Sometime around 2020, something shifted in how people think about work. The pandemic obviously played a role, but the change runs deeper than remote work and Zoom fatigue. More people than ever are building things on the side — small businesses, creative projects, digital products — and many of them have no intention of quitting their day jobs to do it full time.

This isn’t the hustle culture narrative of “grind until you make it.” It’s something quieter and more sustainable. People building things they care about, at their own pace, on their own terms.

Why now?

Several forces have converged to make side projects more viable than at any point in history.

The tools are better and cheaper. Want to sell products online? Shopify costs $39 per month. Want to publish a newsletter? Substack is free. Need a website? You can build something professional-looking on Squarespace in an afternoon. Design work? Canva. Payments? Stripe. The infrastructure that used to require thousands in upfront investment is now available for pocket change.

Remote work freed up time. When you eliminate a daily commute, you gain 5-10 hours per week. Some people filled that time with Netflix. Others started building things. The flexibility of remote and hybrid work also means you can structure your day to accommodate a side project without burning out.

The economics of full-time employment have changed. Real wages haven’t kept pace with housing costs in most Australian cities. A single income stream feels increasingly precarious. Side income doesn’t just pad the bank account — it provides psychological security. If your employer cuts your role, you have something to fall back on.

Social media normalised it. Seeing other people build successful side projects on Twitter, YouTube, and LinkedIn created a permission structure that didn’t exist before. It’s no longer unusual or eyebrow-raising to have a side business. It’s increasingly expected.

What people are actually building

The variety is staggering, but some patterns emerge:

Digital products. E-books, online courses, templates, design assets, Notion setups. These are attractive because they scale without additional work — you create the product once and sell it indefinitely. The market is crowded, but the barrier to entry is low and the potential margin is high.

Content businesses. Newsletters, podcasts, YouTube channels, blogs. The creator economy keeps growing because the model works: build an audience around a topic you know well, then monetise through ads, sponsorships, paid subscriptions, or affiliated products.

Freelance services. Consulting, design, writing, development, bookkeeping. These don’t scale as well as products, but they generate revenue immediately and build skills that feed back into your career.

Physical products. Etsy shops, small-batch food products, custom merchandise. These involve more logistics but can be deeply satisfying for people who enjoy making tangible things.

Software tools. With no-code platforms and AI-assisted development, it’s now possible for non-developers to build functional software products. Solo founders are creating SaaS tools that serve niche markets too small for big companies to bother with.

The micro-business advantage

Micro-businesses — typically one or two people generating modest revenue — have structural advantages that larger businesses don’t.

Zero overhead. When your office is your kitchen table and your staff is you, your cost base is essentially zero. This means you’re profitable from your first dollar of revenue.

Speed of execution. No approvals, no meetings, no consensus-building. You have an idea, you try it. If it works, you do more. If it doesn’t, you move on. This agility is impossible in any organisation with more than a handful of people.

Authentic connection. Customers prefer buying from real people. A micro-business owner who responds to every email personally creates loyalty that large companies can’t match.

What holds people back

Most people who want to start something never do. The reasons are usually psychological rather than practical.

Perfectionism. Waiting until everything is perfect means never launching. The most successful founders I know shipped rough first versions and improved based on feedback.

Fear of public failure. These fears are natural but overblown. Most people won’t notice your side project, and the ones who do are usually supportive.

Time anxiety. Most people spend 3-4 hours per day on their phones doing things they don’t value. Reclaiming half that time creates plenty of space for a side project.

The healthy approach

Build something you’d want to exist, regardless of whether it makes money. Start small and iterate. Set boundaries — a side project that consumes every evening isn’t a side project, it’s a second job.

Don’t quit your day job prematurely. The security of regular income lets you take risks you couldn’t otherwise afford. The best side projects start as curiosity and grow into something meaningful. They don’t need to become empires.