For about fifteen years the hardest part of making software was making it. You had an idea on Monday and a working version sometime the next month, if you were fast and the idea was small. Building was the bottleneck. How we hire, organize teams, and raise money was all shaped around that one fact.
That fact is gone. The cost of building has dropped to almost nothing, and it is still dropping. I can describe a feature out loud and have a rough version of it running before the coffee is cold. So can you. So can the founder down the hall and the sixteen year old who has never shipped anything.
When everyone can build, building is no longer the thing that separates the products people keep from the products people forget. Something else takes that job. I think product people are the ones best equipped for it, and I do not think it is close.
The expensive part was never the building
I spent a decade on one product. If you had asked me at any point what the hard part was, I would not have said the code. The code was a lot of work, but it was work I understood. You sit down, you grind, it ships.
The hard part was the deciding. Who is this for. What earns their trust in the first 30 seconds. What do I cut. What do I refuse to build even though three loud users ask for it every week, and the enterprise inbox keeps promising money if I just add the one thing.
Around 80% of what I tried on Franz never shipped. Not because I could not build it. Because at some point I looked at it honestly and decided it was the wrong thing to put in front of people. Saying no was the most valuable work I did, and it had nothing to do with how fast I could type.
So when people tell me AI changes everything because now anyone can build anything, I agree with the words and not with the conclusion. Building was never the part that mattered most. Now it is barely a constraint at all. The expensive part is still expensive, and the expensive part is judgment.
A product is a story before it is code
There is something I learned slowly and now believe completely. A product is a story before it is a single line of code.
Before I build anything I want to know the story. Who is this for, what does it promise them, why should they care, what is it not. When that story is clear and honest, the product almost assembles itself around it. Every decision has something to check against. And when you get to the end, you are not bolting marketing onto a finished thing. You are telling the same story you have been telling yourself the whole way through, which is the only kind of selling that does not feel like selling.
Most good product people are storytellers, whether or not they would use that word. They hold the story in their head and keep the product honest to it.
AI does not give you that story. Ask it and it will hand you a hundred stories, all reasonable, none of them yours. Picking the true one, the one you actually believe and can carry for years, is not a thing you can generate. It is a thing you have to mean.
The tax that used to keep us honest
Here is something we are about to lose, and we should be honest that it was doing real work.
A lot of what made good products in the past was the tax of building things you were not sure about. Building was so expensive that you could not afford to build on a hunch. Scarce resources at a company were a gatekeeper. Not always for the best, because good ideas died for no reason other than no one had the capacity that quarter. But that gate forced something valuable. When you started a new path with your product, you had to validate it from A to Z first. You had to convince yourself, and usually other people holding the budget, that the thing you were about to build actually made sense.
This is why books like The Mom Test and Lean Startup still make 100% sense to me. Talk to your users before you build. Learn to ask in a way that does not fish for the answer you want. Validate the problem is real. Ship the smallest thing that tests the idea, then look at what actually happened. None of that was invented because it was elegant. It was the discipline the cost of building forced on you, written down.
The cost is gone now, and with it the thing that forced the discipline. But the discipline was never wrong. It was right for reasons that have nothing to do with how much building costs. So it has to move from something the budget enforced to something you choose to do on purpose, and chosen discipline is exactly the kind most people quietly skip. That validation work should stay part of the core muscle. It is more important now, not less, because nothing else is standing at the gate anymore.
Building is now a bonus, not the entry fee
I want to be careful here, because I do not think technical skill stopped mattering. It did not.
Being able to actually build is still hugely valuable, maybe more visibly than before. I can look at what a model produces and feel when it is quietly wrong, when the structure will hurt in six months, when the easy path is a trap. That judgment makes AI-built products meaningfully better, and the people who have it will ship higher quality work than the people who do not.
What changed is where it sits. For fifteen years you could not be in the room without the ability to build. It was the entry fee. Now you can be in the room without it, and the people who have it bring a strong bonus instead of the one non-negotiable skill. That is a real shift. It moves technical ability from the thing that lets you start to the thing that makes your work better once you do.
The room is changing
I find this genuinely good news, and not only because it happens to describe what I do.
For most of my career the product instinct was treated as the soft part of the work. The real work happened in the code, and the product person was the one with opinions about it. When building was the scarce, hard skill, that order made some sense.
It does not make sense anymore. When the cost of building falls to near zero, the value moves to the decisions around the building, to the validation that used to be forced and now is not, and to the story those decisions serve. Those are the product person's job. The people who spent years training that under real pressure, on real products, with real users who left when they got it wrong, are about to be the most useful people in the room.
The tools changed. The hard part did not.
If you are a founder working through exactly this shift, trying to figure out what to build when you can suddenly build anything, that is the work I do with teams. Let's talk.