The end of joyful 3D printing — L’histoire de Le FabShop

Although they existed for only four years, they became one of the pillars of playful, consumer 3D printing

Consumer 3D printing was short-lived, it failed, and the companies promoting it burned irretrievably hundreds of millions of dollars (and that’s with very liberal estimates).

But it’s thanks to that movement we are here.

So, while it may be somewhat embarrassing to recall now, without the “3D printers in every home” hype, Additive Manufacturing wouldn’t have spread so quickly in industry either.

That said, those times had their own charm. Take, for example, the “3D printing evangelists” — that was a real job title, a real position in a company.

Such an evangelist would travel the world visiting events, trade shows, and conferences, spreading the good news.

That 3D printing was the new industrial revolution, one that would make each of us a manufacturer.

That everyone was a maker. Everyone would produce things at home. Everything they could imagine.

Although from today’s perspective we can openly say that these were lies, most evangelists considered it more of an “omission” or a “figure of speech.” Because it was always somewhat understood that “everything” really meant “…but only in plastic, in one color, not too big, and not too complex.”

3D printing evangelists, educators, designers — visionaries. They were supposed to make the world better — more sustainable, democratized, and accessible.

Thanks to them, 3D printing was colorful, cheerful, and charming. It was all very romantic. Like a 3D-printed equivalent of the hippie revolution.

Le FabShop was the epitome of this. When I describe what they did in a moment, you might think it was all nonsense. When I explain why they ceased operations after just four years, you might think they managed to stay afloat for longer than expected.

But it’s an integral part of the history of 3D printing. That’s just how it was.

“The Hello World of 3D Printing”