Torspan
AirOrchestra — Questions

Questions, including the ones with bad answers.

Everything is on this page. Every answer is open, nothing is behind a click, and there's no form in the middle. Where the answer is no, it says no. Where nobody knows yet, it says that too.

Use your browser's find. There is nothing on this page behind anything else.

What the crew asks.

These come up in the truck, not in a meeting. They get answered here in the same words they get asked in.

Is it tracking me?

No. There is no location in it at all — no GPS, no geofence, no clock-in radius, no map, no check-in, no "last seen." Nobody can open this and see where you are, because it never asked your phone where you are. That is not a setting somebody could turn back on. There is no column for it to write to.

Everything it doesn't collect →

Is it listening?

No. It does not record calls, does not transcribe a site walk, and does not run in the background. Every word in the record is a word somebody chose to type, or to dictate with his own phone's keyboard, and send. If nobody said anything, there is nothing there — and it says the day is blank instead of filling one in.

What it will not do, unhedged →

Can my foreman read what I write in there?

Yes, and you should know that before you write anything. What you say into the app about the work is a work record: your foreman can read his crew's, the office can read everybody's. It was never sold as a diary.

What nobody can read — not your foreman, not the owner, not Torspan — is anything about you as a person. Where you were. How fast you worked. How you stack up against the man next to you. Those are not permissions that happen to be switched off. They are columns that do not exist.

The whole grid, role by role →

Is there a score on me?

No score, no ranking, no leaderboard, no per-man number of any kind. Your totals screen shows your own hours, your own week, your own month. There is no version of that screen with the crew listed underneath, because there is no number about a man in this product to sort.

For crews →

What if I don't write in English?

Write in whatever language you talk in. The message is kept word for word, in the language you wrote it, and that stored sentence is the thing every record points back at. Nobody translates you into English and then loses what you actually said.

How one sentence becomes the day's records →

I type with gloves on and I spell things wrong.

Doesn't matter. Punctuation doesn't matter either, and neither does whether it's a sentence. Dictate it with your own phone's keyboard if that's faster.

The first thing that comes back is one plain paragraph telling you what it understood. If that paragraph is wrong, say so in your next message and it's fixed in the same conversation. There is nothing to confirm, no "reply YES," no second step.

The app →

Do I have to put this on my own phone?

That is between you and whoever signs your check, and it is a fair thing to ask him.

What we will say is this: it runs on the phone you already text the foreman on, it runs in a browser if you'd rather not install anything, and it does not touch your contacts, your location, your other messages or your camera roll. It gets the photo you hand it. Nothing else.

The app →

I've got an Android.

The same app, the same records, the same sign-in, in the browser on any phone. There is no native Android app.

The app →

Can I delete a photo I sent?

Your own, any time, with nobody's approval and no time window on it. It's gone from the app that second and out of the backups within thirty-five days.

What's kept, and for how long →

Can somebody change what I said?

No. A record can be corrected — an hour gets fixed, a caption gets rewritten — but the sentence it was built from stays exactly where it was, in your words, in your language, with your name and the time on it. Whoever made the correction is on the record too.

Hours →

Could this get me fired?

It is a record, and a record can be read by whoever is allowed to read it. Pretending otherwise would be the first lie on this website.

What it does not do is build a case by itself. There is no score, no ranking, no productivity number, no location, nothing that adds a man up. And it cuts the other way too — you get the same file your boss has, the words you actually said, on the day you said them, still there in November. Most men who got burned on a "he said" got burned because nothing was written down.

What is never collected →

Am I training the thing that replaces me?

No. Nothing your crew writes is used to train anything — not here, not at anybody else's company. That is in the contract, not only on a page.

And the work it takes off you is paperwork. It does not hang duct, it does not set a curb, it does not know what a plenum sounds like when the seam is wrong, and it never will.

What is never done with what your crew writes →

What the foreman asks.

Will it make something up?

It does not answer out of a document it hasn't read. It names the sheet instead.

Where two sheets disagree, it names both and does not pick one. Where the words and the schedule disagree about which job a photo belongs to, it files the photo nowhere, names both jobs, and asks. Where nobody described the day, the day stays blank and says so.

It will be wrong sometimes, the way a man reading the wrong revision is wrong. What it will not do is be wrong quietly.

That is the whole feature. Anybody can screenshot a citation.

Invented crew, invented job, invented sheet number. This reply is drawn by hand for the page — it is not a real answer about a real building.

Everything it's read, and everything it hasn't →

Do I have to make them use it?

No, and that is the entire design. There is no form to enforce, no field to chase, no screen anybody opens at the end of the day. A man sends the same kind of message he was already sending you.

If a man sends nothing, nothing gets written for him, and the day shows the gap as a gap. You are not the enforcer of anything, because there is nothing to enforce.

The ninety seconds you say Monday morning →

What happens on a day nobody says anything?

Nothing gets written. No plan, no hours, no report, no summary of a day nobody described.

Blank, and saying so, is a day you can still argue about eight months from now. A day filled in for you is not.

Invented job, invented date. Drawn by hand for the page — no screen on this site is a live figure out of anybody's job.

That is the second of the ten positions this thing is built on, and it is the one that cost the most to hold: an empty screen is an honest screen. Every system you have used before filled that day in with something plausible, and the day it mattered, plausible was worth nothing.

What it won't do →

Can I put in another man's hours?

Yes, with one rule. You have to name him in your own words — "eight for Marco and Dee, six for Tomas, he left at one" — and that name is checked against the message you actually sent before anything gets written.

Each entry carries your sentence and your name as the man who submitted it. Say the same thing twice and you still get one entry, not two.

Hours →

If it writes the pre-task plan, whose plan is it?

Yours. It builds the plan out of what you said about the day's work — one per man, each with him as its subject and the crew listed on it — and you read it before your men sign it.

It does not decide the work is safe, it does not sign anything, and it does not put a name on a plan that man didn't acknowledge.

Safety paperwork →

Can it just fill in a plan for a day nobody described?

On its own, never. That is the line the whole product is built on.

If a person asks it directly — write today's off a day like it — it does what it was asked, and it marks that row as patterned rather than reported. Not a watermark on the poster, a flag in the record, so anyone can pull every patterned row in the company with one query and see exactly which is which.

The refusal is not "I won't help you." It is "I won't do it quietly."

Safety paperwork →

What if it gets a man's hours wrong?

Somebody says so and it's fixed in the same conversation, with the sentence it was built from sitting right there to argue with. The argument is about words a man said, not about software.

And the system never creates hours on its own. Not from movement, not from app activity, not from a man being on the job, not overnight. A man's pay is never a machine's guess.

Hours →

Does it tell my boss what I didn't get done?

It does not report on you. There is no dashboard of foremen, no completion rate, no chart of who filed what, no per-crew ranking. What the office sees is the day's work as your crew described it, with their names on their own words.

Who can see what →

My guys are union. Is this going to be a problem?

There is nothing in it that measures a man: no location, no productivity number, no output per hour, no ranking. The hours in it are what your men said they worked, in their own words, kept for years — which is the record that protects them as much as it protects you.

If somebody wants to read the whole list of what it collects and what it refuses to collect, it is one page and nobody has to ask us for it.

What is never collected →

What about a mechanical room with no signal?

That is the normal case, not the edge case. What a man does with no bars is queued on his phone with the real time on it and goes when he walks out. Nothing is lost, and nothing is re-dated to the minute it finally uploaded.

The app →

Am I going to look stupid if this doesn't work in front of the GC?

There is nothing to demonstrate. You do not stand in front of anybody and drive this — there is no screen to walk somebody through, no login to fumble at the gang box, no button to find while a GC super watches. The riskiest thing you do in public with it is hold your phone the way you already hold it.

For foremen →

How do the guys actually get on it?

The office creates the account against a work email and the man signs in on his phone. Nothing to search for, nothing to install while you are standing at the gang box, nothing for you to walk anybody through.

The ninety seconds →

What the office asks.

How do the hours get to payroll?

As a file, not a connector. A CSV and an XLSX, pulled off a desktop whenever the office wants them: person, date, job, hours, cost code where one is recorded, the sentence each entry came from, and who submitted it. The column names and their order are set once, the way your bookkeeper already keys them, and then never touched again. The same file leaving on a schedule, without anybody pulling it, is on our year.

The per-man week as its own PDF — his days, his hours, his jobs, and the sentence behind each line — is on our year. Today the same days, hours and sentences come out in those two files, pulled whenever somebody asks about a week in March.

Reports and the office →

Do you integrate with QuickBooks, Sage or Foundation?

No, and it is not on the list.

A named connector is a promise about somebody else's software that has to hold for years, through their releases, not ours. What you get instead is a documented, stable file — a promise that is good on the first day and the thousandth.

Reports and the office →

What does an export actually come out as?

Photos as files, full size, with the man and the job beside them. Hours as CSV and XLSX. Documents as the original file, byte for byte. Plans and reports as PDFs. The conversation as text.

Nothing comes out in a format that only opens in our software, because a record you need us to read is not yours.

Your records →

Who owns the photos and the documents?

You do, and the test of that sentence is whether you can leave with them. You can, any day, whole, in one action, without asking. Cancel and keep every bit of it. Nobody has ever been charged to hold on to their own record here and nobody is going to be.

Your records →

Is the export going to be a fight on the way out?

No. Export is a button on an ordinary Tuesday, not a wind-down step and not a support request. A cancelled account can still export. An account thirty days past due can still export. If that button ever needs a human being at Torspan to press something first, that is a defect and it gets fixed.

If Torspan stops →

We're on the GC's Procore. Do we have to drop it?

No. Procore belongs to the general contractor and your submittals still go where he says they go — his own pricing page includes "all other collaborators like clients, subcontractors, and vendors" at no cost to you, and giving that up would be a strange thing to buy.

This is the sub's own record: your men's hours, your photos, your pre-task plans, your answers off your own set. Two different jobs. Neither one needs the other to be turned off.

Quoted from procore.com/pricing, checked 22 August 2026.

Can we fix a wrong entry? Is there an approval step?

Yes to both. The foreman confirms the week before it goes to the office — and confirming is not correcting. He is agreeing that what his men said is what happened, and the record still carries their words, not his.

A correction creates a new version with a new time on it. The old one is not overwritten, and the file you already sent to somebody is not rewritten behind their back.

Hours →

Does the office work on a computer, or is this a phone thing?

Desktop for the office, a small iPad for the foreman in the truck, a phone for everybody. Same records, same rules, same words — a different size of screen, not a different product with fewer answers on it.

The app →

Do you have SOC 2?

No. What is published instead is the scope: what is kept and for how long, which roles can open your record and under what rule, what the assistant is allowed to read, and what happens to all of it if Torspan stops.

All of that is written out on Your records, in the terms it is held to. If an audit is done, the date and the scope go on the page — the scope, because the scope is the part that tells you what was looked at.

Your records →

Where does our data live, and whose computers does it pass through?

Every company's records are scoped to that company, and a query is scoped before the model is ever called — not filtered afterward.

The vendors involved are named on one page, each with the one clause of what it touches. The model provider gets the text of a message and a page of a document for as long as it takes to answer, and keeps none of it.

Whose computers it passes through →

Do you train on our jobs?

No. Not sold, not shared, not used to train anything that touches anybody else's job — and that is in the contract, not only on this page.

Do not take the sentence on faith. Open the terms and search them for the word training. That takes ten seconds and it is worth more than this paragraph.

Your records →

What the owner asks.

What does it cost?

$400 a month for a crew — a foreman and whoever works for him, however many that turns out to be. $1,500 a month for the whole shop up to eighty hands, then $300 for every twenty over that.

You pay whichever of the first two is less. Nothing is per seat, per login, per photo, per sheet, per report or per export. The whole price list is three lines and it is on the page, not behind a form.

What it costs →

Is there a free trial?

No. Setting a shop up takes a person, so a self-serve trial would be a button that quietly fails. Offering one would be the first thing on this site we couldn't back.

What there is instead: the first month has no invoice. Fourteen days is the category's number and fourteen days does not contain a payroll close. A month contains four payroll weeks, a safety walk, a delivery that showed up wrong and at least one argument about hours. That is the test.

The terms →

Why is there no signup button on this site?

Setup is done by hand and it is included in the price — your jobs, your crews, your drawings loaded, your payroll columns named the way your bookkeeper names them. It takes about a week, and most of that week is Torspan's, not yours.

What it costs →

What if I hate it?

Write one sentence to admin@torspan.com. Billing stops at the end of that month, and there is no notice period, no retention call, no exit survey, nothing to sign and nothing to return. Your export stays open and it stays free.

The exit, and the actual email →

What happens if I stop paying?

You get an email from a person. The account goes read-only, not dark — you can still open everything and still export everything. Nobody's safety file gets held over an invoice.

Your records →

Will this hold up when somebody asks me to prove it?

Nobody here gets to tell you what an inspector, an attorney or a GC will accept. Anybody who does is selling you something.

What can be said is what is in it. The hours, with the sentence each one came from and the man who submitted it. The pre-task plan, with the men who acknowledged it and the minute they did. The photo, with the day and the man and his own words as the caption. The answer, with the sheet, the revision and the date it came off. All of it kept, none of it rewritten later, and all of it exportable by you without asking us.

For owners →

Does this keep us square with L&I?

No software does that, and a page that says otherwise is one you should close.

Here is the actual shape of it. Washington requires a written accident prevention program, and crew-leader safety meetings at the start of each job and at least weekly after that, with the attendance and the subjects documented and the minutes retained a year (WAC 296-155-110). Federal rule requires each employee to be instructed in recognizing and avoiding the hazards of his own work (29 CFR 1926.21(b)(2)).

This makes those documents out of what your crew already said, one per man, and keeps them past the date the rule stops caring. Whether your program satisfies your inspector is between you, him and your program.

Safety paperwork →

Can the record be used against me?

Yes. Anybody who tells you different is describing a record somebody can edit, and a record somebody can edit is worth nothing on the day you need it.

If your crew said the plan didn't get made that morning, that is in there. If a man wrote that the material showed up wrong on the ninth, that is in there on the ninth. Nobody at Torspan can quietly move a line to make your year read better, and you should not want a vendor who could — because the same ability, in the same hands, is what would make the rest of it worthless.

That is the trade. The completeness that can contradict you is the only reason the file is worth producing at all.

Your records →

What are you not building?

Accounting, estimating, bidding, change orders, scheduling, project management, invoicing. Certified payroll, prevailing wage determinations, union fringe calculations, job costing. Service dispatch — ten addresses a day is somebody else's product and it is a good one. OSHA log management. Lien calendars. Anything that tracks where a man is.

That list is not a roadmap with the dates rubbed off. It is the list of things this will not become.

What it won't do →

What is this going to cost me in two years?

Your number is locked for twenty-four months. If it changes after that, you hear it ninety days ahead in an email from Torspan with the new number written in the email — not a link back to a page that has quietly changed.

Adding people never moves it. Nothing on the pricing page is an intro rate that expires, and there is no discount for signing longer, which means there is no penalty for staying free.

The terms →

Is my shop too small for this?

Under five hands, yes. Four hundred a month across three guys is a hundred and thirty-three apiece, and at that size the foreman already knows what everybody did today because he was standing next to them.

If you run a JATC or an apprenticeship program, it costs nothing. Write and say that is what you are.

Who shouldn't buy this →

What people ask about us.

How do I check any of this without talking to you?

Judge it on the things you can check in an afternoon: the price is on the page, the limits are on a page of their own with a date on them, the statutes are named with their numbers, the export is a button, this site loads with no third-party script on it, the filing is in a state registry that takes thirty seconds, and the address at the bottom is answered in writing by the end of the next business day.

Torspan does not publish logo walls, testimonials, star ratings, badges or case studies.

Company →

What happens to my records if Torspan stops?

It gets a procedure instead of a reassurance, because "we're not going anywhere" is the sentence companies say on the way somewhere.

Export is a button on an ordinary day, never a favor and never gated behind a paid-up balance. If Torspan stops, every account is told ninety days before anything changes, by email, to every address on it. Every account gets a full export built for it whether or not anybody asks — a link, and on request, physical media in the mail, so nobody has to be paying attention on the right week to keep his own records. The record then stays readable for twelve months: read-only, sign-in still works, export still works.

And there is a written instruction, held with the company's records, that names who carries it out. It does not depend on anyone at Torspan being reachable.

If Torspan stops →

What if you sell the company?

A sale is the one event where a promise on a website is worth the least, so here is the mechanical part instead: those terms are in the contract, and they can be changed for a new customer but not for an existing one.

The real protection is not a paragraph. It is that your export works today, it costs nothing, and the files it produces open without us. The right way to size up a vendor is not to ask whether it will last. It is to ask what you are holding on the day it doesn't.

Your records →

Am I going to end up talking to a queue?

There is no queue, no tier and no success manager. You get an answer from the person who can change the thing you're asking about, and the contact page publishes the interval: read the same day, answered in writing by the end of the next business day.

If the volume ever passes what can be answered in a day, the fix is to change that sentence on the page. It is not to install a bot with a first name.

Contact →

How much of what's on this site exists today?

This site is written in the present tense of the product as it will be inside about a year. That is the honest way to describe something under construction and a dishonest way to describe it if you stop there. So it does not stop there: What it won't do carries a dated block that says what is running right now, in plain language, with the date on it, and it gets updated when the date stops being true.

If you only read two pages here, read that one and the price.

What's live today →

Why should I believe any of this?

Not on the strength of the writing. Anybody can write.

Every claim on this site is one of two kinds. Either you can check it yourself in a minute — the price, the limits, the statute numbers, the street address, the fact that there is no tracking script on this page — or you can hold somebody to it in writing, which means the contract, not the page. The retention periods, the export, the ninety days and the twelve months are all in the contract. That is the difference between a commitment and a paragraph.

Anything that is neither of those is marketing, and it should not be on here. If you find some, write and say where.

Contact →

Where does the name come from?

Nowhere interesting. It was a short word nobody else had. There is no story in it and we are not going to invent one for a website.

Did you write these questions yourselves?

Yes. They are the questions that come up when you explain this to somebody in the trade, plus the ones we argued about with each other.

The uncomfortable ones are on the page on purpose. An FAQ that only asks what the seller wants asked is an advertisement with question marks in it, and everybody can tell.

If yours is not on here, send it to admin@torspan.com and it goes up with an answer — including, when it is the true one, "we don't know yet."

Contact →

Still something missing.

There is no form on this page and no chat window in the corner. One address, read the same day.

admin@torspan.com

If the answer you needed isn't here, it goes to a person, not a queue, and there's no form in front of him → Contact
The one that decides everything else: what this refuses to do, and what's actually running today, with a date on it → What it won't do