When we think about improving software, our first instinct is usually to add something new. A feature, an integration or another configuration option often feels like progress.
But after building different products, I've come to believe that the best software improves by removing things instead of adding them.
Every unnecessary click interrupts a workflow. Every extra screen, mandatory account or confirmation dialog adds a little more friction to the user's experience. None of these decisions seems important on its own, but together they make a tool feel heavier than it should.
The applications I enjoy using the most are the ones that stay out of the way. They let me focus on my work instead of forcing me to think about the software itself. That kind of simplicity is rarely accidental—it comes from understanding the real problem and having the discipline to avoid unnecessary complexity.
As developers, it's easy to measure progress by the number of features we ship. But maybe a better measure is how much complexity we've managed to remove for the people who use our products.
In the end, the most useful software isn't always the one that does the most. It's the one that solves a problem so naturally that you almost forget it's there.
What's a piece of software you admire because of its simplicity rather than its number of features?
