The courage to course correct

I built Aesthetic to replace designers with software. Then I almost killed it by solving the wrong problem.

We hired creative directors and contract designers. Built a small engineering team. Within months, dozens of startups wanted our help.

Our software wasn't ready.

We faced a choice: turn down clients or hire more people to do the work manually. Hiring felt reversible. Turning down work felt permanent.

We hired.

One year later, we were cranking out traditional design work. Our automation software was still a dream. We'd become exactly what we'd set out to disrupt.

But here's where strategy saved us: We caught the drift before it killed us.

Michael Porter defines strategy as "achieving sustainable competitive advantage by preserving what is distinctive." Each choice either sharpens or blurs that distinction. When I finally measured our choices against this standard, I saw how far we'd strayed.

We could have kept drifting. Instead, we made the hard call.

We reset. Fired our full-time team. But we didn't just cut and run – we turned our designers into contractors and eventually sold them the service business. They got to run what they'd helped build. We got to refocus on our original vision: creating software that would transform design.

Here's what I learned about strategy:

It's not about being right the first time. It's about recognizing when you're wrong fast enough to change.

You need three lights to navigate by:

Your mission: The change you'll make if you win Your vision: What you'll build in the next two years Your strategy: How you'll prove it works

Write it down. Put it everywhere decisions happen. Use it without mercy.

A client wants work that breaks your strategy? Decline. An amazing hire pulls you off course? Pass. A customer begs for features that blur your vision? No.

But the real test isn't saying no. It's admitting when your yes's were wrong.

Your strategy can change when you learn. But changing it means making hard choices. Choices that hurt. Choices that feel like failure in the moment.

For every decision, ask: "How does this serve our strategy?" Make people point to specific parts of your plan. If they can't, you have your answer.

And when you realize you've drifted – act. Fast. The longer you wait, the harder it gets.

I thought Aesthetic was a story about drift. But it's really a story about courage. The courage to admit when your path is wrong. The courage to hurt in the short term to win in the long term. The courage to let your strategy guide you, even when it guides you to uncomfortable places.

Don't let your next "just for now" become a "that's who we are."

But if it does – have the courage to change it.