The most beautiful code is the code that doesn't have to do anything anymore.
Right now, we're hiring
no one.
Except you. Maybe. Later.
The careers page of a company honest enough to say when it isn't hiring — and smart enough to remember who would be worth it.
Code is writing.
We read more than we type. Both have to be good. Variable names are characters, functions are sentences, modules are chapters.
Speed is a consequence, not a goal.
Substance makes you fast on its own. The reverse doesn't work. We ship in weeks — because we think first, not because we sprint.
We hire when we have to grow. Not because we're supposed to.
That's why there's no opening listed here right now. We know our workload, we know our pipeline. And we know the price of growing too fast.
What we're building right now.
Four anonymized projects from the last few weeks. No platitudes — real substance. Scroll horizontally.
Not every call needs a human. Just the right ones.
We don't have less work. We have different work.
Fax machines aren't the problem. But they are a symptom.
Six people. One workshop.
No LinkedIn lookbook. One fact per person — but not the one on the CV.
Eight reasons people stay.
No fruit baskets. No beanbags. But this:
Apple Silicon. Straight out of the box.
MacBook Pro M-series, 16" or 14", your call. Studio Display for the office. Magic Keyboard. Trackpad. Anything that won't complain during a build. Our take: if you stare at a laptop six hours a day, the laptop shouldn't be the thing that bothers you.
Wherever your chair is, that's the office.
Bensheim, Berlin, Bali — fine by us. As long as you're reachable when something's on fire.
Your market rate. Plus 12%.
We benchmark the industry. Then we add a little on top. Because we can.
Pizza Day. Sacred.
Eight kinds. Wood oven. Nobody talks tickets while we eat. Not even Markus.
Game Nights, no cringe.
Mario Kart, Catan, Parcheesi. No obligation. No performing. But somebody always shows up.
€1,500 a year for stuff that makes you better.
Conferences, books, courses, a 200-page Postgres tome. We don't ask for receipts on your curiosity.
Travel & shopping perks that don't taste like Excel.
Corporate Benefits, bike leasing, rail pass. Plus: a company phone you'll also use to send your kids nonsense.
Six people you actually know.
No "manager." No "stakeholder sync." Just people you can review code with, share bread with, and occasionally sigh with.
Your idea wins. Even if you've been here three weeks.
We argue well. We argue short. Whoever's right is right. Hierarchy here is a calendar entry, not a filter.
and yes, the coffee is good. we have a proper espresso machine. we take this seriously.
Here's what it looks like.
No tickets-per-hour metric. Just one Thursday in April.
Coffee. Nobody talks. That's the rule.
Pull Request with four comments. Three of them "Yeah, fine.", one "Why like that?".
Lunch break. Nobody talks about code. Except Markus, who can't help it.
Client call. We listen more than we talk. Notes go straight into the repo.
Last commit. Not because it's done — because it's good enough for today.
When we do hire again, here's who we'll probably be looking for:
- Someone who doesn't just know TypeScript, but actually likes it.
- Someone who knows what Postgres does when you let it.
- Someone who's already broken a migration. And learned from it.
- Someone for whom "production" means more than a branch name.
- Someone who likes to explain. And likes to ask.
If any of this rings a bell — even halfway — keep reading.
We'd love to take you. But we're one chair short.
Our office has six desks, one coffee machine, and exactly one chair too few. The chair is the problem. The desks are on purpose.
We're currently not offering FOS internships (vocational school placements) — not because we don't want to (we do), but because an internship here is worthless if the intern is on a video call while a code review is happening three meters away that she should be witnessing live.
An internship at Cogswell means: sitting next to someone, reading along, asking questions, getting your own branch. That doesn't work from a home office. And it doesn't work when the chair is out in the hallway.
- As soon as we get more office space, we'll reopen internship slots.
- If you want to write to us anyway — go ahead. We remember good people.
- Send us your message in a bottle (below). Tag it: FOS.
Write to us. We read everything.
No cover letter. No mandatory CV. Tell us the thing nobody else asks you about.
Got you.
You'll hear from us when the wind is right.