by Peyman Shahmirzadi

Early-stage founders get asked what sounds like a simple question all the time:
“How far along are you?”
The answer usually sounds something like this:
We built the MVP. We hired two engineers. We launched the website. We added five new features. We pitched 20 investors. We signed our first partnership.
All of those things may represent progress.
But they may also represent a lot of activity without answering the questions that actually determine whether the startup will succeed.
At the earliest stages, your startup is essentially a collection of untested assumptions.
You believe a problem exists. You believe you understand the customer. You believe your solution can solve the problem. You believe customers will pay. You believe you can reach them. You believe the market is large enough. You believe your team can execute.
Some of those beliefs will be right.
Some almost certainly won’t be.
And that’s why I think there’s a better way to answer the question, “How far along are you?”
Instead of asking:
“What have we built?”
Ask:
“What do we know today that we didn’t know 30 days ago?”
That may sound like a subtle distinction, but it changes how you think about progress.
Because at the earliest stages of a startup, the amount of work you’ve completed matters far less than the amount of uncertainty that work has removed.
Movement and progress are not the same thing.
Shipping five new features might feel like momentum. But those five features could reduce less uncertainty than one uncomfortable customer conversation that reveals your ideal customer isn’t actually who you thought it was.
That discovery might feel like a setback.
In reality, it could save you six months of building in the wrong direction.
This is one of the traps I see early-stage founders fall into. The calendar is full. The team is busy. The product is evolving. Meetings are happening. Tasks are getting completed.
From the outside, everything looks like progress.
But underneath all that activity, the fundamental questions surrounding the business may still be unanswered:
Do customers really have this problem? Will they pay to solve it? Are we building the right solution? Can we reach them repeatedly? Will they stay?
That’s the illusion of progress.
Being busy creates a sense of momentum, but a startup doesn’t become less risky simply because more work has been done.
Sometimes the most meaningful progress comes from discovering something you didn’t want to hear and changing direction because of it.
You can be incredibly productive without materially reducing the risk of your startup.
Every early-stage company has a risk profile. The specifics vary from startup to startup, but most founders are navigating some combination of these core risks:
Problem risk: Does the problem actually exist at the level of urgency you believe it does?
Customer risk: Are you targeting the right customer, and is that person actually the decision-maker?
Product risk: Does your solution solve the problem well enough to change customer behavior?
Pricing risk: Will customers pay what you need them to pay?
Distribution risk: Can you repeatedly reach and acquire customers without relying entirely on your personal network?
Retention risk: Once customers use the product, do they continue using it?
And those are only some of the obvious ones. There’s also market risk, competition risk, timing risk, regulatory risk, team risk, and execution risk.
The list can get very long.
But here’s what matters: not every risk matters equally today.
Your job isn’t to eliminate every possible risk at once. It’s to identify the most dangerous assumption your company currently depends on and start attacking it.
If this assumption turns out to be wrong, what happens to the company?
The answer to that question can tell you where your attention should go next.
There’s another pattern I see frequently: founders naturally gravitate toward the work they’re already good at.
Technical founders build. Sales-oriented founders sell. Marketing-oriented founders create campaigns. Fundraising-oriented founders talk to investors.
Those strengths are valuable. But there’s a potential trap:
The risk you’re most comfortable working on isn’t necessarily the risk your company needs you to work on.
If your biggest uncertainty is whether customers actually care enough about the problem, another month of product development may not be progress.
If customers love the product but you have no repeatable way to reach them, adding more features may not be progress.
If people sign up but nobody stays, generating more leads may simply pour more people into a leaking bucket.
In each case, the team can be working incredibly hard while avoiding the uncertainty that matters most.
So the question should always come back to:
“What could we be wrong about that would materially change the future of this company?”
That’s probably where your attention belongs.
One of the most useful questions an early-stage founder can ask is:
“What is the cheapest and fastest way to learn whether we’re wrong?”
That’s a very different question from:
What’s the most impressive thing we can build?
What will look best in our investor deck?
What will make us feel like we’re moving faster?
The goal isn’t activity. The goal is learning.
Sometimes that means building something. Other times, it might mean talking to 20 customers, trying to sell something that doesn’t fully exist yet, testing a higher price, removing a feature, or running a small experiment that fails completely.
And that last one matters.
Founders naturally look for positive signals. We want customers to say yes, investors to show interest, and experiments to confirm what we already believe.
But in the early stages, a definitive “no” can be considerably more valuable than a weak “maybe.”
A clear no eliminates a path and reduces uncertainty.
A maybe can keep you walking down the wrong path for months.
The objective isn’t to prove that you’re right. It’s to find out if you’re wrong before being wrong becomes expensive.
Not all validation is equal.
A potential customer telling you “That’s a great idea” is evidence, but it’s weak evidence. As customers begin taking meaningful actions, the strength of that evidence increases.
Think of validation as a progression:
“That’s a great idea.”
↓
Agrees to a second meeting
↓
Introduces you to the decision-maker
↓
Agrees to pilot the product
↓
Pays for the product
↓
Continues using and paying for it
↓
Renews
↓
Refers another customer
Each step requires more commitment, and each step tells you something the previous one couldn’t.
The closer your evidence gets to actual customer behavior, the more uncertainty you remove.
This is why founders need to be careful about confusing encouragement with validation.
People are often generous with opinions.
Behavior is harder to fake.
This way of thinking also changes how you look at fundraising.
Raising capital is absolutely an accomplishment. But raising money doesn’t, by itself, make a startup less risky.
Capital buys you time and resources to eliminate risk.
That distinction matters.
A startup can raise millions of dollars and spend the next year adding:
More engineers
More features
More marketing
More employees
More activity
All while leaving its most important assumptions unanswered.
So the question isn’t simply:
“What will we do with the money?”
A better question is:
“What uncertainty will this round of capital help us remove?”
Will it help prove that customers will pay? Demonstrate retention? Validate a repeatable acquisition channel? Prove the technology can scale? Establish that the economics of the business actually work?
Those are very different answers from simply hiring, building, or spending more.
If you can’t clearly explain how the next round of capital will make the company less uncertain, you may not yet know what the money is actually for.
Investors may not always describe their thinking this way, but at the earliest stages, much of what they’re evaluating is uncertainty.
Imagine two startups. Both have 10 customers.
On a pitch deck, those numbers look identical.
All 10 came through the founder’s personal relationships and network.
The traction is real, but an important question remains unanswered:
Can the company acquire customer #11, #12, and #20 without relying on the founder’s existing relationships?
Those 10 customers were acquired through a repeatable outbound process, with similar sales cycles, acquisition costs, and usage behavior.
Same number of customers.
Very different level of uncertainty.
Startup B has begun to demonstrate that customer acquisition may be repeatable. It hasn’t proven that the model will scale, but it has removed a layer of uncertainty that Startup A has not.
That distinction matters.
The same principle applies to revenue, retention, pricing, partnerships, and almost every other startup metric.
$100,000 in revenue can tell two completely different stories depending on where it came from, how it was generated, whether it can happen again, and what it cost to produce.
The number matters. But the story behind the number tells you how much uncertainty has actually been removed.
Here’s a simple idea I think more founders should consider:
If your biggest risk hasn’t changed in six months, you may not be progressing as much as you think.
A healthy early-stage startup should continuously retire old risks and uncover new ones.
The questions might evolve something like this:
1. Problem Risk
Does this problem actually exist, and is it important enough to solve?
2. Product Risk
Will someone actually use our solution?
3. Willingness-to-Pay Risk
Will someone pay for it?
4. Retention Risk
Will they keep using it and keep paying?
5. Acquisition Risk
Can we consistently find more customers like them?
6. Economics Risk
Can we acquire those customers at a cost that makes sense?
7. Scale Risk
Can we repeat and scale the process without breaking what already works?
The questions don’t disappear.
They evolve.
And that evolution is itself a form of progress.
The risk of “Does anyone actually want this?” eventually becomes “Can we acquire customers profitably?” Then perhaps “Can we scale this efficiently?”
Those are still risks, but they are better risks to have.
You’re not trying to build a company with zero uncertainty. That doesn’t exist.
You’re trying to replace existential uncertainties with increasingly manageable ones.
And if the biggest question facing your company today is fundamentally different from the biggest question you were trying to answer six months ago, there’s a good chance you’ve actually made progress.
Most startups operate from task lists:
Build the MVP
Launch the new feature
Hire a salesperson
Contact 50 investors
Run a marketing campaign
There’s nothing wrong with having a task list. You need one to execute.
But I’d encourage founders to create a second list alongside it:
What do we need to learn?
That changes how you think about the work.
Instead of simply writing:
Task: Interview 20 potential customers.
Add:
What we need to learn: Is this problem painful enough that customers are actively looking for a solution?
Instead of:
Task: Test a new pricing model.
Add:
What we need to learn: Will customers pay $200 per month, or does willingness to pay disappear above $100?
Instead of:
Task: Run an outbound campaign.
Add:
What we need to learn: Can we consistently generate qualified conversations with this customer segment outside our personal network?
Now the task has a purpose beyond simply being completed.
Your roadmap shouldn’t only describe what you plan to produce. It should also describe what you need to understand.
At the end of the month, don’t just ask:
“What did we get done?”
Ask:
“What do we understand now that we didn’t understand 30 days ago?”
That turns a traditional startup roadmap into a learning roadmap and gives you a much better way to determine whether all that activity actually moved the company forward.
Here’s a framework founders can use to turn the idea of removing uncertainty into an operating discipline over the next 30 days, 90 days, six months, and one year.
Objective: Find the assumptions that pose the greatest risk to your company.
Start by writing down the five biggest assumptions your company currently depends on.
For each one, answer three questions:
What do we believe?
What evidence do we currently have?
What happens if we’re wrong?
Then evaluate each assumption across two dimensions:
Uncertainty: How confident are we that this assumption is actually true?
Consequence: How damaging would it be if we were wrong?
The assumptions that are both highly uncertain and highly consequential should move to the top of your list.
For the top one or two, ask:
“What is the cheapest and fastest way to test whether we’re wrong?”
Your goal for the next 30 days isn’t simply to complete more tasks. It’s to reduce uncertainty around the assumptions that matter most.
Your 30-day question:
What did we learn this month that materially changed what we believe?
Objective: Create a system for turning evidence into action.
Over the next 90 days, begin tracking your assumptions and experiments systematically.
For every important assumption, classify it as:
Supported: We have meaningful evidence suggesting this is true.
Still uncertain: We don’t yet have enough evidence to reach a conclusion.
Wrong: The evidence suggests our original assumption was incorrect.
But don’t stop at what you learned.
Ask:
“What decision did we make because of what we learned?”
If your pricing assumption was wrong, did you change pricing?
If your customer assumption was wrong, did you change your target market?
If a distribution channel failed, did you stop investing in it?
If customers repeatedly asked for something unexpected, did you change the roadmap?
Learning without action doesn’t move the company forward.
The objective isn’t to prove that your original assumptions were correct. It’s to discover the truth quickly enough to do something about it.
Your 90-day question:
What have we proven or disproven, and what did we change because of it?
Objective: Determine whether isolated wins are becoming patterns.
By six months, your questions should begin shifting.
You’re no longer only asking whether something can happen.
You’re beginning to ask whether it can happen again.
Can you acquire another customer through the same channel?
Can you close another sale at a similar price?
Can another customer experience similar value?
Do customers continue using the product?
Are customers referring others?
Can someone other than the founder help drive the process?
Repeatability matters because it transforms isolated evidence into a pattern.
One customer may be an exception. Ten customers behaving similarly starts telling you something.
At this stage, you’re looking for evidence that parts of the business are beginning to work without requiring a completely new explanation every time.
If nothing is repeatable yet, that doesn’t automatically mean you’re failing. It may simply mean you’re still in discovery.
But be honest about where you are.
Knowing where you actually are is far more valuable than convincing yourself that you’re further along.
Your six-month question:
What have we made repeatable?
Objective: Determine whether you’ve built a fundamentally stronger and less uncertain company.
At the one-year mark, zoom out.
Of course, look at the traditional measures:
How much revenue did we generate?
How many customers did we acquire?
How much capital did we raise?
How much did the team grow?
What did we build?
But then ask a much more important question:
“How is this company fundamentally less risky than it was one year ago?”
Look at the evidence that exists today that didn’t exist 12 months ago.
Perhaps customers are paying.
Perhaps they’re staying.
Perhaps they’re referring others.
Perhaps you’ve discovered a repeatable acquisition channel.
Perhaps you now understand exactly who your customer is.
Perhaps your pricing has been validated.
Perhaps your technology has proven it can scale.
Or perhaps you discovered that your original idea was wrong and built something substantially better.
That last one counts too.
Progress doesn’t always mean proving yourself right.
Sometimes the most important progress comes from discovering that you were wrong before being wrong becomes expensive.
Your one-year question:
What do we know today that makes this company fundamentally less uncertain than it was 12 months ago?
30 Days: What don’t we know?
90 Days: What have we proven or disproven, and what did we change?
Six Months: What have we made repeatable?
One Year: How is the company fundamentally less risky?
That gives founders four very simple checkpoints throughout the year, while keeping all four tied directly to the central thesis of the article.Keep an Uncertainty Log
There’s one simple tool I’d recommend maintaining throughout this entire process:
There’s one simple tool I’d recommend maintaining throughout this entire process:
An Uncertainty Log.
Think of it as a living record of the assumptions your company has made, how you tested them, what you learned, and what changed as a result.
For every major assumption, document:
The assumption: What do we currently believe?
Why we believe it: What led us to this conclusion?
The risk: What happens if we’re wrong?
The test: How are we going to find out?
The evidence: What actually happened?
The conclusion: Was the assumption supported, disproven, or still uncertain?
The decision: What are we changing because of what we learned?
And here’s the important part:
Don’t delete the assumptions that turn out to be wrong.
Keep them.
A disproven assumption isn’t necessarily a failure. If discovering that you were wrong prevented you from spending the next six months building the wrong product, targeting the wrong customer, or pursuing the wrong market, that discovery may have been some of your most valuable progress.
Twelve months from now, your Uncertainty Log should tell the story of your company in a completely different way.
Not simply:
“Here’s everything we built.”
But:
“Here’s what we believed, here’s what we tested, here’s what we learned, and here’s how those lessons changed the company.”
Over time, you should be able to see your startup moving from assumptions to evidence, from belief to knowledge, and from existential risks toward increasingly manageable ones.
That record may ultimately tell you more about how far your startup has actually progressed than any list of features, hires, meetings, or milestones.
If you adopt this mindset, the way you measure progress begins to change.
You stop looking only at what you’ve built and start paying attention to what you’ve learned.
You stop measuring momentum only through launches, hires, meetings, features, revenue, or fundraising announcements and start asking whether the company itself is becoming less uncertain.
Over time, the questions evolve:
30 days: What don’t we know?
90 days: What have we proven or disproven?
Six months: What have we made repeatable?
One year: How is this company fundamentally less risky?
That’s a very different way to tell the story of a startup.
It’s not simply a highlight reel of everything you accomplished.
It’s the story of uncertainty turning into knowledge.
So here’s one habit I’d encourage every early-stage founder to adopt. Every 30 days, sit down with your team and ask:
“What do we know today that we didn’t know 30 days ago?”
Then ask the harder question:
“Which assumption could still kill this company if we’re wrong?”
The answer may tell you more about what you should work on next than your product roadmap, task list, or calendar ever could.
Because especially at the earliest stages, progress isn’t how much you’ve built. It’s how much uncertainty you’ve removed.
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