The Lean Startup - Eric Ries [18]
We had a mental model for how people used software that was years out of date, and so eventually, painfully, after dozens of meetings like that, it started to dawn on us that the IM add-on concept was fundamentally flawed.3
Our customers did not want an IM add-on; they wanted a stand-alone IM network. They did not consider having to learn how to use a new IM program a barrier; on the contrary, our early adopters used many different IM programs simultaneously. Our customers were not intimidated by the idea of having to take their friends with them to a new IM network; it turned out that they enjoyed that challenge. Even more surprising, our assumption that customers would want to use avatar-based IM primarily with their existing friends was also wrong. They wanted to make new friends, an activity that 3D avatars are particularly well suited to facilitating. Bit by bit, customers tore apart our seemingly brilliant initial strategy.
Throwing My Work Away
Perhaps you can sympathize with our situation and forgive my obstinacy. After all, it was my work over the prior months that needed to be thrown away. I had slaved over the software that was required to make our IM program interoperate with other networks, which was at the heart of our original strategy. When it came time to pivot and abandon that original strategy, almost all of my work—thousands of lines of code—was thrown out. I felt betrayed. I was a devotee of the latest in software development methods (known collectively as agile development), which promised to help drive waste out of product development. However, despite that, I had committed the biggest waste of all: building a product that our customers refused to use. That was really depressing.
I wondered: in light of the fact that my work turned out to be a waste of time and energy, would the company have been just as well off if I had spent the last six months on a beach sipping umbrella drinks? Had I really been needed? Would it have been better if I had not done any work at all?
There is, as I mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, always one last refuge for people aching to justify their own failure. I consoled myself that if we hadn’t built this first product—mistakes and all—we never would have learned these important insights about customers. We never would have learned that our strategy was flawed. There is truth in this excuse: what we learned during those critical early months set IMVU on a path that would lead to our eventual breakout success.
For a time, this “learning” consolation made me feel better, but my relief was short-lived. Here’s the question that bothered me most of all: if the goal of those months was to learn these important insights about customers, why did it take so long? How much of our effort contributed to the essential lessons we needed to learn? Could we have learned those lessons earlier if I hadn’t been so focused on making the product “better” by adding features and fixing bugs?
VALUE VS. WASTE
In other words, which of our efforts are value-creating and which are wasteful? This question is at the heart of the lean manufacturing revolution; it is the first question any lean manufacturing adherent is trained to ask. Learning to see waste and then systematically eliminate it has allowed lean companies such as Toyota to dominate entire industries. In the world of software, the agile development methodologies I had practiced until that time had their origins in lean thinking. They were designed to eliminate waste too.
Yet those methods had led me down a road in which the majority of my team’s efforts were wasted. Why?
The answer came to me slowly over the subsequent years. Lean thinking defines value as providing benefit to the customer; anything