Always Searching for a Solution
My father often said:
"For every problem, there is a solution. You only need the courage to keep searching for it."
As a child, I did not yet fully understand the meaning of those words. But over the years, they became a guide in my life. When I look back today on my professional journey, I see that the same thread always ran through it. When faced with a problem, I never simply gave up. To me, a problem was never the end. It was a question. An invitation to take one more step. That was true in the world of coffee.
When I saw how much time was lost because plastic filters slowed the flow of coffee in humid conditions, I began experimenting with paper pods and a machine adapted to them. The same thing happened later in the ceramic industry. When I saw all the errors that arose in calculations, orders, and product presentations, I once again began looking for a better solution. In many ways, Piramedia was the result of that way of thinking. We did not simply want to develop software.
We wanted to make people's daily work easier. That was always our starting point. Every single time. When an architect explained how difficult it was to show a customer what a finished room would look like, we listened carefully. When a dealer told us about all the hours lost searching for prices and technical information, we took notes.
When a manufacturer complained that it took months for a new collection to become known in the market, we asked ourselves how things could be accelerated. We always began by listening. Only then did we search for a solution. Perhaps that was our greatest strength. We did not begin with the computer. We began with the human being. I still remember one day when Marco spread a large sheet of paper across the table.
He drew circles. Arrows. Connections. At first glance, it looked like nothing more than a tangle of lines. But as he explained his reasoning, I began to understand what he meant.
"Dad," he said enthusiastically, "everything is connected."
He pointed to the first circle.
"Here is the manufacturer."
Then the second.
"Here, the importer."
The third.
"The tile dealer."
The fourth.
"The architect."
And finally, the fifth.
"And here is the end customer."
He looked at me.
"Why does everyone work separately? Why not connect them?"
I remained silent for a few moments. Not because I had no answer, but because I understood that he saw something far greater than a simple computer program. He saw a network. He saw how every link in the chain could be connected to all the others. Long before online platforms shaped our daily lives and artificial intelligence was discussed everywhere, Marco was already thinking in terms of digital connections. I was incredibly proud.
Not only because he was my son, but because I could see how his mind worked. He did not think in isolated elements. He thought in possibilities. I then spoke to him about something I had always believed.
"Marco," I told him, "innovation does not always mean creating something that never existed before. True innovation can also mean finding a smarter way to connect things that already exist."
He smiled.
"Then perhaps we're on the right path."
I smiled back.
"Perhaps we are."
They were simple conversations. But today, I realize how exceptional they were. We were not speaking about money. We were not speaking about competition. We were speaking about the future. About how technology could help people. Not replace them. Help them. It is a thought that, even after so many years, seems more relevant than ever.
When I look at the development of artificial intelligence today, I often think back to those conversations. Not because we already knew what the future would bring, but because we were asking the same question that has accompanied me throughout my life:
"How can we make people's lives easier?"
I believe that only this question gives progress its true value. Technology must never become an end in itself. It must remain a means of helping human beings. Technology without humanity loses a great part of its meaning. I have always believed that. And today I still believe it with the same conviction.
Perhaps that is Piramedia's greatest legacy. Not the software. Not the computers. Not the projects. But the conviction that innovation acquires real value only when it improves people's lives. What my father had once taught me, I was able in turn to share with Marco. That was our dream. And despite everything that would still happen... I am profoundly grateful that I had the privilege of living that dream with my son.