For a long time, I had a very simple response whenever something in business wasn’t working.
Work harder.
Sales slowing down? Work harder.
Client unhappy? Work harder.
Project delayed? Work harder.
Team struggling? Jump in and work harder.
There was something comforting about that mindset because effort was something I could control.
If I stayed up later, answered more messages, took more meetings, solved more problems and pushed harder, I felt like I was doing my job.
And to be fair, that mentality got me somewhere.
In the early stages of building anything, hard work matters.
Sometimes there really is no shortcut.
You need to make the calls.
Write the proposal.
Fix the website.
Talk to the customer.
Handle the complaint.
Close the sale.
Build the product.
Send the invoice.
Follow up again.
And when there are only a handful of people in the company, there isn’t always someone else to do it.
So you do.
The problem is that a habit that helps you survive one stage of business can become the exact thing holding you back at the next.
That is something I’m still learning.
Being Busy Can Feel Like Progress
There were periods where my days were completely packed.
Messages coming in constantly.
Clients asking questions.
Team members needing decisions.
Sales opportunities.
Campaigns.
Product ideas.
Operations.
Meetings.
There was always something to do.
And when you’re constantly moving, it is very easy to convince yourself that the business must be moving too.
But those two things are not the same.
A founder can be incredibly busy while the company remains completely dependent on him.
In fact, sometimes the busier the founder becomes, the bigger the problem.
Because every important decision starts flowing through one person.
Eventually, you become the traffic jam.
I’ve started asking myself a different question.
Not:
How much did I get done today?
But:
What became easier for the company because of what I did today?
Those are very different questions.
One measures activity.
The other measures leverage.
The Hero Trap
There is another uncomfortable part of this.
Being the person who solves everything feels good.
Someone has a problem.
You know the answer.
You jump in.
Problem solved.
You feel useful.
Your team feels relieved.
The client is happy.
Everyone moves on.
Except something else quietly happens.
The organisation learns that whenever things become difficult, you will eventually step in.
So people wait.
Decisions move upward.
Ownership moves upward.
Problems move upward.
And eventually the founder becomes responsible for everything.
I don’t think this happens because founders deliberately want control.
Sometimes it happens because we genuinely want to help.
But helping too much can create dependency.
That has been an important lesson for me.
Every problem I personally solve needs to be looked at in two ways.
First:
How do we solve this problem today?
Second:
Why did this problem need me in the first place?
The second question is usually more valuable.
Maybe there wasn’t a clear process.
Maybe someone didn’t have enough information.
Maybe responsibilities weren’t clear.
Maybe the person needed training.
Maybe we hired the wrong person.
Maybe the system itself was badly designed.
Whatever the answer is, solving that underlying issue is far more valuable than becoming better at firefighting.
Hard Work Isn’t the Enemy
I still believe in hard work.
Very strongly.
I don’t subscribe to the idea that success comes from finding some magical system where everything runs effortlessly while you sit somewhere drinking coffee.
Building things is difficult.
There will always be periods where you need to push.
The difference is what the work is creating.
If I work twelve hours today and tomorrow the company still requires those same twelve hours from me, I’ve created output.
If I work twelve hours today and build something that permanently reduces the work required tomorrow, I’ve created leverage.
That leverage might be a process.
A piece of software.
A good hire.
A documented system.
A recurring revenue stream.
A better pricing model.
A trained manager.
A decision-making framework.
A stronger product.
Those things continue working after you’ve finished working.
That’s the type of work I’ve become more interested in.
My Definition of Productivity Has Changed
I used to feel productive when my task list was empty.
Now I think differently.
Sometimes the most productive thing I can do is spend two hours thinking about one problem.
Sometimes it is having a difficult conversation.
Sometimes it is deciding what we should stop doing.
Sometimes it is giving someone else responsibility instead of taking it myself.
And strangely, that can feel less productive.
There isn’t the immediate satisfaction of ticking ten boxes.
But the impact can be much bigger.
I’m starting to believe that leadership is less about how many problems you can solve and more about how many problems the organisation becomes capable of solving without you.
That’s a difficult transition for someone who started as a builder.
When you know how to execute, execution always feels like the safest place to return to.
But eventually your role changes.
The company doesn’t need another pair of hands.
It needs clarity.
Direction.
People.
Systems.
Capital.
Standards.
Decisions.
The Question I’m Asking Now
I still have days where I fall back into old habits.
Something goes wrong and my instinct is:
Fine. I’ll handle it.
Sometimes that’s necessary.
But I’m trying to catch myself.
Because I don’t want to build a business where my ability to work harder is the main growth strategy.
There is a limit to that model.
There is only one of me.
There are only twenty-four hours in a day.
And there is a point where working harder stops producing better results.
So the question I’m trying to ask more often now is:
Instead of working harder at this problem, what would make this problem easier forever?
I don’t always have the answer.
But asking the question itself has changed the way I build.