No, We're Not Adding Folders

I get the same feature request about once a week.

"Love Gravity, but could you add folders?" "Would be perfect if I could tag notes." "Any plans for linking between notes?" "An API would be amazing."

The answer to all of these is no. Not "not yet"—just no.

This probably sounds like bad product thinking. Aren't you supposed to listen to users? Give them what they ask for? Iterate toward their needs?

Usually, yes. But there's a specific reason Gravity works the way it works, and adding these features would break it. The limitations aren't gaps—they're the design.

By the end of this post, you'll understand:

• Why every "obvious" feature request makes Gravity worse, not better
• The specific tax each organizational feature levies on your attention
• How to recognize when a tool's simplicity is the feature

The folder request

"Could you add folders? I have work stuff and personal stuff and I want to keep them separate."

I understand the instinct. Folders are how we've organized information since the invention of filing cabinets. They feel natural.

Here's what happens when you add folders to a capture tool:

You're in a meeting. Someone says something you want to remember. You reach for your phone. Which folder does this go in? Work, obviously. But which subfolder? Is there a subfolder for this project yet? Should you create one? Actually, wait—should you create a "meetings" folder? You have 3 seconds before the moment passes.

Folders add a decision between "I have a thought" and "the thought is captured." That decision takes mental energy. Sometimes it causes hesitation. Sometimes the thought just doesn't get captured because the friction is high enough to break the moment.

Multiply this by every thought, every day. The folder system that "helps you stay organized" is costing you 2-4 seconds per capture plus a small cognitive tax. Across hundreds of notes, that's real time and real mental overhead.

Gravity's answer: there's one stream. The question "where does this go?" doesn't exist because there's only one answer. Open app, type thought, done. Zero decisions.

The tag request

"What about tags instead of folders? More flexible, right?"

Tags are folders that can overlap. Same problem, different shape.

I've watched myself do this in other apps: I capture a thought, then spend 15 seconds thinking about what tags apply. Is it #idea or #project-related? Should I use my #toread tag or is this more of a #reference? Wait, did I already create a tag for this kind of thing?

Meanwhile, the thought I was trying to capture has faded slightly. I've shifted from "offloading from working memory" to "doing taxonomy." These are not the same mental mode.

And tags accumulate. In my old system I had over 200 tags, of which maybe 30 were useful and the rest were variations and experiments I'd forgotten about. The taxonomy became its own maintenance project.

Gravity's alternative: use prefixes if you want. Type todo: or read: at the start of a note. It's just text—you can search for it, filter by it. But there's no tagging system to maintain. You're not populating a database. You're just writing words.

The linking request

"What about connecting notes? Like Roam or Obsidian? [[wikilinks]]?"

This one's interesting because links seem almost free. You just type [[this]] and it creates a connection. What's the harm?

The harm is that links are relationships you have to think about and maintain.

When you write a new note, you start wondering: does this connect to something I've already written? Should I link it? What about backlinks—if I link from here, will it clutter the other note? You're not just capturing anymore; you're curating a graph.

Some people love this. If you're building a research database or a personal wiki, links are genuinely useful. But for capturing fleeting thoughts throughout the day? Links are architecture for a house you're not building.

Gravity treats each note as atomic. It came from your mind at a moment in time, it lives in the stream, it sinks or gets rescued based on whether it catches your future attention. That's the whole relationship model. Time, not links.

The template request

"Could you add templates? Like a daily notes template with sections for todos, gratitude, etc?"

Templates are for structured thinking. Gravity is for unstructured capture.

The moment you have a template, you're not capturing what's on your mind—you're filling in boxes. "What am I grateful for today?" becomes a prompt you feel obligated to answer rather than a thought that arises naturally.

Templates also assume your thinking is regular and predictable. Same categories every day. Same structure. But most thoughts don't fit neatly into predefined sections. A template-first app makes you reshape your thinking to match the template. A capture-first app takes your thinking as it comes.

The API request

"Would love to integrate Gravity with my other tools. Any plans for an API?"

An API means Gravity becomes a node in a larger system. Other tools pull from it, push to it, automate around it.

This sounds powerful but it subtly changes what Gravity is. It stops being your single stream of consciousness and starts being a component in a productivity stack. The simplicity isn't just about the interface—it's about the role the tool plays in your life. One stream means one stream, not "one stream plus automated exports to Notion plus IFTTT triggers."

Gravity is intentionally standalone. Your thoughts go in. You review them. That's it.

The pattern behind the requests

Notice what all these feature requests have in common: they're solutions to the retrieval problem.

Folders help you find things by category. Tags help you find things by attribute. Links help you find things by relationship. Templates help you generate consistent data that's easier to find. APIs help you find things from other tools.

But retrieval assumes you're going to look for things. And here's the uncomfortable truth: most notes are never retrieved. You write them once and never actively search for them again. They served their purpose at the time of capture—clearing your working memory—and that's the end of their utility.

If retrieval is rare, optimizing for it is a mistake. Every retrieval feature adds friction at capture time, which is the one time you're definitely using the app.

Gravity optimizes for capture. The "review and rescue" mechanic is a different kind of retrieval—passive, attention-based, zero effort. You scroll, things catch your eye or they don't. What matters surfaces. What doesn't, sinks.

Who should not use Gravity

I want to be clear: if you need these features, you should use a different tool.

If you manage complex projects with many moving parts, use a project management tool. Gravity can't track dependencies or timelines.

If you do research across dozens of sources, use a tool built for synthesis. Gravity can't help you connect ideas across a large corpus.

If you collaborate with others, use something with sharing and comments. Gravity is a solo thinking tool.

If you're drafting long-form content, use a writing app. Gravity captures fragments, not essays.

These aren't apologies—they're genuine scope limitations. Gravity does one thing, and these are different things.

But if your note-taking life looks like this: scattered thoughts throughout the day, quick capture on your phone, periodic review to see what's still on your mind... then the "missing features" are exactly what lets Gravity do its job.

The question behind the question

When someone asks for folders, they're usually asking: "How do I stay organized?"

But organization isn't inherently valuable. It's only valuable if it helps you use your notes. And the uncomfortable question is: how often are you actually using your notes versus maintaining your system?

If the honest answer is "mostly maintaining," then more organizational features won't help. They'll make the problem worse. You'll have more system to maintain.

Gravity is what happens when you remove the system entirely. One stream. No organization. Let time and attention do the work.

It's not for everyone. But if you've ever felt buried by your own productivity tools, if your note-taking app has become a second job, if you suspect that the "system" is procrastination in disguise—the answer might not be a better system.

It might be no system at all.