I watched a SaaS company destroy their product launch with a poorly designed early access program.
They announced early access three months before GA. Anyone could sign up. Within two weeks, 15,000 people had free accounts. The product team was thrilled—massive validation!
Launch day came. They sent the pricing announcement to all 15,000 early access users. Conversion rate: 2.3%.
The post-mortem was brutal. Sales couldn't sell the product because prospects said "I'll just wait for the next early access program." The market perceived the product as low-value because it had been given away to thousands of users. And worst of all, they'd trained 15,000 people to expect free access.
The company spent six months trying to rebuild positioning as a premium product. It never fully recovered.
I made a similar mistake on my first early access program. We wanted to build buzz, so we made early access open to everyone. We thought scarcity would hurt adoption. We were wrong.
When you give unlimited access to everyone, you don't build hype—you kill it. You signal that the product isn't valuable enough to gate. You train the market to expect free access. And you waste your launch moment on users who were never going to pay anyway.
The early access programs that actually work do the opposite. They create scarcity. They charge for access. They make getting in feel like a privilege, not a default.
That approach feels counterintuitive when you're desperate for users and validation. But it's the only way early access builds momentum instead of destroying it.
What Early Access Actually Achieves
Most companies run early access programs because they want feedback and beta users. That's the wrong goal.
If you want feedback, run a structured beta with 30-50 qualified participants. If you want to test scale, do a phased rollout with feature flags.
Early access serves a different purpose: Creating market demand before general availability.
Done right, early access makes people want the product more than they would if you just launched. It builds anticipation. It creates FOMO. It generates social proof from early adopters who evangelize the product.
Done wrong, early access satisfies demand early and leaves you with nothing for launch day. Everyone who wanted to try the product already has access. There's no reason to pay attention when you go GA.
I've run early access programs both ways. The ones that built momentum had three characteristics:
Characteristic 1: Access was scarce and earned.
You couldn't just sign up and get in. You had to apply and be accepted. We approved maybe 30% of applications.
That scarcity made people want to get in. When someone got accepted, they felt special. They told their network. "I got into [product] early access" became a small status signal.
When we launched to GA, people who didn't get early access were already primed to buy. They'd been watching early access users and wanted in.
Characteristic 2: Early adopters paid something.
Not full price—early access should offer a discount. But not free.
Charging anything eliminates tire-kickers. It validates that the product solves a real problem. And it normalizes the idea that this is a paid product, not a free tool.
I've tested different pricing models for early access: 50% off first year, founding member lifetime discount, pay-what-you-want above a minimum threshold. They all worked better than free.
Characteristic 3: Early access was time-limited with a clear path to GA.
We told people: "Early access runs for 60 days. At the end, we launch to everyone at full price. As an early access member, you keep your discount as long as you stay a customer."
That timeline created urgency. People knew they had a limited window to get the discount. When GA launched, we had momentum because people who missed early access were ready to buy at full price.
Designing Access Criteria That Build the Right Cohort
The hardest part of early access is deciding who gets in.
Make it too easy and you get thousands of unqualified users who dilute your feedback and won't convert. Make it too hard and you don't get enough participants to build social proof.
I now design access criteria around two questions:
Question 1: Does this person match our ICP?
Early access shouldn't be for everyone. It should be for your exact target customer.
If you're building a tool for Series A startup CFOs, your early access cohort should be CFOs at Series A startups. Not finance managers. Not enterprise CFOs. The specific segment you're targeting.
This focus gives you two benefits: First, all feedback comes from your ICP, so it's actually useful. Second, when you go to GA, prospects see that people like them are already using the product successfully.
Question 2: Will this person evangelize the product if they get value?
Some people are natural amplifiers. They write blog posts about tools they love. They recommend products to their network. They speak at conferences.
Other people are silent users. They'll get value from your product but never tell anyone about it.
For early access, you want amplifiers. These are the users who will create social proof and word-of-mouth momentum.
I look for signals in the application: active blog, strong Twitter following, leadership role in a community, speaking history. I prioritize applicants who have platforms.
One early access program I ran recruited 50 participants. I intentionally accepted 30 people who matched our ICP plus 20 people who were slightly outside our ICP but had big platforms. The 20 amplifiers generated 80% of the social proof. They wrote about the product, recommended it to their networks, and created FOMO.
That social proof was worth way more than getting feedback from 20 additional ICP-fit users.
The Pricing Psychology of Early Access
Here's what I learned the hard way: If early access is free, the market assumes the product isn't valuable enough to charge for.
Customers are smart. They know that companies give away products for free when they're not confident in the value. Free early access signals desperation, not generosity.
I now use paid early access with a significant discount. The pricing model matters:
Model 1: Founding Member Pricing
"Early access members get our product at $X/month for life. When we launch to GA, the price will be $Y/month."
This works well for products with recurring revenue. Early adopters get permanent discount in exchange for being first. You validate willingness to pay. And you create urgency—once GA launches, this price is gone forever.
The risk: You're locking in a cohort at permanently discounted pricing. If these users stay for years, you're leaving money on the table.
I use this model when building initial revenue is more important than maximizing ARPU.
Model 2: First-Year Discount
"Early access members get 50% off for the first year. After that, standard pricing applies."
This validates pricing without permanent discounts. You're rewarding early adopters but not committing to discounted pricing forever.
The risk: Some users will churn when the discount expires. Plan for that.
I use this model when I want to test pricing and understand conversion rates without long-term revenue impact.
Model 3: Pay-What-You-Want (Above Minimum)
"Early access pricing is pay-what-you-want, minimum $X/month. Tell us what this is worth to you."
This generates pricing research data. You learn what different customer segments are willing to pay. Some people pay the minimum. Some pay 3x.
The risk: It's operationally complex. You have customers paying different amounts for the same product.
I use this model only for early-stage products where I genuinely don't know what pricing should be.
Building Scarcity Without Artificial Constraints
The word "scarcity" makes some PMMs uncomfortable. It feels manipulative.
But scarcity isn't about tricking people. It's about focusing your limited resources on the right users.
You can't give high-quality support to 10,000 early access users. You can't have meaningful feedback conversations with 10,000 people. You can't learn deeply from a cohort that large.
Scarcity is a constraint that makes early access actually valuable. You're trading broad reach for deep engagement.
Here's how I create real scarcity:
Method 1: Cohort-based access.
"We're accepting 100 people into early access. When we hit 100, we close applications until the next cohort."
This creates urgency (apply now or wait) and focuses your attention on a manageable group. When the cohort fills, you announce it publicly: "Early Access Cohort 1 is full. Cohort 2 opens in 6 weeks."
That announcement builds FOMO. People who missed it are already thinking about Cohort 2.
Method 2: Application-based qualification.
"To apply for early access, tell us: 1) What problem are you trying to solve? 2) What have you tried? 3) Why do you want early access?"
You review applications and accept people who are genuine ICP fits. Reject applicants who don't match your criteria.
This feels harsh, but it's essential. If you let everyone in, you're not running early access—you're just launching early.
I send rejected applicants a note: "Thanks for applying. Based on your use case, we think you'd be better served waiting for GA when we'll have [specific feature] ready. We'll notify you when we launch."
This sets expectations and keeps them warm for the GA launch.
Method 3: Referral-only access.
"Current early access members can invite 3 people. That's the only way to get in."
This is the most restrictive model. It works for products where network effects matter or where you want organic growth.
Superhuman used this model brilliantly. You couldn't get in unless someone invited you. That exclusivity became part of the brand.
The risk: Your growth is entirely dependent on current users inviting others. If they don't invite people, your cohort stays small.
I use this model only when I'm confident early users will get so much value they'll want to invite others.
Managing the Transition from Early Access to GA
The moment that makes or breaks early access: the transition to general availability.
Most companies treat this transition as a non-event. Early access quietly ends. GA quietly begins. Nobody notices.
That's a massive waste. The transition should be the highest-momentum moment of your entire launch.
Here's how I orchestrate it:
Four weeks before GA: Announce the timeline to early access users.
"Early access ends on [date]. On that day, we launch to everyone at full price. Your early access discount continues as long as you remain a customer. If you cancel and come back later, you pay full price."
This locks in current users and creates urgency for anyone still evaluating.
Two weeks before GA: Start building public FOMO.
Post about early access success stories on social media. Share metrics: "Our early access cohort is seeing [specific results]." Release a waitlist for GA.
You're signaling to the market: This is real. People are using it. They're getting value. You'll want this when it launches.
One week before GA: Give early access users a head start on expansion.
"As an early access member, you get first access to our new [tier/feature] before GA. Here's your upgrade link."
This rewards early adopters and generates expansion revenue before you even launch.
GA launch day: Feature early access members in your launch campaign.
Your launch isn't about the product—it's about the customers who already got value from it. Your messaging should be: "150 companies got early access. Here's what they accomplished. Now it's your turn."
Case studies, testimonials, and social proof from early access members are your entire launch story.
I've run launches where 90% of the launch assets were customer stories from early access. It worked because prospects trust other customers more than they trust your marketing.
What I Learned from Early Access Disasters
I've seen three early access programs completely fail. Each one taught me something:
Disaster 1: The company let anyone in.
They got 12,000 early access users. Nobody got value because the product couldn't scale yet. The 12,000 users churned immediately. When they launched to GA, those churned users told everyone the product was broken.
The lesson: Scarcity protects your reputation. Better to have 100 successful early users than 12,000 failed ones.
Disaster 2: The company made early access free forever.
They told early access users: "You get this free for life as a thank you for being early."
When they tried to convert freemium users to paid tiers, nobody upgraded. Why would they? They already had lifetime free access.
The lesson: Never give unlimited free access. Always have a path to paid.
Disaster 3: The company didn't set a GA date.
Early access dragged on for 9 months. No urgency. No momentum. By the time they launched to GA, the market had moved on. All the early access users had already told their networks about the product. There was no one left to tell.
The lesson: Time-bound early access. Create urgency with a firm end date.
What I'd Tell My Younger Self
If I could rebuild my first early access program, I'd change everything:
I'd cap the cohort at 100-200 people maximum. Not thousands.
I'd charge something—even $1/month. Free early access signals that you don't believe in your own product.
I'd make access application-based. I'd accept people who match my ICP and have platforms to amplify the product.
I'd run early access for 60-90 days max. Long enough to gather feedback and build social proof. Short enough to maintain urgency.
I'd announce the GA date upfront so everyone knows this is time-limited.
And most importantly, I'd treat early access as a marketing program, not a beta program. The goal isn't to collect feedback—it's to build demand and social proof that make the GA launch successful.
Early access should make your launch stronger, not give away your launch moment. The only way to do that is with scarcity, pricing, and strategic cohort selection.
It feels risky to turn people away when you're desperate for users. But unlimited access doesn't build hype. It kills it. Scarcity builds demand. Use it.