Software for One
Last week I made a Chrome extension. It does one thing: when I’m writing a LinkedIn post, it lets me save the draft, and come back to it later. LinkedIn, for reasons I’ve never understood, doesn’t really do this well.
It’s about three hundred lines of JavaScript. It stores the drafts in my own browser and asks for no special permissions. I put it on GitHub, with a license that says, in full: do what you want, no responsibility at all. I made it in an evening, mostly by describing what I wanted to an AI and reading what it gave me.
I’m not telling you this because the extension is impressive. It isn’t. I’m telling you because I think this kind of software - small, personal, made for an audience of one - is quietly becoming one of the most important things about this moment.
Software used to be a mass product
For most of the history of computing, software was expensive to make. So it had to be made for many people at once. A program needed thousands or millions of users to justify the cost of building it.
That meant every piece of software was a compromise. It did what most people needed, in the way most people could tolerate. If your need was specific, unusual, or just yours, you adapted to the software. The software never adapted to you.
Now it can be a home-cooked meal
There’s a lovely essay from a few years ago - Robin Sloan’s - about making an app for his family, comparing it to a home-cooked meal. Not a product. Not a business. Just something made with care, for the people at your own table.
When I read it, I loved the idea but thought it was a luxury for people who could already program. That’s changing fast. Today, almost anyone who can describe what they want clearly can make a small tool for themselves. A shortcut for a task you do every day. A page that tracks something only you care about. A little fix for a product that annoys you.
What makes small software good
Making software for one person turns out to free you from most of what makes software complicated. No accounts. No scaling. No growth metrics. No onboarding flow. No support. No roadmap. Just: does this make my day a little better?
Some of the things I’ve noticed about these small tools:
They’re done. A tool for one person can be finished. That’s a rare and satisfying feeling in software.
They respect you. Because you made them, they do exactly what you need, and nothing that serves someone else’s interests.
They teach you. Every small tool shows you something about how things work - the browser, the page, the data - which makes you better at understanding the larger systems you depend on.
They’re honest about responsibility. Hence my license. It’s a tool for me. If it’s useful to you, wonderful. But nobody is promising anybody anything.
A gentle caution
The same ease that makes personal software wonderful makes it easy to forget that some software is not personal. The moment you make something for other people - with their data, their money, their trust - everything I’ve written about responsibility, simplicity and care comes back in full. A home-cooked meal is lovely. A restaurant has to pass inspection.
An invitation
If there’s something in your daily life that annoys you, that no product does quite right, consider making the fix yourself. Not a startup. Not a side hustle. Just a small thing, made with care, for yourself or the people you love.
It’s one of the quiet joys of this era, and I think more people should have it.
Not all software needs users. Some of it just needs you.