A lifetime ago, while studying electrical engineering and computer science, I took a Marketing for Engineers class, expecting an easy grade.
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Day one, the professor walked in and asked:
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“A man walks into Home Depot and comes out with a cordless drill. What problem did he solve?”
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Hands shot up. One after another, the answer was clear: “He had a drill problem.”
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I didn’t raise my hand (I sat in the back, not exactly a hand-raising type), but if I had, I would’ve proudly said “a drill.”
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Then, a blue-haired art-major-looking guy next to me quietly said:
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“The man had a hole problem.”
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I chuckled, assuming it was a joke. But the professor pointed to him and replied:
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“Yes. The man had a hole problem.”
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He continued:
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“You engineers believe customers buy your technology. But in reality, they couldn’t care less about your technology. What they buy are solutions to their problems — from vendors who best understand them.”
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I hoped this professor was just some lightweight consumer-marketing guy from Procter & Gamble trying to force-fit detergent strategies into the technical world. I sat through the semester, earned the credit, but in my heart I prayed he was wrong.
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He wasn’t.
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Years later, after founding startups, working inside others, and even at larger companies, I’ve seen the same truth play out again and again. A lack of customer focus in marketing leads to weak performance, poor structure, and often, failure.
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Let me illustrate with two (very real) archetypes of how companies sell the same cordless drill:
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The Engineer’s Pitch: Selling the Drill
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“Our DrillCo model Z-34T cordless drill raises drilling to a whole new level. Its brushless motor with neodymium magnets delivers greater torque in a smaller package. Our ESP32 processor manages phase timing in a 10 kHz control loop, with Wi-Fi connectivity so you can set torque limits from your smartphone. The Z-34T is state-of-the-art.”
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The DrillCo website is crammed with cutaway diagrams of brushes and magnets, dense white papers on algorithms, and just enough stock photos of homeowners and contractors holding drills to check the “customer-friendly” box.
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The Marketer’s Pitch: Selling the Hole
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“With the Smile1, you’ll create amazing projects faster and easier than ever. Its soft organic silicone grip adapts to any hand, making it a joy to use. From paper to glass, Smile1 handles it all. You’ll feel proud of every perfect hole, every finished project. Small and lightweight, it fits perfectly into tight spaces—so you can look forward to every new job.”
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The HoleCo website, by contrast, is filled with happy customers building everything from birdhouses to decks. There are how-to tips, hundreds of short user videos, and stories showing what the Smile1 makes possible. Technical specs exist, tucked away for the curious, but the hero of the site is the user’s success, not the circuitry inside.
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Two Hammers: Technology vs. Empathy
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To the hammer, all the world is a nail.
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For engineers, the hammer is technology. Whether it’s hardware, software, medicine, or baking pies, technical creators focus on features, specs, and performance. They assume sharing their passion for the details will inspire customers too.
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But customers (even technical ones) don’t lose sleep over torque curves or control loops — they lose sleep over projects, costs, and problems.
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For great marketers, the hammer is empathy. They wake up thinking about customer motivations and anxieties. They build systems that empower buyers to feel safe making a decision. Where engineers see features, marketers see stories and outcomes.
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Why Most Fail at the Leap
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Almost every engineer I’ve shared this with nods in agreement — in theory. They’ll say technology and empathy should be “50/50.” But browse their websites, and it’s really 90/10 — all product, barely any customer.
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In reality, the ratio should be closer to 10/90. Technology is the frosting, not the cake.
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Most engineers, kind-hearted as they may be in daily life, rarely make the empathy leap in business. Putting their ego and reputation on the line for something as “squishy” as customer emotion feels too risky. Which is why most never do.
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A Venture Friend’s Pain
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Not long ago, a VC partner called me, frustrated with one of her portfolio companies: strong technology, steady customers… but stuck. Always needing more cash. Never scaling.
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While she talked, I pulled up the company’s website.
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It was textbook. Wall-to-wall technology descriptions, a vague list of possible applications, but zero tangible solutions.
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I told her:
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“That’s the problem. Customers don’t have time for a technology indoctrination. They want clear, well-defined solutions they can evaluate on a business basis.”
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Most of these companies aren’t failing because of weak technology. They’re failing because customers can’t see themselves in the solution.
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The Hard Part: Finding Real Problems
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Real marketing work isn’t about slogans. It’s about getting into the field, uncovering the specific, high-pain problems your technology can solve, and proving you solve them better than anyone else.
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Early adopters might buy out of curiosity. But mainstream customers only switch if you reduce major pain or are 10x better than the alternative. As Geoffrey Moore describes in Crossing the Chasm, until you learn the customer’s problem better than they do, you don’t stand a chance.
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Once you do, though, selling becomes natural.
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Why This Matters
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The list of customer motivations is long — budgets, pride, fear, ease, speed, career wins, reputation. Technical specs are just one small part. Even technical buyers purchase emotionally, then justify rationally.
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Ignore those motivations, and they’ll happily buy from a competitor with inferior technology but better empathy.
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Great marketing isn’t a “nice to have.” It must be at the very core of company DNA. Because in the real world:
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Average products with great marketing beat great products with average marketing.
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But when you have great products AND great marketing? That’s when companies change the world.

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