Originally sent as "a track record that nobody knows" to the From operator to owner newsletter.
I was on a call this week with a senior PM at an AI company.
Fifteen years in tech. Started as a developer, moved into product. PhD. Has been CEO of a software company. Worked on a product used by hundreds of millions of people, where he grew revenue 25% in seven months through conversion optimisation alone.
He has a niche, a methodology, and the results to prove it works.
About twenty minutes into the call, he started describing what he'd build if he could. A consulting practice around PLG conversion: the specific, unglamorous, highly valuable work of turning free users into paying ones. He knows exactly which levers to pull. He's pulled them before, with real numbers on the other side.
He talked about it with a particular kind of energy. The kind that shows up when someone has been thinking about something for a long time but rarely gets to say it out loud.
Then he told me: "I can't go on LinkedIn. My employer would see it."
He wasn't wrong about the risk. His current role is solid. The company is growing. He likes the work. He's not ready to leave. And yet there was something in the way he said it. Resigned more than decided. He'd accepted it as a given without questioning it.
The waiting is the decision
I've had versions of this conversation more times than I can count. The person on the other end is usually good at what they do. Often very good. And at some point, without fully realising it, they've landed on a conclusion: now isn't the right time. They'll start when the role stabilises, or when they leave, or when they have more time, or when something external finally gives them permission.
The expertise doesn't compound while you wait. The audience doesn't build itself. And the version of you who's been in rooms most people never get into, who's seen problems at scale and knows how to solve them, is sitting on something that has a shelf life.
The LinkedIn constraint is one detail. He already knows what he wants to build, he knows his niche, and he has the results to back it up. The gap between that and actually starting is smaller than he thinks.
There are ways to start that don't require announcing anything or risking what you've built. A newsletter. A small community. A few conversations with the right people. Visibility that grows slowly.
What I've seen move people, more than anything, is the slow realisation that the waiting itself has been the decision. Every year that passes is a year the audience didn't grow, the niche didn't get established, the work didn't start generating anything.
If you're sitting on a track record you haven't figured out how to use yet, the guide on what to sell after tech is where I'd start.
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