Finding Clients
The Mirror Test: The Question Most Independent Operators Never Ask Themselves
September 3, 2026 · Bradley Jacobs

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If you sell expertise for a living, your business model rests on a single premise: you have the answers. Companies bring you in because you've seen the problem before and can compress five years of trial and error into a ninety-day engagement.
Chris Deaver spent his career discovering that this premise has a ceiling - and that the best leaders he worked with hit it early, then deliberately broke through it.
Deaver shaped culture from the inside at Apple, Disney, and Dell, working with Tim Cook and other C-level executives on the shift from think different to work different together. He's now co-founder of BraveCore and co-author of Brave Together, a book on co-creation selected by the Next Big Idea Club. Here are the ideas from his conversation with Bradley Jacobs that translate most directly to anyone building a practice alone.
The problem with best practices
When something is genuinely new, the copy-paste answer doesn't exist yet. Deaver's observation is that most people, when stuck, immediately look outward - for the case study, the playbook, the person who's done it before. That instinct works on solved problems. It fails on original ones.
His alternative is the mirror test, and it comes down to one anchoring question you carry every day: What do I need to do differently?
That's not an invitation to ruminate. Deaver is explicit about the distinction - endless self-examination is a trap, and he agrees with the critics there. The mirror test is forward-facing and it demands an answer. Ask it daily and honestly, and the obstacles you couldn't name start to surface, either from you or from someone who has permission to be blunt with you.
For a fractional executive, the question gets uncomfortably specific. Why did that pipeline stall? Why does every deal arrive through the same two referral partners? Why are you still pricing by the hour when you swore you'd stop two years ago? The answers are usually available. They're just unpleasant.
Deleting is harder than doing
Deaver points to the Warren Buffett exercise - list twenty-five things you want to accomplish, circle the top five - but insists people miss the second half. The bottom twenty aren't the "later" list. They're the avoid-at-all-costs list.
He tells a sharper version of the same idea from Apple. Steve Jobs would ask Jony Ive what he'd sacrificed that day. Ive would come back with a list of things he'd dropped, and Jobs would wave it off - he wasn't asking about the things Ive didn't care about. He wanted the things Ive genuinely wanted to do and didn't.
That's the real test. Anyone can cut what they were never excited about. The discipline is cutting the good idea, the interesting project, the client you'd enjoy but who pulls you off your line.
Deaver's framing is that editing is harder than building and at least as important. Amazon sold books before it sold everything, and built AWS only after it had earned the capability. The sequence was the strategy. Independents tend to run the opposite play, stacking three service lines and two audiences at once and wondering why none of them compound.
Bravery has a ceiling when it's solo
The word "brave" carries an unhelpful connotation for people who work alone. It sounds like grit - working harder, holding on longer, absorbing more. Deaver's argument is that individual bravery runs out, and the leaders who built durable things all made the same move at roughly the same point.
Ed Catmull, who co-founded Pixar, came in as the credentialed expert with a PhD and spent his early years answering everyone's questions. He eventually recognized that his job wasn't supplying answers but asking questions good enough that people carried them around. Leadership is leading with a question, then integrating once the best idea has won.
An Apple engineering leader who runs an organization of roughly four thousand people describes his job as coaching: people's ideas are like their kids, mine are like my kids, and if I care about theirs as much as mine, magic happens. That team ships the camera systems and Face ID.
For solo operators, the practical version is what Deaver calls a brain trust: a small group with genuinely different wiring who will tell you the truth about your work. This isn't a mastermind group. It's a handful of people whose disagreement you actually take seriously.
The case for treating culture as strategy
The most striking story Deaver tells involves a solar company founder. The business was doing $15 million, the founder wanted $45 million and an exit in three years, and the team of roughly a hundred was churning at twenty to twenty-five percent. His diagnosis: the team wasn't committed enough. His proposed fix: team building.
Deaver went the other direction. He asked whether the team knew about the 3x-and-sell goal, and what it looked like to them when the person capturing most of that upside was visible mainly on vacation. Then the harder question: what are the two or three things your future culture will live or die by? Apple has privacy. Disney has happiness. What's yours?
The founder and his co-founder - who didn't always get along - built a brain trust and worked the question for months. A year later he called with an update: attrition way down, people who wanted to be there, and a million-dollar day. Revenue had gone from $15 million to $150 million.
The slow answer looked like five steps backward and was the only thing that would have worked. Culture, done properly, isn't a slide in the deck. It's the goose rather than the golden egg.
What the highlight reel leaves out
The part of this conversation that lands hardest isn't strategic.
The year Brave Together launched - Forbes, Fast Company, the Next Big Idea Club selection, dream clients - Deaver's life came apart. A divorce moving at full speed. The company he'd been at acquired, his role gone. Lawyers, accountants, a California burn rate. He wasn't sleeping and his health was failing.
He and Ian had a video shoot booked for the book. Ian essentially carried him through it; they still call it their weekend at Bernie's. Deaver did the interview as a zombie and the footage came out fine, which is roughly how these things go.
What got him through wasn't a framework. Ian called and told him to go outside and put his hand on a tree. Deaver, decidedly not one of those people, walked a trail he'd hiked hundreds of times, put his hand on a tree, and something shifted.
His conclusion, arrived at almost in real time: relationships are the differentiator among founders who last. He points to the Harvard longevity research and its finding that life satisfaction comes down to relationships, full stop. He'd add that going out on your own is a spiritual experience if you let it be - possibly one of the few genuinely available in modern life.
For anyone who left a recognizable brand to build something of their own, this is the part nobody warns you about. The name on your old business card creates an expectation - of yourself, mostly - that the messy middle will be brief. It usually isn't.
Where to start
Ask what you need to do differently, and answer honestly. Cut something you actually wanted to keep. Find two or three people whose disagreement you'll take seriously. And stop reading the hard year as evidence you made a mistake.
Chris Deaver's work with BraveCore is at bravecore.co, and he's active on LinkedIn. Brave Together is on Amazon, and BraveCore recently launched a Maven course on the brain trust method with a free lightning lesson session.
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