Your Business Has a Design Problem. An Architect-Turned-Founder Explains How to Fix It

When people ask how I ended up building a real estate technology company after studying architecture, I usually smile, because the path makes more sense than it sounds.

Architecture and entrepreneurship may seem like different worlds. One deals with buildings, materials, structure and space. The other deals with products, customers, systems and growth. But after years of moving between architecture, real estate and technology, I’ve realized they’re deeply connected. Both are about solving problems for people.

A building isn’t successful just because it looks beautiful in a rendering. It has to work. People have to move through it naturally, and it has to respond to light, function, structure, budget and daily life. The same is true for a business. A company can have a beautiful logo, a polished website and a slick pitch deck, but if it doesn’t solve a real problem for real people, it will eventually crack.

Here are a few lessons architecture taught me about building a better business.

Start with the people who will use it

In architecture school, we were trained to think about the user before falling in love with the design. Who is going to live here? How will they move through the space? Where will they sit in the morning? What will annoy them after six months? That way of thinking stayed with me.

When I first entered the real estate industry in New York, I noticed something that seemed obvious but was strangely ignored: Apartment hunters were frustrated. Listings were confusing, photos were overly polished, and sometimes the apartment looked nothing like the ad. Anyone who has apartment-hunted in New York knows the feeling. You show up excited, open the door and immediately think, “Wait, this is not what I saw online.”

That frustration became the foundation for my company. The idea was simple: Show people real, unedited video tours so they can understand a space before wasting time visiting it.

My advice to entrepreneurs is to resist the urge to start with what you want to build. Start with what people are struggling with. Listen closely, and watch where they get confused, annoyed or disappointed. The best business ideas often don’t come from trying to impress people. They come from removing a specific frustration from their lives.

Function comes before beauty

I studied architecture, so of course I care about aesthetics. But architecture taught me that beauty without function is fragile.

A stunning house with awkward circulation is still awkward. A beautiful lobby with poor lighting still makes people uncomfortable. A perfectly designed room that doesn’t fit the way people actually live is more sculpture than home. Businesses fall into this trap all the time.

I’ve seen founders spend months perfecting their branding before confirming that anyone wants the product. I’ve seen websites that look incredible but make it nearly impossible to book a call. I’ve seen companies describe what they do in language so polished and abstract that no one understands what they’re selling.

If this sounds familiar, I’ve been there too. In the early days of building my company, I sometimes wanted things to look more sophisticated than they needed to. Over time, I learned that clarity is more valuable than complexity. People don’t need your business to sound impressive. They need to understand how it helps them.

If you’re building something, ask yourself: Does this work before it looks perfect? Can someone understand the value quickly? Can they take the next step without a manual, a follow-up email and three “emotional support” coffees?

Beauty matters, but function earns trust.

Constraints can make you more creative

One of the first things architecture teaches you is that constraints are everywhere: budget, site conditions, structural limits, zoning rules, materials, deadlines and client preferences. Reality, basically.

At first, constraints feel annoying because they interrupt the fantasy. You have an idea, and the world gently says, “Cute, but no.” Eventually, though, you realize constraints aren’t always the enemy. Sometimes they’re exactly what forces you to design something better. Entrepreneurship works the same way.

When you don’t have unlimited funding, you get sharper. When your team is small, you learn to prioritize. When you can’t build every feature, you focus on the one that matters most. Some of my best business decisions came from not having enough resources to do everything.

I’ve seen this lesson play out again and again in my family’s urban development work in Mexico. Growth doesn’t happen all at once. You work in phases: You improve access, add infrastructure, subdivide land and wait as the city expands. It isn’t glamorous, overnight success, but it works because it respects sequence, timing and reality.

For entrepreneurs, constraints can be a gift if you stop fighting them long enough to learn from them. The next time you feel limited, don’t immediately ask, “How do I get more?” Ask, “What is this limitation forcing me to clarify?” You may find you don’t need more money, people or time. You may just need a better order of operations.

Design the experience, not just the product

A building isn’t experienced all at once. You approach it, enter it, move through it, discover it, use it and remember it. That sequence matters.

The same is true for business. Customers don’t just experience your product. They experience your emails, website, response time, onboarding, explanations, invoices, mistakes and follow-ups. Everything counts.

In real estate, I learned quickly that clients weren’t stressed only because they had to choose an apartment. They were stressed because the process felt unclear. What happens after the application? What documents are needed? How fast do they need to move? What should they watch out for?

Once I started explaining the process before people had to ask, the entire experience changed. The service became easier, clients became calmer and trust grew faster. It taught me one of my favorite business lessons: Confusion is expensive. It costs time, energy and trust, and sometimes it costs the sale.

Here’s the exercise I recommend: Walk through your business as a customer who knows nothing. Where would you hesitate? Where would you feel unsure? Where would you need reassurance? Then redesign those moments.

Add a checklist. Simplify the email. Create a short video. Rewrite the confusing paragraph. Remove one unnecessary step. A great customer experience is rarely about adding more. More often, it’s about making the path easier to follow.

Build something that can evolve

Buildings change. Families grow. Neighborhoods shift. A space that works today may need to become something else later. Good architecture allows for change, and good businesses should too.

The world moves too quickly for rigid companies. Customer expectations shift, technology evolves, markets surprise us and competitors appear out of nowhere. Sometimes, what you thought your business would become isn’t what the market actually needs.

When the real estate industry went digital, especially during and after the pandemic, companies had to adapt quickly. Virtual tours, remote communication, digital paperwork and faster follow-up went from luxuries to expectations. Businesses with room to evolve adjusted faster.

That’s why I believe entrepreneurs should build around the problem they solve, not just the product they currently offer.

I started my company with a simple belief: Real estate should be more transparent. Unedited video tours were one expression of that belief, but the mission is bigger than the format. As technology evolves, the tools may change. The principle stays the same.

If you’re building a business, stay loyal to the problem, not to the first version of your solution. Your first product may not be your final product. Your first customer may not be your best customer. Your first business model may not be the one that lasts. Leave room to grow.

Architecture taught me that the best designs aren’t the loudest. They’re the ones that work so well people barely notice the effort behind them. Business is the same. The best companies make life easier. They reduce confusion, respect people’s time, solve real problems and are built with intention.

Looking back, I don’t think I ever really left architecture. I just changed materials. Instead of designing buildings, I now design systems, experiences and businesses, and the lessons remain the same: Start with people, respect the constraints, make the path clear and build something that can stand the test of time.

Because whether you’re creating a home, a company or a life, good design is never just about how something looks. It’s about how it works.

When people ask how I ended up building a real estate technology company after studying architecture, I usually smile, because the path makes more sense than it sounds.

Architecture and entrepreneurship may seem like different worlds. One deals with buildings, materials, structure and space. The other deals with products, customers, systems and growth. But after years of moving between architecture, real estate and technology, I’ve realized they’re deeply connected. Both are about solving problems for people.

A building isn’t successful just because it looks beautiful in a rendering. It has to work. People have to move through it naturally, and it has to respond to light, function, structure, budget and daily life. The same is true for a business. A company can have a beautiful logo, a polished website and a slick pitch deck, but if it doesn’t solve a real problem for real people, it will eventually crack.