I knew a guy years ago who began every other sentence with the phrase: “As the man said.” I kept asking him who this man was, because for a stranger nobody had ever met he certainly had a lot to say for himself. Blind advice is easy to come by, but when you actually break down these words of wisdom and ask yourself are they true? the answer is often no.

They say love is blind. They also say you should work on something you’re passionate about. They can’t all be right.

Most software startups fail, and it seems to me they fail because they design the wrong product. They design products they’re passionate about, not products anybody else is passionate about. These one man shops work on pet projects out of love, and often turn their feelings into crazy market projections and dreams of wild commercial success. For over a year now I’ve been hanging out with the multitude of startup owners who frequent the Joel on Software message boards, where everybody offers advice and blunt criticism to their fellow passionate software designers. Most of the readers of this forum are working on failed or failing projects out of love.

Should you be passionate about a commercial product you’ve just started working on?

I don’t believe so. Anyone who’s been in love knows it makes us do crazy things. Our thoughts turn irrational. We make assumptions about the person we love that a sane man would call insane. We make allowances for defects and character failings. The same is true of software design. Passionate programmers assume everyone else will be just as passionate about their product. How could they not love it just as you do? It’s so cool it leaves Microsoft in the shade. It’s sure to be the next big thing, because in your own mind it already is the biggest thing.

Over the past year, I’ve come to the conclusion that when designing new software, it’s far better to go for an arranged marriage. Arranged marriages often succeed because the two parties involved are compatible beyond the lingering gaze across a crowded room, because the passion often comes later when the relationship is established and has proven itself. If you fall in love with your wife or husband a year down the road, you know their failings just as well as their strengths. You’re not blinded by passion.

I designed PageFour because I wanted to. Commercial considerations were pushed to one side as I stumbled on in blissful ignorance, convinced that my own love of the product would be reflected in the market as a whole. I made the fatal and all too common mistake of working on something I was passionate about. The response was lukewarm. Feedback was encouraging, but rarely translated into a love to match my own, and only very rarely into sales. No matter how good the product, it’s difficult to compete in a crowded market where many of your competitors are free. The incentive to try something new is simply not there. A more commercially aware mind would have seen this straight away and considered the wisdom of designing yet another word processor, however unique and different some of its features may be.

Over the past couple of months I’ve been researching product number two. Note the use of the word researching. It’s a novel concept for me that has nothing to do with passion and love. I’ve learned my lesson, and it was a lesson worth learning.

The question in my mind now is what to do with PageFour. Should I let it carry on, earning a small amount each month and building up an equally small user base? Or should I release it as freeware, the place most passionate software truly belongs, and build up a much larger user base?