Most people I work with are trying to become indispensable. I spend my time trying to become unnecessary. That sounds backwards, so let me explain the difference — because it's also the difference between me and the operators and agencies a founder might hire instead. An agency is designed to keep you as a client. An operator is often measured by how much runs through them. Both, by design, make you a little more dependent every month. That's not a criticism of their intent — it's the incentive built into the arrangement. The longer you need them, the better it works for them. My job is the opposite. I get handed a hard, ambiguous problem, I build the thing, I set a real foundation under it — and then the win is when a capable operator can take it over and scale it without me in the room. I'm not building a dependency. I'm building something that no longer needs me. Here's why that matters even if you never hire anyone: dependency on a single person is a hidden fragility. It feels like control. It reads like importance. But it's the crack that doesn't show until the load shifts. In M&A, buyers actually price this — a business that leans too heavily on its founder gets discounted, sometimes steeply, versus one that runs on people, process, and structure. The market is telling you something founders don't want to hear: your irreplaceability is a liability on the balance sheet. The fix isn't heroics. It's two disciplines most builders skip. First: document the decisions, not just the outcomes. Anyone can inherit a result. Almost no one can inherit the reasoning — why you chose this customer over that one, why you killed the feature everyone loved, what you'd do if the number moved the wrong way. Outcomes tell your successor what happened. Decisions tell them how to think when you're gone. That's the part that actually transfers. Second: treat the handoff as the test, not the goodbye. A clean handoff is the only honest proof the foundation is solid. If the thing wobbles the moment you step back, you didn't build a company — you built a role, and you're standing in it. The transfer is where you find out whether the structure was ever real. I've come to believe the strongest thing you can build is something that outlives your involvement in it. Not because you're leaving tomorrow. Because durability and dependency are opposites, and you have to choose which one you're actually building. So here's the question worth sitting with: Is your company built to outgrow you — or to need you?