Some Things Just Take Time

written on March 20, 2026

Trees take quite a while to grow. If someone 50 years ago planted a row of oaks or a chestnut tree on your plot of land, you have something that no amount of money or effort can replicate. The only way is to wait. Tree-lined roads, old gardens, houses sheltered by decades of canopy: if you want to start fresh on an empty plot, you will not be able to get that.

Because some things just take time.

We know this intuitively. We pay premiums for Swiss watches, Hermès bags and old properties precisely because of the time embedded in them. Either because of the time it took to build them or because of their age. We require age minimums for driving, voting, and drinking because we believe maturity only comes through lived experience.

Yet right now we also live in a time of instant gratification, and it’s entering how we build software and companies. As much as we can speed up code generation, the real defining element of a successful company or an Open Source project will continue to be tenacity. The ability of leadership or the maintainers to stick to a problem for years, to build relationships, to work through challenges fundamentally defined by human lifetimes.

The current generation of startup founders and programmers is obsessed with speed. Fast iteration, rapid deployment, doing everything as quickly as possible. For many things, that’s fine. You can go fast, leave some quality on the table, and learn something along the way.

But there are things where speed is actively harmful, where the friction exists for a reason. Compliance is one of those cases. There’s a strong desire to eliminate everything that processes like SOC2 require, and an entire industry of turnkey solutions has sprung up to help — Delve just being one example, there are more.

There’s a feeling that all the things that create friction in your life should be automated away. That human involvement should be replaced by AI-based decision-making. Because it is the friction of the process that is the problem. When in fact many times the friction, or that things just take time, is precisely the point.

There’s a reason we have cooling-off periods for some important decisions in one’s life. We recognize that people need time to think about what they’re doing, and that doing something right once doesn’t mean much because you need to be able to do it over a longer period of time.

AI writes code fast which isn’t news anymore. What’s interesting is that we’re pushing this force downstream: we seemingly have this desire to ship faster than ever, to run more experiments and that creates a new desire, one to remove all the remaining friction of reviews, designing and configuring infrastructure, anything that slows the pipeline. If the machines are so great, why do we even need checklists or permission systems? Express desire, enjoy result.

Because we now believe it is important for us to just do everything faster. But increasingly, I also feel like this means that the shelf life of much of the software being created today — software that people and businesses should depend on — can be measured only in months rather than decades, and the relationships alongside.

In one of last year’s earlier YC batches, there was already a handful that just disappeared without even saying what they learned or saying goodbye to their customers. They just shut down their public presence and moved on to other things. And to me, that is not a sign of healthy iteration. That is a sign of breaking the basic trust you need to build a relationship with customers. A proper shutdown takes time and effort, and our current environment treats that as time not wisely spent. Better to just move on to the next thing.

This is extending to Open Source projects as well. All of a sudden, everything is an Open Source project, but many of them only have commits for a week or so, and then they go away because the motivation of the creator already waned. And in the name of experimentation, that is all good and well, but what makes a good Open Source project is that you think and truly believe that the person that created it is either going to stick with it for a very long period of time, or they are able to set up a strategy for succession, or they have created enough of a community that these projects will stand the test of time in one form or another.

Relatedly, I’m also increasingly skeptical of anyone who sells me something that supposedly saves my time. When all that I see is that everybody who is like me, fully onboarded into AI and agentic tools, seemingly has less and less time available because we fall into a trap where we’re immediately filling it with more things.

We all sell each other the idea that we’re going to save time, but that is not what’s happening. Any time saved gets immediately captured by competition. Someone who actually takes a breath is outmaneuvered by someone who fills every freed-up hour with new output. There is no easy way to bank the time and it just disappears.

I feel this acutely. I’m very close to the red-hot center of where economic activity around AI is taking place, and more than anything, I have less and less time, even when I try to purposefully scale back and create the space. For me this is a problem. It’s a problem because even with the best intentions, I actually find it very hard to create quality when we are quickly commoditizing software, and the machines make it so appealing.

I keep coming back to the trees. I’ve been maintaining Open Source projects for close to two decades now. The last startup I worked on, I spent 10 years at. That’s not because I’m particularly disciplined or virtuous. It’s because I or someone else, planted something, and then I kept showing up, and eventually the thing had roots that went deeper than my enthusiasm on any given day. That’s what time does! It turns some idea or plan into a commitment and a commitment into something that can shelter and grow other people.

Nobody is going to mass-produce a 50-year-old oak. And nobody is going to conjure trust, or quality, or community out of a weekend sprint. The things I value most — the projects, the relationships, the communities — are all things that took years to become what they are. No tool, no matter how fast, was going to get them there sooner.

We recently planted a new tree with Colin. I want it to grow into a large one. I know that’s going to take time, and I’m not in a rush.