we live in an age that worships openness. the great altar of inclusivity demands constant sacrifice — of sharpness, of standards, of identity. we are told that to build well is to build for all. that to lead is to accommodate. that to grow is to flatten. the result is a generation of diluted institutions, cowardly founders, and half-built visions trying not to offend.
but anything serious — anything with weight, with shape, with legacy — begins with a line drawn in the sand.
exclusion is not the opposite of progress. it is its scaffolding.
the lie of the modern builder is that you can serve everyone equally. that you can build a platform, a product, a philosophy, and stretch it wide enough to please the left, the right, the clueless, and the cunning, and still retain your integrity. you cannot. every serious builder must come to terms with this betrayal: to preserve the sanctity of your mission, some people must be left out.
this isn’t arrogance. it is architecture.
the cathedral does not invite the jackhammer. a ship does not adjust its hull to every wave. and a nation, if it is to survive as more than a marketplace with a flag, must eventually choose what it will not become. if you do not exclude, you do not shape. and if you do not shape, you are not building. you are appeasing.
we confuse popularity with purpose. we think broad appeal is the same as depth. but breadth without depth is just surface. it makes for good slogans, maybe a bit of funding, but never endurance. the roman empire did not endure because it was “inclusive.” it endured because it was structured, brutal, hierarchical, and selective. it absorbed what was useful, discarded what was not, and forged a system out of clear intention. cold? perhaps. but coherent. and coherence is more precious than kindness in the architecture of empires.
even jesus curated his twelve. socrates chose his circle. every sacred thing is guarded — not because it is elitist, but because it is precise.
this is what modern minds miss: exclusion is not oppression when it is in service of vision. not every boundary is a prison. some are perimeters; the sacred lines that make clarity possible. a painter does not paint without a canvas. a leader does not lead without borders. a founder cannot define without denying.
there is a reason your favorite products feel “clean” or “elegant” or “intuitive.” it is not because they invited every voice to the table. it is because someone, perhaps in a dark room with too much coffee and too much conviction — decided what did not belong. the magic is in what was cut. the elegance is in what was excluded.
this is not a call to cruelty. it is a call to conviction.
to build something serious is to say: this is who we are. and more importantly, this is who we are not. it is to say no, not to devalue, but to define. if your vision makes no one uncomfortable, it’s not a vision, it’s a vibe.
so here’s the bitter medicine for modern builders:
not everyone is your user.
not everyone is your customer.
not everyone is your audience.
not everyone is meant to belong.
and that — if you are building something that matters — is a good thing.
current read - steve jobs by Isaac watson