Hana, thanks for making time. This is exploratory — I want to understand how you think. When are you at your best?
When I'm handed something fuzzy and expected to make it real. Give me 'we need to grow somewhere new' and let me turn it into a validated, prototyped opportunity. The blank, ambiguous front of a problem is exactly where I come alive rather than freeze.
What is it about ambiguity that suits you?
Most people want the question answered for them; I'd rather define the question. I trust that if I talk to enough real users and build enough scrappy prototypes, the right problem will surface. Ambiguity feels like room to work, not a threat.
Take me into a project where that really showed.
A client told me they were 'losing younger customers' and wanted a cooler product. I resisted just redesigning the product and went to talk to the customers who'd churned instead. The brief assumed the answer, and I wasn't convinced.
What did you find?
The product was fine; onboarding was brutal. Young users bounced in the first ten minutes and never saw the value. The real problem was a first-run experience, not the product itself. That reframe changed everything downstream.
How did you land that with a client who wanted something else?
I didn't argue — I showed them recordings of five users rage-quitting the signup. You can't unsee that. Then I gave them a prototype of a fixed flow with early results. The evidence reframed it for them; I just made the reality impossible to ignore.
You have both design and an MBA. How do those two sides interact for you?
Design keeps me honest about the human problem; the MBA keeps me honest about whether it's a business. I can run the discovery interviews and then build the P&L. A lot of people do one well; my edge is refusing to separate desirability from viability.
Which of the two do you lean on more naturally?
Discovery is my instinct — I default to talking to users. The business rigor is more learned discipline, and I sometimes have to force myself to do the unglamorous financial modeling before I fall for an idea. I know that about myself and I compensate.
How do you decide when to kill an idea you like?
I pre-commit to a kill criterion before I get attached — 'if fewer than X users do Y, we stop'. Deciding the bar in advance protects me from my own optimism. Without that, I'll rationalize keeping something alive because I love it.
Have you actually killed something that way?
Yes — a marketplace concept I was in love with. The prototype got warm reactions but almost no one completed the core action. It missed the bar I'd set, so I killed it. Painful, but the discipline was the whole point.
You're clearly drawn to founder-type problems. Why are you unsure about actually founding?
I love the founder's problem — ambiguity, ownership, building from nothing. What I don't love is the isolation and betting my entire livelihood on one idea. It's not the work that scares me; it's doing it utterly alone with no floor under me.
So what's the alternative you're testing?
An internal 'founder with a safety net' — leading a small zero-to-one unit inside a bigger company. I'd get the autonomy and the messy mandate, but a team, a budget, and colleagues. I'm honestly here to test whether that's a real fit or a fantasy.
What would make that role fail for you, if you're honest?
If the 'innovation unit' were theater — if leadership wanted the language of experimentation but killed anything that threatened the core business. I'd rather have a real budget and permission to fail than a shiny lab that ships slideware to look modern.
How do you work with a team when you're leading discovery?
I pull people out of their function and into the customer's reality. My favorite move is putting an engineer and a finance person in the same user interview — they hear the same pain and stop arguing abstractly. Shared exposure aligns a team faster than any deck.
How do you handle a senior stakeholder who resists your findings?
I get curious about what they're protecting. Resistance is usually a real fear — a metric they own, a bet they made. If I address that fear directly and show the new path doesn't humiliate them, they come along. Winning isn't proving them wrong.
Tell me about a time you were wrong about a customer.
I assumed a group of users wanted more features; they actually wanted fewer, simpler ones and felt overwhelmed. My whole hypothesis was backwards. I'd projected what I'd want onto them. Now I hold my hypotheses much more loosely going into interviews.
How do you keep from falling in love with your own reframes?
I make my hypothesis falsifiable and then genuinely try to break it. I ask 'what would I have to see to be wrong', and go look for exactly that. If I only seek confirmation, I'm a consultant selling a story, not someone finding the truth.
What energizes you day to day?
Talking to real people about their problems and then quickly making something they can react to. The loop of learn, build, test, learn again — that's the drug. I lose all sense of time when I'm in a good discovery-and-prototype rhythm.
And what drains you?
Endless alignment meetings that produce documents instead of decisions, and organizations that treat a prototype as a threat rather than a question. Bureaucracy that punishes trying things is where I wilt fastest. I need permission to make and break things.
How structured or improvisational are you when you run a project?
Structured about the process, improvisational about the content. I'll insist on a clear discovery-to-prototype rhythm, but within it I follow whatever the users reveal. The scaffolding gives me freedom; without a frame, exploration just becomes wandering.
How do you measure whether a discovery effort succeeded?
By validated learning and real user behavior, not by how polished the output looks. A killed idea backed by clear evidence is a success to me. Slideware that impresses executives but never touches a customer is failure dressed up as progress.
Where do you see AI in this kind of work?
It's fantastic for synthesizing interviews, generating prototype variations, and stress-testing a business case fast. I already use it to compress the grunt work of discovery. It makes the build-test loop tighter, which is exactly where the value is.
What can't it do for you?
It can't sit across from a frustrated customer and feel which pain is worth a company's bet. And it can't navigate the politics of getting a skeptical executive to greenlight a risky idea. The human judgment and persuasion stay firmly mine.
How do you keep growing your own skills?
I deliberately do the part I'm weakest at. Since business rigor is my learned side, I take on the financial modeling myself rather than delegating it. I improve fastest by refusing to hide behind the skills that already come easily.
What kind of leader do you want to be?
The kind who gives a small team a real problem, real cover to fail, and then gets out of the way while keeping them honest with evidence. I want to be the safety net for others that I wish existed for me as a would-be founder.
How do you structure your time inside a messy discovery project?
I timebox the divergent phase hard, because exploration will expand to fill any space you give it. A week to go wide, then I force convergence to a hypothesis even if it's uncomfortable. Without that discipline, discovery becomes a lovely, endless excuse to never decide.
How do you handle a stakeholder who wants a decision now and has no patience for discovery?
I meet the urgency instead of fighting it — I'll run a two-day guerrilla version and bring back something real fast. Showing that even quick discovery changes the answer usually earns me room for the deeper version. Refusing to move just gets you cut out.
Tell me about a time your business case turned out wrong.
I once built a rosy model for an opportunity, and my growth assumption was fantasy — I'd anchored on a best case because I wanted the idea to work. It fell apart under scrutiny. Now I stress-test my own numbers as hard as I'd test someone else's.
How do you know when to stop exploring and commit?
When new interviews stop surprising me — when I can predict what the next person will say, the discovery has done its job. That saturation point is my signal. Staying past it is just fear of committing dressed up as thoroughness, and I've learned to catch that.
Tell me about a time you took initiative nobody asked for.
On one engagement I noticed the client's teams didn't talk to each other, so unprompted I ran a joint session that surfaced a shared problem no one owned. It wasn't in the scope, but it became the most valuable thing we did. I couldn't help connecting the dots.
What do people misunderstand about you?
That the design-thinking side means I'm all sticky notes and no rigor. The MBA half is just as real — I'll happily build the P&L that kills my own beautiful idea. People underestimate how numbers-driven I am until I ruin their favorite concept with a spreadsheet.
Is there a value you won't compromise on?
Intellectual honesty about the evidence. I won't dress up a weak validation as strong to keep a project alive or please a client. The whole value of discovery is telling the truth about what customers actually want. Faking that makes me a very expensive yes-man.
What does great collaboration feel like to you?
When people from totally different functions sit in the same customer interview and come out aligned without a fight, because they heard the same pain. My favorite thing is dissolving a turf war by putting everyone in front of the actual user. Reality is the great mediator.
How do you handle the emotional side of killing an idea you loved?
I grieve it briefly and honestly — pretending I'm not attached just makes me sneak it back in. Then I remind myself that killing it cleanly frees the team and the budget for a better bet. A pre-set kill criterion turns a heartbreak into just following the rule.
What skill are you deliberately building right now?
Organizational navigation — the politics of getting a risky idea funded inside a big company. My discovery skills are strong; my ability to shepherd something past skeptical executives is the muscle I most need for the internal-founder role. I'm practicing it deliberately on every engagement.
If this ideal internal-founder role existed and went brilliantly for two years, what would be true?
I'd have taken at least one fuzzy mandate to a validated, scaling opportunity, and killed several others cleanly without drama. Leadership would trust the unit's judgment enough to fund real bets. And I'd finally know whether I'm a founder — because I'd have done the work without the isolation, and seen how I actually felt.