Put That Down, You Don't Need It (Part Two)
The Radical Act of Strategic Subtraction
Previously, we talked about how product managers become human Jenga towers, stacking commitments until collapse becomes inevitable. Today: the way out.
That's when I (re)discovered strategic subtraction, though I can't take credit for the concept. I learned it from the owner of a renowned design firm I had the honor of working for back in the day. He had this surfer vibe about life and design—minimalist, zen—while at the same time always delivering work that was utterly and completely satisfying. His idea of optimizing, whether for life or design, was removing things until it was just right. He was a disciple of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, always quoting that line about perfection being achieved not when there's nothing more to add, but when there's nothing more to take away.
Watching him work was like watching someone sculpt by removal. He'd look at a design, or a process, or even a conversation, and somehow have the confidence to begin reducing. Not dramatic, sweeping changes—just quiet, iterative, deliberate subtraction until what remained was exactly what was needed and nothing more.
It's the radical act of deliberately doing less so you can accomplish more. It's not about being lazy or uncommitted. It's about being ruthlessly honest about what actually matters and having the spine to say no to everything else.
Practicing Strategic Subtraction
Practicing it can often feel like career suicide. The CEO of the foodservice startup had requested a dashboard feature that would let him track seventeen different metrics in real-time. Instead of the usual "sure, we'll get that in the next sprint," I suggested maybe not. I asked him to walk me through the actual problem he was trying to solve.
Turns out, he needed to know one thing: which customers were most likely to churn based on ordering patterns. The seventeen-metric dashboard was his solution. The real solution was a single, well-designed alert system that took a third of the time to build and actually solved his problem.
But here's the thing about saying no: it's not just about protecting your own sanity (though that's important). It's about creating clarity for everyone around you. When you stop being the person who says yes to everything, you become the person who can be counted on to deliver the things that actually matter.
This is where most people get it backwards. They think saying no makes them difficult, uncooperative, not a team player. But the opposite is true. The person who says yes to everything is the one who's not playing for the team—they're playing for their own anxiety, their own need to be liked, their own inability to distinguish between what's urgent and what's important.
Signals Up and Down the Line
Every time you say yes to something trivial, you're broadcasting a message. To your team, you're saying their time is disposable. To your stakeholders, you're saying you can't distinguish between strategy and busy work. To your leadership, you're saying you don't understand what moves the business forward. And to yourself, you're saying your boundaries are just suggestions.
But when you start saying no—strategically, thoughtfully, with data to back it up—the signals change. Your team starts to trust that when you ask them to work on something, it's genuinely important. Your stakeholders begin to respect your judgment because you're not just a delivery mechanism; you're a strategic filter. Your leadership starts to see you as someone who understands the bigger picture, not just someone who can execute tasks.
And here's the part that took me years to understand: saying no creates opportunities for others. When you delegate that project you would have halfheartedly managed, you're giving someone else the chance to truly own it. When you delay that feature that's not quite ready, you're creating space for your team to do their best work instead of rushing toward mediocrity.
Jennifer's Transformation
I watched this play out with Jennifer, a PM at a very large retailer I used to work for. She aspired, unsuccessfully for a long time, to become a Senior PM. She was also the person who worked every weekend, responded to Campfire (look it up) messages at midnight, and had that particular brand of exhausted pride that comes from being indispensable in all the wrong ways.
Then she had her moment—sitting in the parking ramp eating a disfigured protein bar that had given itself over to the shape of its wrapper she'd kept in the center console of her Toyota Tercel between sobs before finally deciding to go home. She'd spent the entire day in meetings about work instead of actually doing any work, and the realization hit her that this wasn't sustainable, wasn't strategic, and certainly wasn't getting her promoted.
The next morning, she started saying no. Not to everything, but to the right things. The difference was immediate and a little unsettling for those of us who'd grown accustomed to her reflexive availability.
The Fear vs. The Reality
The biggest barrier to strategic subtraction isn't logistical—it's psychological. We're convinced that saying no will get us fired. But in my experience, the opposite is true. People get fired for failing to deliver results, not for being thoughtful about what they commit to.
I've seen more careers destroyed by overcommitment than underdelivery. The PM who promises everything and delivers nothing gets shown the door. The PM who carefully selects what to work on and then actually ships it gets promoted.
The key is measurement. When you can clearly articulate what you're working on, why it matters, and how you'll know if it's working, saying no becomes easy. It's not personal preference or laziness—it's resource optimization backed by data.
Next: Put That Down, You Don't Need It, Part Three: The Tools