PrintDeck meets you where you are.
PrintDeck is shop-management software for people who sell 3D prints. It computes your real profit from whatever data you give it — and it gives you as much intelligence as it possibly can from as little data as you're willing to enter. Give it more, and every new layer comes back to you through Oliver, your AI shop manager, at the moment it matters.
Three ways to run it.
Every one of them is legitimate.
There's no wrong amount of PrintDeck. Each rung below is a real way shops use it every day — and each one is a complete experience, not a crippled trial of the next.
Just tell me if I'm making money.
Use PrintDeck as a profit calculator with a memory. Set a product's specs once — filament grams, print hours, what you charge — and every sale after that computes itself. The home screen tells you what you made this week, in dollars, without a spreadsheet.
If that's all you want — PrintDeck is for you.Show me the true picture.
Add your expenses — filament purchases, shipping, marketplace fees, the LED bases and glue sticks — and the weekly number stops being an estimate. Now it's what actually left your shop against what actually came in: whether you're truly profitable, not just busy.
If that's what you need — PrintDeck is for you.Track every spool, down to the gram.
Log which spool went on which printer and PrintDeck keeps shelf-level truth: how much blue is actually left before you start printing that dragon, which order is about to eat the last of your gold, when to reorder before a deadline hits.
If you want that level of control — PrintDeck is also for you.
Every layer you give it
feeds the next one.
The intelligence in PrintDeck isn't magic — it's your own shop's data, organized and handed back at the right moment. The layer that feeds Oliver is the layer you give him.
Product specs feed the profit math. The profit math feeds the weekly hero. Expenses feed the true-kept number. Spool tracking feeds the shelf. And all of it together is what lets Oliver stop being a chatbot and start being a shop manager — one who notices things because you gave him the eyes to notice them with. That's the deal, stated plainly: PrintDeck gives back as much as it's given.
That warning exists only because this shop tracks spools. A pricing calculator has no shelf — it can't say this, ever.
Calculator mode loses you nothing.
Tracker mode buys you sight.
This is the first choice you make in PrintDeck, and the one shops ask about most. The honest answer: Calculator mode is not the lesser mode. It's the faster one.
Set it once. It just knows.
- What it asks of you: your product's specs, one time, on the product card — grams, hours, price. That card is where PrintDeck always draws from; change the card, and every future number follows.
- What you get: real profit math on every order and quick sale — materials, wear, fails, fees — with almost no logging. The weekly "what you made" hero, fed by nothing more than the sales you were already recording.
- What you give up: nothing in the math. Every cost line a Tracker shop sees, you see. You're trading shelf awareness for speed — PrintDeck knows what a print costs you, but not which spool it came off of.
More work. More sight.
- What it asks of you: the physical truth — which spool you loaded, which you pulled, which one those 162 grams actually came from. It's real work, and PrintDeck doesn't pretend otherwise.
- What you get: a live shelf. Gram-level stock, per-spool history, and Oliver watching your inventory against your open orders — warning you before you start a print your shelf can't finish.
- Switching: modes aren't a contract. Start as a calculator, turn on the shelf when the shop grows into it — same products, same history, nothing re-entered.
Two minutes is nothing.
Until it's forty-three things.
A real example from a real shop. A product went into PrintDeck as one simple item. But the printed thing was actually a component build — seventeen bases on one plate, side pieces on another, glued together afterward.
Modeled as components, PrintDeck now knows this product gets assembled — so it asks the question a spreadsheet never asks: how long does that take? And then it hands you a choice, because it's your shop: count that time in the price, or don't. What it won't let happen is the silent version — where assembly time exists, costs you real hours, and appears on no receipt anywhere.
This is the pattern behind everything PrintDeck does. Small honest numbers, captured where the work happens, multiplied by the reality of a production shop. One fail feels like bad luck; booked properly, ten fails reveal the printer that's costing you money. Two minutes of assembly feels free; at quantity, it's the difference between a product that carries the shop and one that quietly eats it.