Most often, PMs rely increasingly on data because you can always safely explain the rationale for doing something. However, if you're going to bet big on something new you came up with, that's where you stand alone.
While data and analytics help us improve existing ideas, finding breakthroughs requires something different - ingenuity & orthogonal thinking. Every big startup was built on these breakthroughs.
Think of it like exploring unchartered territory. Analytics is your guide in familiar spaces, helping you make solid decisions within what you know. But when you reach that point - where each improvement yields smaller returns - you realize that what got you here won't get you any further.
I've seen that significant improvements rarely come from spreadsheets alone. They emerge when we take time to pause and question what we're doing, imagining new approaches rather than optimizing old ones. Interesting work happens when we combine careful analysis with creative exploration. That's where we find those orthogonal ideas - the ones that don't just improve what exists but create something new.
But here's what I've learned about creating something new: it demands more than just good ideas. It requires the courage to look foolish, the conviction to persist when others doubt, and most importantly, the willingness to fail publicly.
I see this pattern repeatedly in product teams. In quiet conversations and late-night discussions, people often share unconventional ideas. But these ideas rarely see the light of day. Not because they lack merit but because we've built sophisticated defensive mechanisms against failure.
The truth is, most of us are quite capable of coming up with great ideas. The real barrier isn't ideation - it's our relationship with failure. We've mastered the art of "failing safe" - making small, calculated mistakes that won't raise eyebrows. But true innovation demands a different kind of failure - the kind that makes you vulnerable and challenges your identity as a "successful" builder.
I've had to learn this lesson repeatedly: every significant breakthrough in my career came wrapped in the possibility of public failure. Each time I chose the safer path, I also chose mediocrity.
The most valuable skill I'm still learning is to constantly remind myself when I'm leaning towards avoiding failure. Because sometimes, the willingness to look foolish is the only thing standing between a good idea and a great one.