Most teams think they’re “talking to users.” But what they’re really doing is pitching with a question mark at the end. I used to run interviews like that, friendly, conversational, full of nods and encouragement. I’d leave the call feeling great. But none of it made our product better.

Then I read The Mom Test and it obliterated my process.

It taught me the hard truth: bad research is worse than no research. Compliments feel good but mean nothing. Hypotheticals are lies wearing polite smiles. If you’re not asking about past behavior, you’re building on sand. That book changed how I work and rebuilt the entire foundation of my UX practice.

Here’s what that foundation looks like now.

I approach every conversation like an excavation, not a sales pitch. I’m not there to prove my idea. I’m there to uncover truth and that means asking questions that might hurt. If I’m not at least a little nervous, I’m probably not learning anything new. Every conversation should carry the risk of destroying my assumptions. That’s the point.

I no longer ask, “Would you use this?” because people will say yes to be nice. I ask, “How are you solving this today?” because behavior is the only signal that matters. If they haven’t tried to fix it, they won’t pay me to fix it. Passion doesn’t mean urgency. Action does.

I’ve also learned to avoid the feature trap. When someone says, “It should sync to Excel,” I don’t write it down like a checklist. I ask, “What would that let you do?” Nine times out of ten, the request is just a symptom and my job is diagnosis.

And perhaps most importantly, I’ve accepted this truth: they own the problem, I own the solution. It’s not their job to tell me what to build. It’s mine to understand how they live, where the pain is, what they’ve tried, what they’ve given up on and let that shape what comes next.

That’s what The Mom Test gave me. A way to stop chasing approval and start chasing clarity. A method to strip away fluff and build from facts. A lens to spot false hope early and walk away from it without guilt.

Because in UX, the cost of building the wrong thing isn’t just technical debt. It’s human. It’s wasted trust. It’s the moment a user gives your product one last shot… and then never comes back.

If you’re a designer, a founder, or anyone who talks to users, I can’t recommend The Mom Test enough. But more than that, I recommend building your research practice around its hard-won truths. It’s not about being liked. It’s about being useful.

And that starts with asking better questions.