Gumloop's Max Brodeur-Urbas on Why AI Shortcuts Fail and What Actually Builds a Company

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Overview

Max Brodeur-Urbas is the founder and CEO of Gumloop, an AI automation platform. In this interview he argues against a popular fantasy of the current AI boom: the founder who runs a company with dozens of AI agents, works an hour a week, and earns millions on autopilot. He thinks that picture is mostly marketing. In his view, value comes from applying AI to work you already understand deeply, and from building things, being proven wrong, talking to users, and trying again. He traces that view through his own path: a Big Tech job he disliked, a five-year ban from the United States, months of failed ideas, and a side project in the AutoGPT community that became Gumloop.

16 min read

What Gumloop Does

Brodeur-Urbas describes Gumloop as an automation platform that runs about 4 million workflows every day for large businesses including Instacart, Shopify, DoorDash, and Gusto. At the time of the interview the team was 15 people and, in his words, "scaling pretty quickly."

The platform is aimed at the people who understand a business problem firsthand: the marketer, the salesperson, the operations person. Instead of writing a spec and explaining it to an engineering team, they can automate their own work. That focus on the person who actually knows the problem comes up again later in his argument about how AI should be used.

Leaving Big Tech, and What It Didn't Teach Him

He studied software engineering at McGill University in Montreal. He says he cared a lot about grades and studied constantly, and that his goal through college was simply to "get a good job" in Big Tech, which he assumed was the right path. He went to Microsoft and "realized pretty quickly that I hated it."

He is skeptical of the common plan of joining Big Tech for a while to learn and then starting something. He calls it "kind of cope." In his experience, many people who say this end up with golden handcuffs and never leave. He says he hasn't used anything he learned in Big Tech at his startup. The one benefit he sees is a kind of default respect: a recognizable company on your résumé tells people you are competent in some way. Beyond that, he says, much of what he does now is motivated by what he disliked at Microsoft, and most of it is "the exact opposite" of how Big Tech works.

His main argument concerns timing. People in their early twenties with no responsibilities have years they can't get back. Spending them logging in, fixing a ticket, and logging off wastes them. His reasoning was: if you are going to start a company, start now, and figure out the more reliable, responsible option later. He says that was the right choice.

Deported, Banned, and Out of Fallback Options

After quitting Microsoft, he moved back to Vancouver and planned to spend a year building things in his bedroom. One weekend he tried to visit his former roommates in Seattle. Border officers questioned him about where he was going, where he was staying, and what he did. He says they suspected he would stay longer than he claimed, even though he planned to stay two days. He stresses that he did nothing illegal. He was turned back and banned from the United States for five years.

He says he was "pretty terrified" and remembers driving back to his girlfriend's apartment almost in shock. It took a few days to calm down, and then the ban produced focus. With no fallback plan, he decided to take company-building more seriously: build things people actually want, something that could make money. He says he worked as hard as he could for the next six months.

Hunting for Reasons an Idea Won't Work

During that period he tried many ideas. He lists moderation software for VR video games, general trust-and-safety tooling, bot detection for web traffic, and an anti-scam platform. His routine was to build each idea to an MVP, try to sell it, and gauge market interest. He was testing roughly one new idea a week, and he usually learned quickly that it was a bad one.

His main lesson from this stretch is what he calls a counterintuitive fact: in a startup you should be trying to prove yourself wrong. Being proven wrong quickly is the best outcome, because it saves weeks or months. Early on he did the opposite. He built ideas for months and hoped someone would confirm they were worth building, and he estimates he wasted about three months that way. His advice now is to actively look for someone who can tell you why an idea won't work. If you can't find a strong reason, you have something worth pursuing. If he could start over, he says, he would hunt for the strong reason something won't work instead of hoping for a reason it might.

He adds two principles. The first is to build as much as possible, because building produces the most information. He doesn't think he would have arrived at Gumloop without failing about ten times first. The second is to talk to users as much as possible. He calls this a privilege you have to earn, because at first you have no users and end up begging people to try your product. He thinks users should be at the center of everything you build, including when they tell you the product is bad, you're building the wrong thing, or it doesn't solve their problem. He considers that the most valuable feedback there is.

He also describes how different the right idea felt. When he started on the current version of Gumloop, he stayed at the office until midnight for the first time because he was excited about what he was building. When you find work that makes you not want to close your laptop, he says, every day gets easier and the momentum compounds.

From AutoGPT's Discord to an Automation Platform

Gumloop started in the AutoGPT community. He describes AutoGPT as a very popular open-source agent framework that spread across Twitter because it was the first time AI seemed able to act agentically and solve problems on its own. He tried it and found the first demo impressive, though he admits he "didn't actually push the limits and see how it would break."

He joined the AutoGPT Discord server, which was growing fast, and saw many basic questions: What is GitHub? How do I use the terminal? How do I install something locally? What is a dependency? He realized that a simple UI would solve that problem for people. He also saw it as a chance to learn front-end development and didn't expect it to become anything special. Whenever someone in the Discord asked for help setting up a local environment, he sent them a link to AgentHub, the first version of the product.

After a few days of building, he started to think of it as "GitHub for agents": if agents were useful, he could own the platform where people hosted and interacted with them. That idea fell apart within a few days, when he realized the agents weren't useful. He calls this the "aha moment." People wanted to use his platform but were frustrated because the agents were unreliable. So he gave them what he says they were "secretly asking for": reliability and predictability. Their use cases were simple enough that he built a framework for automating steps one after another, and that grew into the automation platform.

The users also surprised him. Because it came from an open-source project, he assumed the audience would be developers. The people most enthusiastic about it were non-technical: business admins, operations staff, HR people excited about AI solving real problems and automating their work. Once he realized about 80% of the audience was non-technical, he decided to make the product approachable and fun, without frustrating complexity. He describes this as the motivation behind a simplified version of AutoGPT.

First Paying Customer, and YC from a Vancouver Studio

The product was available and completely free for about five months before their Y Combinator batch began. They always planned to charge, and in roughly the first week of the batch they turned on pricing at $20 a month, because they couldn't imagine charging more than ChatGPT. Their first paying customer was a man named Kai. Brodeur-Urbas says the team "freaked out" when the Stripe notification appeared and calls it "the greatest moment ever." Kai is still a user.

Because of the ban, he was stuck in Canada for all of YC. He had the pressure of meeting YC's expectations but none of the distractions. He spent the batch coding as fast as he could in a small studio apartment in Vancouver.

Networks Aren't Made at Cocktail Parties

He took a lasting lesson from that isolation: staying focused and avoiding tech networking events and parties is powerful. In his view, the people building something amazing aren't at those events, and nobody who is onto something is out networking. He says he still mostly skips events, and his co-founder almost never goes, "almost to a fault." Most people have never met the co-founder because he is always working.

His conclusion is that if you stay focused and talk to users, your network forms naturally. He applies the same logic to fundraising. Many founders think they must network to meet investors and persuade them. He argues that if you build something exceptional, investors come to you. You show them you will succeed without them, and then you are the one telling them to wait. He calls this the biggest realization of YC: it's not that complicated, just build something great. As he puts it, "a network is not made at the cocktail party."

The "Slop Machine" Anti-Pattern

He sees an anti-pattern in how people use AI: going so far in one direction that you become someone who says, "I have 50 AI agents running my company and I have a C-suite of AI that tells me what to do every day." He thinks that approach is wrong and compares it to building a slot machine, then corrects himself: a "slop" machine.

He believes the key is knowing what to use AI for and what not to. Keep the human touch in the important parts and automate the repetitive work. He says Gumloop's best users are heavily AI-enabled but haven't replaced their whole job with AI. He admits it's a slippery slope.

Course Bros, Wantrepreneurs, and Selling Hope

He is openly critical of a genre of social media content. On Twitter, he says, people claim they automated everything, work an hour a week, and make $10 million on the weekend with a SaaS app. He considers most of this marketing and says "they're lying to you, for the most part." He calls these people "course bros": they sell a dream, and followers believe they can make $30,000 in a weekend by copying a workflow and commenting to get "the recipe." He says he can "guarantee that's never worked." In his view they promote productivity without offering anything new. His argument is simple: if a magic solution made $30,000 in a weekend, nobody would give it away on Twitter.

He links this to earlier hype cycles such as crypto and NFTs. Every bubble, he says, has a vulnerable part of the community that is easily convinced something will rescue them from their situation, and "you can sell hope really easily." Some people online exploit that with fictional content. He describes the target audience as "wantrepreneurs," admitting the word may be negative: people who think a business can be built with one click because they bought a course that promises a million dollars a year as a side hustle. What's being sold, he says, is the idea of skipping hard work and going straight to the value, which he says "will never happen." The course sellers, meanwhile, make a lot of money: "they found a way to print money."

Automate Only What You Understand

His alternative is a personal rule: he only automates things he really understands. Automating something you don't understand, he says, just produces another slot machine. Using AI for work you don't understand often creates uncertainty. His example: if you use AI to code without knowing how to code, "you're making malware at the end of the day," and it will come back to bite you. Vibe coding "can only go so far," and he says the same applies to workflow automation. If you automate something you could never do yourself, the result will be poor.

He describes his own use of AI as acceleration. He takes things he already understands, does them much faster, and uses the saved time to learn more and grow. He says he never uses AI to skip understanding something or to replace himself in expanding his skills.

A Widening Split Among Engineers

He raises a speculative worry: "the last generation of great engineers" may already have been born. That generation had to understand what was happening and was then accelerated by AI. Now people can skip the understanding and go straight to acceleration. He expects a much smaller group to use AI as a learning tool, as a teacher for the fundamentals.

He calls this another slippery slope. When the website works or the feature does what you wanted, it's easy not to ask why it worked, why it didn't, or what side effects it might have. He predicts a bigger gap between exceptional and average people. Those who stop, try to understand the problem, and have AI teach them what they don't know will become exceptional faster than ever before. The average person, he says, will "fall to the slop."

Hiring Customers Who Already Believe

Nearly all of Gumloop's hires came through its network, and many were customers. He mentions a customer at Instacart, one at Webflow, and one at Shopify who each quit their jobs to join. He finds this an enjoyable way to hire because these people already have conviction. They use the tool daily, love it, and understand the vision. He says a startup's main asset is optimism: you need to be excited to come in every day and prove wrong the people who ask why a big company won't just steamroll you. Customer hires already have that belief, so the transition is fast and the main work is onboarding.

He compares hiring to dating. You can't beg someone to date you, and you can't beg someone to join your company. You have to build something great and show traction so the best people want to join. He notes that his co-founder joined only after seeing a working early version of the product in a demo.

On culture, he says nobody is told to stay late and there are no required hours. Everyone is equally excited about the mission. His main hiring filter is whether he would want to spend all his time with the person, whether he could "hang out with them 24/7." He says this has compounded into a group of well-adjusted, fun, ambitious, excited, and intelligent people, and each hire like that makes the place more exciting for everyone.

Blind Confidence Over a Hundred Reasons Not To

He ends with a point about skepticism. Every startup has "a million reasons" not to exist. It's easy to hear an idea and ask about the moat, or why some big company won't do it. He believes people who obsess over those questions never build anything and end up as "a pawn" in a big player's game. People who take risks and try to prove others wrong end up where others ask how they got there, and his answer is that they tried, it worked, and when it didn't, they tried again.

He applies this to Gumloop. On day one, he says, he could have listed a hundred reasons why Zapier would do it better, or why OpenAI and other big players would crush them, and then nobody would be using Gumloop and they would have built nothing new. He thinks the most important quality in a founder is believing they can do it, because nobody starts a company without thinking they will be the one to pull it off. That takes "blind confidence," and he closes by saying it's exciting how much someone can do when they believe they can.