2025-12-19
When we founded Levver, we weren't just choosing a clever name. We were choosing a mental model—a way of understanding what we actually do for clients and why it works.
"Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world."
— Archimedes of Syracuse, c. 287–212 BC
Twenty-three centuries ago, a mathematician in Syracuse articulated something that builders, farmers, and craftsmen had known intuitively for millennia: with the right tool and the right positioning, a small force can move an immense weight.
The lever is one of the six classical simple machines—alongside the wheel and axle, pulley, inclined plane, wedge, and screw. But it holds a special place among them. It's perhaps the oldest tool humanity ever used beyond our own hands. And it remains, to this day, the clearest illustration of a concept that governs everything from physics to finance: mechanical advantage.
A lever consists of three components:
The Fulcrum — the pivot point around which the lever rotates. Its position determines everything.
The Effort — the force applied to move the lever. This is the energy you put in.
The Load — the object or resistance you're trying to move. This is the outcome you're after.
The relationship between these three elements follows what's called the Law of the Lever, or the principle of equilibrium. It can be expressed simply:
When the rotational forces (moments) on either side of the fulcrum are balanced, the system reaches equilibrium. But when you deliberately design the imbalance—when you extend your effort distance or reposition your fulcrum—you create what physicists call mechanical advantage.
Neither is inherently better. The question is always: what are you trying to achieve?
Mechanical advantage is the ratio of output force to input force. It tells you how much your effort is being multiplied.
Levers are categorized by where the fulcrum sits relative to the effort and load:
First-class levers place the fulcrum between the effort and the load. Think of a seesaw or a crowbar. The mechanical advantage varies depending on the position of the fulcrum.
Second-class levers place the load between the fulcrum and the effort. Think of a wheelbarrow. These always have a mechanical advantage greater than 1—you're always multiplying force.
Third-class levers place the effort between the fulcrum and the load. Think of a fishing rod or a human arm. These sacrifice force for speed and range of motion—mechanical advantage is less than 1.
The physics isn't complicated. What's remarkable is how universally the principle applies.
Here's where it gets interesting.
When we founded Levver, we weren't just choosing a clever name. We were choosing a mental model—a way of understanding what we actually do for clients and why it works.
Every business has levers. Most don't know where they are, how they work, how to observe and measure their effectiveness or even what class of lever they've inadvertently built. They apply effort—resources, time, capital, creativity—and get results. But they can't explain why those results came, or how to replicate them, or what would happen if they adjusted the variables (assuming they even have the variables mapped out).
Consider a go-to-market motion. At its simplest, you're trying to move a load (revenue) by applying effort (resources, process, execution). The fulcrum—the pivot point that determines your mechanical advantage—is the combination of product-market fit and creative strategy.
The length of the lever? That's the size of your accessible market.
Now consider your customer acquisition channels. Each one is its own lever with its own characteristics:
Each of these levers has its own fulcrum, its own ideal effort distance, its own mechanical advantage. What works for outbound won't work for partnerships. The variables are different. The physics are different.
Each needs its own design.
When we engage with a client, we're not just "doing RevOps" or "implementing HubSpot" or "running campaigns." We're designing levers.
We start by understanding the components:
Then we do the work of adjustment. We reposition fulcrums. We extend effort distances. We identify which class of lever you're actually building—and whether that's the right one for your objectives.
The output is measurable. The ROI is observable. Because mechanical advantage isn't a metaphor, it's a formula. When you apply the same effort and get a larger result, you've created leverage. When you get the same result with less effort, you've created leverage. Either way, you've changed the physics of your revenue system.
Our work is the work of lever design.
Most consulting frameworks are descriptive. They help you understand what happened. Fewer are predictive. Even fewer are generative—they actually help you create something new.
The lever model is generative. It gives you a vocabulary for asking the right questions:
And they translate into observable outcomes. Because you can measure mechanical advantage. You can track the relationship between effort applied and load moved. You can see, in real data, whether your lever is working.
There's a reason Archimedes is remembered. He didn't just observe that levers existed. He articulated the principle—the underlying law that governs how they work in every context.
The best work happens when both parties understand the physics. When you know why something works, you can improve it. When you can see the mechanical advantage in your revenue system, you can optimize for it.
That's the partnership we're after. That's the transformation we're building toward.
That's what we aspire to do at Levver. Not just to execute tactics, but to understand the principles behind them. Not just to build one lever, but to teach clients how levers work—so they can continue designing and refining long after our engagement ends.
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