Yesterday I wrote about a free event we were throwing which cost $100 to attend, but the full $100 was refunded at the door if you showed up. I said I'd share the results.
Ok, so the event was this morning. It went incredibly well.
Here are those results:
55 people paid $100 to attend. 50 of those people showed up. That's a 90% show-rate, which is exceptionally high for a free event. We will donate the $500 from no-shows.
The last event we threw didn't have the $100 price of admission. 84 people said they'd attend that free event, but only 38 actually showed up. That's only a 45% show-rate.
So this latest event had fewer absolute signups (55 vs. 84), but more people actually attended (50 vs. 38). And the show-rate was double (90% vs 45%). I'd say it's a win for everyone.
Yes small sample sizes here, but plenty of signal. We'll do it again at the next Breakfast with Basecamp event. And bottom line: It's just fun to give out $100 bills at the doors. Lots of smiles and an unusual shared experience is a great way to start the day.
$5300 in $100s please. That's what we said at the bank this morning.
See, whenever you have a free IRL event, you tend to get a lot of no-shows. Plenty of people sign up and RSVP, but ultimately far fewer show up.
This isn't a big deal if you have unlimited space and anyone can just show, but if you want to have an event at a small venue, and you can only host, say, 80 people, you need to have a sense of how many are coming. That's why you require signup, that's why you require RSVPs.
But still, many don't show. We've run into this with our own free events over the years. You "sell out" of space, but you end up with 15 extra seats because people don't show. Those seats could have been filled with people who really wanted to be there. We could charge, which might help, but we really want this to be a free event.
So what to do? How can we find a way to bridge the gap between who says they'll show, and who will really show? How do we shrink the delta?
We're trying something tomorrow.
Tomorrow we have a Breakfast with Basecamp IRL event in Chicago. It's entirely free. As long as you show up.
When you register you're charged $100. And if you show up, you get a crisp $100 bill at the door. So you're made whole, it's entirely free. If you don't show, you forfeit your $100. It costs you money not to be there. A little incentive.
This isn't a new idea. Some restaurants have been charging for reservations, essentially asking you put down a deposit which can be applied to the meal if you show. If not, you lose the deposit.
So we're doing the same thing, except for a free event, and rather than apply the deposit to the meal or ticket price (which we don't have), we just literally hand you back the cost of admission, with a smile.
I'm really curious to see if it works. I'll comment back with the no-show rate and compare it to our last event where we didn't do this at all.
The speed at which a product is developed doesn't inherently make the product better or worse. The number of commits doesn't make the product better or worse. The number of people or agents working on it doesn't make it better or worse. The number of hours you’re pouring into it doesn’t make it better or worse. Working on a weekend, or late into the evening, doesn’t make it better or worse. Talking about these things sounds like it’s talking about the product, but it’s not talking about the product.
Those are all development metrics and styles of work. They don't speak to the product itself. They're all back of the house. Important to those making the work, but not inherently important to the people using the work.
Development metrics and style say nothing about fit. They say nothing about quality. They say nothing about clarity. They say nothing about usability. They say nothing about utility. They say nothing about performance. They say nothing about how customers feel when they use your product.
It's like reviewing a restaurant by talking about how many cooks were in the kitchen, how long the shift lasted, how many orders they fired, or how late they stayed cleaning up. None of that tells you about the meal, the product, the customer’s experience.
Mistaking making for the thing you've made is like confusing the kitchen for the meal or the blueprint for the building. They're connected, but they're not the same thing. One of them matters a whole lot more than the other.
It'll exist. It already exists. Small consultants and big consulting firms have made custom software for years. It almost always sucks. It’s bloated, confusing, and because the client pays, it’s built in all the wrong ways.
Who’s excited about bespoke software? Software makers! Of course they're excited about building bespoke software — that's what they do. X is full of them. Your feed is full of people who love making software talking about making software. Of course they’re excited about the revolution. Echo, echo, echo...
Most people don’t like computers. Nobody in tech wants to say that out loud. People tolerate computers. They use them because they have to. Given the choice, most would rather not think about them at all.
So when someone suggests that AI means everyone will build their own custom tools, ask who "everyone" is. The three-person accounting firm drowning in client paperwork? They want the paperwork gone, not a new system to maintain. The regional logistics company with 40 trucks? They want the routes optimized, not Joe spouting off about this new system he’s been messing around with. The law firm billing 70-hour weeks? They want leverage on their time, not a software project to design.
They don’t hate technology. But building and maintaining their own critical systems isn’t their wheelhouse, regardless of how much faster and easier it’s become. It's another job on top of the job.
Will these people use AI? Absolutely, for all sorts of things. Will some outliers go deep and build real custom systems? Sure, but they're almost always people who already had some pull toward software. The curiosity was already there. They were dabblers before.
Giving everyone access to software building tools doesn't mean everyone becomes a builder. A powerful excavator doesn't turn a homeowner into a contractor. Most people just want the hole dug. They don’t want the responsibility either.
A few weeks ago I sat down with David Senra (of the outstanding Founders podcast) to record an interview for his new podcast. It just came out yesterday.
We talked for about two-and-a-half hours and hit on all sorts of topics including:
Build Products for Yourself
Low Costs, Small Company, Enough Customers
Your Only Competition Is Your Costs
How 37signals Stays Lean
Rewriting Basecamp & Fighting Software Bloat
Why "Enough" Beats Growth
Product People vs. Business Shells
The "So What?" Mindset
Staying Close to Customers
The Reward for Good Work Is More Work
Six-Week Horizons & Compounding Decisions
Anti-Fragile Business With Tiny Units
Galápagos Product Design
Radical Authenticity Over Marketing Tricks
Rick Rubin & Intuition-Driven Building
Lightning in a Bottle & Knowing When to Stop
Defining Success: Pride in the Work
Independence Through Profitability
When Tech Adds Friction Instead of Value
Ruthless Editing & What Never Changes
Longevity as the Moat
Building by Intuition
I throughly enjoyed the conversation. It's probably the one that most accurately captures my current lens on business and life.
...and of course wherever you get your podcasts. Look for the podcast called "David Senra". And don't just listen to my episode — David has interviewed a bunch of wonderful, insightful people. David is worth listening to.
The original Cuisinart was peak interface/appliance design.
Two perfect paddle buttons.
One for ON that catches and stays down for continual operation.
And one for PULSE/OFF that does exactly what it says. It doesn't stay down, it returns to reset when you let go. Hold it down as long as you want to pulse. Let go and it stops. Or just push it down to disengage ON, and turn it off.
The description may sound a bit convoluted because of the dual purpose PULSE/OFF button, but when you use it it's absolutely obvious. And couldn't be better.
Big flat toggle buttons under satisfying tension. Clear affordances. You push them down, not in. One click catches, one doesn't. You can use them with bare hands, oven mitts, fingers coated in slippery whatever. Doesn't matter. Plenty of surface area.
Outstanding design. It's all been downhill from there.
