There Is No Such Thing as a “Quick” Website Update

“Can we make one quick update to the website?”

Of course.

What could possibly happen?

You would like to change three sentences on one page. This should take approximately seven minutes.

I log into the website.

While navigating to the page, I notice the menu still uses the old name for the service we're about to update.

Okay. We should probably change that too.

The three sentences are easy enough to change, except the new copy references a service that has its own page, and that page still has the old pricing.

We should update that.

The pricing also appears in the FAQ.

And on the booking page.

And, for reasons nobody currently remembers, in a downloadable PDF created in 2023.

We are now 11 minutes into our seven-minute project.

Welcome to website maintenance.

Websites are very good at accumulating things.

Most small-business websites evolve.

Someone adds a service. Someone leaves. Prices change. Hours change. A new page gets added for an event. The event passes, but the page remains.

Eventually, the website becomes a little archaeological record of every version of the business that has existed since the site launched.

The website does not attend staff meetings. It does not overhear that you stopped offering a service six months ago. It will happily continue telling the public whatever you told it in 2022 until someone changes it.

Everything is connected to something else.

Changing text is often quick.

Figuring out everywhere that text needs to change is the actual work.

Change a phone number and it may appear in the header, footer, contact page, mobile menu, booking page, service pages, and some mysterious corner built four years ago.

None of those things are individually complicated.

They just multiply.

Websites are very talented at multiplication.

And then I notice something.

This is perhaps my personal downfall.

I can make the requested change and leave.

I know this.

But then I notice the button underneath says “Learn More” and links to a page that no longer exists.

Well.

We're here.

Let's fix that.

Then I check mobile. The headline wraps strangely. The spacing looks weird. The contact form asks a question that is no longer relevant. I test the form.

This is how a website update expands.

There is also the inconvenient fact that once I see something, I know it exists.

I cannot unknow the broken button.

The website you remember may not be the website you have.

A business owner will tell me something is definitely on the website.

We look.

It is not.

Or someone says, “We took that down years ago.” Reader, we did not.

There it is.

Still indexed by Google.

This is why I recommend periodically looking at your website like a customer.

Google yourself. Open it on your phone. Try to book. Try to contact yourself. Check the hours. Click the social icons.

You may discover things.

Some discoveries will become my next “quick update.”

A website is not a brochure you finished.

A website is living business infrastructure.

It should change because your business changes.

Maintenance is a normal part of having a website, not evidence that something has gone wrong.

Sometimes the quick update really is quick.

These are beautiful moments.

I treasure them.

But if I tell you your tiny website change will take a little longer, there is probably a reason.

Maybe the mobile version has decided today is the day it develops a personality.

Either way, I'll take care of it.

I just might need more than seven minutes.