
The “Big Lift”: A Developer’s Favorite Unit of Measure
After having the pleasure of leading countless products, shepherding creative and technical minds of varying degrees of enthusiasm, I’ve learned that asking about effort estimates is like opening Pandora’s box – if Pandora’s box was filled with increasingly creative ways to say “it’s complicated.”
When I ask “what’s the effort?” I’m not plotting one’s demise or crafting an ironclad contract in blood. I’m simply trying to determine if this task falls into the ‘afternoon project’ or ‘we’ll-all-be-retired-by-then’ category.
You see, developers have this charming tendency to hear a simple request and immediately architect a solution that could probably also solve world hunger and achieve cold fusion. I say “add a button,” they hear “rebuild the entire backend from scratch.”
So despite my best attempts at clear communication and my repeated assurances that these estimates won’t be carved into stone tablets, I still find myself in the same daily ritual: Before I can finish explaining what is essentially ‘can we make this thing do a thing,’ I’m greeted with some version of these dreaded words: “That’s gonna be a big lift.”
Decoding the “Big Lift” Defense Mechanism
When someone declares something a “big lift”, they’re engaging in the ancient art of task inflation – a practice as old as the first estimate that it would take six months to center a div.
What they really mean is:
- “I haven’t thought about it yet, but I’m preemptively overwhelmed”
- “You didn’t use the exact technical jargon I would have used, response: 500 error“
- “You clearly don’t understand the butterfly effect this will have on my architecture”
- “I’m hoping if I make it sound scary enough, you’ll drop it”
- “I’ve been hurt by other PMs in the past and I don’t know if I can trust again”
The beautiful irony is that these “big lifts” often turn out to be more like “moderate inconveniences” once you actually dissect them. It’s akin to watching someone prepare for an Arctic expedition when they’re really just walking to the corner store.
The “big lift” declaration is essentially the corporate equivalent of your kid sighing dramatically when asked to take out the trash. It’s that moment when fear, procrastination, and imposter syndrome join forces to create a mountain out of what is, essentially, a moderately sized speed bump.
In the end, the phrase “big lift” has become less of a technical assessment and more of an automated response much like “we’ll see” (which we all know is just a parent’s way of saying “no” without starting an argument).
Breaking Down the Wall of Vagueness
For Product Managers dealing with the “big lift” phenomenon, here are some strategies to navigate task inflation:
Embrace Your Inner Pavlov
- When you hear “big lift,” immediately respond with “And what unit of measurement is that exactly? Is it metric or imperial big lifts?”
- Consider keeping a tiny violin in your desk drawer for these moments
- Bonus points for developing a facial tic that appears only when those words are uttered
Play “20 Questions: Developer Edition”
- Instead of accepting “big lift” as an answer, treat it like a murder mystery
- “What specifically makes this challenging?” often reveals that the original gut estimate may have been a scooch exaggerated.
- Watch as “impossible” transforms into “well, actually…” in real-time
The Great Task Striptease
- Slowly remove layers of complexity like you’re peeling an engineering onion
- “What’s the first thing we’d need to do?” usually reveals that it’s 3 small tasks and updating a config file, not reinventing electricity
- Suddenly that “big lift” looks more like a “slight bend at the knees”
And now, the moment of truth:
The problem is probably you, dear Product Manager. While you’ve been marinating in the “why” and “what” of your brilliant idea, crafting vision boards and user stories, your developers just heard about it 30 seconds ago between bites of their morning bagel.
You’re essentially asking someone to estimate the cost of building a house while they’re still trying to figure out if you mean a dollhouse or the Taj Mahal.
Embrace the friction. It’s like coffee – necessary and productive in the right amounts. Avoid fear. It’s like putting pineapple on pizza – controversial and potentially harmful to team morale.
Next time you hear “big lift,” resist the urge to roll your eyes so hard they get stuck. Instead, channel your inner therapist and help your developer work through their premature estimation anxiety. And if all else fails, try replacing “big lift” in the conversation with “scary monster under the bed.” It helps maintain perspective.
What does effort mean? Really.
Today the development world has somehow managed to compress all possible task complexities into a binary system that would make even the most zealous boolean enthusiasts cringe. It’s as if every task falls into one of two categories:
- “No problem, I can do that in 5 minutes” (narrator’s voice: “it actually took three full days, two mental breakdowns, and a complete reevaluation of career choices”)
- “That’s a big lift” (narrator’s voice: “it wasn’t”)
What our industry desperately needs is a more nuanced vocabulary for discussing effort that’s not t-shirt sizing or arbitrary points, something akin to a Richter scale for development tasks that assume actual time as represented on a clock, maybe something like:
- “Tiny Tap” (Minutes: The kind of task you could theoretically complete while sleepwalking)
- “Minor Hoist” (Hours: Just add coffee and an hour of focused work)
- “Medium Move” (Days: Requires engaging the brain, but won’t necessitate a complete system overhaul)
- “Substantial Shift” (Week: Time to dust off that documentation we’ve been avoiding)
- “Genuine Big Lift” (2-3 weeks: Better call AWS support and order several pizzas)
- “Complete Rebuild” (Ahh Crap: The perfect time to update those LinkedIn profiles and brush up the old resume).
This nuanced approach might just save us from the current situation where every task is either treated as trivial as breathing or as complex as explaining blockchain to your grandmother.
The Reality Check
The truth is, calling everything a “big lift” is like a teenager declaring everything “literally the worst thing ever.” It’s dramatic, it’s unhelpful, and it makes actual big lifts feel left out and underappreciated.
The next time you hear (or are about to say) “big lift,” pause. Replace it with specific concerns, actual time estimates, or even a simple “I need more information to properly assess this.” Your teammates will appreciate the clarity, and you might find that the lift isn’t as big as you imagined.
Even the most impressive structures are built one brick at a time. Sometimes what we need isn’t a bigger crane, but a better blueprint.
ALWAYS REMEMBER… A “Big Lift” is NOT a unit of measure!
I made these fun fashion reminders to help. Check em out.

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