Published documentation · Essay
Build Only What Deserves to Exist
Not Every Problem Needs a Product
I build a lot of things.
Systems. Automations. Websites. Tools. Processes. Sometimes entire products.
But I’ve learned that not every problem needs to become a product.
Sometimes a problem is just an inconvenience.
Sometimes it happens once and never again.
Sometimes the solution already exists, and I simply haven’t learned how to use it properly yet.
And sometimes, the problem is real—but building something is still not the best answer.
That distinction matters.
Because when you know how to build, it becomes very easy to see everything as something that needs to be built.
I used to think:
There has to be a better way to do this.
Now I add another question:
Does a better way actually need to exist?
I usually start with friction
Most of the things I create start with something annoying me.
A repetitive task.
Information scattered in too many places.
A process that requires ten steps when three should be enough.
A system designed around the software instead of the person using it.
I notice the friction because I am usually the person experiencing it first.
That part is useful.
But frustration alone is not validation.
Before building, I try to understand what is actually wrong.
Is the problem the tool?
The process?
My understanding?
Or simply the expectation that everything should be easier?
Sometimes the answer is: learn first.
Learning can remove problems too
Building is not always creation.
Sometimes building means learning enough to stop doing something badly.
A new skill can eliminate ten unnecessary automations.
A better process can remove the need for another piece of software.
A clearer question can save hours of solving the wrong problem.
That is why I don’t separate learning from building anymore.
They are part of the same cycle.
You experience something.
You question it.
You learn.
Then you decide whether anything actually needs to be built.
The best ideas survive that process
The ideas I care about most are usually the ones that keep coming back.
The problem happens repeatedly.
The workaround becomes ridiculous.
Other people experience the same thing.
And after learning everything I can about the problem, I still find myself thinking:
This should work better.
That is when building starts to make sense.
Not because the idea sounds impressive.
Not because the technology is interesting.
Not because everyone else is building something similar.
Because something useful is missing.
And if I can create it, maybe the frustration that taught me something can eventually become something useful to somebody else.
That, to me, is the point.
**Live enough to notice problems.
Learn enough to understand them.
Build only what deserves to exist.
Then learn again.**