Growing up, science bored me to death (and this is coming from someone who had a research scientist as a dad).

As a kid, I couldn’t have cared less about molecules, natural selection, or nebulous clouds — I was too busy with my head in another type of clouds, daydreaming while doodling away during class.

I was pretty oblivious to the value of science until one fateful day in 6th grade when we were taught something that would change the rest of my life:

The scientific freaking method

I know, I know — this isn’t all that earth-shattering. After all, isn’t it just a series of boring steps we were forced to learn in order to grow some pointless pea plants?

Oh, but it is so much more.

For me, it was an introduction to the world of systems.

System (n.) — A set of principles or procedures according to which something is done; an organized scheme or method.

As most adults can attest, living a productive, successful life is all about systems (whatever “success” means to you).

For those of you who are still unfamiliar, the scientific method follows the following steps:

1. Make an observation
2. Form a hypothesis
3. Conduct an experiment
4. Collect and analyze data
5. Communicate what you learn

Now, for all of the design thinkers out there, this looks an awful lot like another process we’ve used:

1. Empathize
2. Define
3. Ideate
4. Prototype
5. Test

And for all of the lean startup followers, this might look like yet another process:

1. Ideate
2. Build
3. Test
4. Measure
5. Learn

Since the scientific method came first, I’m going to go ahead and assume these other industries swagger-jacked it and made it their own.

This could be confirmation bias since the word “hypothesis” is in the title of this post, but if you ask me, there is one common thread woven throughout each of these processes:

Each process is centered around forming and testing a hypothesis.

Whether you’re creating a prototype or building a product, you are essentially planting a flag and saying, “If we build this thing, then it will solve a problem.”

Now, don’t get me wrong — I never said that forming a hypothesis will allow you to solve the right problem. After all, solving the right problem is why I (and so many other UX designers) have a job.

In any situation, these systems are frameworks for learning — they help teach you how to learn which if you’re starting a company, is one of the most valuable skills you can have.

In order to make this a little more tangible, let’s dig into a few examples:

Apple

If we invest in the design of our products, then it will allow us to set the standard for product design and ultimately set us apart.

Bumble

If we allow women to make the first move (in heterosexual matches), then it will make for a better dating experience for everyone involved.

Google

If we make the development of our products more collaborative with outsiders, then it will ultimately make our products better.

If we deliver a pair of shoes to a child in need each time someone buys a pair, then we will attract customers who care about doing good.

Sure, you could make the argument that it’s easier to reverse engineer a hypothesis out of a company that is already successful, but if you look closely, every company is built upon a set of assumptions.

One of the smartest things you can do is document these assumptions. That way, you will have a clearer starting point for testing and you will know how to measure success in the near future.

Remember — if you have a company but you don’t have a hypothesis, then you don’t have a company.