最重要的产品决策是决定不做什么。
The most important product decision is what you don't build

原始链接: https://liamnugent.me/posts/what-you-dont-build/

产品团队经常陷入“加法偏见”,为了满足组织需求,优先创建复杂的“一刀切”式功能,例如通用文档中心或通知中心。这些功能往往是偷懒的解决方案,会造成长期的维护负担和技术债务。 作者认为,团队应抵制构建不必要平台的冲动。相反,应根据具体情况解决沟通需求,专注于个性化用例,而非构建基础设施。成功的衡量标准应是为用户提供的价值,而非交付的功能数量。 真正的挑战在于,我们的文化鼓励创造而非精选。精简功能需要付出巨大的认知努力,但研究表明,剔除不必要的内容往往能带来更好的商业成果和用户体验。作者从史蒂夫·乔布斯 1997 年削减苹果产品线的决策中获得启发,提倡进行无情的优先级排序:集中人才,聚焦核心,并对删除不必要的内容保持强硬态度。正如作者总结的那样,目标不是产出更多,而是简化;有时,删减是团队能做出的最有力的改进。

这篇 Hacker News 讨论探讨了产品开发中克制的重要性,指出团队所能做出的最关键决策是选择“不”去构建什么。 参与者强调,“功能蔓延”往往会导致不必要的臃肿。一个反复出现的主题是客户对“自定义报表”的需求,评论者认为这通常是一种表象需求。工程负责人建议,与其盲目构建复杂的报表工具,不如深入挖掘用户试图回答的潜在问题。通常,解决方案并非开发新功能,而是改进筛选机制、优化现有工具,或是提供 API 让用户能够自主处理数据。 归根结底,此次讨论提倡将核心功能置于无节制的功能增长之上。通过质疑需求并抵制构建一切的冲动,团队可以避免技术债务,并确保交付的产品真正解决用户的需求。
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原文

Ask a team what they shipped this year and you’ll get a list. Ask what they killed and the room goes quiet.

There are two things I’ve tried to take a hard pass on when working on consumer-facing financial services apps.

A “document hub”.

And a “notifications centre”.

You can picture both without any help from me. To my mind they’re both examples of letting the organisation off the hook at the expense of the user. Although it’s fair to say that plenty of users have now been trained to expect these things, and to know roughly how they work — even though they’re crap.

The problem underneath is real enough. The business has legacy systems that produce PDFs — letters, statements, that sort of thing — because originally they’d have been sent out in the post. Compliance experts will also talk to you about “persistent communications channels”. So you need somewhere in the app to put all of that.

The lazy solution is a document hub. A list of files you can select and open.

Seems simple.

Except every stakeholder involved wants to do a Columbo and add just one more thing. By the end you’ve essentially rebuilt Google Drive, with tagging, archiving, printing and sharing across several channels, each with its own quirks. Not to mention clearing the security and authentication hurdles so the right person sees only the right documents. And so on, and so on.

And that is just to build the thing.

Never mind the overhead you’ve created to maintain it, month after month, year after year, as each iOS release cycle comes round and some foible you were relying on to prop up a piece of functionality gets removed unilaterally by Apple. Or Google, or Microsoft, or Amazon.

The notifications centre is the same story with a different opening line. A stakeholder asks whether we could just have a bell icon with a little red dot in the top right corner of the screen. Give it a few months and you’re building a bad Gmail clone.

Showing people the bill

I’ve come up against both of these several times now. It is not easy to get people to let go of a mental model they’re holding in their head, particularly when a customer focus group goes some way to validating it. The cliched old Henry Ford line comes to mind — if you’d asked people what they wanted, they’d have said faster horses, not a motor car.

What I’ve found actually works is illustrating the running costs. Not the build cost. The running costs, laid out over years. That tends to bring people back from the brink.

But killing the platform doesn’t make the original problem go away. How do we communicate with our customers in a way that suits them and meets the legal obligations on our side?

The answer I’ve come back to every time is to take each use case on its own merits. Be rigorous about what actually needs to be said, and when. Then be ruthless about whether it needs a whole platform built first. It’s the same test I keep applying when picking the right problems to solve — does it make the boat go faster?

Most of the time — not always, to be fair — the answer is to use something simple, or something that already exists, even if it isn’t perfect.

Resist, resist, resist the temptation to build a one-size-fits-all.

I’ve even seen the notifications centre idea get built, and then the intent of the original message couldn’t be met by the thing that had been built to carry it.

So my advice comes in two parts. Be extremely choosy about what you let be added to your system. And be militant about taking things out.

Nobody gets promoted for deleting things

The second part is much harder than the first, and it isn’t simply cowardice. Gerry McGovern has been saying this for a long time:

Those who create and launch are the people who are rewarded and looked up to because we still have a culture that rewards the production of things over everything else. To review, to maintain, to remove—this is all seen as lesser work.

His Top Tasks work found that stripping roughly 80 to 90 per cent of a site’s content made companies sell more, cut their support calls and helped people find what they were after faster. Removal as the improvement itself, not the tidying up afterwards. I’ve made the small-scale version of this argument before, about deleting the FAQ page.

And it runs deeper than the org chart. Klotz and colleagues, writing in Nature, ran eight experiments and found that people systematically overlook subtractive changes, even when removing was obviously the better move. Additive ideas arrive quickly and cheaply. Subtractive ones cost real cognitive effort. So we are hard wired for this.

Which means spending the brain power to work out what success genuinely is. And success is usually something out there in the world of the customer, rather than something in here, in the world of the organisation.

But building is nearly free now, isn’t it?

DHH is thoroughly delighted about endless execution — in the age of agents, every idea, every hunch and every experiment is within immediate reach.

I think it’s easy to misunderstand that as an argument for making more stuff all the time.

Using agents to do the pruning seems like the smarter move to me. To do the maintenance. To remove things judiciously, and more carefully than anyone is going to manage by hand.

Stewart Brand’s Maintenance of Everything sits on the paradox that maintenance is absolutely necessary and also entirely optional.

Optional until it’s essential, more like.

The elephant in the rollneck

The elephant in the room, wearing a custom-made Issey Miyake black rollneck, is of course Steve Jobs’ 1997 matrix. Two consumer products, two pro products, and one stellar product in each box.

Steve Jobs’ 1997 product matrix A two-by-two grid. The columns are Consumer and Pro, the rows are Desktop and Portable. Consumer Desktop is the iMac, Pro Desktop is the Power Macintosh, Consumer Portable is the iBook, and Pro Portable is the PowerBook. Consumer Pro iMac Power Macintosh iBook PowerBook Desktop Portable
Four boxes. One product in each. Everything else cancelled.

He then shut down all the other product lines people were working on. That pooled the engineering talent instead of spreading it thin. It was a brave move, and it did the trick.

Apple are up to something like 52 different products and services at the last count, so the end game was never to only sell four things. The point was to focus the organisation on the most important ones, so they didn’t misspend the opportunity cost that allowed them to become one of the biggest corporations in the world.

One thing at a time. Une chose à la fois.

(I’d have written a shorter post, but I couldn’t work out what to take out.)

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