We have all been in that weekly product review.
You stand in front of the VP of Product (or open a Zoom window). You pull up Figma. You click “Present”.
“So,” you say, navigating through the beautifully mocked-up screens. “The user clicks here, and this drawer slides out. It’s going to feel really snappy.”
The VP nods. “Looks clean. But what happens if the data fails to load? And does that drawer push the content down or overlay it?”
You hesitate. “Uh, the engineering team is still investigating the constraints. But the intent is to have it overlay.”
Two weeks later, the engineers ship it. It doesn’t overlay. It pushes the content down. It’s janky. And it’s definitely not snappy.
The VP is annoyed. “This isn’t what we approved.”
You sigh. “Technical limitations.”
The Pixel Trap
We are stuck in a cycle of “Over-Designing” and “Under-Delivering.”
We spend hours in Figma perfecting the drop shadow on a button that might not even be feasible to implement in the current tech stack. We write 20-page PRDs (Product Requirement Documents) trying to describe “snappy” in text.
Figma is a lie. It represents the ideal state of the product, devoid of network latency, browser quirks, or legacy code debt.
In 2020, we accepted this because building the “real thing” took too long. We couldn’t ask a dev to spend 3 days building a prototype just to test an idea.
But it’s not 2020 anymore.
The Rise of the Vibe Coder
Today, a Product Manager with Cursor or Replit can build a functional React app in an afternoon. You don’t need to know how to configure Webpack. You just need to know how to explain what you want.
This is the “Vibe Coding” movement. It’s not about replacing engineers. It’s about replacing specs.
Why write a paragraph describing an animation when you can prompt Claude to write the CSS and show it running in a browser?
The best spec is executable code. It leaves no room for interpretation. It forces you to confront the “happy path” and the “error state” immediately.
The “Localhost” Ceiling
But there is a catch. You built this amazing prototype. It runs on your laptop. It connects to a mock database.
Now, how do you show the VP?
You can’t deploy it to production—InfoSec would have a heart attack. You can’t ask DevOps to spin up a Kubernetes cluster for your “toy app.”
So you are back to screensharing.
“Imagine this running on your phone,” you say, while showing it on your desktop.
We solved the Creation problem (AI Code), but we hit the Distribution wall.
Don’t Send a PRD. Send a Link.
This is why we are seeing Product Teams adopt PrevHQ.
PrevHQ is the missing link between “I vibe-coded this on the weekend” and “The team can play with it.”
Here is the new workflow:
- You have an idea for a new onboarding flow.
- You spend Saturday morning with Cursor building it. It’s messy code, but it works.
- You push it to a branch.
- PrevHQ instantly gives you a URL:
https://onboarding-proto.prevhq.app. - You drop that link in the Slack channel.
No Figma link. No Loom video. A real, living app.
The VP clicks it on their phone while waiting for coffee. They try to break it. They see the error states. They feel the “snappiness” (or lack thereof).
Feedback shifts from “I don’t like this shade of blue” to “The flow feels broken on step 3.”
The End of Interpretation
When you show a prototype, you stop arguing about intent and start arguing about reality.
You aren’t asking for permission to build. You are showing what you already built.
Stop hiding behind pixels. Stop writing novels in Jira.
Stop showing Figma. Start showing Code.