You can build a beautiful piece of software, price it fairly, and still watch it stall.
Not because your features are wrong. Not because your messaging missed. But because you misunderstood the market you’re operating in.
That’s the part no one tells you: your product’s success isn’t just about what it does. It’s about who it’s for—and whether those people need each other to extract value.
There’s a name for this.
Two names, actually: one-sided and two-sided markets. If you’ve never heard those terms outside of investor decks or MBA classes, don’t worry.
We’re not here to define.
We’re here to show you what they look like in the wild—and why getting them wrong can break your product, your pitch, and your sales strategy before you even get started.
Most of the software world runs on one-sided logic: build something useful for one group, sell it to that group, and keep making it better.
Notion did this flawlessly.
They focused on knowledge workers, gave them a clean, flexible space to think and write, and then gradually added team functionality without over-complicating the solo experience.
Basecamp doubled down on this even harder.
Their product is famously opinionated—built specifically for internal teams who value clarity over complexity.
No integrations, no fluff, no multi-sided anything. Their audience is singular, and so is their strategy.
And then there’s Big Pixel. We’re in this category too. As a custom development partner, we build tools for one group at a time: our clients.
There’s no secondary audience we’re brokering value between. Our job is to understand your operations, design accordingly, and deliver something that makes your life easier. One side. One mission.
In a one-sided market, everything flows cleanly:
It’s not simple. But it is clear.
Now imagine you’re building something where success depends on two groups showing up. That’s a two-sided market. And the moment you enter it—even accidentally—you’re playing a completely different game.
Uber doesn’t work without both riders and drivers. Neither does Airbnb. Or Etsy. Or LinkedIn.
Here’s the thing most people miss: those platforms didn’t just build tools. They built trust systems. Airbnb spent years subsidizing professional photography for hosts, rolling out host guarantees, and creating messaging tools—all before they had critical mass. Why? Because they understood that if the hosts didn’t show up (and feel safe), the guests wouldn’t either.
Etsy’s early growth? Same thing. They focused first on seller tools: store pages, payment systems, shipping labels. Buyer acquisition came second. You can’t attract shoppers if there’s nothing to buy.
And LinkedIn? They’ve spent decades walking the line between individual professionals and enterprise recruiters. Every feature—InMail, endorsements, job postings—is tuned to balance the needs of both sides.
In a two-sided market, trust isn’t built once; it’s brokered continuously.
And that changes how you:
If you build it like it’s one-sided, you’ll lose one side. And that means the other won’t stick around either.
This is where we see it break most often: a founder builds an amazing internal tool. Maybe it's a dispatch dashboard. Or a reporting engine. It works. So they think: "What if we opened it up to partners or clients? Let them self-serve. Maybe even monetize it."
And now, without realizing it, they’ve stepped into two-sided territory.
We’ve had clients come to us asking for what sounds like a portal. What they actually need is a re-architecture of their platform logic. Because the moment you’re serving two different user types, you’re no longer optimizing a tool—you’re balancing a relationship. That’s not UI work. It’s market design.
And if you try to solve it by duct-taping more features onto a one-sided foundation, it doesn’t just feel clunky. It feels broken. Conflicting roles, misaligned incentives, unclear permissions—it’s chaos disguised as complexity.
Figma didn’t start as a two-sided platform. It started as a slick, browser-based design tool for teams. But as their user base grew, so did their opportunity. They leaned into community. They launched multiplayer editing, public templates, plugin marketplaces.
Suddenly, Figma wasn’t just for designers. It was for people building tools for designers. And the moment that happened, Figma crossed the line—from one-sided software to a two-sided ecosystem.
They didn’t just add features. They shifted their market model. And because they did it intentionally, they unlocked entirely new value streams without alienating their core base.
That’s the difference.
This isn’t about semantics. It’s about sales, structure, and strategy. If you’re operating in a one-sided market, your job is to understand your user deeply and serve them well. If you’re building in a two-sided space, your job is to architect trust at scale.
That changes how you:
And if you’re not sure which side you’re on? That’s your first clue. Because clarity about your market model leads to better builds, sharper messaging, and cleaner roadmaps.
At Big Pixel, we ask that question early: Who are your users—and do they need each other to get value?
We believe that business is built on transparency and trust. We believe that good software is built the same way.
Knowing what kind of market you’re in? That’s where that trust starts.
You can build a beautiful piece of software, price it fairly, and still watch it stall.
Not because your features are wrong. Not because your messaging missed. But because you misunderstood the market you’re operating in.
That’s the part no one tells you: your product’s success isn’t just about what it does. It’s about who it’s for—and whether those people need each other to extract value.
There’s a name for this.
Two names, actually: one-sided and two-sided markets. If you’ve never heard those terms outside of investor decks or MBA classes, don’t worry.
We’re not here to define.
We’re here to show you what they look like in the wild—and why getting them wrong can break your product, your pitch, and your sales strategy before you even get started.
Most of the software world runs on one-sided logic: build something useful for one group, sell it to that group, and keep making it better.
Notion did this flawlessly.
They focused on knowledge workers, gave them a clean, flexible space to think and write, and then gradually added team functionality without over-complicating the solo experience.
Basecamp doubled down on this even harder.
Their product is famously opinionated—built specifically for internal teams who value clarity over complexity.
No integrations, no fluff, no multi-sided anything. Their audience is singular, and so is their strategy.
And then there’s Big Pixel. We’re in this category too. As a custom development partner, we build tools for one group at a time: our clients.
There’s no secondary audience we’re brokering value between. Our job is to understand your operations, design accordingly, and deliver something that makes your life easier. One side. One mission.
In a one-sided market, everything flows cleanly:
It’s not simple. But it is clear.
Now imagine you’re building something where success depends on two groups showing up. That’s a two-sided market. And the moment you enter it—even accidentally—you’re playing a completely different game.
Uber doesn’t work without both riders and drivers. Neither does Airbnb. Or Etsy. Or LinkedIn.
Here’s the thing most people miss: those platforms didn’t just build tools. They built trust systems. Airbnb spent years subsidizing professional photography for hosts, rolling out host guarantees, and creating messaging tools—all before they had critical mass. Why? Because they understood that if the hosts didn’t show up (and feel safe), the guests wouldn’t either.
Etsy’s early growth? Same thing. They focused first on seller tools: store pages, payment systems, shipping labels. Buyer acquisition came second. You can’t attract shoppers if there’s nothing to buy.
And LinkedIn? They’ve spent decades walking the line between individual professionals and enterprise recruiters. Every feature—InMail, endorsements, job postings—is tuned to balance the needs of both sides.
In a two-sided market, trust isn’t built once; it’s brokered continuously.
And that changes how you:
If you build it like it’s one-sided, you’ll lose one side. And that means the other won’t stick around either.
This is where we see it break most often: a founder builds an amazing internal tool. Maybe it's a dispatch dashboard. Or a reporting engine. It works. So they think: "What if we opened it up to partners or clients? Let them self-serve. Maybe even monetize it."
And now, without realizing it, they’ve stepped into two-sided territory.
We’ve had clients come to us asking for what sounds like a portal. What they actually need is a re-architecture of their platform logic. Because the moment you’re serving two different user types, you’re no longer optimizing a tool—you’re balancing a relationship. That’s not UI work. It’s market design.
And if you try to solve it by duct-taping more features onto a one-sided foundation, it doesn’t just feel clunky. It feels broken. Conflicting roles, misaligned incentives, unclear permissions—it’s chaos disguised as complexity.
Figma didn’t start as a two-sided platform. It started as a slick, browser-based design tool for teams. But as their user base grew, so did their opportunity. They leaned into community. They launched multiplayer editing, public templates, plugin marketplaces.
Suddenly, Figma wasn’t just for designers. It was for people building tools for designers. And the moment that happened, Figma crossed the line—from one-sided software to a two-sided ecosystem.
They didn’t just add features. They shifted their market model. And because they did it intentionally, they unlocked entirely new value streams without alienating their core base.
That’s the difference.
This isn’t about semantics. It’s about sales, structure, and strategy. If you’re operating in a one-sided market, your job is to understand your user deeply and serve them well. If you’re building in a two-sided space, your job is to architect trust at scale.
That changes how you:
And if you’re not sure which side you’re on? That’s your first clue. Because clarity about your market model leads to better builds, sharper messaging, and cleaner roadmaps.
At Big Pixel, we ask that question early: Who are your users—and do they need each other to get value?
We believe that business is built on transparency and trust. We believe that good software is built the same way.
Knowing what kind of market you’re in? That’s where that trust starts.