Ray Kroc was having the kind of day that makes you question your life choices, like accidentally joining a mime troupe. It was 1954, and he was a 52-year-old travelling salesman selling Multimixer milkshake machines—the Nokia 3310 of dairy beverage technology.

His biggest sale typically involved convincing a diner owner that they needed to make two shakes simultaneously instead of one. Then he got an order that made him spit out his coffee.

Eight Multimixers. From a single restaurant. In San Bernardino, California.

Most salespeople would’ve processed the order, cashed the commission check, and spent the rest of the day wondering if they should buy a lottery ticket.

Kroc, however, possessed the curiosity that historically leads to either great discoveries or massive explosions (sometimes both). He drove 1,400 miles to see what kind of operation needed forty simultaneous milkshakes.

He found two brothers running a burger diner with the efficiency of a Swiss watch. The burgers were assembled in fifteen seconds, and the portion sizes were predetermined. The cooking procedures were identical, and everything was systematised down to the exact angle of pickle placement.

(Say that fast three times, “pickle placement, puckle playmate, pocket paymode.”)

Here’s where most people would’ve admired the operation and gone on their way.

(Or possibly written a thoughtful case study for Harvard Business Review titled “Operational Excellence in Quick-Service Dining: A Paradigmatic Analysis.”)

Kroc looked at this machine and thought, “I’m going to copy this everywhere.” Not “Let me spend eighteen months developing a comprehensive market entry strategy.” Not “Perhaps we should commission a feasibility study.

“Maybe I should ask the brothers if they want to franchise this.”

Just: “This works. I’m doing it again. And again. And again.”

The McDonald’s brothers

In the gloriously chaotic aftermath of World War II, while most of America was busy discovering suburban neuroses and inventing increasingly absurd household appliances, two brothers in San Bernardino were accidentally committing first-degree murder against the entire restaurant industry.

Richard and Maurice McDonald—who possessed the kind of systematic thinking that makes efficiency experts weep tears of pure joy—took one look at their drive-in restaurant and decided that maybe, just maybe, the solution to faster food wasn’t adding more roller-skating carhops but eliminating everything that made dining feel like a theatrical production directed by caffeinated chaos gremlins.

Armed with the revolutionary concept that doing fewer things brilliantly beats doing everything adequately, they transformed McDonald’s Bar-B-Q from a menu-heavy carnival of culinary confusion into a precision-engineered burger assembly line. What started as a modest drive-in would eventually metastasise into the golden-arched empire we know today.

Perfectionists and a doer

While the brothers spent time perfecting their single location like a Formula 1 car engineered by monks, Kroc started opening identical restaurants faster than a virus.

He didn’t wait for the perfect location, conduct extensive demographic studies, or hire consultants to optimise the customer journey experience through comprehensive stakeholder alignment workshops.

He just found places that looked roughly right and started building golden arches like he was planting flags on behalf of the Republic of Hamburgers.

The brothers had one perfect restaurant. Kroc had 100 imperfect ones that got better daily through sheer repetition—like learning to juggle flaming torches while riding a unicycle through a library.

While they optimised, he multiplied.

In many industries today, the focus can often shift toward detailed planning and perfecting strategies, leading to overthinking. Instead of getting caught up in extensive boardroom discussions about go-to-market strategies and optimising customer experiences, it’s essential to prioritise action and adaptability.

The most successful companies are in the market, learning and adjusting as they go. They build momentum through experimentation and real-world feedback, quickly iterating on their products or services. The first versions may not be perfect, but they create offerings that resonate with their audience through ongoing improvements.

It’s important to remember that while a polished positioning statement can be valuable, what truly matters is the ability to evolve based on market demands. Emphasising experimentation and being willing to learn from each process step can yield far greater benefits than waiting for a flawless strategy. Ultimately, staying engaged and responsive to customer needs can lead to greater success.

Markets don’t care about perfect strategy. They care about who shows up consistently.

Three things you can start doing before your next coffee goes cold

1. The Kroc Multiplication Method: Take whatever’s working (even slightly) and do it again immediately. Don’t improve it first, optimise it, or run it through the brand committee for theological approval. Copy-paste your success like a particularly efficient virus spreading through the business ecosystem.

2. The 80% Launch Protocol: Ship when you are 80% ready—not 95%. Not “just need to tweak the colour palette.” Eighty percent. Then, improve it while customers use it, like performing surgery on a tap-dancing patient.

3. The McDonald’s Real Estate Gambit: Pick a metric that matters (Kroc obsessed over location foot traffic like a stalker with excellent commercial instincts) and optimise for volume, not perfection. More attempts equals more data equals better decisions equals momentum that compounds faster than interest rates designed by mathematical sadists.

Ray Kroc didn’t invent the hamburger or the restaurant. He just took something that worked and repeated it with the relentless persistence of a particularly determined woodpecker attacking a concrete tree.

The McDonald brothers perfected one location. Kroc built an empire by being aggressively, systematically, and almost remarkably consistent. He turned momentum into a competitive moat wider than the gap between marketing promises and actual results.

Sometimes the most strategic thing you can do is stop strategising and start multiplying. Motion beats meditation. Action beats analysis. Doing beats discussing every single bloody time.

Time to stop perfecting and start photocopying.

This article was written with the assistance of AI.