A conversation with my close friend @srinvas started with this,
“Your strength is building frameworks… but now AI can generate any framework in seconds. So what makes yours special now?”
The blunt question hit me like a gut punch. For a moment, I felt numb and exposed.
We use ChatGPT and get instant answers. Was my earned skillset already obsolete?
That night, I challenged an AI myself. Not like a cybernetic organism from the future. (Who doesn’t like Terminator?) But through a chat engine like Perplexity, ChatGPT, etc.
I typed in a prompt for a “go-to-market strategy framework.” In a flash, it produced a neat seven-step model with impressive jargon.
This is where people go wrong with frameworks.
I realized my colleague’s question had uncovered a flaw in the AI frameworks, which needed a deeper reflection.
In LinkedIn today, anyone can grab a templated strategy for $20 (or for free).
So, what is the true value of a framework forged by human experience?
This is the question that haunted me for weeks. (yes weeks). You might be wondering if I’m writing this for weeks? Yes.
I came to a liberating insight: great frameworks don’t come from mere cleverness, they come from hard-earned experience. The decks and models I’ve built over the years weren’t valuable because they were novel or eloquent.
Take a look at the slide below, for example, on which I spent at least 150 hours of painstaking research distilling the Cloud ecosystem and its essence on scaling your business.
I recently came across an interview with Hermès executive Pierre-Alexis Dumas. He was asked why his firm refuses to speed up production of its luxury goods.
Pierre-Alexis Dumas put it this way:
“You’re applying the logic of industrial production to craft. Some qualities can’t be compressed.” Strategy is no different.
While you can get AI-generated strategies on the cheap, companies still “invest tens of thousands seeking what algorithms can’t replicate: judgment anchored in principle, refined through decades”.
In other words, the real value in a framework isn’t the format or the buzzwords, it’s the wisdom behind it. And Wisdom in reality is much complex to comprehend into data that can be fed.
This realization marked a mindset shift for me.
When a founder sketches a one-page strategy after surviving a near business collapse, that single page drips with context and conviction. There’s a big difference between a framework that sounds good and one that’s been battle-tested in boardrooms at 2 AM when cash runway is zero.
AI’s Templates vs. Human Insight
Generative AI is astounding. There is no doubt about it.
I did another experiment. I asked ChatGPT for “disruptive ideas for a transportation company”, and the top suggestions were all ideas humans had already brainstormed elsewhere.
How do I know?
I asked it where it gets the information that it spews out, all the sources, reports, and how it assumes.
Here is the link to this chat.
The limitation goes beyond originality. A strategy framework isn’t about listing ideas; it’s about choosing which ideas matter and translating them into action. Here, too, AI falls short.
Think of AI as an eager intern who’s read every business book. They can cite models and pump out a decent strategic outline. But would you entrust this intern to navigate an actual crisis? Probably not.
AI’s frameworks often carry a whiff of what strategist Richard Rumelt calls “fluff”. Fluff is “a form of gibberish masquerading as strategic concepts or arguments”.
As Rumelt warns, detecting such fluff is vital because until you do, you might mistake movement for progress.
Movement is not Progress!
I am not saying this is to completely knock AI. I use it regularly as a thinking partner to generate options, poke holes into my work, or summarize known approaches.
It’s fantastic for brainstorming and ensures I don’t overlook obvious angles. But I’ve learned to treat its output as input, not an answer.
The heavy lifting of strategy, the gut-level choices, the prioritization, the “what do we not do” decisions, I still take it seriously to think through.
Those are things even the largest language model doesn’t truly know, except in the abstract. And abstraction without application is… well, hollow.
Iconic Frameworks & Real Origins
Lean Canvas is Born From Startup Bruises
Ash Maurya didn’t invent Lean Canvas in a vacuum. It emerged from the trenches. After multiple startup flops and the realization that the Business Model Canvas didn’t serve early-stage chaos.
So he stripped it down, added the “Problem” box, removed the fluff, and pressure-tested it with founders in real time.
What looks like a neat 9-box grid is a distillation of hundreds of pivots, rejections, and “WTF now?” moments.
Jobs-to-be-Done & The Milkshake That Changed Strategy
JTBD sounds simple: understand what “job” your customer hires your product to do. But its power came from Christensen watching, not theorizing.
When milkshake sales stagnated, surface-level data said “new flavors.” Real-world observation said, “These shakes are breakfast for bored commuters.”
That shift from product features to human context is something AI still can’t grasp. JTBD endures because it forces you to see with empathy, not just analyze with logic.
McKinsey 7S is More Than Just Org Charts
In the 1970s, McKinsey noticed something: companies had strategy but couldn’t execute. The 7S model was their response but it is not a whiteboard exercise, but a field-tested realization that structure alone doesn’t drive change.
Culture, skills, shared values, they all matter. The 7S isn’t just elegant; it’s a mirror for misalignment. That’s why it’s still relevant decades later, because real transformation needs more than a re-org.
It needs coherence. And coherence isn’t copy-pasteable.
In Leadership, High Stakes Demand More Than Hollow Comfort
Why does this all matter so much? Do I have to dig so deep and drill down all this information?
Yes! So read carefully.
Because if you’re a founder, a tech executive, or a creator with big ambitions, your decisions carry high stakes.
In moments of truth, a pivotal product decision, a crisis in the market, a boardroom showdown, a shallow framework can become a dangerous crutch.
It might give you a false sense of security (“We have a plan, see? It has seven steps!”) while blinding you to the iceberg ahead.
I’ve seen teams fall into this trap. A shiny PowerPoint framework becomes a substitute for thinking. People execute the checklist without asking if it fits their situation.
Understandably, frameworks feel reassuring. They promise order amidst chaos. But leadership means embracing the discomfort of reality.
Sometimes, reality doesn’t fit into the template. Your market might defy the 2x2 matrix you borrowed from a blog. Your organization’s culture might render a textbook strategy moot.
As a courageous leader, you should adapt or even discard the framework, get back to first principles, rather than clinging to it out of comfort.
As the old saying goes, “all models are wrong, but some are useful.”
The key is to know when a model (or framework) is providing clarity versus when it’s a security blanket.
Think of frameworks as tools for clarity, not comfort. They should illuminate trade-offs, highlight assumptions, and spur the tough conversations.
If everyone in the room nods along to a framework without debate, that’s a warning sign, you might be dealing with fluff that is too abstract to challenge anyone.
A robust framework, in contrast, often provokes argument. It forces choices. (“Wait, if these are our three core priorities, are we willing to drop everything else? Who’s accountable for each? What will we say no to?”)
In high-stakes strategy, comfort is not the point; clarity is. The right framework, wielded well, can cut through analysis paralysis and unite a team on what matters. The wrong framework (or the wrong use of one) can paper over disagreement and lull you into a false consensus.
For founders plotting a product pivot or execs steering a transformation, this distinction is life-saving. Your time and resources are too precious to waste on plans that look good but won’t hold up in the trenches.
And in an AI-saturated content landscape, there’s going to be a lot of “framework fluff” floating around. The leaders who thrive will be those who can smell the difference, who demand substance over style.
How to Test a Framework’s True Value?
A few practical questions and mindset shifts to help you separate a fluff framework from a forged one:
“What’s the problem this framework solves?”
Great frameworks are answers to specific, pressing questions. If you can’t identify a real problem or decision that a framework is clarifying, be wary. Make sure it’s tackling the right problem – ideally one you’ve felt pain from.
Is it anchored in a unique situation or just a generic checklist?
“True strategy embodies our unique situation… not following others.” A solid framework should feel tailored to your context (or a context very much like yours).
“Is there real insight behind each part?” Do they represent meaningful insights or just buzzwords?
For example, a step that says “Be customer-centric” is fluffy unless it’s backed by a specific insight about your customer or market. Look for the story or evidence behind each element.
If a framework was developed by an industry veteran, each piece likely has a story (“We added this box because we kept missing X in our projects until we made it explicit”). If those stories aren’t apparent, you might be dealing with what Rumelt calls “gibberish masquerading as strategy”. Push for concrete logic: why these elements, and not others?
“Was it forged in practice?”
Find out the origin if you can. Was this framework created in a vacuum or through iterations in the field?
If it’s something an AI or even a smart analyst could dream up in an afternoon, it likely hasn’t been pressure-tested.
“Does it force me to make choices?”
A useful framework will sharpen your focus. It should highlight trade-offs and force prioritization. If you can adopt a framework without changing any of your behaviors or plans, it’s comforting fluff. The best frameworks often make you uncomfortable at first!
Think of how OKR goal-setting makes you pick a few objectives, or how Jobs-to-be-Done might reveal that your favorite feature isn’t that important to customers’ core job.
“Am I using this as a compass or a life jacket?”
This is a gut check. A compass provides direction; a life jacket keeps you afloat.
Use frameworks to clarify thinking, not to avoid thinking. They’re not magic wands that do the work for you. You still have to navigate the terrain. The framework just ensures you’re reading the map correctly.
Remember, a framework isn’t the answer, it’s a way to get to answers through structured thought.
The Human Edge in the Age of AI Frameworks
After that humbling question from my colleague, I eventually found my response. If someone asks me now, “Aren’t you worried? AI can generate a dozen frameworks while you’re still sipping your coffee,”
I’ll say:
I’ll take one framework forged in real insight over 100 generated outlines, any day. In fact, in a world where AI can produce an endless supply of plausible-sounding strategies, those who lead with genuine insight will stand out even more. It’s easy to get a framework; it’s hard to get it right.
The true value of a strategic framework lies not in how fast you can produce it, but in how deeply you understand it and believe in it.
Frameworks are not a means to an end. They bring clarity, alignment, and effective action. Whether you source ideas from an AI or a whiteboard brainstorm, the final strategy you run with must carry the imprint of your team’s thinking and conviction.
As one commentary on the AI revolution observed, when it comes to strategy, people seek “what algorithms can’t replicate”; the human judgment refined by principle and philosophy.
So use the tools of our age, by all means. Enjoy the convenience of AI-generated templates as a starting point if you wish. But never forget that a framework’s power comes from the human toil and insight behind it.
Lived experience and your experience are the X-factor that turns a run-of-the-mill framework into a game-changing one.