David Chung
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ai coaching positioning mindset

Clients Aren't Buying AI. They're Buying Relief

I'm good at finding the issue and reaching for the fix, and the fix usually has tech in it. What I'm working on is the two things I skip on the way there: sitting in the pain, and painting what the work feels like once it's gone.

A woman leaning back in a wooden desk chair in a warm home office, eyes closed and exhaling, shoulders dropped. A laptop sits dimmed and half-ignored on the desk beside her.

People aren’t buying AI. They’re buying relief from the thing that’s grinding on them, and a picture of what the work feels like once it’s gone.

I’m good at the first half of that. Someone describes their week and I can hear the friction inside it. The follow-up that never happens. The hour after every call that vanishes into notes. The task they dread on Sunday night. I find the issue fast, and I like moving to a fix. That practical bias is real, and it’s most of why people respond to how I work.

But fast-to-solution has a cost, and I want to be honest about it.

I move to the tech too quickly

The moment I see the issue, my instinct is to reach for the fix. And the fix usually has tech in it. A workflow, a trigger, a bit of AI to take the dreaded part off their plate.

Nothing wrong with the fix. The problem is what I skip on the way there. I jump the two parts that do most of the persuading, and that deliver most of the relief.

Sitting in the pain longer

The first part I shortcut is the pain itself.

When I name the friction and move straight to a solution, I’ve shown them I’m capable. I haven’t shown them I understand. Those are different things. People need to feel the weight named back to them before they trust that the fix is pointed at the right problem. Naming it fully, out loud, is its own kind of relief. I rush past it because I already see where it’s going.

Painting the after

The second part I shortcut is the picture of the other side.

I’ll describe the mechanism. This connects to that, this runs on its own. What they need is the feeling of the result. What does Monday look like when the grind is gone? What can they finally build when the admin isn’t eating the week? What does it feel like to have systems holding the business up instead of holding it up by hand?

That picture is the actual product. Not the workflow. The version of their practice they can suddenly see. I leave it on the table more than I should, because to me the mechanism and the outcome are the same thing. To them they are not.

The tech is the bridge, not the point

So that’s the thing I’m working on. Slow down in the gap between finding the issue and reaching for the tool.

Expand the pain until they feel understood. Draw the after until they want it. Then bring the tech, which is only ever the bridge between the two. Built right, it carries them from the grind they walked in with to the better way they could only picture.

A system that doesn’t work creates a worse anxiety than the one it was meant to cure, so the build still has to be real. But the build was never the point. The relief is the product, and so is the version of their business they can finally see.

The sentence I’m aiming for isn’t “wow, look at that system.” It’s the quieter one. “I can see it now, and I’ve got this handled.”

The tech is just how I get them there.

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