We could explain the feature.
But not the “why” behind it and that’s what the stakeholders really cared about.
The dish had everything going for it: great texture, clean flavors, and beautiful presentation. The guests were clearly impressed… until they asked why it had been made that way. They weren’t just diners. The long wooden table was full of people who loved food enough to ask questions about it, other chefs swapping notes in between bites, culinary students leaning in to catch every detail, and old friends from the kitchen world who still believed every good plate deserved a good backstory.
The room smelled of fresh herbs and something sweet baking for dessert. The talk was easy and warm, but under it all was a quiet curiosity, a dish wasn’t just eaten here, it was tasted, picked apart, and understood. They wanted to know the story, not just the flavors.
But when they asked their questions, the young chef hesitated. She’d prepared it, cooked it, and plated it. But she couldn’t explain the reasoning behind the choices, how it fit into the overall meal, or what problem it was solving. She was kind of dumbstruck, leaving the guests searching for more answers!
Seeing the guests waiting for answers, the Head Chef stepped forward because someone had to help them taste the bigger story behind the plate. He didn’t just speak to fill the silence; he stepped in so the young chef wouldn’t lose the moment she had worked so hard for.
He described how this course bridged the heavier second course and the refreshing dessert. But he didn’t just tell them; he spoke like he was letting them in on a secret. “See, the last dish was rich, full of butter and spice,” he said, his voice calm but full of quiet pride. “If we had gone straight to dessert, you would still have that heaviness on your tongue. So I added tamarind because its tang cuts through all that richness and makes your mouth wake up again.”
He pointed gently to the garnish. “And the hint of jaggery balances the sourness so it doesn’t shock you, it just lifts you.””Why now? Because right before something sweet, you want your taste buds alive, not tired. So when dessert arrives, you are ready for it, not dulled by what came before.” “That is why this fits right here, between heavy and sweet. It carries the warmth of the spices forward but clears the way for the final course.”
By dessert, the young chef wasn’t just plating anymore. She was standing beside the guests, answering their questions before they even asked. “This coconut mousse,” she said, her voice steady but warm, “it cools down the tanginess from the tamarind you just tasted. It resets your mouth so the sweetness feels light, not heavy.” She pointed to the small cluster of toasted nuts. “These add a final bit of crunch so every bite has something new. And when you’re done, there’s just enough sweetness to leave you wanting more, not weighed down.” She was speaking, explaining, connecting and this time, they weren’t just eating, they were tasting the whole story with her.
And when our Project Manager witnessed that shift, it struck a chord. Because something similar was playing out on our project. Our Team had just wrapped up a predictive maintenance feature. It was tested, stable, and delivered. We could walk through the screens and explain the logic. So when the client’s stakeholders joined the call, we were ready to present. The demo started well. We shared screens, explained the new flows, and walked through how the system adjusted thresholds based on recent shift data.
And then it happened.
One of the client’s stakeholders leaned in and asked, “Why did you set the threshold at this level? Is it tied to a past failure or based on a safety margin?” We hesitated. Not because we didn’t understand the code.
But because we didn’t fully understand their business reasoning.
Was the threshold based on past equipment behavior? Downtime patterns? A regulatory buffer? We glanced at each other. And in that split second, it was clear: We could present the feature. But we couldn’t yet explain what the client’s stakeholders cared about most.
That moment stuck. We’d built the dish. But we hadn’t understood how each feature fit into the larger story the stakeholders cared about. And we hadn’t yet learned to tell the story that made the food meaningful.After the meeting, our Project Manager put it simply: “We need to move up the value chain. We’re demoing, yes, but we’re not yet engaging. Let’s change that.”
From the very next release, we took a different approach.We asked the Customer Team to lead the stakeholder demo while we observed actively. We didn’t just note features; we studied the language. The way they framed a feature in terms of pain points. The way they used stories, real events from the factory floor, to justify design decisions. They never said, “We’ve added deviation checks.”
They said, “This is what alerts you before a machine fault becomes a two-hour stoppage.” It clicked. Features were not the story. Business value was, and we were missing the link between the two. So in the next release, we stepped in to co-lead the demo. But this time, we wrote the script. We mapped every screen to a stakeholder concern.
The Customer Team reviewed our draft. Edited here and there. But the effort was mostly ours.
During the live demo, our Tech Lead explained, “This threshold adapts to the last 12 shifts.” And their PM added, “So your floor team doesn’t need to touch the settings anymore. It adjusts itself.”
The energy changed. Stakeholders started asking deeper questions because they saw we understood.
And the Customer Team started stepping back because they saw we could handle it. By the third release, we ran the demo on our own. We began with the problem statement, connected it to feature behavior, preempted objections, and answered every question with context, not just code.
One stakeholder asked, “Will this solve the false positives that created panic during idle hours?” We replied, “Yes, that’s exactly why we filtered based on machine state. So alerts don’t fire when the equipment’s not in active use.” After that call, the Head of Engineering from the Customer Team messaged, “This is exactly how we’d have done it. Your team just made our job easier.” That wasn’t just feedback. It was proof. We had moved up the value chain doing the kind of storytelling and framing the Customer Team usually handled. And in doing so, a few things changed.
Their trust in us deepened.
Their engagement during reviews increased.
They began to delegate more because they knew we’d carry the message with care.
We started saving effort, nearly 5% each release, because we weren’t circling back trying to trace features to forgotten business goals.
5%
Most importantly, we weren’t just their implementation team anymore.
We had become a strategic partner.Just like that young chef, by the time dessert arrived, we weren’t just serving. We were owning the story. Looking to get your supplier team closer to your stakeholders? Let’s talk at info@wonderbiz.in
Key Takeaway
Demoing became meaningful when we stopped just showing what we built,
and started explaining why we built it that way and how it would help them.
