Tutoring platform, part 1 of 2
I overbuilt it, and my students told me
I optimized for completeness, and it made the product harder to use.
Context
Even with three tutors, the tutoring business grew only as fast as people’s hours. To get it off live teaching, I decided to build an online platform: recorded lessons, structured material, and a way for students to see their progress.
I had almost no background in product design or engineering.
The problem
I approached it the way I would approach an exam: learn everything first. I worked through web development courses from start to finish, read UI and UX theory, and studied how platforms like this are put together. Then I built a first version with everything I thought a good platform should have.
When it launched, nothing happened. No revenue. Almost no users.
I seriously considered going back to tutoring full time. It would have been the comfortable move, and it would have paid immediately. What stopped me was remembering why I had started: if I went back, the problem of my time being my revenue would still be there.
So I asked the students, directly and through anonymous surveys. The answer was blunt. It was complicated. It had features nobody needed. And the parts that mattered were hard to find.
What I did
- Took the criticism. This was harder than it sounds. I was used to being the one teaching these students. Now they were telling me my work wasn’t good enough, and they were right.
- Found the real mistake. The problem wasn’t any one feature. It was how I had approached the whole thing. I had optimized for completeness, not usefulness.
- Cut to three things. Structured lesson content, a clear sense of progress, and simple access. Everything else came out.
- Fixed the worst problems first. I didn’t have time to rebuild from scratch, so I ranked the problems by how much they hurt a student’s experience and fixed them in that order.
What I learned
Completeness and usefulness pull in different directions, and when you’re new to something, completeness is the one that feels safe. Building everything feels like diligence. Usually it’s a way of not deciding.
That fixed the product. It didn’t fix the bigger problem, which is the next piece.