Why I now pay a “building tax” before every new feature I build
Here is the voice agent I built last week (+1-833-659-8124). You can call it.
I’m genuinely unsure if it is useful.
Meanwhile, I’m spending my days doing something completely opposite – talking to people about my business. That contradiction recently brought some illumination.
With my business, I’m talking and selling every day like Gary Payton trash-talking up and down the court. Writing LinkedIn posts. Reply guy on X. Substack notes. Commenting on posts and starting conversations in DMs.
Recently, on one of my conversation sprees, I commented on a post by a technical founder who usually writes these sarcastic meme-like LinkedIn posts. I wrote about how I’ve noticed that technical people would spend the entire weekend refactoring (rebuilding) their code base but wouldn’t spend a single minute talking to one customer.
The author of the post responded: “Because rebuilding gives a concrete outcome. Talking to one client is pure chaos.”
That comment stuck with me.
Because I recognized that exact thinking in myself – and probably in you, too.
Building is just another comfort zone.
Build with people, not for people you haven’t talked to.
Building feels productive.
You’re making progress. Shipping features. Getting dopamine hits with each new thing you create.
It’s addictive. Every line of code, every new feature, every extra widget, every design tweak gives you that hit. You convince yourself: “This is good. People will want this.” You’re locked in. Making tangible progress. The work is certain. The outcome is in your control.
But you can spend months building something nobody wants.
I learned this the hard way with my first business.
I spent months building, feature upon feature – user-generated content editor, trigger-specific email notifications, customized user profiles, and gamified social network (that last one was the sure thing that was going to do the final trick).
Each new feature gave me a dopamine hit. I convinced myself people would want it.
Then I launched to crickets. Zero signups.
Six months I’ll never get back, building something nobody asked for.
This is a pattern that I see too often.
The smartest people build amazing things, but struggle to get anyone interested. They have the technical dexterity. They solve hard problems. They ship polished products. Meanwhile, someone else is making bank selling a mediocre product.
The clear difference?
One person stays in the building cave. The other talks to people.
Building is comfortable. You work with your hands. You’re in the zone. You see progress. Consistent dopamine hits. This applies to anyone addicted to their output – not just product builders, but people who bury themselves in any type of work to avoid the uncertainty of human feedback.
Talking to people is uncomfortable. It’s messy. The dopamine hits are few and far apart. One piece of lukewarm feedback can make you spiral. You might abandon your project for months.
But here’s what I’ve learned over the years – the demoralizing pain of launching to silence is worse than the discomfort of talking to people early.
Now, if you’re building for yourself that’s fine. Creating for the sake of creating. But if you want others to use or experience what you create, you need to involve them early and build it “with them,” not “for them.” That’s the only way to know what’s actually valuable versus what’s a feature tunnel trap.
When I make music, I don’t care if anyone likes it. I just make it. But with the products I build for others? I have a different intention. And when the outcome doesn’t match that intention, the gap between where you are and where you expected to be becomes demoralizing.
You can close that gap by talking to people along the way.
Choose the discomfort now. It’s a thousand times better than the devastation later.
The only way to avoid this devastation is to pay a tax on your building time.
Pay the tax to build
Those that build with clearer intentions have a better experience.
Pay the “building tax” with human conversations.
When I’m building, it all starts with intention. I ask myself whether I’m building something for myself or whether I want others to experience what I’ve built. If it’s the former, I just build freely. But if it’s the latter, then I find a cadence to get feedback (talking to people) on what I’m building. I’m currently doing this with my service, my upcoming book, and a sales tool I’m building for early-stage founders.
With each step, talking to the people I want to serve is the “tax” I pay before moving to the next building step.
Paying this tax, along the way, slows me down enough, so I don’t get high on my own supply.
Here’s what that looked like a few months ago. I built the first prototype in December. It took me about 20 evenings in December, then I forced myself to show it for 20 days in January before building anything else.
The feedback was humbling. I had over-engineered the whole thing. If I didn’t pay that building tax, I’d still be over-engineering something people don’t want.
Here’s how I’d incorporate it into whatever you’re building, if you’re open to experimentation:
Decide intention: Ask yourself, “Are you building something for fun (like my voice agent) or do you want other people to use it?”
Choose your building tax: Decide the cadence on how you want to build and show. Either make it time-bound (for every hour/day I spend building, I would spend the same amount of time showing people and getting feedback) or make it quantity bound (for every new feature, I would talk to a prospective customer for 15 minutes). Time-bound is a lot easier because most of us are bad at estimating the time a new activity takes.
Reach out to pay your building tax: Prioritize people in your network – old classmates and former colleagues that fit into the persona of who you’re building for. Ask for feedback over a 30 minute call.
Ask very specific questions: “What do you think?” is not a very helpful question. Ask “What’s one thing you wished was here?” “What’s the least beneficial thing you saw?” “If you could improve one thing, what would it be?” “How can I make this better and more helpful in your life?”
Use this feedback loop to shorten the gap between your intentions and outcomes.
So you can build something people want – with them, not for them.
Closing Reflection:
I wish I had picked up this skill earlier.
To be quite honest, I don’t do it enough because it doesn’t come as natural to me. But over the years, I’ve pushed myself to get in front of people. Because I know how painful it is when you build something that just falls flat.
The more you bring people along as you build, the better the outcome for you and the people you build for.
So here’s my question for you today: “”What are you building right now where you’ve convinced yourself it’s right before you’ve tested it with anyone?”
Yours truly,
Nifemi
P.S. I work with a handful of technical founders as a fractional growth partner – helping with positioning, GTM, and execution sprints when you need it. If you’re building something and could use a thought partner who gets both the strategy and the psychology, reply and let’s talk.
