the philosophy

in 1985, richard stallman published the gnu manifesto. his argument was simple: software freedom is a precondition for human freedom. if you can't read, modify, and share the code that runs your life, you don't control your life.

forty years later, he was more right than even he predicted. five companies control the infrastructure of modern business. they set the prices. they change the terms. they own your data. and you have zero legal recourse when they decide your plan is “legacy” and your price just doubled.

but the free software movement stopped at code. stallman gave us the right to read and modify source code. he didn't solve the harder problem: who pays to keep it running?

destroysaas extends the free software movement to the business layer — the hosting, the maintenance, the governance, the legal standing. free code without funded maintenance is a tire without a car. we're building the car.

before credit unions, banks extracted freely from depositors. your money sat in their vaults, earned them interest, and they charged you for the privilege. there was no alternative. that was just how banking worked.

then a simple idea changed everything: what if the depositors owned the bank?

credit unions proved that member-owned institutions could deliver the same services — checking, savings, loans, mortgages — with radically different economics. lower fees. better rates. profits returned to members. no shareholders extracting value from every transaction.

destroysaas does the same thing for software. your monthly payment doesn't go to shareholders — it goes to a treasury you control, paying developers who are accountable to you. same tools. same functionality. radically different ownership.

you already bank at a credit union because it makes obvious sense. the same logic applies to every piece of software your business runs.

saas costs compound. a typical small business pays $1,100/month across five or six tools — CRM, project management, bookkeeping, scheduling, email marketing, inventory. that's $13,200 a year. over ten years, $132,000. with zero equity. zero ownership. zero voting rights.

if any of those vendors raises prices, gets acquired, or shuts down, you start over. migration costs. retraining. lost data. the switching cost is the trap — and every vendor knows it.

with destroysaas, that same money buys you co-ownership of the tools you use. voting rights on the roadmap. legal standing if things go wrong. fork freedom if you want to leave. your payments build equity, not someone else's valuation.

renting makes landlords rich. owning builds your wealth. this is true for real estate, true for banking, and true for software.

ai collapsed the cost of writing code. a phd student can vibe-code a medication monitor overnight. a solo developer can ship an MVP in a weekend. the initial build is approaching free.

but they can't maintain it when the api landscape shifts under their feet every 90 days. they can't patch the security vulnerability that drops on a friday night. they can't keep it running when the cloud provider changes their pricing tier.

80% of total cost of ownership is maintenance — security patches, integration updates, hosting, support, evolution. that's what the collective pays for. that's the real cost of software. and that's what saas vendors use to extract from you indefinitely.

in the destroysaas model, certified product cooperatives compete by shipping working MVPs — product thinking, design, and code. the initial build is their audition. the collective picks the best one and contracts that cell for the hard part: keeping it alive, secure, and evolving for years.

the internet was built on the backs of open-source contributors who gave away millions of hours of labor to democratize power. 98% of the web servers in the world still run on open-source software.

but two traps have emerged. mega-corporations are internalizing ai-driven development into walled gardens — proprietary systems that lock you in tighter than any saas product ever did. meanwhile, the “app factory” evangelists promise one-click software that they will own, handing you a compiled binary while keeping the source code.

we need the middle path. not one massive service with a million users. not app factories that steal your ip. community-scale software — tools designed for dozens or hundreds of users, built for specific needs, sustained through legal cooperatives that pool resources and share costs.

by pooling resources, ordinary businesses can finally afford the true cost of software maintenance — and retain absolute ownership of the source code.

five companies control the software infrastructure of american business. they set the prices. they write the terms. they own the data. thirty million small businesses run on tools controlled by boardrooms they will never enter and shareholders they will never meet.

this is a monoculture. biology has a word for what happens to monocultures: collapse. when every farm plants the same crop, one disease wipes out the food supply. when every business runs on the same five platforms, one pricing change, one acquisition, one policy decision ripples through the entire economy.

and monocultures don't just fail on their own — they concentrate power in the hands of the few. when the tools you depend on are controlled by someone else, your autonomy is an illusion. you make decisions within boundaries someone else drew. your data feeds algorithms you can't inspect. your business model is one terms-of-service update away from irrelevance.

the internet was supposed to decentralize power. instead, it centralized it faster than any technology in history. the answer isn't to build a better monopoly. it's to make monopoly structurally impossible.

there are 33 million small businesses in america. each one makes independent decisions about what to sell, who to hire, how to serve their community. that's not a market statistic — that's the largest decentralized economy on earth.

but if every one of those businesses runs on the same five vendors' software, the decisions aren't really independent anymore. the platforms shape what's possible. the algorithms decide who gets seen. the pricing tiers determine who survives. the independence is aesthetic. the control is structural.

history is unambiguous about what happens when economic power concentrates into fewer and fewer hands while ordinary people lose their autonomy, their voice, and their ability to organize independently. every democratic society that has failed, failed this way.

destroysaas isn't a software company. it's an economic infrastructure project. every cell that forms is a pocket of genuine independence — businesses that own their tools, control their data, and govern their own roadmap. no single point of failure. no single point of control.

when small businesses own their own infrastructure, they can't be captured. that's not a feature. that's the point.