Not every programmer needs to be a professional

If you wander into the northern mountains of the Italian Alps, you may find a 41-year-old Dutchman named Martijn Doolaard, working diligently and calmly in his stone cabin. Martijn, previously a graphic designer, now spends his days refurbishing an old alpine structure that once sheltered cows and other animals. With an eye for serene beauty, he captures and shares his daily tasks and surroundings on his YouTube channel.

To me, Martijn's channel is among the best things the internet has to offer. For years, my wife and I follow his Netflix-grade episodes, and it’s probably the “TV series” we are most anxious to watch. Ironically, there’s no anxiety at all in his videos—just a man barely talking, working meticulously, restoring and repairing a house in a beautiful setting.

Although Martijn used to work with computers, he does a completely different kind of work now. Need a septic system? He builds one. Cement work? Done. Chicken coop? Of course. Gardening and greenhouses? Easily managed. Even smaller projects, like crafting simple tools or a bench where he can quietly sip coffee on cold mornings, are within his scope. He's not striving for professional perfection or selling his services; he's fulfilling personal needs and finding joy in creation, searching for beauty in the tiniest details.

In software engineering, we could learn much from Martijn's approach. Today, especially as AI tools become ubiquitous, there's surprising hostility toward casual or amateur coding projects. Many professionals scoff at the idea of "vibe coding" or tinkering with tools without deep technical knowledge. But why should that bother us?

When someone builds a tool primarily for personal use—however imperfect—it's already a success. Who cares if it's not optimal or has vulnerabilities? The point is the joy and learning in the process itself. I always recall how I got into web development: I wanted to track a few chores I used to do for my former employer. What could have been easily the simplest spreadsheet became an excuse to build my first web app, which was later presented in a technical interview, where I landed my first job in the area.

Observing Martijn's serene craftsmanship, I realize how fortunate we are as software engineers. Our toolbox grows bigger every day, enabling us to attempt projects that would previously never get off the paper. I wish similar assistance existed in woodworking, masonry, or gardening. Why not encourage people to experiment freely with software? If they misuse or misunderstand AI, so be it. Imperfections are natural; over time, only truly useful products survive anyway.

I wish more people tried Martijn Doolaard’s philosophy in programming. I want people to have fun building tools for themselves. If they ship broken apps or sell shitty products, that’s fine. I’m the specialist they’ll come to when the toy project isn’t enough anymore—just like Martijn might consult someone who knows better how to properly level a floor. And I doubt anyone in construction is offended when amateurs try DIY.

I thereby advocate for a mindset shift in the current Zeitgeist: let people tinker freely. It’s better to have more people involved, more potential for collaboration, and more demand for expertise. If an amateur can do something decent with AI, imagine the advantage seasoned developers will gain from mastering them.

Let’s all rejoice in the power of software and AI, and be inspired by that calm, creative spirit Martijn Doolard demonstrates every day in the Alps.