We build the part that’s missing.
Stop me when you’ve heard this joke.
Software built for a thousand companies doesn’t fit yours.
Most of it is habit. The exception, the workaround, the thing you do for one customer because you’ve always done it that way. None of it reaches the document, because nobody writes down the part they do without thinking.
Build exactly what the document says and you get software with nowhere to put the customer who’s been doing it differently since 2004. Technically correct. Mostly useless.
So we go looking for those parts before anything gets built. The questions sound like this:
Every project is wrong somewhere. The only thing that matters is how long it takes to find out, because a correction that would have been a phone call turns into an expensive surprise.
So we keep the first piece small, and put working software in front of the people who will use it as early as there’s anything to see. The price is fixed before we start. You’re not buying hours, and the emails and the calls that sort it out aren’t a line item. What you’re buying is the software you actually need.
The work runs from a small piece of plumbing to something nobody has built before. Either way it’s built for your business and nobody else’s. Your week goes on the work you’re good at and paid for, instead of the work that only exists because the software won’t do it.
Most owners have it in mind and have never asked what it would take, because somebody told them years ago it was a big-company thing. That answer has changed.
Orders arrive in one place and have to exist in another. Right now somebody moves them across and catches the mismatches, until the day they miss one.
The data’s all in there, just not in the shape you need, so somebody rebuilds it by hand every time it’s asked for.
A clipboard, a notebook, a whiteboard somebody photographs at the end of a shift. It works fine until you lose the notebook.