The Company That Sells You Your Own Work Back
There is a genre of software company that gets founded because two people were personally, specifically annoyed. Pirros is squarely in that genre. Its co-founders, Ari Baranian and Peter Johann, were structural engineers, which means they spent a meaningful share of their working lives looking for a drawing they were certain existed - a wall section, a connection detail, a footing - that some colleague had already drawn, perfected, and then buried in a server folder with a name like "Final_v3_USE_THIS."
The economically interesting thing about this problem is that the work was already done. The detail existed. Someone had been paid to draw it, someone else had been paid to check it, and it had been stamped and built. The value was sitting right there. It was just, functionally, lost - which in an architecture or engineering firm means it gets redrawn, re-checked, and re-paid-for, over and over, by people who don't know it already exists two folders over.
Pirros' entire pitch is that reuse beats redraw. The unusual part is how many firms turned out to agree.
So Baranian and Johann built Pirros, which the industry press likes to call "GitHub for construction." That's a useful shorthand - a shared place where a firm's accumulated work lives, is versioned, and can be pulled into new projects - but it undersells the specific trick. The trick is that Pirros doesn't ask anyone to organize anything.
The tagging tax nobody pays
Every previous attempt to fix detail libraries ran into the same wall: they required humans to tag, file, and maintain the content. And humans, reliably, don't. Tagging is a tax on the busy, and the busy don't pay it, so the library rots. Pirros' answer was to skip the tax entirely. It ingests a firm's Revit history automatically, de-duplicates it, and lets people search on the geometry of a detail - what it actually looks like - rather than on metadata somebody was supposed to type and didn't. You search the way you'd search Google. The library organizes itself.
That design choice cascades into the more interesting behavior. Because Pirros can see what details people actually pull and reuse, a firm's real standards stop being a committee decision and start being an observable fact. The details that get reused a lot are the standard, by definition. Pirros just surfaces it. Firms report their standards libraries growing six to eight times in the first year - not because someone mandated it, but because the reuse was already happening and now it's visible.
What you can actually do with it
Concretely: a designer working in Revit opens Pirros, searches for the kind of detail they need, compares versions across old projects, checks which ones a firm has vetted and approved, and batch-loads the right ones straight into their active model. There are QA/QC and approval workflows so a firm can control what's blessed versus what's reference-only, plus usage analytics that tell leadership which content is doing the work. It plugs directly into Revit and Autodesk's Construction Cloud, which matters, because the whole point is that it lives where the designers already are.
Firms using Pirros report cutting time spent digging through legacy models by roughly half, and recovering something north of $200,000 a year in what would otherwise be redrawn work. One customer, the structural firm Buehler, logs around 10,000 detail views a quarter - which is a slightly wild number if you sit with it, because it means the thing designers used to avoid opening is now something they open constantly.
