Before the Product, Build the Trust

Why Ember is building a community before it launches — and why that is the only strategy that makes sense

5/8/20244 min lesa

persons hand with white nail polish
persons hand with white nail polish

Here is a thing most founders believe: if the product is good enough, the audience will follow.

Here is what we found when we looked at our specific market: the product is not the barrier. The conversation is.

Ember is a system designed for the moment someone else needs your life — the moment a trusted contact activates a vault and a grieving family finds clarity instead of confusion. That moment is profound. It is also deeply personal. And you cannot sell your way into it.

Ember turns digital life into clear, usable legacy.

Why the product alone is not enough

Research consistently shows that while the overwhelming majority of adults consider estate planning important, fewer than a third have taken any concrete steps toward it. That gap — between knowing and doing — is not an information problem. It is an emotional one.

People know they should prepare. What stops them is that preparing means thinking about dying.

This means that launching Ember without first addressing that emotional resistance would be like opening a gym for people who don’t yet believe exercise will help them. The market exists. The need is real. But the psychological readiness is not there yet.

So we are building the readiness before we build the audience.

What community-building actually means in this context

For Ember, building a community is not about follower counts or engagement metrics. It is about becoming associated with a subject — digital legacy, family preparedness, the activation moment — before anyone has heard of our product.

We want the first time someone encounters Ember to feel like a reunion, not an introduction. They should already know the problem we solve. They should already trust that we understand it. The product, when it arrives, should feel like the obvious next step in a conversation they were already having.

This requires a specific kind of restraint: we have to be willing to lead with value for months before we ask anything in return.

The four channels we are using

Facebook Groups. Iceland has around 276,000 social media users, representing nearly three quarters of the population. For adults between 40 and 65, Facebook remains the dominant platform for conversations about family, bereavement, and later-life planning. Our approach is not promotional. We begin by listening — several weeks of observing how people actually talk about loss, about digital life, about what they wish they had known when a parent passed away. Only then do we contribute: not to advertise, but to help.

LinkedIn. The second audience we are building toward is the professional network that surrounds the problem: estate lawyers, financial advisors, funeral directors — people who regularly witness the consequences of unorganized digital estates. Our outreach is framed as inquiry, not pitch. We ask what families actually need. We ask what information tends to be missing at the moment of activation. We build relationships that may eventually become referral agreements.

Minningar — our newsletter. The Icelandic word minningar means memories. Each issue contains one thing: a story, a piece of data, or a reflection that surfaces the experience of navigating loss and legacy in a way that feels honest and human. One story. One insight. One data point. The goal is 1,000 Icelandic email subscribers before we launch. An email opt-in from someone who actively chose to receive a monthly letter about death and memory is one of the highest-trust signals a pre-launch company can collect.

The Icelandic press. Morgublaðið, Rás 1, and similar outlets maintain deep credibility with adults over 45. We approach these channels not as a startup seeking coverage, but as people with something to say about an under-discussed cultural issue: what happens to a digital life when no one was prepared for it to end. The pitch is not we built an app. The pitch is there is a problem your readers have and almost none of them are talking about it.

What we are measuring before launch

Three numbers matter to us in the pre-launch period.

1,000 newsletter subscribers — Icelandic email opt-ins who chose to hear from us on this subject. High-intent, high-trust.

3 to 5 signed partner agreements — funeral homes, estate lawyers, or grief counselors who have agreed to a referral relationship. This validates not just our go-to-market strategy but the activation system itself: these are the professionals who meet families at exactly that moment.

500 waitlist sign-ups — individuals who have expressed interest in the product before it is available. Not passive awareness. Active intent.

None of these are vanity metrics. Each one represents a relationship built, not an impression purchased.

The long game

There is a version of this strategy that tries to manufacture urgency — to make people afraid of what happens if they do not act. We are not interested in that version.

Fear is not the right foundation for a system about legacy. The people who build their Ember vaults because they are afraid will build them resentfully, incompletely, and with the minimum effort required to quiet the anxiety. The people who build them because they have genuinely considered what they want to leave behind will build something their family can actually use — something that activates cleanly, with clarity, at the moment it matters most.

We are trying to reach the second group. That means creating the conditions in which people can think clearly about this subject — not in a moment of panic, but in a moment of reflection.

By the time Ember launches, we want our users to already understand why they need it. The product will be the answer to a question they have already been asking.

Ember is Iceland’s digital legacy platform.