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№ 07 scope Jul 11, 2024 · 8 min read

Your board wants an AI strategy by Thursday

You just got the calendar invite. The board wants to know your AI strategy. Here is how to write one in 72 hours that is honest, actionable, and does not promise the moon.


You just got the calendar invite. Thursday, 2pm. “AI Strategy Discussion.” The board wants to know what you’re doing about AI. You have 72 hours.

This happens constantly now. A board member read something, attended a dinner, talked to a portfolio company that’s “doing amazing things with AI.” Now they want to know your plan. The implied question: are we falling behind?

Most teams respond in one of two ways. They grab a vendor’s pitch deck and present it as strategy. Or they spend 60 hours building a 40-slide fantasy about an AI-powered future that would take three years and $10M to build. Both are wrong. The vendor deck is someone else’s strategy. The fantasy deck is a wish list, not a plan.

The right answer fits on one page. Here’s how to write it.

Start with the honest self-assessment

Before you write anything, answer one question honestly: where are you today?

Most companies are at zero. No models in production. No eval framework. No one on the team who has shipped an AI system. This is fine. Most companies are at zero. Pretending otherwise — claiming you’re “experimenting with AI” because someone ran a ChatGPT demo last quarter — wastes the board’s time and yours.

Here’s a simple maturity framework. Not for the slides — for your own clarity.

Level 0: Awareness. You know AI exists. Your team uses ChatGPT for personal productivity. There are no AI systems in your product or operations. This is where most companies are, and saying so is not embarrassing. It’s honest.

Level 1: Experimentation. You’ve built a prototype. Maybe a RAG system over your docs, maybe a classification model for support tickets. It works in demos. It’s not in production. You’ve learned something, but you haven’t shipped anything.

Level 2: Production. You have an AI system running in production, handling real traffic, with monitoring and a human in the loop. You know what it costs and how it performs. You’ve learned what breaks.

Level 3: Operational. You have multiple AI systems in production. You have an eval framework. You have a team that knows how to build, deploy, and maintain these systems. You’re making decisions about what to build next based on data from what you’ve already built.

Be honest about where you are. If you’re at Level 0, say so. The board would rather hear “we’re at zero, and here’s our plan to get to one” than “we’re exploring synergies across our AI-powered innovation pipeline.” One of those is a starting point. The other is noise.

Pick the first bet

The board does not need a comprehensive AI strategy. They need to know what you’re going to do first, why, and how you’ll know if it worked.

Pick one use case. One. Not three “strategic pillars.” Not a “phased roadmap” with 12 initiatives. One thing.

The criteria for picking it are simple. It should be internal — not customer-facing — so the blast radius of failure is small. It should be measurable — you can quantify the current cost or performance. It should be achievable — a small team can build a working prototype in 6 to 10 weeks. And it should teach you something — the process of building it should reveal whether your data is ready, whether your team can execute, and whether AI actually works for your problem domain.

Good first bets: automating a manual data-processing step, classifying or routing incoming requests, extracting structured data from unstructured documents, summarizing long-form content for internal review.

Bad first bets: a customer-facing chatbot, an AI-powered product feature, anything that requires real-time performance or has regulatory implications. Those are fine projects. They’re terrible first projects.

The board will push back. They’ll say “that sounds small.” That’s the point. Small is how you learn without betting the company. Small is how you build the muscle to do the big thing later. Tell them: “This is the project that teaches us whether we can do the bigger ones.”

Size the investment

The board thinks in dollars. Give them dollars.

A typical first AI project — one engineer or a small team, 8 to 10 weeks, cloud compute, API costs — runs $30K to $80K all-in. That’s the pilot. Be specific: “Two engineers for 8 weeks, $15K in API and compute costs, total investment approximately $55K.”

Then tell them what happens after the pilot. If it works — meaning it hits the success criteria you defined — the production build is another $80K to $150K over 8 to 12 weeks. If it doesn’t work, you’ve spent $55K and learned something concrete about your AI readiness. That’s a bounded bet.

Compare this to the alternative: hiring a consulting firm to write an AI strategy. That costs $200K to $500K and produces a document. You can produce a working prototype for less than the cost of the strategy deck, and the prototype teaches you more than any deck ever will.

The three things the board actually cares about

Strip away the jargon, and the board has three questions. Answer these and you’re done.

Risk. “What’s the worst case?” The worst case is you spend $55K and the project doesn’t work. You’ll know within 8 weeks. There’s no existential risk. The technology risk is low — you’re using commodity models and standard infrastructure. The real risk is organizational: can your team learn to build and operate AI systems? That’s exactly what the pilot answers.

Timeline. “When will we see results?” Pilot results in 8 to 10 weeks. Go/no-go decision at the end of the pilot. If it’s a go, production deployment in 12 to 16 weeks after that. First measurable impact within 6 months of starting. Don’t promise faster. Don’t promise slower. Be specific.

Competitive position. “Are we falling behind?” This is the question that triggered the meeting. Answer it honestly. Your competitors who have announced AI features are mostly in one of two states: they shipped something small and real (good for them, you can catch up), or they shipped a press release (ignore it). The competitive advantage in AI does not come from who announces first. It comes from who builds the operational muscle to ship, measure, and iterate. That muscle takes time. Starting now — with a small, real project — is how you build it.

The one-page memo

Here’s the format. One page, four sections.

Where we are. Two sentences about your current AI maturity. Be honest.

What we’ll build first. A description of the pilot — what it does, why this use case, what the success criteria are.

What it costs. Pilot investment, timeline, what happens if it works, what happens if it doesn’t.

How we’ll know it worked. Specific metrics. “Process time drops from 8 minutes to 2 minutes per unit.” “Classification accuracy exceeds 85% on a held-out test set.” “Cost per processed document drops from $3.20 to $0.80.”

That’s it. No technology deep dives. No vendor comparisons. No slides about the history of machine learning. The board doesn’t need to understand how AI works. They need to understand what you’re going to do, what it costs, and how you’ll measure success.

After the meeting

The board will either say yes, say no, or ask clarifying questions. If they say yes, start the pilot on Monday. Don’t let it become a planning exercise. The plan is simple — build the thing, measure it, decide.

If they ask questions, the most common ones are: “Why aren’t we doing something bigger?” (because we need to learn to walk before we run), “What is [competitor] doing?” (we’ll address that in the next section of the memo), and “Do we need to hire an AI team?” (not yet — the pilot will tell us what skills we’re missing).

If they say no — which is rare once you’ve framed it as a $55K bounded bet — ask what would change their mind. Usually the answer reveals a concern you can address.

The point of the memo is not to be comprehensive. It’s to be credible. A one-page memo that says “here’s what we’ll do, here’s what it costs, here’s how we’ll know” is more credible than a 40-slide deck that says “AI will transform everything.” The board has seen enough fantasy decks. Give them a plan.

tl;dr

The pattern. Teams respond to board AI pressure with either a vendor pitch deck or a 40-slide fantasy, neither of which is an actual strategy. The fix. Write a one-page memo with an honest self-assessment, one specific pilot, a bounded investment, and measurable success criteria. The outcome. The board approves a small bet that teaches you more about your AI readiness than any strategy document ever could.


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