Think in Moments, Not Slides

In an engineering project, the desired outcome is measurable, and so is every element of the solution. The result is a direct sum of its parts.

But that’s an exception. In most real-world things, take music for example, the connection between the measurable elements (notes, frequencies) and the outcome isn’t measurable — it’s qualitative, subjective. That’s why most things are designed, not engineered.

That uncertainty leads to a common pitfall, especially for beginners: they put the cart before the horse. They start with the building blocks instead of the impact. But doing so is limiting, because it locks them into a framework before they even know what they want to create.

My drawing teacher told me that even if I’m just doodling, always do it on a blank page, not checkered paper. Because my lines would start to follow the grid involuntarily.

That’s a small example — but it happens in every medium.

In interior design, you might fall back on “tried and true” solutions or popular trends before finding what’s right for a specific client.
In writing, you might be tempted to commit to an outline before you begin. That can feel safe, but it can prevent you from following the natural chain of thought.


The point is, you feel like you’re making progress, but the outcome suffers.

The same thing happens in pitching.


Founders, already busy, don’t spend much time thinking about it. To them, a pitch (the experience) and a pitch deck (an object) are often interchangeable terms, and they default to what they know: slides.

The first thing they usually do is open a new file and start naming slides (“problem,” “solution,” “team”). That locks them into a “list” mindset and pulls them away from creating a unified narrative — which is how people actually like to receive information.

At best, the result is generic and subpar.
At worst - it’s death by PowerPoint: a pitch so overloaded with bullet points that the speaker ends up reading instead of connecting, while the audience quietly zones out.

Practice this Instead


When you sit down to build your pitch, slow down.

Start with a pencil and a piece of paper. Think in moments first, not slides.

Ask yourself: What’s the most important moment in my presentation? What do I want to happen in that moment? Is it a buildup, a supporting step, or a big reveal?

However rough, that first draft will likely help flesh out the essence of your pitch - precisely because you’re resisting the urge to mold it into a template.

As you develop it later - one moment might require three slides to build up; another might need none - just a pause and a line spoken directly.

Often, the most powerful moments in a pitch happen between slides. Like in a comic book: the buildup on one slide, the surprise on the next.
For example, a messy jumble of medical data on one slide transforms, with a single click, into a simple visual that shows how the disease develops - instantly making the value clear.

That’s why all professional artistic work has such a big pre-production stage. Movies can take years to prepare for what will take only one month to shoot. The most important decisions happen early, and once you’ve already produced something, changes are difficult and expensive.


Try to spend more time in the pre-production of your pitch design.
When you think in moments before you think in slides, you focus on the experience itself.


That way, you’re designing for impact, not just filling in templates.