I've noticed something interesting about the way I think about technology.
Sometimes, I get a gut feeling about how something should work, how a product could evolve, or how people's relationship with technology might change.
I don't always have a detailed explanation for it immediately. Sometimes, it's just an idea that feels worth exploring.
But I don't stop at the feeling.
I follow my intuition with verification.
It Starts With a Gut Feeling
Some ideas arrive before I have consciously analyzed every detail.
Before AI-assisted interviews became a widely discussed topic, I supported the idea that candidates should be allowed to use AI during interviews.
I had also explored the idea of modular, pluggable user interfaces before intelligent UIs became a more prominent area of interest.
And the concept of a second brain had caught my attention before I started noticing how popular personal knowledge management was becoming.
These experiences made me curious about my own thinking process.
How do I arrive at these ideas? Why do certain possibilities seem obvious to me before they become popular conversations?
I don't have a definitive answer.
I just know that I tend to question existing approaches and imagine how they could work differently.
Intuition Is the Starting Point, Not the Proof
I don't believe every gut feeling is correct.
An idea feeling right doesn't make it true. And thinking of something early doesn't automatically mean the idea is original or that it will succeed.
That's why verification matters to me.
When an idea catches my attention, I want to investigate it, understand the surrounding developments, and see whether there's a reasonable basis for believing it could happen.
My process is simple:
Intuition → Investigation → Verification → Prediction.
The intuition gives me a direction to explore. Verification helps me determine whether that direction deserves attention.
Sometimes the evidence supports the idea. Sometimes it changes my perspective.
That's part of the process.
I Think About What Could Exist, Not Just What Exists
As someone interested in building products, I naturally think about possibilities.
Could this workflow be simpler?
Could two existing technologies work better together?
What if we approached this problem from a completely different direction?
Could the interface adapt to the user's needs instead of forcing the user to adapt to the interface?
These questions often lead me toward ideas that aren't yet mainstream.
I suspect this comes partly from thinking about products as systems rather than isolated features. When you consider how technology, user behavior, and existing limitations interact, you start seeing alternative possibilities.
But seeing a possibility and making it useful are two very different things.
The real challenge is determining which possibilities deserve to become products.
Why I Want to Be Known as a Builder
I could spend my time publishing predictions and discussing what the future might look like.
But that's not the professional identity I want to cultivate.
I want to build.
I want to experiment with ideas, write code, explore architectures, create products, and discover what works by actually implementing it.
Predictions are interesting, but building gives those ideas a practical test.
A concept might sound compelling until you try to implement it. A product might appear unnecessary until someone uses it and discovers its value.
Execution introduces constraints that imagination alone cannot reveal.
That's why I want my work to speak louder than my predictions.
I'd rather demonstrate an idea through a working prototype than repeatedly explain why I think it matters.
Having Ideas Is Easy. Choosing What to Build Is Hard.
I have more ideas than I can realistically pursue.
Time is the constraint.
Every interesting possibility competes with the time required to investigate it, build it, and determine whether it solves a real problem.
I've realized that I don't need to execute every idea I have. I need to become better at identifying which ideas deserve my attention.
Some ideas belong in a notebook. Some deserve further investigation. A few might justify building a prototype.
And only a small number will be worth turning into actual products.
The goal isn't to chase every possibility. It's to develop the judgment to choose wisely.
So, How Do I Predict the Future?
I wouldn't claim to know the future.
What I can describe is how I approach possibilities before they become obvious to everyone around me.
I start with intuition. I investigate the idea. I look for evidence. I form a view about what might happen.
Sometimes that view may be early. Sometimes it may be wrong.
I'm interested in improving the process rather than pretending it's infallible.
Perhaps what we call predicting the future is sometimes simply recognizing a possibility early, understanding why it might matter, and being willing to investigate it before it becomes a mainstream conversation.
For me, the most interesting part isn't being right before other people.
It's discovering something worth building.
I don't want to be someone who merely talks about the future. I want to be someone who builds things that help shape it.
Top comments (1)
the building part is the only test that counts.