Why I Built Videonomy

I spent 25 years making videos.

Not thinking about video. Not consulting on video. Actually making it — in Istanbul, across agencies, brands, NGOs, broadcast networks. Hundreds of projects. Thousands of hours on set, in edit suites, in rooms where someone was trying to explain what they needed and I was trying to figure out how to build it.

I got very good at production. And somewhere along the way, I noticed something that bothered me for years before I understood what to do with it.

The Problem I Kept Seeing

Every client who came back — and the good ones always came back — came back with the same brief. Not the same creative direction. The same structural problem.

A brand with 400 products needed product videos. We made some. They came back the next quarter. We made more. Same format, different SKUs. Same structure, different data. The team briefed us from scratch every time. We quoted. They approved. We produced. It cost the same. It took the same time. And everyone accepted this as normal.

A sports organisation needed end-of-season messages. We filmed the manager. We cut 3,000 versions — one per member, personalised by name, tenure, and squad. It took weeks. We did it brilliantly. The next season, they called again. Same project. Same brief. Same timeline. Same cost.

An NGO needed to communicate with 50,000 donors. Each communication needed to feel personal. We found a way. We were proud of the work. They came back two years later. We started over.

Every project was treated as the first. No system carried forward. No architecture persisted. The craft was there. The knowledge was there. The institutional memory was not.

What I Understood in Year 20

It took me until about year 20 to understand the pattern clearly enough to name it.

The organisations that kept coming back weren’t coming back because they needed better video. They were coming back because they had a repeating format problem with no repeating format solution. And the industry — my industry — was structured to treat each return visit as a fresh project, a fresh invoice, a fresh start.

This worked fine for production businesses. It was expensive and slow for clients. And it was, if I’m honest, a missed opportunity for everyone.

The real value wasn’t in any single video. It was in the architecture underneath: the format, the data structure, the template that could run indefinitely without human intervention once it was built correctly.

I could see it. I just didn’t build it yet.

The Turn

The turn came from a conversation, not a brief.

A client — a platform business, volume content, repeating format — asked me something I hadn’t been asked before: “Can we build this so it runs without us calling you every time?”

And I realised: yes. We can. The technology exists. The pattern is clear. The only reason this hadn’t been built is that no one in production was incentivised to build it. Agencies make money on repeat briefs. Freelancers make money on day rates. The entire supply chain is structured around manual, billable production time.

The client wanted infrastructure. The market was selling them labour.

That gap is Videonomy.

What I’m Building

Videonomy is not a production company. It’s not an agency. It’s not a SaaS tool.

It’s a studio that designs video production systems — pipelines built once, triggered by data, run indefinitely without rebuilding from scratch.

The work looks like production at the front end: there’s template design, there’s camera work where it’s needed, there’s an edit sensibility in how the system renders. But the output isn’t a finished video. It’s a working machine that produces finished videos — at volume, on demand, at near-zero marginal cost after the build.

Twenty-five years of production taught me what the system needs to produce. The last few years taught me how to build the system itself.

Who This Is For

Not everyone. The organisations that benefit from this are specific.

They have a repeating format — same structure, different data — and they’re producing it manually, at cost, again and again. They have volume: not ten videos a year, but hundreds or thousands. They have data that’s already structured somewhere — a CRM, a spreadsheet, a product catalogue — they just haven’t connected it to their production process.

If that’s you, the economics are completely different on the other side of a built pipeline. Fixed architecture cost. Near-zero marginal cost per render. Your team triggers production runs without briefing anyone.

If it’s not you — if you have a one-off creative project, a campaign that won’t repeat, a brief that’s fundamentally about craft rather than volume — then I’m probably not the right fit, and I’d rather tell you that now.

Why London, Why Now

I moved to London from Istanbul with a clear intention: to build the studio I couldn’t build before, with the understanding I didn’t have before.

Istanbul gave me the production depth. London gives me the market access — organisations at scale, infrastructure thinking, a client base that understands systems investment.

The timing is right. The tools are there. The pattern I spent 25 years recognising is finally something I can build a solution around.

If any of this sounds relevant to what your organisation does with video, the best next step is a conversation. Not a pitch — a technical scoping call. We figure out whether the problem fits the solution before anything else.

That’s how I’ve always worked. That’s how this works.

— Cahit