How I Learned to Stop Seeking Approval and Start Demanding Proof

I used to think validation was a numbers game. Get enough people to say "That's a cool idea!" and you were golden. I’d corner friends, poll colleagues, and practically beg my family for a thumbs-up. Each positive comment was another brick in the road to what I thought was inevitable success.
Then I launched a product to the sound of crickets and realized something: I had been lied to. And I was the one asking for the lies.
The problem wasn't my idea. It was that I was seeking approval, not evidence.
The Problem with "Validation"
Most advice about idea validation is just a fancy way of asking for a pat on the head. You’re taught to seek "feedback," which usually means asking someone if they like your brilliant solution. But people are polite. They don’t want to crush your dreams. They want to be encouraging.
The real issue isn’t that your friends are liars—it’s that "Do you like my idea?" is a useless question. As one brutally honest founder put it, people will tell you what you want to hear because they like you, not because they’ll ever use your product. They can imagine someone using it, just not them.
This leads to a feedback loop of false positives. You build based on polite nods and end up with a product nobody needs and a bank account full of zeroes.
What Actually Works: Three Tests That Don't Lie
Instead of asking for opinions, you need to ask for commitments. Here are three tests that separate the tire-kickers from the true believers.
1. The Problem Interview (Not a Pitch)
Before you even whisper your idea, you need to understand the problem you think you're solving. Shut up about your solution and ask people about their lives.
I’ve seen founders have breakthrough moments by asking questions like:
"Walk me through the last time you had to do [the task my product helps with]. What sucked about it?"
"What are you using for this now? What do you hate about it?"
"Have you ever tried to find a better way to do this? What happened?"
You're listening for emotion. Words like "hate," "annoying," or "time-suck" are gold. If they just shrug and say "Yeah, it's okay, I guess," your idea is dead on arrival.
The key: Find the pain first. A great solution to a minor inconvenience is a hobby, not a business.
2. The Email Test (The First Real Signal)
An opinion is free. An email address is a small cost. This is your first real test of intent. The goal is to build a "smoke test"—a simple landing page for a product that doesn't exist yet.
Pages that work have:
A headline about the outcome, not the features. "Stop Wasting Hours in Scheduling Hell" beats "Our AI-Powered Scheduling Platform" every time.
A single call to action. One button: "Join the Private Beta" or "Get Early Access."
One field: Email. That's it.
Drive a hundred targeted people to that page. If you get 10-15 signups, you're onto something. If you get 2, you don’t have an idea problem, you have a no-idea problem.
The key: An email is the first proof that someone is willing to be bothered about this problem again.
3. The Wallet Test (The Ultimate Truth)
This is the one that separates founders from dreamers. Ask for money. Not a lot. It can be $1. But asking for a financial commitment is the moment of truth.
Good examples:
"Pre-order for $1 to be the first to get access."
"Sign this (non-binding) letter of intent saying you’d use this."
"Pay $5 for a lifetime 'founding member' deal."
As one founder said, "Market action is the only truth. Everything else is just noise." When someone pulls out their credit card for a product that is just a landing page and a promise, you’ve found real validation.
The key: A transaction, no matter how small, is a thousand times more valuable than a compliment.
The Real Rules of Validation
Every idea is different, but here’s what actually matters:
Read the room. Find the communities where your potential customers hang out—subreddits, Slack groups, forums. Don't just show up and drop a link. Participate. Answer questions. Be useful first.
Ask for feedback on the problem, not the solution. Post something like: "Hey, I'm exploring solutions for [painful problem]. For those who deal with this, what's the most frustrating part?" This is how you start real conversations.
Make your test easy to pass (or fail). Your landing page should be simple. Your ask should be clear. You want a clean signal, not confusing data.
Accept that you're probably wrong. Your goal isn't to prove your idea is brilliant. It's to try and kill your idea as quickly and cheaply as possible. A good idea will survive the assault.
What This Actually Looks Like
Here's a real example from my own screw-ups:
I was convinced I had a game-changing idea for a project management tool. I built a slick landing page, described the features, and posted it in a few startup groups. I drove about 300 clicks.
Result: 4 email signups. A soul-crushing 1.3% conversion rate. My brilliant idea was a dud. It hurt. But it saved me six months of coding something nobody wanted. That "failure" was the most valuable lesson I've learned.
The Long Game
Validation isn't a one-time event you check off a list. It's about consistently closing the gap between what you think people want and what they're actually willing to commit to.
This takes time. It’s a series of small, cheap experiments that de-risk your idea one step at a time. The payoff is real: you end up building something the market has already told you it will pay for.
Getting Started (Without the Frameworks)
Pick 5 people you believe have the problem you're solving.
Spend a week just talking to them about their work. Do not mention your idea.
Build a one-page smoke test. Use Carrd. It'll take you two hours.
Share it in one niche community, framed as a question about the problem.
Look at the numbers with brutal honesty.
That’s it. No "validation matrix." No "idea funnels." Just finding out if a real pain exists and if someone is willing to do something about it.
The Bottom Line
Validation works when it doesn’t feel like a compliment. It works when you get a tangible commitment—an email, an hour of someone's time, or a dollar from their wallet.
The best validation isn’t hearing someone say, "Wow, that's a great idea." It's the quiet thrill of seeing a notification for a pre-order on a product that, until that moment, only existed in your head.
And that's not an opinion you can argue with - it's proof.