
Imagine going for a walk through a park in early summer. People are gently strolling around. Couples and families are focussed on each other, joggers jog, dog walkers gingerly pick up droppings and some people stare at their phones doing their own thing.
Most people follow the paths laid out in the park, particularly if they are phone-fixated and need all the help they can get to stay on course. But, do you follow the path exactly? Or are you ever tempted to branch off it to get to somewhere interesting?
If you are tempted to meander off, then possibly you’re just a contrarian who likes going their own way and have little concern for convention. Or, it could it be an indicator that the path is not as well designed as it should be, and you’re not such a rebel after all. Sorry to break that to you.
The beauty of observed human activity
There are several interesting studies of how people find their own way and the patterns that form. I particularly like Klaus Humper’s Lauf-Spuren (Running Tracks). It shows photos of where people have run through fields in the short-lived snow amongst other places.
The beauty here lies in the way that we can momentarily see fragile traces of human passage through fields of snow. These ephemeral trails are susceptible to being erased permanently by a thaw or further snowfall, possibly only to be etched in once again as the next winter and another set of runners’ feet arrive.
Worn out grass can provide a more permanent marker of people’s need to get from one location to another. Grass being a more resilient surface takes more footfall and more time than snow for tracks to become a feature.

Here, the local art and design institute has been closed for a few months now, but the tracks are still visible despite nature’s innate desire to slowly restore its own order and push out human interference.

People naturally want to get around a familiar environment in the most efficient way possible.
Moving from de facto to concrete
The worn out grass shows desire lines and the process of subsequently paving over the worn-out grass has widely become known as paving the cowpaths, a business metaphor for making something concrete that has already become de facto.
So how does all this relate to platforms? These desire lines show us what people need and that those needs aren’t being met. The pathways enabling those needs can be made more concrete if the investment appears it will pay off.
My experience is in tech solution platforms and I’ve started imagining tech platforms as multi-dimensional networks of paved cowpaths, each of which represent hard won experience. It could be said that platforms see what is needed most often and make it available to anyone who consciously or unconsciously has those needs.
platform: a raised level surface on which people or things can stand
Oxford Languages
Taking the literal interpretation of a platform above and transposing the idea into the tech world, we get something on which we can add, or build our own virtual “things”. These things could be dating profiles, room lets or business solutions, to name a few.
Data collaboration platforms such as SharePoint, Airtable or LiveDataset (which I personally worked on) all solve problems that people are encountering on a regular basis. They enable collaboration on tabular data using familiar spreadsheet-like conventions. These platforms also come with data visualisations. They have permission management, user authentication and lots of generally useful stuff.
I’m vastly over-simplifying, but my point is that platforms get you to a solution quicker. What they don’t do is get you all the way to a decent solution out of the box. Some legwork and knowledge is needed to turn that into a usable solution even if the aim is just to implement something simple, such as a one-off collaborative party planner.
Think of it as using public transport in an urban area vs a private car. While transit networks are expensive to build, they are often cheaper to use, readily available to the masses and sometimes faster. Having said that, you generally have to walk a bit at the end of your journey to get to where you want to be.
Platforms represent a hard-won path
Most platforms didn’t get where they are by someone having a brilliant idea and then just implementing it. Someone had to walk several paths, make some of them concrete and see what wasn’t quite working by watching where people actually wanted to go. Then they had to create newer, better paths.
Platforms are hard and expensive to get right, but the privilege of being a gateway to a multitude of solutions can often compensate for this. The rewards come by being an indispensable base that stuff gets built on especially when it’s simply too much hassle and expense to go elsewhere.
I love reusability. I love being able to do the work once and to see it used repeatedly. Perhaps I’m a little lazy, but I don’t want to keep solving the same problem over and over again. Platforms do this by providing the 80% underlying nuts and bolts to a solution. Sometimes that is good enough and other times someone will be willing to pay a lot more to have it their way.
Meanwhile, back in the park
Back to our urban park, which could be called a “physical leisure-enablement platform” to honour my increasingly stretched metaphor. A park generally gets built once and then evolves slowly to reflect the needs of the people in the changing city that surrounds it.
It will never perfectly meet the needs of all its users, but it is good enough to enhance their quality of life a little, to host events and support businesses such as cafes and kiosks. The park can always be improved further as gaps appear between what it offers and what people demonstrate they want. People may speak up directly to the relevant local authorities or demonstrate their needs indirectly through actions such as walking on the grass.
This certainly tallies with my own experience that no matter how many killer features you think you are adding, it will never quite become the one platform to beat them all. There are just too many possible variables and solutions for all of those solution-specific features to converge into something platform-worthy.
If we can accept the less-than-perfect, we can probably get to where we need to be faster and cheaper with a platform than starting out with nothing. We can still go elsewhere for a more specific experience, but the cost and uncertainty of building from the bottom up is nearly always greater than you might think, not to mention technical debt, but that’s another story!