You probably need less software than you think
There is a point in starting a business where buying software feels suspiciously like progress.
You choose a CRM.
Then a project-management platform.
Then an email-marketing system.
Then an automation tool to connect the other tools.
Then a reporting dashboard to explain what the automation tool did.
You have no clients yet, but the infrastructure is magnificent.
I understand the temptation.
Setting up systems is easier than selling something.
The systems are tidy.
People are not.
The business needs to exist before the business stack does
If you are leaving a salaried job, particularly one in a bigger company, it is easy to assume a proper business needs to resemble the environment you came from.
Departments.
Dashboards.
Policies.
Software for everything.
It does not.
A solo consultancy can begin with a domain, email, a decent website, a way to take payment, somewhere to keep notes and a method for tracking who you need to speak to next.
That is not unsophisticated.
It is proportionate.
Complexity should be earned.
A tool should remove friction, not create a new hobby
I like software.
This is therefore advice I occasionally have to give myself.
Every tool comes with a cost beyond the subscription.
You have to learn it.
Configure it.
Maintain it.
Connect it.
Update it.
Remember why you bought it.
Then, at some point, discover you are paying another monthly subscription for a feature you last used during an enthusiastic Tuesday in February.
The real price of software is attention.
That is the scarce thing.
The lean stack is not one specific stack
I could give you a list of tools.
A website.
Payments.
Notes.
Scheduling.
Email.
Cloud storage.
Accounts.
Fine.
But that is not really the point.
The point is to choose the smallest set of tools that supports the way you actually work.
If a spreadsheet genuinely works, use the spreadsheet.
If the website needs a CMS, use one.
If it does not, do not bolt one on because somebody on YouTube said "headless" with conviction.
If invoices can be handled by the accounting platform you already use, you probably do not need a second invoicing product because its dashboard has nicer gradients.
Margin buys choice
People talk about revenue constantly.
Revenue is pleasing.
Take a made-up example: a business doing £10,000 a month with £9,500 of unavoidable overhead is a very different creature from one doing less revenue with much more room left over.
Low overhead gives you options.
You can say no to a client who feels wrong.
You can survive a quiet month.
You can spend time developing something new.
You can take a day off without immediately calculating how much office rent it has cost you.
That is what I find interesting about running lean.
Not minimalism for aesthetic reasons.
Optionality.
Geography matters less than it used to — but not not at all
The internet has clearly made it possible to run certain kinds of businesses from places that would once have made that difficult.
That does not mean geography has disappeared.
Local networks still matter.
Travel still matters.
Time zones matter.
Broadband matters.
Some industries remain very location-dependent.
But if your work is largely digital, the old assumption that serious business requires a serious-looking office in a major city has weakened considerably.
You can do useful work from Cornwall.
The client does not need to see a glass meeting room behind you to believe you exist.
They need you to understand the problem and deliver what you said you would deliver.
Do not imitate venture-backed companies unless you are one
A strange amount of startup advice is written for businesses that intend to raise capital, hire quickly and chase very rapid growth.
That may be exactly what you want.
It may also be completely irrelevant.
If you want a profitable consultancy, small studio, niche software business or creative practice that gives you a good living and control over your time, you do not need to behave as though Sequoia Capital is arriving on Thursday.
You can build slowly.
You can fund things from revenue.
You can remain small.
You can change direction without explaining yourself to a board.
That is not a failure to scale.
It may be the design.
The best stack is the one you stop thinking about
I think this is the test.
Does the system help you do the work?
Or have you accidentally created a second job maintaining the system that helps you do the work?
If the client enquiry arrives.
You can answer it.
You can keep track of the conversation.
You can send a proposal.
You can collect payment.
You can deliver the work.
You can keep records.
You can follow up.
That is a business system.
Everything after that has to justify itself.
Keep the machinery smaller than the business
You can always add complexity later.
That is easy.
Removing it after three years of integrations, subscriptions and habits is much harder.
So start small.
Buy software when the pain of not having it becomes clearer than the excitement of owning it.
Keep costs low enough that you can make decisions based on what is good rather than what keeps the machinery fed.
And if the business works with six tools instead of sixteen, I declare pleasure.