I see it coming—a shift, unstoppable, looming just beyond the horizon. The internet's drowning in mediocre software, and Europe's SaaS scene is the worst offender—a swamp of clunky, soulless tools choking our screens and sapping our spirits. Enterprise-grade slop, not created by AI, ancient and overengineered, built to appease procurement teams instead of users. I can't unsee it. I want to torch it all and start over. Every single SaaS—I wish I could replace it. But how? One indie dev against whole industries? Maybe not yet, but the future's whispering otherwise.
How the Internet Is Filled with Mediocre Software
Look around—it's a graveyard of half-baked ideas. Apps stutter, websites drag, interfaces mock us with their clumsiness. In Europe, it's worse: layers of object-object Java hell, duct-taped together by bureaucratic inertia. A flood of meh, lapping at my patience. I wince every time I load a tool that could've been great but settled for "good enough." Why? They churn it out—racing deadlines, leaving jagged edges I'm forced to endure. Features pile up like driftwood, choking what could've been simple and beautiful. Standards? So low no one even demands better. Mid is the air we breathe—a quiet tragedy unfolding in plain sight.
Why Software Currently, Especially SaaS, Is Often Badddd
SaaS was supposed to save us — software from the heavens, delivered on a cloud. Instead, it's a burden I can't shake. It's badddd, and I feel it in my bones every time I log in. They hook us with promises and amazing screenshots - hook you in their payment system and you're left with Material UI filled with features no one asked for, developed by an intern - because all the senior developers are too entitled to code. I grit my teeth as I navigate through lag and labyrinths of features that barely work. Technical debt creeps wider with every update, leaving me stuck waiting, always waiting. And it's all copycat noise— echoes of echoes, mimicking and cloning with nothing new, nothing that feels mine. I use it because I must, but I mourn what it could've been.
Personal Software might not be the future
I'm not sure if personal software, generated on demand by AI, will be the future. I think it will be a part of it. Because, at the end of the day, no matter how smart the LLMs are, it takes someone with a vision to build something great. Yeah, i've seen the demos of todo lists and calorie trackers.. But that's not what vibe coding is about.
How Indie SaaS Developers Have Been Taking Market Share Consistently but Slowly
There's a flicker of hope, though—small, stubborn lights cutting through the gloom. Indie SaaS developers, lone wolves and tiny crews, are clawing their way up. They don't bow to boardrooms or VCs — they build what matters, and I watch them with an ache of pride. Freelancer chaos, creative minds and the ones who want to change the world. Their tools feel like friends, not chores, pulsing with the heart they pour into every line. I cheer them silently, but it's so slow. Too damn slow.
What Currently Prevents Indie SaaS Devs from Taking Over Significant Market Share
They could rule, these indies — I see it clear as day. But chains hold them back and I grind my teeth knowing it. Resources are thin, dreams stretched to the breaking point, always on the precipice of failure. Success comes, users swarm, and their fragile foundations tremble — I hold my breath every time, hoping they'll make it. Giants loom with shiny logos, and I see users hesitate, wary of the unknown. These heroes of mine of the last generation of indie devs are trapped, their potential unseen, the rumble beneath unfelt. But I feel it.
Better Software, Faster, Not Slop
Speed isn't the goal — quality at speed is. The old way forced indie developers to fight the language, the frameworks, the endless distractions. Vibe coding cuts through that. Instead of debugging TypeScript errors for hours, developers focus on architecting real value for users. Instead of getting stuck in the weeds of boilerplate, they shape experiences that feel right.
Vibe coding isn't about rushing; it's about removing friction. No unnecessary complexity, no yak shaving, no endless refactors that don't move the needle. You vibe and it just works, given that you can afford the cursor subscription, lol. It means shipping polished, joyful software in weeks instead of years — without sacrificing depth.
How Vibe Coding Changes All of That, Quickly
It's not just a method coined by @karpathy — it's a storm brewing, a reckoning I've glimpsed while others sleep. It's software with soul, built for joy, not checklists, and it's the wave I've been waiting for, perhaps my whole life, coming fast. It's all about us — me, you — cutting the fat until only delight remains. They build, test, refine in weeks, not years, and I feel the urgency in my chest. Simplicity is strength here — pure purpose, light and fast and right. Coders band together, share, lift each other, and I see the tide swelling with every connection. For indies, it's a game-changer: launches so fast I blink and miss them, tools so good they spread like whispers, foundations so simple they scale without breaking. No-code, AI, clouds — they wield them like weapons, and I marvel as the balance shifts.
The Future: Bad Software's Days Are Numbered
Vibe coding is coming, a surge to wash away the software that's numbed us too long. Indies will ride it, flooding the world with tools that pulse with life. Users will wake up, ditch the bloated relics, and I'll be here, bittersweet—vindicated, but heavy with the wait. The internet deserves more than this gray haze of okay. Vibe coding is the roar in the distance, the future I've always known. Bad software, your days are fading. I just wish they'd fade faster, so who's building it with me?