Growth Starts With the Question You’re Not Asking

There's a scene that plays out in boardrooms everywhere.

A team presents findings from a new customer research study—a study that cost a small fortune. But as the presentation ends, a quiet frustration settles over the room. The report didn’t reveal anything new. The "insights" felt generic, and the recommendations didn’t lead to clear actions.

The company is no closer to gaining an edge than it was before.

This happens because most companies are asking the wrong kinds of questions.

The Power of a "Big Question"

Most leaders are experts at asking small, tactical questions. They ask customers, "How can we improve our product?" and customers respond with a wish list: make it cheaper, faster, add this button, change that color.

This feedback loop leads to incremental tweaks, but it almost never leads to a breakthrough.

The main flaw in this approach is that customers often can’t imagine solutions that don’t exist yet. Ask them what they want, and they'll likely picture a better version of what they know—a "faster horse," as the saying goes. Relying on customers to invent the future for you is a trap that keeps companies stuck.

The innovator’s job is not to ask customers for solutions, but to interpret their underlying problems.

That’s where the "Big Question" comes in. It's a strategic inquiry that acts as a compass for your entire effort.

A "Big Question" isn't something you ask a customer directly. It's a question you ask yourselves to force a shift in perspective. It moves the focus from the product's features to the customer's world. It aims to grasp their context, frustrations, and the true problem they face.

When you start with a Big Question, you stop asking for a wish list and start digging for foundational insights. You find the problem behind the problem. And that's where real growth is found.

Airbnb: From Cereal Boxes to a Real Solution

In 2008, the founders of Airbnb were broke and in debt. They even lived on leftover Cap'n McCain's novelty cereal, which they had made to earn some quick cash.

Their idea, a website for renting airbeds in people's homes, wasn't working.

The founders' initial strategy was to solve a simple problem: a massive shortage of rooms when big events came to town. They first noticed it when a local design conference sold out all the hotels in San Francisco.

When they launched their "airbed and breakfast" site at SXSW, they got just two bookings. One was from Brian Chesky, one of the founders.

Their solution wasn't working, and investors thought they were nuts. As one told them, "People are willing to stay at a stranger's house? Why!? Do they need help?”

Their turning point came when they got accepted into the Y-Combinator program. Paul Graham, the program's founder, offered some unusual advice: "It's better to have 100 people love you than 1 million who sort of like you." He told them to stop trying to code their way out of problems and go meet their few existing users in person.

This led them to a bigger, more urgent question: "Why are people not booking the listings we already have?"

Flying to New York City every weekend, the founders met with their hosts and saw the problem firsthand. It wasn't about price or website features. The real problem was trust. The amateur photos hosts took were dark and blurry. They showed toilet seats up and dishes in the sink. These low-quality images didn't make potential guests feel safe enough to book a stay in a stranger's home.

The assumed problem was logistical (a lack of rooms). The real problem was emotional (I don't trust this).

So they did something that didn't scale. They rented a professional camera. Then, they went door-to-door, taking stunning photos of their hosts' apartments for free. The results were immediate. Weekly revenue doubled from $200 to $400, and they began to see real growth for the first time.

They had stopped trying to solve an imaginary problem and had started to solve the real one.

P&G: The Scent of a Ritual

When P&G first launched Febreze, it was a technological marvel designed to solve a clear problem: bad smells. They created ads showing people using the spray to get rid of cigarette or pet odors.

But the product failed to sell.

The assumed problem was, "People have embarrassing smells they want to eliminate." Researchers found that in smelly homes, the people who needed Febreze most were used to the odors. The cue that was supposed to trigger the habit was invisible to them.

So the researchers reframed their inquiry around a much bigger question: "What role does 'scent' play in our customers' cleaning routines?".

After hours of watching videotapes, they saw that people often smiled, stretched, or admired their work after cleaning. It made them feel relaxed and happy. The real problem wasn't a bad smell they wanted to remove; it was a lack of a satisfying reward to signal the end of the cleaning ritual.

P&G repositioned Febreze as the finishing touch—a light, fresh scent to spray after you’ve cleaned.

It became the reward instead of the cover-up.

The brand went from a failure to a billion-dollar success by discovering the problem behind the problem.

The Milkshake Dilemma

A fast-food chain wanted to improve milkshake sales. They brought in customers and peppered them with questions: "Chunkier? Chewier? Chocolatier?".

They implemented the feedback. Nothing changed.

The assumed problem was, "Our milkshakes aren't good enough." The main issue, as Harvard professor Clayton Christensen and his team found, was not the milkshake. They observed customers for 18 hours. They discovered that nearly half of the milkshakes sold were before 9:00 a.m., mostly to commuters who were driving alone.

Christensen chose to view the purchase in a new way. Instead of seeing it as a product, he saw it as something the customer was "hiring" to complete a specific "job." So, his team began asking a strange question:

Customers had a hard time answering at first, until researchers probed on what else they might have "hired" instead. The answers revealed the real problem was the commute. It was long and boring.

These customers needed something to make the drive more interesting and keep them full until lunch. A banana was gone too quickly. A bagel was too dry and messy. But a thick milkshake took a long time to drink and was substantial enough to do the job perfectly.

The milkshake wasn't competing against other milkshakes. It competed against bananas, bagels, and boredom. By focusing on the real problem—the commute—the company could innovate in ways that truly mattered.

How to Find Your Big Question

If your business feels stuck, it's likely you're focusing on the wrong problem. To find the real one, you have to dig deeper than feature requests.

Ask these questions to guide your thinking:

• What is the customer's real frustration? Go beyond their suggestions for your product. What is the underlying struggle in their life that they are trying to solve? Talk to them about their day, their challenges, and their goals.

• What workarounds are they using? When people put together imperfect fixes, they reveal a lot about their actual problem. The customer using tape to fix a design flaw is telling you more than any survey ever could.

• What are they trying to avoid? Often, the most powerful problems are things people don't want to do. A parent buying a quick meal isn’t just feeding their child. They want to avoid the guilt and stress of a complicated dinner routine.

• What are the emotional and social dimensions? The customer buying a new suit isn't just buying clothes. They are buying confidence for a big interview. If you only solve the functional problem, you're missing the most important part.

The goal isn't a better product. It's a deeper understanding of the people you serve. When you solve their real problem, growth becomes the natural result.