Rex Woodbury recently described the moment we’re in as the “Costco era” of software:
“Mass-produced, vibe-coded software that’s gobbling up most of the world’s code. Buy it in bulk, consume it in bulk.”
The numbers bear this out. Nearly half of all code written with GitHub Copilot is machine-generated. Claude is writing its own code. Entire apps can now be spun up in seconds with AI-native tools.
When creation is commoditized, the real question becomes: what’s scarce?
As Rex notes:
“As the cost of software creation approaches zero, how will products stand out? … Design is the differentiator.”
This is the same shift a16z pointed to when backing Figma. As Peter Levine put it:
“That was the decade of code. Now, we are moving into the decade of design: One where design, not just code, is at the center of product development and successful organizations.”
In the last era, capabilities were the differentiator: if your software could do something no one else could, it didn’t matter if it was clunky. Today, features are table stakes. What matters is how those features perform and how they feel. Design, performance, and responsiveness are the differentiators. The interface no longer just reflects the code; the code is in service of the design and the craft of the experience.
And this matters most in industries where workflows are already fragmented. Architecture is one of them.
Every project today is a patchwork: Revit for documentation, Rhino for geometry, IFCs for consultants, PDFs for markups, Miro for notes. More tools doesn’t mean more clarity. Architects live in abundance without coherence. In short, AEC has been in the Costco era all along.
And this is where design is not an afterthought. It’s the only path forward.
Look at what made Figma different. It didn’t just replace Sketch or Illustrator. It collapsed five disconnected tools into a single multiplayer canvas, a system of collaboration. It wasn’t just a design tool; it was the connective layer where designers, engineers, marketers, and stakeholders could all participate. That openness and composability created community, virality, and eventually, inevitability.
The same shift is overdue in architecture.
That’s the wedge for Arcol.
We’re not trying to build yet another modeling tool. We’re asking: what would BIM look like if it were multiplayer, browser-native, and actually a joy to use? What if instead of endless exports and markups, you could sketch, iterate, and collaborate in one live model?
We are betting on three things incumbents can’t replicate:
Tasteful design: In AEC, adoption is about trust. A clunky interface signals risk. A seamless, elegant one signals inevitability. But it’s an uphill build to get to that level of trust and fidelity—one reason design is our core wedge.
Cross-platform friendliness: We’re building the connective tissue, not a walled garden. Arcol plays well with the ecosystem. Where incumbents protect lock-in, we create composability.
Multiplayer as default: Just as Figma made product design collaborative, Arcol makes building design collaborative—across disciplines, firms, and geographies.
This is how you transform a mature, underserved category. As a16z noted of Figma:
“What used to take four or five discrete tools can now be done end-to-end in one place, the single source of truth… But it’s not just a tool; it’s a multiplayer system for collaboration.”
That’s exactly the opportunity in AEC.
But it’s also important to say: this doesn’t happen overnight. You don’t stitch together a real-time, multiplayer BIM system by racing to ship features. To build this from first principles requires time and an almost obsessive commitment to craft. At Arcol, we take pride in building it right rather than fast. Because in an industry as risk-averse as AEC, cutting corners isn’t just sloppy—it kills trust.
That craft doesn’t sit in design alone. It’s also in engineering performance — making sure massive models load quickly, that collaboration feels instantaneous, that iteration cycles are fast and responsive. Differentiation now comes from marrying thoughtful design with deep technical execution. That’s why we’re deliberate, building from first principles, and taking the time to get it right.”
And while AI now appears in every pitch deck, it’s still nascent. The temptation is to bolt it on and call it a strategy. We’re taking a measured approach: using AI where it makes architects’ lives easier, while ensuring they remain firmly in control of their work. The real bet is not “AI for AI’s sake,” but AI as a tool for precision, clarity, and trust.
This is why we think about design in the broader sense. Not just as pixels and workflows, but as systems of trust. Joe Gebbia’s new role helping reimagine the U.S. government underscores this shift.
The executive order by the White House sets a bold deadline: by July 4, 2026, federal agencies must overhaul thousands of websites, service centers, and public-facing spaces. A newly created National Design Studio will set standards, recruit top design talent, and ensure the redesign isn’t just cosmetic—it’s systemic.
Early reports suggest 26,000 federal websites and countless physical service points could be affected. For architects, this could open opportunities in wayfinding systems, spatial branding, digital-physical integration, and even rethinking the visual identity of federal buildings and services.
As Gebbia put it: “Design is not decoration; it’s infrastructure for trust.” That ethos could transform not only how government looks but how it works.
The same is true for AEC. When billions of dollars, years of labor, and the public realm are at stake, design is not a surface layer. It’s the infrastructure of how trust is built, how collaboration happens, and how projects succeed.
That’s why Arcol is defensible. It takes time, discipline, and craft to build the connective layer that becomes inevitable. Incumbents can bundle and undercut. But they can’t out-execute on taste—or outlast a company willing to build the right way.
AEC is 13% of global GDP. It’s fragmented, conservative, and desperate for tools that don’t just function, but fit. In the Costco era, the winners won’t be those with the most features or the flashiest AI. They’ll be the products that feel inevitable, human, and simple.
That’s the line we’re walking at Arcol.
Less bulk. More taste. Built with craft. Designed for trust.