“). Most founders want to skip straight to the insight, want the clean customer discovery process and the tidy MVP and the market telling them in bullet points exactly what to build, and that is just not how it works. You build the wrong thing, you launch it, you survive, you talk to as many customers as you can stand, you resist becoming a short-order cook for every prospect with a credit card, and you keep looking for the pattern underneath all the noise until eventually you see the elephant.

That’s when the real company starts.