Everything it does, and everything it does not

Each one is a job description with its own remit, not a chatbot with a costume. Hire the ones the business needs.

A real shift: the specialist plans, works, and comes back with what it did and what it wants approved.

A conversation about the business, on the side rail of every screen, that costs no credits. It knows what you have written down and will tell you when it disagrees. It cannot act — that is what makes it free.

Several specialists on one piece of work, each with an explicit lens, ending with the fact checker on the finished draft.

What is open, what is blocked, and who it is waiting on.

An interview that captures how the business writes, what it never says, and what its pages should look like.

Each specialist has a cadence written into its job — the inbox manager hourly, the chief of staff every weekday morning.

Say it or type it and it is kept as you said it — no title, no date, no folder. Every other surface asks what a thing is before it will take it, which is why the thought ends up in a phone note nobody reads again. It comes back to you in the morning brief, and what is made from it points back at your own words rather than replacing them.

Procedures, policies and letters your staff write, kept whole and exported as a real Word file, spreadsheet or PDF. Documents you already have are read too — including scans and photographs, through OCR — so a procedure that only exists as a photo of a laminated sheet is still something they can answer from.

Forward a receipt from your phone with nothing typed above it and it is filed, with the merchant, the amount and the category read off it. Photograph one, or log a journey by its mileage. Nothing is filled in for you that was not on the receipt.

Bring in what a recorder captured, matched to the meeting in your calendar and to the people who were in it. What was agreed becomes something your staff know; what somebody committed to becomes a proposal you accept rather than a task that appeared on its own.

Contacts, what was said to them and when, and which accounts have gone quiet. Built from what actually happened — the calls, the mail, the meetings — rather than from a form somebody has to remember to fill in.

Say what you track and who owes each one. They email the figure — to an extension address, from wherever they are, with no account and no login — and it is written down without anybody being put to work reading it. What you get on Monday is the sentence that matters: seven of ten are in, and here are the three who are not.

The vans and when their MOTs are due, who is on the rota, which sites have had their fire check — the three or four things every business keeps in a spreadsheet nobody owns. Tell any of your staff what you want tracked and they set it up: a name, the fields, and what each one records. They can then add to it, check things against it and compile it. Your staff describe the shape; they never create database tables, which is the difference between a feature and something nobody can un-ship.

None of the twenty-three quite the job? Write the one you need — a fleet manager, a lettings coordinator, whoever chases your subcontractors. You give them a job description and tick what they may use, and they work under exactly the same fence as the rest: anything that leaves the building still waits for you. They can only be given tools that already exist, so writing one composes from the same list every other role draws on.

An address, a member of staff, a list and the numbers it feeds are four parts that happen to work together. A setup names the arrangement, says what problem it solves for whoever reads it next, and stops the whole thing in one place — which is what stops a published address quietly taking mail after somebody thought they had switched it off.

When a caller asks something twice that your staff had to promise to find out, it appears as a question waiting for you. Answer it once and the phone knows it from the next call. Nothing else here turns a customer's question into a better answer next time.

Mail, calls, meetings, documents, contacts and what your staff have done, in one place. The question it answers — “who was that, and what did we say?” — arrives while you are in the middle of something else.

Decisions, policies and context, written only from things that actually happened — never from what a specialist merely planned.

A rejection with a reason becomes a rule, and the rule is scored by what happens next. One that stops working is flagged rather than left to shape every run forever.

Learned from mail the business actually sent, not from a style prompt.

A page people book on, checked against your real calendar so two people cannot take the same hour. Rate limited, with a daily ceiling you set, because a booking page with no ceiling is a diary anybody can fill.

An editor that builds you a first site from what you have already told us — blocks you move, a look you cannot break — plus pages your staff write for you. It arrives with artwork drawn in your own colours rather than a blank page, and you can search for a photograph or upload your own whenever you have one. Choose your address before you go live. Nothing is public until you publish it, and an agent can only ever write a draft. Rename a page and the address it had keeps working, so links people already have do not break.

One open question before your site is written — who you are, what you do and how it should feel — answered in a paragraph rather than a form. What you say is what your site is written from, in your words where they fit, and nothing on it will claim anything you did not say. Type it, or use your own computer's dictation. Where your browser has speech built in there is a button for it too, and the audio goes to your browser maker rather than to us.

A contact block you add to any page. What somebody sends arrives in Messages and as a job in your task list, with the page they sent it from, and is matched to the customer if you already know them. It collects nothing until you publish it.

Put the site we host on the domain your business already owns, with your Operenda address still working behind it.

What is missing: You put your domain on file, we register it and print the exact record to add at your DNS provider, and the certificate is issued automatically — that last step used to be done by hand and no longer is. A check then fetches your domain and confirms it is serving your site, and nothing is marked as working until it genuinely does, so your links and your search listing stay on your Operenda address until then. It is listed here rather than as finished for one reason: it is newly built and no customer has taken a domain all the way through it yet. If you are the first, tell us and we will watch it with you.

Five checks a visitor never meets — a hidden field only a script fills, how long the page was open, the same message arriving twice, the same message arriving from several people, and a message made mostly of web addresses — plus limits on how much one visitor or one business can send in a day. No puzzle to solve and nothing to click.

What is missing: It does not stop a bot aimed at your business specifically. One that loads the page, waits a few seconds, works out which field is the trap and writes something plausible gets through, and nothing here would notice. There is no CAPTCHA — a visitor who fails a puzzle is a lost customer, and your contact form is often the only way somebody reaches you — and nothing reads what was written to judge it, because that would cost you money on every piece of spam you receive. Nothing caught is ever thrown away: it is kept in full, shown to you with a sentence saying what was noticed and why that might be wrong, and simply does not raise a job. What is refused outright is counted where you can see it, so a busy day that turned somebody real away is not invisible.

How many views each page had over the last thirty days, and how many people came on each day. Counted on our side with no cookie and no script, so it works on a phone with a bad signal. Nobody is followed from one day to the next or from one website to another, and nothing about a visitor is kept beyond a count.

Record what you sold, raise the invoice, and record what comes in against it, part payments included. What is outstanding is worked out from those records — per currency, never converted, and never claimed for an invoice you have not sent.

A catalogue on your own pages that a customer can buy from, with the money landing in your own Stripe account rather than ours.

What is missing: Newly built, and nobody has bought anything through it yet — so it is listed here rather than as finished until somebody has. What is built: a block that puts what you sell on any page, a page for each product with its own photograph, a basket, delivery priced per destination, and a checkout that takes a card into your own Stripe account and records the sale as a paid order with an invoice. Stock is held while a customer pays, so two people cannot buy the last one. What it still will not do is work out a tax rate for you. If your rate depends on where the customer is, you can say what you charge in each country and it will use that — but it knows nothing about any country's tax, will never fill a rate in, and refuses to sell to a destination you have not priced rather than charging one we guessed and you owe. Work charged by the hour and retainers are not sold through the shop at all.

Subscriptions, allowances and top-ups.

Separate workspaces, each with its own staff, memory and rules, and one switch in the header to move between them. Which business you are looking at is checked on every request, not taken from the browser.

Your identity provider, and approval rights that differ by person.

What is missing: Sign-in today is an emailed link, and everyone in a workspace can approve.

Take everything with you, and say how long we keep it.

What is missing: Not built.

Your work ahead of the queue when the system is busy.

What is missing: There is no queue to prioritise yet.