When I started building Jottings, I made a deliberate choice that might seem counterintuitive for a founder: I decided what not to build.

No comment sections. No follower counts. No algorithmic feeds. No likes or retweets. No elaborate customization panels. No plugins or extensions. No dashboard notifications or engagement metrics.

These aren't bugs or limitations we'll "fix later." They're features.

The Weight of Options

I've watched countless tools collapse under their own weight. Basecamp had this exactly right: the best way to make a product worse is to keep adding things to it. Each new feature seems innocent. Users ask for it. Your competitors have it. So you build it. And suddenly your simple tool becomes complicated.

This happens because we confuse choice with value. We think more options make products better. But there's a cognitive cost to every option. Every feature you add:

• Makes the interface harder to navigate
• Creates edge cases to handle
• Adds maintenance burden
• Splits your focus as a builder
• Confuses users about what matters

I watched a friend abandon a note-taking app last month. Not because it was broken—but because it had too many ways to organize things. Folders, tags, types, categories, nested structures, templates. She spent three hours setting up the system and never wrote a single note.

That's the hidden cost of optionality. It's not that the features were bad individually. It's that together, they created a barrier to the actual thing she wanted: writing.

Constraints Force Clarity

Here's what I've learned: constraints aren't handcuffs. They're guardrails that point you in the right direction.

Twitter's original 140-character limit is the clearest example of this. People complained endlessly. "It's too restrictive! How can I express myself?" But that constraint was the product. It forced you to write clearly. It made you edit ruthlessly. It turned a rambling thought into something crystalline.

With Jottings, the lack of comment sections is intentional. Comments turn your writing into a discussion. They require moderation, create toxic dynamics, and shift focus from your ideas to other people's reactions. By removing them, I'm saying: "This is your space. Your writing is the point, not the debate it creates."

No follower counts. Why? Because the number becomes the thing you're chasing instead of the writing itself. You start asking "will this get engagement?" instead of "is this true?" The constraint—don't show numbers—redirects your mind toward substance.

No algorithmic feeds or retweets. These features are designed to maximize time on platform. They make products sticky, which is good for the business but often bad for the user. With Jottings, I'm saying: "We optimize for your time being well-spent, not time being spent."

Each constraint removes a decision point. And fewer decision points means less friction. You just... write.

Simple Tools Get Used

I own probably thirty productivity apps I never use. Each one seemed promising. Each one had impressive feature lists. But somewhere between downloading and using, I got lost in the possibilities and abandoned them.

The tools I actually use are boring. I use Apple Notes because there's nothing to figure out. I use my text editor because it just opens files. I use email because the metaphor is simple and everyone understands it.

This is the paradox of software design: limitation is a feature, not a bug. The apps that become part of your life are the ones that get out of your way.

Jottings is built on this belief. We give you space to write. That's the feature. The simplicity is the point.

When you open Jottings, you know exactly what to do. You write. You post. Your readers see it. No settings to configure. No engagement metrics to obsess over. No algorithm to game. No followers to attract. Just you and your thoughts, available to anyone interested.

The Anti-Social Design Philosophy

This might sound controversial, but Jottings is intentionally anti-social in the traditional social media sense. We're not trying to be Facebook or Twitter. Those platforms optimize for engagement metrics. We optimize for meaningful expression.

No vanity metrics means you can't compare yourself to others. You can't see if your writing is "winning." You can't get addicted to the dopamine hit of a notification. Is this a constraint? Yes. Is it also a feature? Absolutely.

The freedom comes from the limitation. When you remove the mechanisms of comparison and competition, something interesting happens: people relax. They write what they actually think instead of what they think will perform.

Building With Conviction

As a builder, committing to constraints is hard. Every person who asks for a feature feels like a real need. But I've learned that saying "no" is the most important design decision I make.

Every "no" says: "We believe something else matters more."

No comments says: "Your writing is enough. You don't need validation."

No follower counts says: "Quality over reach. Impact over popularity."

No notifications says: "Your time is yours. We won't manipulate you."

No feeds or algorithm says: "Chronological feeds are all you get. Simple, predictable, honest."

These constraints define what Jottings is. They're not compromises we're making. They're promises we're keeping.

The Future is Minimal

We're at a inflection point in how we think about software. People are exhausted by complex, extractive tools. They're leaving Facebook. They're angry at TikTok. They're realizing that maximizing engagement metrics maximizes everything except happiness.

There's a hunger for simpler things. Tools that respect your time. Spaces that don't gamify your attention. Platforms where the business model isn't about hooking you.

Jottings exists for those people. Not as a rebellion, but as an alternative. A place to write without pressure. A home for your thoughts that doesn't try to monetize your behavior.

The constraints are the whole point. They're what make it work.

If you're tired of complex, exploitative platforms, you might be ready for something simpler. Something where the only metric that matters is whether you're actually expressing yourself.

That's what I'm building. One constraint at a time.

What do you think? Do constraints feel liberating or limiting to you? Post your thoughts at your Jottings site and share the link. I'd genuinely love to hear your perspective.