ALEX BROD.
Mar 2, 2026

The Accidental Cheesecake Factory

Why founders build products for everyone and end up speaking to no one — and what the identity trap behind it actually looks like.

4 min read
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Hunger drives people to The Cheesecake Factory. Nobody walks in expecting the best sourdough vegan pizza in town.

Speak to hunger and you fill the dining room. You also invite complaints from diners expecting a different experience.

The Cheesecake Factory succeeds as a deliberate choice. The founders designed a menu long enough to prevent group arguments. That model works.

You probably built a Cheesecake Factory by accident.

You engineered a robust product. It impresses people during live demos. Yet the prospect goes quiet. You blame the pricing or the follow-up cadence. You never blame the menu.

The Identity Trap

The immediate counterargument to narrowing your focus is always financial. Cutting features allegedly loses customers and shrinks the addressable market.

This logic is fear with a spreadsheet attached.

The data proves the opposite. Pendo's analysis of cloud software usage found that users rarely or never touch 80% of features in the average product. Across public cloud companies, that translates to $29.5 billion in R&D investment building things customers ignore. That wide feature set is a graveyard of engineering hours.

Identity drives this resistance. You spent years architecting something technically complex. Narrowing the scope feels like a betrayal of that craft. It suggests any junior developer could have coded the simplified version over a weekend. The complexity is proof you are serious. Letting go of it feels like letting go of who you've become.

Your engineering peers will look at the stripped-down product and ask, "That's it?"

Your peers respect complexity. Your customers only care about the single mechanism that solves their immediate problem. You cannot optimize for both audiences.

When Steve Jobs returned to Apple in 1997, the company was ninety days from bankruptcy and shipping fifteen desktop models. He killed 70% of the product line. Printers, peripherals, the Newton — gone. Four products remained, organized on a simple grid: consumer and pro, desktop and portable. Apple went from a $1 billion loss to a $309 million profit in one year. "I'm as proud of what we don't do," Jobs said, "as I am of what we do."

He removed features, and the market responded.

Funding a Leaky Bucket

Funding accelerates the crisis.

A fresh capital raise pays for a marketing team and new campaigns. Traffic and signups spike, creating the illusion of traction.

Good marketing aimed at the wrong audience simply funds your churn rate. Incompatible users arrive, half-solve their problem, and abandon the software. Acquiring those wrong-fit customers costs five to twenty-five times more than retaining the right ones. You are paying a premium to fill a bucket with holes.

The team interprets the churn as a product failure and codes more features to plug the perceived gaps. The menu grows. The positioning blurs further. The team assumes the product lacks utility, ignoring the reality that they attracted the wrong audience entirely.

By the time the board recognizes the crisis, the disease is two years old. CB Insights found that 42% of startups fail because there is no market need. Founders build products without identifying a specific buyer and asking who this is actually for. The rot started the day you decided not to decide.

The Pain is the New Grind

So what do you narrow to? Not a demographic. Not a market segment. A pain.

Waze founder Uri Levine titled his book Fall in Love with the Problem, Not the Solution for a reason. Name a specific problem using the exact language of the person experiencing it. The people carrying that pain will find you. They will explain exactly what they need.

AI makes building software nearly free. GitHub's research shows developers complete coding tasks 55% faster with AI tools. Anyone can ship code. The scarcity has shifted entirely to problem discovery. The work is identifying a sharp pain and describing it back with enough precision that the person experiencing it stops and thinks: that's me.

Superhuman understood this. Their product-market fit score started at 22% — below the threshold where growth becomes self-sustaining. They abandoned the broader market and narrowed their ICP, optimizing strictly for the users who already loved them. Four quarters later, that score hit 58%. They shrank the menu and the restaurant filled.

The pain is the new grind.

Speak to the person who has been looking all week for exactly what you make. They will trust you before the demo even begins. That conversation is the work.

Alex Brod

Alex Brod

Brand strategist with 13 years in marketing. Helped 60+ founders excavate their core conviction into strategy that holds. I share insights at the intersection of founder psychology and brand.

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