Product

How to decide what goes in the first release

Editorial · Reveneau · October 27, 2026

How to decide what goes in the first release

Almost every scoping conversation we sit in has the same shape. Someone lists what the product needs to do. The list gets sorted by what the team can build fastest, because that sorting feels efficient and it produces a plan everyone can start on today. Weeks later the product ships, users touch it, and the team learns something they did not actually need this release to find out: that the login flow works, that the dashboard loads fast, that the settings page is fine. What they still do not know is whether anyone wants the thing the product was built to do. That question was never in the release. Here is the distinction that explains why: a v1 scoped around what is easy to build is a different plan than a v1 scoped around what needs to be tested, and most teams build the first one by default.

The easy slice and the risky slice are not the same thing

Every feature on a launch list can be sorted two different ways, and teams almost always use the wrong sort.

One sort asks: what can we build fastest, with tools and patterns we already know? That produces the easy slice. It is a real and useful question. It is not the question that decides what belongs in a first release. The other sort asks: what is the smallest piece of this product that would tell us whether our riskiest guess is right? That produces the risky slice, and it is the one that should set the boundary of v1. The two sorts sometimes land on the same features. They usually do not, because the parts of a product a team is least sure about tend to be exactly the parts it has the least practice building, which is what makes them uncomfortable and easy to postpone.

Teams default to easy because it feels like progress

The pull toward the easy slice is not laziness. It is what visible progress looks like from inside a project.

Building the login screen, the settings page, the admin panel: these move a task tracker forward every day, and a team watching tasks close feels like it is on track. Testing the riskiest assumption often means confronting the one part of the idea nobody has confirmed yet, which is uncomfortable in a way that finishing a settings page is not. So teams route around the hard question by staying busy on the parts they already know how to build well. The project looks healthy right up until launch, when the real test finally happens in front of actual users, at the exact point where a wrong answer costs the most to fix. CB Insights reviewed 385 failed, venture-backed startups that shut down since 2023 and found 43% cited poor product-market fit as a reason. Many of them had shipped a working product. What they had not done was test, early and cheaply, the part of the idea that turned out to be wrong.

Ask what a feature would prove, not what it would add

The fix is a single question you run against every item on the launch list: what would this prove if it worked, and what would it prove if it did not?

If a feature cannot answer either half of that question clearly, it is not testing anything, no matter how nice it sounds in a meeting. A payment flow can answer both halves easily: if people complete it, you have real evidence they will pay; if they abandon it at a specific step, you know exactly where the idea breaks. A polished onboarding animation usually cannot answer either half: whether it looks good or not, you learn nothing about whether the core idea works. This question also changes the conversation with a stakeholder who wants their favorite feature included. Asking "what would this prove" moves the discussion from opinion to evidence, and a feature that cannot clear that bar is easy to defer without the decision feeling personal.

Sometimes the risky slice is the harder build, and you build it anyway

It would be convenient if the smallest, riskiest test were always the easiest thing to build. It is not, and the rule does not bend when it is not.

Sometimes testing the real assumption honestly takes more work than the comfortable features around it would take. A marketplace's riskiest assumption is usually whether supply and demand will actually meet, and building even a rough version of that matching often takes more effort than a polished profile page or a review system. The rule stays the same anyway: build whatever answers the real question first, even when it is the harder thing on the list. What makes this affordable is scope elsewhere. A small, sharply targeted release can spend its full budget on the one hard, honest test instead of spreading that budget across ten comfortable features that were never going to answer anything.

A specific goal is what makes the sort possible at all

None of this works without a goal specific enough to test a feature against. A vague goal cannot tell you which slice is risky, because everything sounds important against "build a good product."

Compare "build a scheduling tool" against "prove that a small team will replace their group chat with this for booking shifts." The first gives you nothing to sort a feature list against, so every feature defends itself on vibes, and vibes never run out. The second gives you a fixed question: does this feature touch whether a small team actually replaces their group chat, yes or no. Features that do not touch that question, however reasonable they sound, are not part of the test, and they can wait. This is the same discipline we described in why your MVP should do less: cutting is not about doing less for its own sake, it is about keeping every remaining piece pointed at the one question the release exists to answer.

A small, honest release still has to work correctly

Scoping down does not lower the bar on quality. If anything it raises it, because a small release has nowhere to hide a weak part.

A rushed v1 that is small but broken gives you a false answer: users reject it because a flow does not work, not because the underlying idea was wrong, and you have learned nothing while believing you learned something. This is where an eval suite matters, a set of automated checks written straight from the spec before anyone writes the feature. In the work we do, that check runs on a two-feature release exactly as strictly as it would on a twenty-feature one, because the whole point of a small release is that its answer has to be trusted. A test you cannot trust is worse than no test, because it tells you to stop looking in the wrong place.

The check does not retire after v1

This is not a one-time exercise you run before the first launch and then set aside. Every time a product takes on something genuinely new: a new market, a new pricing model, a new core workflow, that addition carries its own untested assumption, and the same pull toward the comfortable build shows up again.

The teams that keep asking "what would this prove" past their first release are the ones that keep learning something real from every one they ship. The ones that stop asking end up, release after release, with something that was easy to build and tells them nothing they did not already believe.

The right first release is not the one you can build fastest. It is the one that finally answers the question you have been guessing about.

Sources

Common questions

What is the difference between the easiest slice and the riskiest slice of a product?

The easiest slice is whatever your team can build fastest with tools and patterns it already knows. The riskiest slice is the smallest piece of the product that tests the assumption most likely to be wrong. They sometimes overlap, but usually do not, and confusing the two is the most common scoping mistake in a first release.

Why do teams default to building the easy slice instead of the risky one?

Because the easy slice produces visible progress right away, and visible progress feels like the project is on track. The risky slice often means confronting the one thing nobody is sure about, which is uncomfortable, so teams route around it by staying busy on the parts they already know how to build.

How do I find the riskiest assumption in my product?

List every belief the product depends on to work: that people want it, that they will pay for it, that they will use it the way you expect, that it can be built the way you plan. For each one, ask what happens if that belief is false. The belief with the worst consequence if wrong, and the least evidence behind it today, is your riskiest assumption.

Does testing the riskiest assumption always mean building less?

Usually, but not always. Sometimes the riskiest assumption needs more work to test honestly than the easy features around it would take. The rule is not "build less," it is "build whatever answers the real question first," even when that is the harder thing to build.

What happens if we ship the easy version first and skip the risky test?

You get a working product that tells you nothing about whether the idea holds up. Teams in this position often keep adding features, mistaking motion for progress, until the real test finally happens in front of paying customers, at the point where a wrong answer is most expensive to fix.

Is an MVP the same thing as testing the riskiest assumption?

They are related but not identical. An MVP is the smallest real, shippable product. A riskiest-assumption test can be even smaller than that, sometimes not a working product at all, just enough to get a real answer from real people. The MVP should still be built around whatever that test tells you, not around what was easiest to code.

How do you tell a stakeholder that their favorite feature is not risky enough to include in v1?

Ask what the feature would prove if it worked and what it would prove if it failed. If a stakeholder cannot answer either question clearly, the feature is not testing anything, it is just something people expect to see. Framing the cut around "what does this prove" rather than "I don't think it matters" makes the conversation about evidence, not opinion.

Can a feature be both easy to build and genuinely risky to test?

Yes, and when that happens, it is an easy decision: build it first. The problem only shows up when the easy path and the risky path point in different directions, which is most of the time, because the parts of a product nobody has tested yet are usually the parts a team has the least practice building.

How does this decision rule change as a company grows past its first release?

The same rule keeps applying every time you add something genuinely new: a new market, a new pricing model, a new core workflow. Each of those carries its own untested assumption, and the temptation to build the comfortable version instead of the test that actually answers the question does not go away just because the company has shipped before.

What role does an eval suite play in keeping a scoped-down v1 honest?

An eval suite is a set of automated checks written from the product spec, and it means the small slice you ship still has to work correctly, not just exist. That matters here because a rushed v1 built only to hit a date, with no check on correctness, produces a false answer: users reject the feature because it is broken, not because the idea was wrong. The check has to be as tight on a small release as on a large one.

Why does a vague goal make it harder to pick the right slice for v1?

Without a specific, testable goal, every feature can claim to be "important," because there is no fixed question to measure it against. A specific goal, like proving that a certain kind of user will complete a certain action, gives you something concrete to test the slice against, so you can tell which features touch the real question and which ones just sound reasonable.

What is a quick way to check if a planned v1 is actually testing anything?

Write down, in one sentence, what you will believe after launch that you do not know for certain today. If you cannot write that sentence, or if the answer is something you were already confident about, the release is not set up to teach you anything, no matter how much or how little it contains.