

I broke my tooth rock climbing four years ago. Cracked it clean through.
Twenty years ago, this would have meant a generic crown. Something mass-produced that sort of fit. Dentists would grind it down, adjust your bite, and you'd spend your whole life getting used to something that was never quite right.
Instead, my dentist used CAD to scan my tooth and reconstruct an exact replica. Same contours. Same fit with my bite. I walked out and forgot it wasn't the original.
That's the difference between generic and custom. And it's exactly what's happening in software right now.
Here's how enterprise software typically works.
You decide you need better customer relationship management, so you buy Salesforce. Or you need better knowledge management, so you implement Glean. What follows is predictable. Massive implementation costs. Months of training. Endless change management meetings. Your team has to learn the tool's logic, adapt their workflows, and bend their processes around how the software thinks they should work.
Then comes the pressure. "Make sure you capitalize on Salesforce, or you've wasted all that money." The burden falls entirely on you. You bought the tool. Now you have to make yourself fit it.
That's the generic crown. It sort of works. You adapt to it. But it was never built for you.
What if we flipped the entire model?
Instead of clients learning tools, what if tools learned clients? Instead of zero-day training meaning "the day you start learning our software," what if it meant "zero learning required because it's built around how you already work"?
This is what's now possible.
One of our clients is a sock manufacturer. They needed a scheduling tool for their production facilities. They could have bought any number of existing scheduling packages. Each would have required them to simplify their operations to fit the software's assumptions about how manufacturing works.
But their operations aren't simple. They have specific changeover logic between product runs. Color sequences matter because dyes can spill over between batches. Certain jobs get printed to paper tickets on specific days and become "frozen" after that. Delays propagate in ways the off-the-shelf tools don't understand.
Instead of forcing them to flatten all of this into someone else's data model, we built scheduling that works exactly how they think about their facility. Their changeover rules. Their color logic. Their freeze dates. No translation layer. No "that's just how the software works" compromises.
AI has dramatically reduced the cost of custom software development. What used to require 18 months and seven-figure budgets can now happen in weeks at a fraction of the cost.
We're not building chatbots. We're not wrapping ChatGPT in a pretty interface. We're using AI to build genuinely custom software at scale. Real applications with real functionality, tailored to specific business needs.
The economics finally make sense. For the first time, every business can have software that fits them perfectly. Like my tooth.
AI commoditized the building. That means the value shifted somewhere else: figuring out what to build.
My tooth was straightforward. It was broken and needed reconstruction. But most business problems aren't that clean. Someone has to figure out what "custom" actually means for each client. What do they need? How do they think? What problem are they actually trying to solve?
That's human work. And it's the subject of Part 2.

