If Christopher Columbus Had a Funnel
Or: Why I Refuse to Optimise the Atlantic
There is a version of 1492 where Christopher Columbus never leaves port.
Not because of storms.
Because of strategy sessions.
He’s sitting in a co-working space in Seville explaining his value proposition to a growth consultant named Diego.
“Who exactly is this voyage for?” Diego asks.
“India,” Columbus replies.
“That’s too broad.”
And just like that, history is postponed for a positioning workshop.
The Modern Disease: Pre-Launch Excellence
If Columbus launched today, he would:
- Build a landing page for the Atlantic
- A/B test sails
- Offer an early bird discount to monarchs
- Install heat maps on the deck
- Run LinkedIn thought leadership on “Westward Expansion Mindset™”
He would have:
Bronze Voyage
Silver Voyage
Platinum Conquest Circle
And a waitlist.
There would absolutely be a waitlist.
Meanwhile, Portugal would quietly discover something real.
The Fortress Strategy
Now here’s the part they don’t like.
I built a fortress.
Not a defensive one.
A structural one.
One product.
One audience.
One price.
Five sessions per day.
Six seats per table.
No tiers.
No labyrinth.
No 47-step ascension ladder.
Just tables.
It’s almost offensive in its simplicity.
In 2026, if you don’t have a funnel that looks like an underground metro system, people assume you lack ambition.
But ambition does not require complexity.
It requires direction.
Why Simplicity Is Suspicious
Modern business culture says:
If it’s simple, it’s underdeveloped.
If it’s clear, it’s unsophisticated.
If it’s direct, it must be naive.
We’ve mistaken complication for intelligence.
So when I say:
“There are six seats. Pick a time. Join.”
Somewhere, a marketing expert develops a mild rash.
“Where’s the lead magnet?”
“At the table.”
“Where’s the nurture sequence?”
“In the conversation.”
“Where’s the scarcity mechanism?”
There are six seats.
That’s it.
The Three-Second Check
Ah yes.
The holy ritual.
The Three-Second Check.
“Can someone understand it in three seconds?”
If Columbus had obeyed this rule, the website would read:
Boat. West. Spices.
Clear.
Conversion-friendly.
Historically catastrophic.
Not everything meaningful fits into three seconds.
Some things require intrigue.
Some things require context.
Some things require the courage to let the right people lean in.
Speed is not clarity.
Noise is not momentum.
Automation Worship
And then there’s automation.
We are living in the Age of Button Worship.
If it can be automated, we feel powerful.
If it requires a human message, we feel primitive.
Columbus didn’t automate the Atlantic.
He left.
Meanwhile today:
We automate calendars.
We automate reminders.
We automate onboarding.
We automate follow-ups.
We automate authenticity.
At some point the only thing left unautomated is courage.
The Real Flex
Here is the real rebellion in 2026:
Not more tools.
Not sharper funnels.
Not smoother APIs.
It’s this:
A simple offer.
A clear structure.
A repeated rhythm.
And the audacity to sell it.
No smoke.
No labyrinth.
No artificial complexity to prove intelligence.
Just:
“Here’s the table.
Here’s the time.
Join us.”
That’s not underdeveloped.
That’s controlled.
Why I’m Not Redesigning the Ships Again
There is a moment where optimisation becomes procrastination dressed as strategy.
I’m not interested in polishing sails while someone else reaches shore.
The fortress is built.
The gates are open.
The schedule stands.
The product is clear.
Now comes the part modern business culture quietly avoids:
Going out and selling.
Not hiding behind dashboards.
Not rearranging infrastructure.
Not performing productivity.
Selling.
Inviting.
Filling six seats.
Again.
And again.
And again.
If Columbus Had Followed Modern Advice
He would still be in Seville.
Perfecting his pitch deck.
Launching a podcast about exploration.
Posting threads about resilience.
And waiting until conditions were optimal.
History rarely rewards optimal conditions.
It rewards movement.
And I prefer movement.
