Why strategy matters more when markets are unstable

We didn’t even realise we had no strategy—until everything around us started breaking. It wasn’t a dramatic collapse. More like quiet, creeping confusion. Sales slowed. Our ops lead started improvising workflows that made no sense. Team meetings felt like we were throwing darts in the dark. Everyone was working hard. But no one could explain why we were doing what we were doing. That’s when it hit me: we were busy reacting, not building. And in unpredictable times, that’s a death sentence.

I used to think flexibility was a strength. But what I’ve learned since—through my own mistakes and the founders I now mentor—is that strategy is what lets you choose your fire. Without it, the fire chooses you.

What founders don’t always talk about is how easy it is to conflate motion with direction. Especially in Southeast Asia, where startup cultures often over-index on hustle and “doing more.” We had energy. We had execution. But we lacked alignment. And alignment is what keeps a team sane when everything outside your control is shifting. The truth? Chaos doesn’t care how lean you are. When the world tilts, you either stand on a plan—or get swept into someone else’s.

At the time, the logic felt bulletproof. The market was shifting. Our early sales motion wasn’t scaling. We needed to “keep options open.” We told ourselves we were being smart—waiting for clearer signals, testing before committing. Except we never really committed to anything. Every few weeks, someone floated a new growth channel. “Maybe LinkedIn?” “Should we go outbound?” “How about a mid-funnel webinar?” There was no clear “yes.” But worse—no clear “no.” We had no guardrails. No definition of our customer. No model of how we’d win.

What looked like agility was actually drift. And drift erodes team trust faster than failure.

We thought staying lean meant staying smart. What we didn’t see was that lean without direction becomes exhausting. Every decision became a debate. Every sprint became a maybe. We weren’t building momentum—we were just busy surviving. Our early hires, full of potential, slowly lost conviction. Not because they weren’t capable, but because we weren’t decisive. And if you’ve ever led a startup, you know this: nothing breaks a high-performing team faster than leadership that won’t commit. Strategy doesn’t mean locking everything in. It just means choosing your direction—on purpose. We didn’t. And it cost us more than money. It cost belief.

The first signs weren’t loud. It was small things. The designer asking who the “main user” was—again. The SDR struggling to explain our value prop on calls. Me, freezing every time someone asked what our 6-month focus was. We kept patching symptoms: more standups, more Notion pages, more experiments. But the problem wasn’t tactical. It was existential.

We didn’t know what game we were playing. And in unpredictable markets, that’s not just risky—it’s dangerous. When conditions change fast, a vague plan doesn’t flex—it crumbles. We saw that up close. A competitor with half our headcount made three decisive bets and gained traction. While we were still discussing “frameworks,” they were winning market share. Not because they were smarter. Because they’d already decided where they were headed.

It wasn’t a crisis moment. It was a Thursday afternoon. One of our engineers pinged me: “Just checking—are we still building the SME onboarding tool? Or pivoting to the enterprise demo flow?” I stared at the message. I didn’t have a clear answer. Worse—I didn’t have a clear lens to make the decision. That’s when it sank in. We weren’t making strategy calls. We were making guesses dressed up as flexibility.

I booked a meeting with our cofounder that night. We locked ourselves in a café and wrote out every bet we’d made. Then we asked the only question that mattered: which one still makes sense given the mess outside? That became the turning point. Not because we got the answer right. But because we finally asked the right question.

What I wish more early-stage teams understood—especially in Southeast Asia, where ecosystem shocks hit differently—is this: strategy isn’t about being “sure.” It’s about being clear. You can’t control the external chaos. But you can choose how you show up in it.

A solid strategy gives your team:

• A shared lens for saying “yes” and “no”
• A reason to keep going when things get messy
• A sense of ownership—because the destination is known, even if the road isn’t

One of the founders I mentor in KSA recently said, “We’re not big enough to need a strategy yet.” My answer: you’re not too small—you’re too fragile not to have one.

If I could go back, I wouldn’t wait for the storm to pass to set direction. I’d anchor early—even if the plan had to shift later. I’d define what success looks like for us—not just mirror what other startups were chasing. And I’d tell my team, out loud: “This is the hill we’re climbing. If the terrain changes, we’ll adjust. But we’re not wandering anymore.”

In unpredictable times, people don’t need more freedom. They need more clarity. Because chaos doesn’t reward agility. It rewards conviction. And the cost of indecision? You’ll feel it in product debt, team churn, and a growing pile of half-built ideas.

I’d also spend less time chasing advice from everyone else. We delayed bold decisions because we were afraid of being wrong—so we kept gathering input. But too much advice without alignment creates paralysis. The truth is, most of your team isn’t waiting for the “perfect” strategy. They’re waiting to believe in any strategy at all. If I had to do it again, I’d lead with clarity sooner. Even if it meant getting some things wrong. Because in chaos, courage compounds. And indecision is far more expensive than a failed bet that your team understands—and owns.

If you’re in that hazy zone right now—where the roadmap is blurry and your gut says, “We’re just reacting”—pause. Pull your team into a room. Ask the hard question: What game are we playing? And more importantly: Are we still playing to win, or just trying not to lose? That answer might just save you a year of drift.

You don’t need a 50-slide deck. You need a sentence that helps your team decide between Option A and Option B without calling a founder every time. That’s what real strategy does. It reduces decision fatigue. It protects morale. It reminds people that their work fits into something bigger—even if the terrain keeps shifting. I’ve seen teams in Malaysia, Riyadh, and Singapore go from scattered to sharp—not by finding the “perfect” strategy, but by finally owning a real one. That’s the shift. Not bigger budgets. Not new tools. Just conviction.

So if you’re stuck in build-mode but your gut’s been screaming for direction, trust that instinct. You don’t need more hustle. You need a hill to climb. Make that call now—before uncertainty makes it for you. Because in unpredictable times, drifting isn’t cheaper. It’s just quieter failure.