Every time you change your offer...

The LinkedIn algorithm loves content about offers. Positioning. Niching down. Finding your blue ocean.

Every week there's someone with a new framework for crafting an irresistible offer that prints money, and the posts get thousands of likes because they tap into something agency owners desperately want to believe - that the answer to their problems is out there, waiting to be discovered, and they just need to find the right configuration of words and positioning and packaging.

I'm not saying offer doesn't matter. It does. Getting your offer right is foundational work.

But I want you to sit with this for a moment:

If twenty people have paid you for what you do, the market has already told you something important.

You have product-market fit.

Not "I think there's demand for this" fit.

Proven, demonstrated, money-changed-hands fit.

Twenty humans - with their own problems, their own skepticism, their own alternatives - looked at what you were offering and decided it was worth paying for. They gave you real money.

That's not an accident.

And yet the temptation to keep changing things is relentless.

I understand where the temptation comes from.

Sometimes it's boredom. You've been selling the same thing for two years and you're tired of talking about it. You want something fresh, something that excites you again.

Sometimes it's fear. A prospect said no, or a few prospects said no, and you're wondering if your offer is wrong. If maybe you need to pivot to something better.

Sometimes it's comparison. You saw someone else doing something interesting - a competitor with a clever positioning angle, a creator with a framework that seems to be working - and you want to try it yourself.

Sometimes it's the advice itself. You read a book, took a course, joined a mastermind. Someone told you to niche down, or to broaden out, or to reposition around outcomes, or to add a productized component. The advice sounded smart and you want to implement it.

All of these impulses are understandable. Some of them might even be right, in certain situations.

But every time you change your offer, you reset your team's ability to deliver it well.

Your team has spent months (maybe years) learning how to deliver your current offer. They've built SOPs, even if the SOPs aren't perfect. They've developed muscle memory for the work. They've figured out the shortcuts, the common problems, the solutions that work every time. They've refined the rough edges through repetition.

When you change the offer, all of that gets disrupted.

You're back to version 1.0. The documentation is wrong or incomplete. The team doesn't know exactly how to deliver the new thing. Questions that used to have clear answers are suddenly ambiguous. The process that had become smooth is now bumpy again.

Which means quality suffers. Timelines slip. Clients who signed up expecting a certain experience get something rougher, less polished - because you're figuring it out as you go.

And this happens every time you tinker. Every repositioning, every repackaging, every "small adjustment" to the offer - it ripples through the entire delivery machine and creates friction.

The impact on sales is significant too.

When you change your offer, your positioning changes. Your pitch changes. Your case studies may or may not still be relevant. Your objection handling - all the things you've learned to say when prospects push back - might need to be reworked.

Which means your close rate drops.

Then there's the client experience issue.

If you've been in business for any length of time, you have clients who signed up for version 1 of your offer. Or version 2. Or some variation that existed before your most recent change.

When you keep tinkering, different clients have different expectations. Different understandings of what they bought. Different reference points for what good delivery looks like.

This creates inconsistency. Client A got one thing, Client B got something else, Client C got the new version. Your team has to remember who got what. Quality becomes unpredictable because there's no single standard - there are multiple standards, depending on when the client signed.

But maybe the biggest cost is this:

You can only optimize a process you run repeatedly.

When you're constantly changing what you deliver, you never get the reps in. You never accumulate the learning. Every engagement is a little bit different, which means every problem feels new, which means you're solving the same types of problems over and over without ever actually eliminating them.

You stay perpetually in "figuring it out" mode.

Never reaching the level of mastery where delivery becomes easy, efficient, almost automatic.

Bigger companies don't tinker with their offer much at all.

They pick a lane and spend years getting extraordinarily good at executing within it. They optimize relentlessly. They improve processes. They train people. They document everything. They turn delivery into a science.

They resist the temptation to chase shiny objects, because they know that every pivot resets the clock on operational excellence. And operational excellence is where the margin lives.

The discipline to stay in the lane - even when it's boring, even when you see competitors doing something that looks more exciting - is part of what makes them successful.

Caveat: There's a difference between tinkering and evolving. I want to be clear about that.

Tinkering is reactive. A client complained, so you change something. A competitor launched a new service, so you scramble to respond. You read a book and now you want to apply the framework. You're restless, and change feels like progress.

Evolving is strategic. You've delivered the same offer 50 times and you've identified a consistent friction point that affects every engagement. You've collected feedback systematically and there's a clear pattern. You're expanding into an adjacent service because your existing clients keep asking for it and the delivery capability already exists.

Tinkering comes from looking outward - at markets, competitors, thought leaders, frameworks. What should we be doing that we're not

Evolving comes from looking inward - at your own data, your own clients, your own delivery patterns. What is the work teaching us about where we should go next?

I ask this question when someone tells me they're thinking about a pivot:

What would happen if you kept the offer exactly the same, but made your delivery world-class?

If you took all the energy you're putting into repositioning and put it into tightening your processes. Into training your team. Into systematizing the client experience. Into building SOPs that let you deliver consistent, excellent quality every single time.

What would happen then?

Usually - not always, but usually - the answer is that most of the problems they're trying to solve by changing the offer would disappear.

The close rate would go up, because they could sell confidently. They'd have case studies, proof, stories. They'd have answers to every objection because they'd heard them all before. Prospects would feel the confidence.

The retention would improve, because clients would get a reliably excellent experience. No surprises. No quality dips. The thing they bought is the thing they got.

The profit would increase, because the team would be efficient at delivering something they've done a hundred times.

The team would be happier, because they'd know what they were doing. They'd feel competent. They'd have the satisfaction of doing work they've mastered instead of constantly feeling like beginners.

The offer wasn't the problem.

The delivery of the offer was the problem.

And changing the offer, again, would only make the delivery worse.

If you have twenty clients, stop tinkering.

Pick the lane. Stay in the lane. Get absurdly good at the lane.

Resist the temptation to pivot every time you see something shiny.

Trust the evidence: twenty people paid you. The market has spoken.

Your job is to become the best in the world at delivering the offer you have.

If you're feeling the pull to change things - but something in your gut tells you the real issue is deeper, that maybe it's not the offer at all - reply with "OFFER" and let's talk it through.

Nick