Whelm. The State of Ideal Product Flow

Good product managers have a gift, a superpower: they can see dysfunction—but not too much. They know when to act, and when to let things slide. They recognize that every system—every org chart, every roadmap, every messy cross-functional relationship—is a blend of fine-tuned machinery, barely-holding-together and fundamentally broken. They know the job isn’t to fix it all. But knowing what to fix.

We love big, grand metaphors for product management: the linchpin of innovation, the conductor of collaboration, the CEO of the product. Here’s another one: imagine a field biologist dropped into an unfamiliar ecosystem. Notebook in hand, quietly observing—how things grow, how they die, how they somehow survive against all odds. At first, the impulse is to fix it (whatever it is that needs fixing), to save it, to set things right. But soon, they realize their true power lies not in controlling all the chaos—but in understanding its rhythm.

That’s whelm.

Not overwhelm—that tidal wave of too much work, too much noise, too much pressure. Whelm is quieter. It’s the low, full hum of knowing there’s too much to fix, too much to optimize, too much to build—and that no matter how capable or efficient you are, most of it will go untouched. And that’s okay.

The moment you see the full backlog, whelm sets in. It comes from three places:

The Visibility Burden

As a PM, you see the organization’s bones. The misaligned incentives. The duct-taped workflows. The zombie projects no one has killed off. Most people can ignore these things—you get paid to notice them. And it’s exhausting.

The Responsibility Paradox

You’re responsible for outcomes, but control? That’s mostly out of reach. You operate in a world where authority is conceptual, diffuse, and success depends more on tact than title. Wins are shared. Failures? Those are mostly yours.

The Expertise Illusion

Product managers know a little about a lot. Enough code to grasp why something takes six months, but not enough to build it. Enough UX to hold their own in a debate, but not enough to design the thing themselves. This breadth creates a nagging feeling that you should know more—about everything.

Practices for Managing the Whelm

Some PMs burn out. Some turn cynical. The best ones? They figure out how to surf the waves and use whelm to power a flow instead of getting dragged under and ground into the pebbly shore.

Embrace Selective Ignorance

You don’t need to fix every broken thing. You don’t need to chase every urgent thing. Strategic neglect is a PM’s secret weapon—letting the small stuff smolder so you can focus on the blazes that actually matter.

Develop System Literacy

Fixing a problem is good. Understanding the system that produced it? Way better. Zoom out. Notice the patterns. Sometimes inefficiencies aren’t bugs—they’re pressure valves that prevent something worse from breaking.

Make Small, Smart Moves

Big, sweeping changes rarely stick. But a well-placed nudge? That can shift the whole system. Adjust a process. Refocus a team. Ask the right question at the right moment. The best PMs find the leverage points.

Build Decision Gardens

Stop making every decision yourself. Instead, design spaces where good decisions happen naturally. Create the frameworks, defaults, and incentives that guide teams toward the right calls—without needing constant hand-holding.

Respect the Run Mode

Not everything needs disruption. Some stuff just needs maintaining—fine-tuning, preventing backslides, keeping the lights on. Great PMs don’t just chase the shiny new thing; they take pride in good stewardship.

The Point?

You’re not trying to get rid of whelm. That would mean ignoring the messy, complex reality of the job. The goal is to get comfortable with it—to let it sharpen your focus, not cloud your mind.

Product management isn’t about solving all the problems. It’s about knowing which ones are solvable, which ones aren’t, and which ones are actually worth your time. The systems will always have cracks. The roadmaps will always shift. The org chart will never fully make sense. That’s not a bug—it’s just how the system runs.

So see the dysfunction—but not too much. Act—but not indiscriminately. The rest? It’s just noise.