The Punk PM #57

Build Your Own Cage

Black Sabbath looking awesome

Hey there, punk!

Last week I wrote about saying no—the discipline of not building all the things AI now makes cheap to build. It's been rattling around my head ever since, and I think there’s more to it: this isn't just about restraint. It's also about constraint.

The thing we spent our whole careers fighting has vanished, and that's maybe not the win we thought it would be.

Let's get into it.

Quote of the Week 🙊

The more constraints one imposes, the more one frees oneself of the chains that shackle the spirit.

— Igor Stravinsky

Insight 🦉

Every product manager I've ever met has spent their career fighting the iron triangle. More time. More budget. More people. Roadmaps with no dates and no promises. Ship it when it's ready, when we've squeezed every last drop of value out for the customer. And please, for the love of God, keep finance and leadership and all the grubby commercial stuff away from the sacred work of building cool things.

I've made that argument. Loudly. I was wrong. I'd misread what the triangle was doing for me.

Constraint isn't the enemy of great work. It's often the cause of it. In 1969 Black Sabbath had two days and almost no budget to record their debut. No time for overdubs, no Sgt. Pepper-esque studio wizardry, none of the lush multitracked psych-pop everyone else was chasing in the Beatles' wake. So they set up and played it nearly live. That poverty of options gave us one of the greatest albums ever made, and invented heavy metal in the process. The constraint didn't limit the art. It was the art.

That's the accidental kind. There's a deliberate kind too. Johnny Marr banned himself from writing a solo in The Smiths and produced the most inventive indie guitar playing of the eighties. Jackson Pollock refused to let the brush touch the canvas and detonated modern art in the process. A horror director works inside a genre's tightest rules—the killer, the final girl, the third-act reveal—and finds room to do something nobody's seen. The rule isn't the cage. The rule is the springboard.

Here's the thing: the constraints we've fought against for twenty years have gone. AI made building cheap, which blows up how we think about budget. It made coding agentic, which blows up how we think about resourcing. It made shipping fast, which blows up how we think about time. The iron triangle we kicked against so hard has quietly dissolved while we weren't looking. We got exactly what we asked for.

And it turns out that getting what you asked for is a trap.

Because a product manager with no constraints doesn't build the greatest possible experience. A product manager with no constraints builds nothing, forever. There's always one more iteration, one more edge case, one more polish pass now that every side of the triangle has gone slack. Your customer sits in the stalls waiting for Godot—a product that is always about to arrive and never does. Infinite runway is just a slower way to fail.

So the discipline flips. When constraint was imposed on us, our gut reaction was to fight it. Now that it's gone, our job is to manufacture it. To choose the thing we won't do. To draw the line—this ships Friday, this scope, this amount of time and attention—not because someone in finance forced it, but because you know that the line is what makes the work good. That's the Johnny Marr move. Ban yourself from the solo. Give yourself two days and one shot to get it down on tape.

This is harder than it sounds, and it's a genuinely different skill from the one most of us trained on. Fighting a constraint someone else set is easy—you just push. Setting your own means owning the trade-off with nobody to blame. It means judgement, taste, and the nerve to say "enough" while the tools whisper that you could always do more.

We spent years trying to escape the iron triangle. Turns out the job was never to escape it. It was to build our own.

Action 🚀

Next week, take what you're building and give it a constraint it doesn't have: a ship date that's too soon, a scope you can't exceed, or a feature you're banned from adding.

Write it down before you start. Make it a rule, not a preference.

Then watch what it forces you to decide. That's not the constraint limiting the work. That's the constraint making it.

Inspiration 💡

The Chat Box Isn't a UI Paradigm. It's What Shipped  Adi Leviim argues the chat box won not because it works, but because it shipped fastest, and every rival cloned it because the obvious thing never requires original thinking. When building is cheap and speed is the only game, the competitive structure selects against creativity. The flood of sameness becomes the default. Read more

When AI Has Better Taste Than You – Julie Zhuo detonates the comfortable belief that taste is our last redoubt against the machines. Taste, she argues, is largely pattern recognition across cultural knowledge—precisely what AI is built to replicate—so the real moat isn't taste at all, but agency: the will to act on your values. Knowing what's good is getting cheap; caring enough to make it is the rare thing. Read more

AI Agents Could Make Free Software Matter Again – George London on what happens when the cost of building software falls towards zero. The constraint that shaped every product decision for decades quietly vanishes. Read it as the backdrop to everything else this week: the iron triangle isn't loosening, it's gone. Read more

Signing Off ✍️

If this resonates with you, hit reply and let me know. And if you think a friend or colleague would enjoy The Punk PM, feel free to share it with them!

Play it your way,

Toby