This Sunday I spent all evening in BeryTech Technological Pole Yalla Startup Event. Many ideas were presented very few gained our attention. This made me raise the question: How do you get good ideas for startups?
Paul Graham raised this question and answered it in some of his articles. People believe that coming up with ideas for startups is very hard – hard enough that they do not try to generate them. They assume ideas are like miracles: they either pop into your head or they don’t. People overvalue ideas. They think creating a startup is just a matter of implementing some fabulous initial idea. And since a successful startup is worth millions of dollars, a good idea is therefore a million dollar idea.
If coming up with an idea for a startup equals coming up with a million dollar idea, then of course it’s going to seem hard. Too hard to bother trying. Our instincts tell us something so valuable would not be just lying around for anyone to discover.
Actually, startup ideas are not million dollar ideas, and here’s an experiment you can try to prove it: just try to sell one. Nothing evolves faster than markets. The fact that there’s no market for startup ideas suggests there’s no demand. Which means, in the narrow sense of the word, that startup ideas are worthless.
The fact is, most startups end up nothing like the initial idea. It would be closer to the truth to say the main value of your initial idea is that, in the process of discovering it’s broken, you’ll come up with your real idea.
The initial idea is just a starting point– not a blueprint, but a question.
There’s a real difference, because an assertion provokes objections in a way a question doesn’t. If you say: I’m going to build a web-based spreadsheet, then critics– the most dangerous of which are in your own head– will immediately reply that you’d be competing with Microsoft, that you couldn’t give people the kind of UI they expect, that users wouldn’t want to have their data on your servers, and so on.
A question doesn’t seem so challenging. It becomes: let’s try making a web-based spreadsheet and see how far we get. And everyone knows that if you tried this you’d be able to makesomething useful. Maybe what you’d end up with wouldn’t even be a spreadsheet. Maybe it would be some kind of new spreasheet-like collaboration tool that doesn’t even have a name yet. You wouldn’t have thought of something like that except by implementing your way toward it.
Treating a startup idea as a question changes what you’re looking for. If an idea is a blueprint, it has to be right. But if it’s a question, it can be wrong, so long as it’s wrong in a way that leads to more ideas.
So far, we’ve reduced the problem from thinking of a million dollar idea to thinking of a mistaken question. That doesn’t seem so hard, does it?
To generate such questions you need two things: to be familiar with promising new technologies, and to have the right kind of friends. New technologies are the ingredients startup ideas are made of, and conversations with friends are the kitchen they’re cooked in.
It’s obvious why you want exposure to new technology, but why do you need other people? Can’t you just think of new ideas yourself? The empirical answer is: no. Even Einstein needed people to bounce ideas off. Ideas get developed in the process of explaining them to the right kind of person. You need that resistance, just as a carver needs the resistance of the wood.
This is one reason Y Combinator has a rule against investing in startups with only one founder. Practically every successful company has at least two. And because startup founders work under great pressure, it’s critical they be friends.
I find that to have good ideas I need to be working on some problem. You can’t start with randomness. You have to start with a problem, then let your mind wander just far enough for new ideas to form.
In a way, it’s harder to see problems than their solutions. Most people prefer to remain in denial about problems. It’s obvious why: problems are irritating. They’re problems! Imagine if people in 1700 saw their lives the way we’d see them. It would have been unbearable. This denial is such a powerful force that, even when presented with possible solutions, people often prefer to believe they wouldn’t work.
So far most of what I’ve said applies to ideas in general. What’s special about startup ideas? Startup ideas are ideas for companies, and companies have to make money. And the way to make money is to make something people want.
Wealth is what people want. I don’t mean that as some kind of philosophical statement; I mean it as a tautology.
So an idea for a startup is an idea for something people want. Wouldn’t any good idea be something people want? Unfortunately not. I think new theorems are a fine thing to create, but there is no great demand for them. Whereas there appears to be great demand for celebrity gossip magazines. Wealth is defined democratically. Good ideas and valuable ideas are not quite the same thing; the difference is individual tastes.
But valuable ideas are very close to good ideas, especially in technology. I think they’re so close that you can get away with working as if the goal were to discover good ideas, so long as, in the final stage, you stop and ask: will people actually pay for this? Only a few ideas are likely to make it that far and then get shot down; RPN calculators might be one example.
One way to make something people want is to look at stuff people use now that’s broken. Dating sites are a prime example. They have millions of users, so they must be promising something people want. And yet they work horribly. Just ask anyone who uses them. It’s as if they used the worse-is-better approach but stopped after the first stage and handed the thing over to marketers.
Of course, the most obvious breakage in the average computer user’s life is Windows itself. But this is a special case: you can’t defeat a monopoly by a frontal attack. Windows can and will be overthrown, but not by giving people a better desktop OS. The way to kill it is to redefine the problem as a superset of the current one. The problem is not, what operating system should people use on desktop computers? but how should people use applications? There are answers to that question that don’t even involve desktop computers.
Everyone thinks Google is going to solve this problem, but it is a very subtle one, so subtle that a company as big as Google might well get it wrong. I think the odds are better than 50-50 that the Windows killer– or more accurately, Windows transcender– will come from some little startup.
Another classic way to make something people want is to take a luxury and make it into a commmodity. People must want something if they pay a lot for it. And it is a very rare product that can’t be made dramatically cheaper if you try.
This was Henry Ford’s plan. He made cars, which had been a luxury item, into a commodity. But the idea is much older than Henry Ford. Water mills transformed mechanical power from a luxury into a commodity, and they were used in the Roman empire.
When you make something cheaper you can sell more of them. But if you make something dramatically cheaper you often get qualitative changes, because people start to use it in different ways. For example, once computers get so cheap that most people can have one of their own, you can use them as communication devices.
Often to make something dramatically cheaper you have to redefine the problem. The Model T didn’t have all the features previous cars did. It only came in black, for example. But it solved the problem people cared most about, which was getting from place to place.
Redefining the problem is a particularly juicy heuristic when you have competitors, because it’s so hard for rigid-minded people to follow. You can work in plain sight and they don’t realize the danger. Don’t worry about us. We’re just working on search. Do one thing and do it well, that’s our motto.
Making things cheaper is actually a subset of a more general technique: making things easier. For a long time it was most of making things easier, but now that the things we build are so complicated, there’s another rapidly growing subset: making things easier to use.
Success for a startup approximately equals getting bought. You need some kind of exit strategy, because you can’t get the smartest people to work for you without giving them options likely to be worth something. Which means you either have to get bought or go public, and the number of startups that go public is very small.
If success probably means getting bought, should you make that a conscious goal? The old answer was no: you were supposed to pretend that you wanted to create a giant, public company, and act surprised when someone made you an offer. Really, you want to buy us? Well, I suppose we’d consider it, for the right price.
I think things are changing. If 98% of the time success means getting bought, why not be open about it? If 98% of the time you’re doing product development on spec for some big company, why not think of that as your task? One advantage of this approach is that it gives you another source of ideas: look at big companies, think what they should be doing, and do it yourself. Even if they already know it, you’ll probably be done faster.
Just be sure to make something multiple acquirers will want. Don’t fix Windows, because the only potential acquirer is Microsoft, and when there’s only one acquirer, they don’t have to hurry. They can take their time and copy you instead of buying you. If you want to get market price, work on something where there’s competition.
If an increasing number of startups are created to do product development on spec, it will be a natural counterweight to monopolies. Once some type of technology is captured by a monopoly, it will only evolve at big company rates instead of startup rates, whereas alternatives will evolve with especial speed. A free market interprets monopoly as damage and routes around it.
The most productive way to generate startup ideas is also the most unlikely-sounding: by accident. If you look at how famous startups got started, a lot of them weren’t initially supposed to be startups. Lotus began with a program Mitch Kapor wrote for a friend. Apple got started because Steve Wozniak wanted to build microcomputers, and his employer, Hewlett-Packard, wouldn’t let him do it at work. Yahoo began as David Filo’s personal collection of links.
This is not the only way to start startups. You can sit down and consciously come up with an idea for a company.
