Do you need all those features? How to strip your project down to an MVP.

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January 8th, 2026, posted in for_founders
by Miruna

Most products don’t fail because they ship too few features, they fail because they ship too many. It’s the quiet trap teams fall into: the belief that one more feature will make the product more competitive, more impressive, more “complete.”

 

This is the feature illusion. Founders look at competitors’ long roadmaps and assume value comes from volume. Stakeholders worry a simple product will look weak. Teams convince themselves every idea is essential, even before the core problem is validated.

 

But more features don’t create clarity; they create noise. The real question isn’t “What else can we add?” It’s: “What’s the smallest version of this product that truly matters?”

 

This article is about learning how to strip your idea down to a meaningful, focused MVP, not by cutting corners, but by removing distractions so the core value can shine.

 

Why we overbuild: the psychology behind extra features

If most teams know simplicity works, why do so many products still end up bloated? Because adding features feels comforting, and removing them feels like stepping into the unknown.

 

Founders often look at established competitors and think, “We need all of that too, or users won’t take us seriously.” Investors sometimes expect a level of polish that early-stage teams aren’t ready for, so features get added to create the illusion of maturity. And then there’s classic founder bias: once you’ve imagined a feature, it becomes emotionally difficult to let it go. Every idea feels essential when it’s yours.

 

The irony is that these instincts, while natural, pull teams away from validation and toward risk. A new calendar app, for example, doesn’t need collaboration tools, color-coding, AI suggestions, and integrations on day one. Those things feel impressive, but they distract from answering the most important question: Do people even want a new calendar app?

 

Overbuilding comes with real costs. Every feature increases development time, testing effort, design complexity, and overall budget. It stretches the roadmap, delays launch, and, most importantly, postpones learning. You might spend six months building something rich and sophisticated, only to discover the core idea was never compelling in the first place.

 

More features don’t protect you from failure. They just make it more expensive.



What an MVP actually is (and isn’t)

Before you can strip anything down, you need to understand what the minimum viable product, the MVP, is supposed to accomplish. Too many teams treat it as a “lite” version of the final product, like a diet app with half the screens missing or an e-commerce site with fewer payment options. But an MVP was never meant to be a cheaper or smaller version of your future roadmap.

 

A true MVP is an experiment, not a draft.

Its purpose is simple: Deliver the smallest amount of real value needed to learn whether your idea is worth continuing.

For example:

  • Dropbox’s MVP was a short video that showed how the product would work, not an app.

  • Zappos’ MVP was one person buying shoes from stores and shipping them manually, not a full e-commerce backend.

  • Figma’s early MVP was a bare-bones collaborative canvas with almost no tools, just enough to test real-time editing.

None of these resembled the final polished product. But all of them validated something crucial.

And that’s what an MVP is not:

  • Not a collection of half-implemented features.

  • Not “Phase One” of your roadmap.

  • Not a product designed to impress stakeholders.

  • Not a functional demo of everything you hope to build.

A real MVP focuses on solving one core problem in the simplest, clearest way possible. If a feature doesn’t support that, even if it’s smart, cool, or strategically important later, it doesn’t belong.

 

Stripping down isn’t about removing value; it’s about exposing the beating heart of your idea. When you understand that, building an MVP becomes a process of sharpening, not shrinking.



How to identify the core value of your product

If you want to strip your product down without breaking it, you first need to know what its core actually is. Every product, no matter how complex, has a central promise, a single outcome your user cares most about. That core value becomes your compass. Anything that doesn’t point directly toward it is optional, negotiable, or simply noise.

 

Start by defining the primary problem your user is desperate to solve. Not the nice-to-have improvements. Not the long-term vision. The one pain point that made them search for a solution in the first place. For example, the first version of Dropbox didn’t need shared folders, granular permissions, or team dashboards. It only needed to prove one thing: “Files sync automatically across devices.” That was the core value. Everything else could wait.

 

Once you understand the core outcome, map the simplest possible path a user can take to reach it. That path is your real MVP. Advanced filters, AI insights, push notifications, customization settings, these may eventually elevate the experience, but they don’t create the experience. At the MVP stage, they’re just distractions.

 

Many founders are surprised by how small the core of their product really is. But that’s the point. When you clearly define the heart of your product, decisions become easier, scope becomes tighter, and the team gains instant alignment. Cutting features stops feeling like “losing something” and starts feeling like revealing the product’s true shape.

 

Practical ways to strip your product down without losing its soul

Removing features isn’t about lowering standards, it’s about sharpening focus. The trick is shifting from “How do we build more?” to “What does the user truly need to achieve success on day one?”

 

A simple method is to sort everything into three buckets:

 

1. Essentials:
Features without which the product wouldn’t make sense. For a ride-sharing app, that’s requesting a ride and matching with a driver. Not ratings, not ride history, not promo codes.

 

2. Enhancers:
They improve the experience but aren’t required to deliver the core value. Think of Spotify’s personalized playlists, delightful, but not required to play music.

 

3. Extras:
Ideas that sound great but don’t move the user closer to the primary outcome. These tend to sneak in disguised as “competitive advantages.”

 

The moment you ruthlessly categorize each feature, you can see what actually belongs in your MVP.

 

Another powerful approach is the first-time user test. Imagine someone interacting with your product for the very first time, what must be present for them to reach the “aha moment”? If a feature doesn’t help them achieve that initial win, it’s a future enhancement, not MVP material.

 

Take Notion as an example. It launched without templates, databases, API integrations, or team features. What mattered was a clean, flexible workspace. That single capability got users hooked long before the ecosystem evolved around it.

 

When in doubt, err on the side of simplicity. Early-stage users don’t want everything, they want clarity. And clarity is almost always the result of removing, not adding.

 

How to prioritize features without emotion getting in the way

Prioritizing features is often harder than coming up with them, and the reason is simple: ideas feel personal. A founder might become attached to a particular workflow, a designer might fall in love with an elegant interaction, and a developer might champion a technically impressive feature, even if none of these actually move the product closer to solving the user’s core problem. Emotion clouds judgment, turning every feature into a “must-have,” even when it isn’t.

 

To break out of that pattern, feature prioritization needs structure. One of the simplest and most reliable starting points is defining the “core job” your product must accomplish. Not the long-term vision, not the eventual roadmap, the job that justifies your product’s existence. Any feature that doesn’t directly help a user complete that job should automatically move down in priority, no matter how exciting it is internally.

 

From there, you can score features using criteria like user impact, effort required, and alignment with the core value proposition. The goal isn’t to build a perfect scoring system but to add an objective buffer between emotional attachment and product decisions.

 

Even better, involve real users early. Their priorities are shockingly grounded. While teams argue over AI, automation, and advanced dashboards, users often care about something as simple as “this saves me time” or “this helps me do my job without headaches.” When you let user needs, not founder enthusiasm, guide your decisions, stripping your product down stops feeling like a sacrifice and starts feeling like clarity.

 

A well-prioritized MVP isn’t the smallest version you can tolerate; it’s the smallest version that truly matters.

 

A real-world example: from a bloated idea to a testable MVP

Let’s imagine a founder with a big idea: a platform for personal trainers. Their initial concept looks like a mini universe, built-in scheduling, automated payments, high-quality video sessions, custom nutrition plans, AI workout generation, habit tracking, community forums, wearable integrations, leaderboards, progress dashboards, and an entire content library of exercises.

 

It sounds impressive… but it’s also the kind of scope that drains budgets, burns teams out, and delays launch for months or even years.

 

So let’s walk through how to strip it down into a real MVP.

 

Step 1: Identify the core value.
What is the essential job this platform must accomplish for users? For both trainers and clients, the core outcome is simple: trainers need to connect with clients and deliver paid sessions. Everything else, meal plans, automation, community features, only matters once this basic connection works.

 

Step 2: Define the smallest version of that core workflow.
Do trainers need built-in payments to start? No, they can invoice manually or link PayPal.
Do they need video calling infrastructure? No,  Zoom already exists.
Do they need tracking dashboards or nutrition planning tools? Definitely not on day one.

Suddenly, half the roadmap becomes optional.

 

Step 3: Create the simplest possible product that allows that connection to happen.
This might be a stripped-down marketplace with trainer profiles and a single “Request a Session” button. Or even lighter: a concierge MVP where clients submit a form, and the team manually matches them with trainers behind the scenes. It feels scrappy, and that’s the point. Scrappy helps you learn.

 

Step 4: Launch to learn, not to impress.
With this minimalist version, you can now observe how real people behave:

  • Do trainers care more about discovery or scheduling tools?

  • Do clients want video sessions, in-person bookings, or asynchronous programs?

  • Is payment friction actually a blocker or something users don’t mind handling manually?

You learn these things by watching what users do, not by guessing and building everything upfront.

 

What started as a 15-feature platform becomes a 2-week experiment. And ironically, this small MVP will teach you more about your market and your users than a perfectly polished, overbuilt version ever could.

 

This example reveals a simple truth: when you strip away the “nice-to-haves,” the real product finally becomes clear.

 

How to strip your product down without killing the vision

By the time teams reach feature debates, the real challenge isn’t dreaming up ideas, it’s letting go of them. Most founders try to simplify a product by starting with a giant feature list and trimming it down like a sculptor chipping at stone. But there’s a better, cleaner, far more honest method: start with nothing and force every feature to earn its place.

 

Begin with the core problem you’re solving. Not the solution you imagine, not the roadmap in your head, the fundamental pain point driving someone to seek your product out. Write it in one clear sentence. If it needs commas, caveats, or buzzwords, you’re already masking uncertainty with complexity.

 

Then define one meaningful outcome the user needs to achieve. Not a cluster of outcomes. Not a list. One. This single outcome becomes the backbone of your MVP and the lens for every decision that follows.

 

Next, outline the essential steps a user must take to reach that outcome. These aren’t features,  they’re actions. What must a user do, from the moment they land in your product to the moment they reach value? Those steps form the skeleton. Everything else, automation, customization, analytics, integrations, is muscle you add later, if the skeleton holds.

 

Now examine each step and challenge it relentlessly: “Is this required to deliver the promise of the product, or is it just convenient?”
That question alone will eliminate half your backlog, because convenience is the quickest way scope expands without meaningfully improving the outcome.

 

Finally, factor in the expectations of your target audience. Early adopters will tolerate rough edges as long as the core value works. But if you're building for a trust-sensitive market, finance, health, enterprise,  minimal functionality still needs polished execution. Stripping to an MVP isn’t about being sloppy; it’s about being intentional.

 

This framework doesn’t just reduce scope, it clarifies purpose. It transforms a sprawling, chaotic idea into a sharp, focused version of itself. And that clarity is what turns an overloaded concept into an MVP that actually learns, actually launches, and actually has a chance to succeed.

 

Less isn’t just “enough”, it’s strategic

When you strip away everything your product could include and focus only on what it must include, you’re not cutting corners, you’re cutting risk. Reducing a project to its core MVP isn’t about lowering ambition or playing it safe; it’s about giving your product the best chance to survive, learn, and evolve based on real-world insight instead of internal assumptions.

 

A leaner version of your product brings clarity. It forces you to articulate the problem you’re solving, identify the users who truly need it, and commit to solving it in the simplest, most effective way possible. Ironically, the less you ship initially, the more you learn: every user action becomes meaningful, every behavior pattern becomes clear, and every next step is grounded in evidence rather than guesswork.

 

The products that move fastest and grow strongest aren’t the ones packed with features, they’re the ones built with focus, intention, and the humility to ask, “What do we actually need right now?” Start smaller, validate sooner, and let the real world guide your next version, not the wishlist in your head.

 

If you want help stripping your idea down, defining the right MVP, or designing a product that’s simple, focused, and effective, reach out, we’ll help you build something that truly moves the needle.




About the author

Miruna

UI/UX designer, copywriter, wanna be photographer and doggo lover. Sarcasm and bad jokes are my superpowers.

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