How feature growth quietly separates products from their identity
Francois Brill
Founding Designer
"It feels cluttered."
"It's harder to use than I expected."
"I don't really get who this is for anymore."
Users rarely diagnose misalignment directly. They describe symptoms. The product still works, but something about it has shifted.
Here's the thing: they're not wrong. They're feeling drift before you've named it.
Drift happens decision by decision
Products don't lose clarity in one dramatic moment.
They drift.
A feature gets added to solve a real problem. Another follows because a customer asked. A third ships because it felt reasonable at the time.
None of these decisions are wrong. But together, they form a pattern, and patterns compound.
The product still functions. It just no longer feels like itself.
Features accumulate faster than meaning
Early on, meaning is implicit.
The product is small. Decisions flow through the same people. Intent lives in your head, so you don't need to name it.
As the product grows, features multiply. Meaning doesn't, unless you actively protect it.
Without that protection:
- The product becomes a collection of solutions, not a coherent whole
- Tradeoffs start feeling arbitrary
- New features don't reinforce the core, they dilute it
Function expands. Identity stays frozen. Drift begins.
The internal warning signs
Misalignment rarely shows up as failure. It shows up as friction, like this:
Decision drag — Choices that used to be obvious now require meetings.
Philosophical debates — Design discussions become abstract instead of practical.
Generic positioning — Messaging starts sounding like it could belong to anyone.
Founder bottlenecks — You get pulled into every decision because there's no shared standard.
Founders often sense this before they can articulate it. Metrics look fine. Revenue is growing. But something feels off.
That gap between what the product does and what it stands for, that's drift.
The messaging trap
Founders often try to fix drift with words.
Clearer copy. Sharper positioning. Better explanations.
Here's what I've learned after two decades of building products: alignment doesn't start with what you say. It starts with what the product does consistently.
Alignment means:
- The experience reinforces the same idea across surfaces
- Decisions feel predictable, even when features are new
- The product behaves the way it claims to believe
When alignment is strong, messaging becomes easier, not because it's clever, but because it's describing something true.
One question changes everything
When identity is clear, a different kind of question emerges.
Instead of "Is this a good idea?", which invites endless debate, you start asking:
"Is this us?"
That shift is everything. It turns subjective preferences into directional choices. It gives you a reason to say no without overthinking.
Alignment doesn't limit options. It makes choosing faster.
Small teams feel drift first
Large companies can absorb misalignment for years. Brand momentum, user familiarity, and process layers smooth things over.
Small teams don't have that buffer.
When you're unknown:
- Every inconsistency carries more weight
- Every confusing moment costs more trust
- Every unclear decision slows you down, more
Alignment isn't a nice-to-have. It's structural support for teams who can't afford drift.
What alignment actually protects
Alignment protects:
- User confidence in what the product is
- Decision speed when you're moving fast
- The coherence that makes a product feel intentional
It keeps growth from becoming sprawl. It makes expansion feel directional, instead of reactive.
Most importantly, it preserves the identity you worked to define, so the product can scale without losing itself.
