Failed prints are a business expense.
PrintDeck treats them like one.
Yes — PrintDeck accounts for failed prints. A fail is booked against the order it happened on: the filament it consumed, the machine time it burned, the wear it put on your printer. Capturing it takes a couple of taps and, if you want, a photo. And every fail you capture makes Oliver, your AI shop manager, better at spotting the pattern behind the next one.
That print was supposed to make you money.
When a print fails, four real costs land on your shop whether you write them down or not. Most tools shrug. A shrug is how a profitable-looking product quietly stops being one.
The filament is gone.
Failed filament is consumed filament. It came off a spool you paid for, and it's not going back on. PrintDeck deducts it from your inventory and prices it into the fail.
The machine time is gone.
Hours your printer spent on a print nobody can sell — hours it wasn't printing something that pays. Those hours still count toward wear and electricity.
The wear happened anyway.
Nozzles, belts, and beds age by the hour, not by the outcome. A failed print wears your machine exactly as much as a perfect one. PrintDeck books that wear at your printer's real rate.
Your time is gone too.
You sliced it, started it, checked on it — and now you get to clear the bed and do it again. That's the cost that never shows up anywhere, and the reason a fail deserves more than a shrug.
An actual fail line from a PrintDeck order receipt. The order's "you kept" number includes it — because your bank account does.
Two taps and a photo.
Not a form.
You log a fail from the same place you log a successful print. Mark it failed, tap how far along it got — a quarter, half, three-quarters, almost done — and PrintDeck estimates the wasted filament from the product's own specs.
Know the actual number? Type it — your number always wins over the estimate. That's a rule that runs all through PrintDeck: it will estimate to save you effort, but the moment you give it something real, the real thing is the truth. Works the same in both modes — Calculator shops estimate from the pool, Spool shops deduct from the exact spool that was loaded.
And if you snap a photo of the failure, Oliver reads it. Spaghetti, warping, layer shifts, adhesion — he tells you what he thinks happened and what's worth trying, using what he knows about that printer and that product's history. Not a generic checklist — a read of your failure.
One fail is bad luck.
Ten fails are a pattern with a price tag.
Here's the part that pays you back. Because every captured fail carries its printer, its product, and its filament, Oliver can see across them — and failures stop being isolated bad days.
A printer failing more than its share. A product that keeps dying on one specific material. A filament that misbehaves everywhere it's used. Those are connections a spreadsheet row can't show you — and Oliver raises them with the real cost attached, so "maybe something's off" becomes a number you can act on. He'll suggest what to check; what to do about it stays your call.
The loop, stated plainly: counting your fails is how you stop paying for them twice. Once because the print died — that money's spent. Twice when the pattern behind it goes unseen and next month buys the same failure again. Capture feeds Oliver; Oliver hands it back when it matters most. That's the deal across all of PrintDeck: it gives as much as it's given.