I became a developer because of the possibility — that you can build something once and help a ton of people at the same time. Make life smoother, more convenient, more efficient. In theory, that should mean more space for the things that truly matter.

But when I look at how I actually live… most of that “extra” space ends up getting filled with more technology. I’ve spent years watching almost every Angels game on TV, football every Sunday, playing video games many nights. And during the ads or downtime, even though I’ve deleted most social media, I’ll still somehow end up scrolling my phone for no reason.

Sometimes I’ll even spend entire evenings on ChatGPT — doing “research” on what running shoes to buy or what gear to get next — instead of just going outside and moving my body. And this is usually after a full workday of already talking to AI nonstop to help me code more efficiently.

From time to time, I'd zoom out and think: I wasn't totally miserable… but was this really all there is to life? I wrote a bit more about that here: “what living a good, happy life means to me”.

Technology was supposed to give us time for what matters. Somehow, it feels like it's taken that from us instead.

I question whether a lot of the technology we're building is actually helping people live better happier lives, or it's more so helping us get really good at distracting ourselves from the feeling that something more important is missing.

And it’s not like the people building this stuff are bad. I’ve worked with and been led by genuinely good people — thoughtful, well-intentioned people. The problem is the incentives and the pressure surrounding what gets built. When success is measured in engagement and growth, even “wellness” tools start optimizing for attention instead of wellbeing.

How do things being built just always end up catering towards attention, retention, and not purely personal wellbeing and growth? Becomes a competition for attention?

The issue isn't technology — it's incentives wrapped around it.

In the startup world—especially in wellness tech—I’ve seen how quickly decisions start to orbit growth, engagement, and what will sound good in an investor update. Not because people are bad, but because that’s how the system is set up.

Hell, when I invest my money in a company, I really just want the stock price to go up.

When products are rewarded for:

• Attention
• Time-on-screen
• “Engagement”

If your survival depends on attention and “time-on-app,” you end up designing for attention and time-on-app. You’re rewarded for what keeps people checking, not necessarily for what helps them live well.

When the scoreboard is built on engagement, it’s naïve to expect the product to care first about your inner life.

I wrote more about this here: Why I think incentives are so important.

At some point, thinking about it wasn’t enough; I wanted to see what it would look like to actually build with different rules.

I want to experiment building technology with different rules

What I actually want are tools that help me slow down, notice how I’m living, and remember what matters before the day disappears into autopilot again.

Not perfection. Not a fully optimized life. Not another system to self-criticize with when I fall short. Just gentle structure and reflection that make it easier to choose the next right thing.

• No guilt
• No streak-shaming
• No addiction loops disguised as “engagement”
• No pressure to perform a better life for the internet

A couple constraints I won’t compromise on

These aren’t about optimizing revenue. They’re about keeping me honest, and making it harder to quietly slide back into building for growth, attention, or appearances.

1. Everything is free — donation-based forever. No subscriptions. No paywalled “real” version. If someone donates, I’m grateful—but it’s never required.
2. I only ship what I truly use — if it doesn’t help me live more intentionally—if it doesn’t make me a little more aligned with the kind of person I want to be—I’m not going to pretend it will do that for anyone else.

• Any money that does come in gets reported transparently — down to where every cent goes.
• I’m not expecting to make much money — and that’s okay.

LifeOS

Transcend is the first experiment in that direction—a kind of Life OS for intentional living.

Not a productivity engine or a self-improvement treadmill, but a simple home base for your inner world: a place to reconnect with what matters, to see your habits and choices in that light, and to be reminded, gently and regularly, of the person you’re actually trying to become.

I’m building it slowly on purpose. I don’t want to trade integrity for speed, or presence for polish. If this ends up helping a small number of people live a little more in line with their deepest values, that feels like real success to me.

Even if you never click another link, if any part of this resonated with you, that already means we’re asking similar questions.