Last year was extreme for me. The first half was a brutal conclusion to a series of poor business decisions I had made in the previous years. You could sum it up like this:
The longer I stayed in the AM industry, the more disgusted and disappointed I became with it.
The more disgusted and disappointed I became, the more I tried to leave.
The more I tried to leave and do other things, the more money I lost.
A year ago — literally in April 2024 — I was completely out of the AM world. I know that might sound surprising now, but it’s true. I had cut myself off entirely. (I was developing a business in the interior finishing and lighting industry.)
GREENFILL3D rethinks interior finishings – under the COLORISED brand, the company is revolutionizing contract work within the industry thanks to 3D printing
GREENFILL3D and COLORISED introduce 3D printed ECO Lamps – created from biodegradable and compostable materials, including polylactide blended with wheat bran and fully home-compostable thermoplastic starch
GREENFILL3D develops eco-friendly COLORISED lighting accessories – In collaboration with Copper3D, Grupa Azoty, Spectrum Filaments, and ROSA 3D.
Yeah, that was all me…
The result? I went flat-out broke. In May last year, I quietly came back to AM and to writing. At first, just to cope with the constant failures in other business areas, but eventually, it actually started bringing in some income again.
But what really mattered was the realization that I’m bound to 3D printing. There’s no escape — not for me.
Me and 3D printing? We’re in a classic toxic relationship. We constantly fight and hurt each other, but when we try to live apart, it only gets worse. A love-hate relationship. I’ve come to terms with it.
I returned to writing. I created my historical content series, launched the 3DP War Journal on LinkedIn, and founded The 3D Printing Journal on Substack. Before I knew it, I became one of the most-read and most-discussed writers in the AM industry. After all the failures of 2023–2024, it was an incredible turnaround.
Yes, I’ve been through this before. From 2013 to 2020, I was one of the most important people in the AM industry — but only in Poland.
Now, it was different. This time, everyone in the industry was reading and commenting on my work. When I walked into Formnext in November 2024, everyone already knew who I was. And they were grateful for all my work.
How is that possible? Well, I have two extraordinary skills:
First, I can write about completely boring and dull things — like 3D printing — in a way that’s engaging and interesting. Let’s be honest: 3D printing is one of the dullest things on the planet. It’s just layers of material bonding one after another, until an object appears. And yet, somehow, I can turn it into a story.
The catch? You can’t make money from it. (More on that in a moment.)Which brings me to my second extraordinary skill: Somehow, I still manage to make money — offside, in side areas. I think that’s where our good old Polish resourcefulness comes in. Thanks to 45 years of communism, and over 120 years of partitions before that, we’ve learned how to hustle. How to survive in hostile conditions. How to forge gold from mud.
That’s why I don’t think anyone else could replicate my success. To do it, you’d have to know how to write beautifully about 3D printing — and also be Polish. And that’s a tragic combination… Wouldn’t recommend.
The psychology of innovation
Despite everything, over the past year, I kept trying to earn money solely through writing. To monetize the love and appreciation I was getting from readers into actual income.
Because — just by the way — never in my life have I felt so appreciated by so many people. I’ve received literally hundreds of spontaneous messages and comments from people simply wanting to say “thank you” for what I do. It’s amazing. Truly heartwarming. And I’m deeply grateful for it.
But... it doesn’t pay.
The biggest realization after a year of writing about 3D printing worldwide was this: people love reading what I write, but the number of people willing to pay for it is minuscule (literally under 10%; I tested this).
And by the way — this doesn’t apply just to me.
In case you didn’t know: people who write professionally about 3D printing aren’t millionaires. To make any real money, every editorial team actually earns revenue from something else — because editorial is not their core business. It’s more like their own advertising platform to sell other products and services (reports, conferences, AM services, etc.)
So I started thinking about it a lot. The more people read and praised my work, the more I asked myself: what exactly is the nature of this informal arrangement between us? What is the source of this free love — and why does money ruin it?
Eventually, I figured it out: the psychology behind the AM industry.
The starting point was this: among my regular readers — and increasingly, good friends — are some of the biggest and most important names in the industry. We talk about everything — the market, the products, but also very ordinary, personal stuff. These relationships are very pure and unique. And despite the obvious differences in income, for a moment during those conversations, we are equals. (But that’s just an illusion — more on that in a bit.)
There’s no room for monetization here. We’re golf buddies. Or tennis buddies. In a setup like this, you don’t pay the other person. That would be… sleazy.
For a moment I thought — maybe they’re just pretending to be friends? Maybe they just want to use our connection so I’ll write something nice about them. But… no. It’s not that shallow. It goes deeper. And I think I finally understand it.
AM Leaders Personas
We can divide the leaders of the AM industry into three categories:
Innovators – the largest group, over 90% of the industry. These are the people who invent and develop the technology. Think Charles Hull, Carl Deckard, Scott Crump, Hans Langer, Adrian Bowyer, and many, many more.
Visionaries – people who take the technology and elevate it to a higher level, presenting it in the real business world. They’re the ones who monetize AM. Examples: Avi Reichental, Bre Pettis, and more recently, Ric Fulop.
Hybrid of the two – innovators who successfully transformed their invention into a visionary business. I’ve only found three (and with all due respect, I’m not 100% sure about the last one): Maxim Lobovsky, Josef Průša, and Gregory Mark.
Let me say it right away: only the third group guarantees long-term success. (That’s why Mark comes with a question — he’s the only one who left his original company, but started a new one that’s just as innovative… so we’ll see.)
The second group often created visions that were disconnected from technological reality. Visionaries promise more than the current state of the technology can deliver. But they’re not liars — after all, Bre Pettis’ original vision came true, just a decade later, thanks to companies like Bambu Lab and Creality.
The source of all business problems in the AM industry lies in the first group — the Innovators. The very same people who push the development of 3D printing technology forward the most…are also the ones holding it back from full bloom.
And they have no idea they’re doing it!
To succeed in AM, you need to combine innovation with vision. The catch is — deep down, innovators despise visionaries. And visionaries can’t exist without the media. So… innovators despise the media.
Let me explain…
An innovator is an engineer. Their world is the workshop, the lab, the production floor. They hate Word, they love Excel. They hate Photoshop, they love CAD. They’re happy to post a selfie on social media, as long as there’s a machine or a 3D print next to them.
Their product — whether it’s a machine, a service, or software — is the ultimate value. It’s the most they can offer the world. The product is the result of their brain, body, and life force.
And now the key part: the innovator believes the product is valuable in and of itself. That it doesn’t need to be wrapped in a vision, or in marketing, or advertising.
The product is the vision.
The product is the marketing.
The product is the message.
Of course, the rest of the world doesn’t think that way — and the innovator can’t accept this. It pains them. That people are too stupid to recognize the scale and brilliance of their invention.
No one pays attention to the product. No one is impressed. No one buys it.
So the innovator is forced to bend the knee and go to someone who might write something about it. But they’re not going to pay for it — oh no. They won’t pay for two reasons:
First, because they don’t think anyone should be paid to write about their brilliant product. For the innovator, the very privilege of writing about their creation should be reward enough. The writer should feel honored to bask for a moment in the glow of their genius.
Second, because they have no money left anyway. Everything they had, they spent on the product. They didn’t budget for promotion, because they assumed it wouldn’t be needed. The product was supposed to sell itself. Because it’s just that good.
And so, the marvelous product of a great innovator drifts through the AM ecosystem. Someone’s heard of it, maybe someone’s bought it, somewhere it’s been installed. The innovator shows up at a few trade shows and conferences — that’s all they can afford.
Meanwhile, they post to social media 3–4 times a month, collecting 30–40 likes and 10–15 comments. Once every six months, something goes viral — 125 likes and 65 comments (30 of which are their own replies).
But nothing really moves forward.
The mutual struggle
And that, my friends, is how it goes in AM.
Writers like me whine and moan about how ungrateful the industry is, and how no one wants to pay for the hard work we do.
AM innovators whine and moan that people aren’t ready to adopt their amazing machines and technologies, and that the media just wants to squeeze money out of them for articles that never lead to anything.
But in the end, we love each other, because we need each other. But not for an additional cost.
There are no visionaries anymore. We’ve got, what, three hybrid entrepreneurs total?
So the industry drifts along, hoping that maybe, someday, a wave will come. Maybe those new tariffs will change something? Maybe… anything?
This article was originally published April 18, 2025 on VoxelMatters.