Let me take you on a trip back to 2024, when I thought I was about to revolutionize corporate communication with a specialized AI writing tool. Spoiler alert: I did not.

Instead, I got a front-row seat to one of the greatest entrepreneurial failures of my life (so far). It was equal parts exhilarating, humbling, and, in hindsight, hilarious. Imagine showing up to the California Gold Rush with a teaspoon, ready to strike it rich—only to realize everyone else brought bulldozers.

The Grand Vision (And the First Cracks)

It all started with what I thought was a brilliant idea: a Swiss-based AI writing tool designed specifically for corporate communication. It would be secure, refined, and tailored to the high standards of professionals who needed AI assistance without compromising their voice—or their data.

I saw the rise of AI content tools and thought, “I can do better. I should do better.” And if that sounds a little arrogant, it’s because it was. But hey, isn’t that the spirit of entrepreneurship? A little arrogance, a lot of optimism, and just enough self-delusion to ignore all the warning signs?

The cracks started showing early. First, I outsourced development to talent I didn’t fully control, which is like trying to build a spaceship while standing outside the launchpad, hoping the engineers inside get it right. Then came the marketing problem—I didn’t have the kind of budget needed to make a splash, so I tried guerrilla tactics. Unfortunately, my competition had armies.

And then, perhaps most tragically, I overestimated the market demand for a 100% Swiss-based, ultra-secure AI tool. Turns out, most people care more about “Does it work?” than “Where does its server live?”

The Reality Check

The first big lesson? Writing with AI is an art, not a science. It helped me map out my own writing process—how I structure content, how I craft a story, and where AI can be a useful co-pilot rather than an annoying backseat driver.

But the real kicker was learning how to turn AI into a creativity amplifier rather than a creativity killer. AI isn’t meant to replace human writing—it’s meant to make it faster, sharper, and, when used well, more authentic. Ironically, this was the thing I had to learn rather than the thing I managed to sell.

And then there was the “big tech problem.” Competing against Silicon Valley giants in AI is like trying to open a cozy neighborhood café while Starbucks is building a flagship store next door, giving away free coffee and promising to personally write your name correctly on the cup. I was playing a different game, but I was playing it on their turf.

Never bring a teaspoon to a gold rush

Looking back, I spent a good chunk of 2024 panning for gold with a teaspoon while the big players were strip-mining entire mountains. And I took my eyes off the ball. Other projects, other priorities—the things that mattered—got less of my attention because I was too busy chasing an AI dream that, frankly, didn’t have the right foundations.

But failure isn’t the end of the story. It’s the setup for the next one.

I walked away with a sharper sense of what works in AI writing, how to wield it as a tool (not a crutch), and an appreciation for the brutal reality of product-market fit. I also learned that sometimes, being a little less optimistic can save you a lot of headaches.

So, was it a failure? Absolutely. But was it worth it? Without a doubt. Did I use AI to produce this op-ed? Maybe. And the next time I go to a gold rush, you’d better believe I’m bringing something bigger than a teaspoon.