Most solo pricing pages fail on the same four things, and none of them is the number. They fail on whether a visitor can tell which plan is theirs.
Your pricing page is where an interested visitor decides. Most solo SaaS pricing pages fail on the same four things, and none of them is the number — they fail on whether a visitor can tell which plan is for them within about ten seconds.
This page is about the page. For choosing the number, start with the pricing framework.
"Contact us" works when you have a sales team and a long cycle. For a solo product it removes the only buying motion you can actually service, and most visitors will not email a stranger to find out whether they can afford something.
The instinct behind hiding it is usually uncertainty about whether the number is right. That is a pricing problem being solved with a design decision, and it makes the pricing problem harder to diagnose because you never see how people respond.
If you are unsure about the number itself, the pricing framework covers which method should set it, and pricing before launch covers the zero-customer case.
Starter, Professional and Enterprise tell a visitor nothing. They have to work out which one they are, and every second of that is a chance to leave.
Plan names that describe the buyer do the work instead: "For solo therapists", "For practices with 2–5 staff". The visitor recognises themselves immediately, and recognition is what converts.
This connects directly to whether your tiers are real. If you cannot describe who each tier is for in a sentence, you have one product at three prices — tier packaging covers fixing that before you redesign the page.
The difference between tiers should be readable in a single line each. A twenty-row feature matrix is a sign that the tiers were built from features rather than from segments.
Feature matrices have a second cost: they invite comparison shopping within your own page. A visitor who was ready to buy the middle tier starts wondering whether the cheap one would do, and often talks themselves down.
Lead with the one thing that changes — usage volume, number of people, or a capability. Put the full detail below the fold for the minority who want it.
Every self-serve buyer has the same three questions and most pricing pages answer none of them.
| Unspoken question | What to put on the page |
|---|---|
| What if I want to cancel? | "Cancel anytime, one click" — stated plainly |
| What happens to my data? | Export available, retained for a stated period |
| What if I hit the limit? | What actually happens — upgrade prompt, not a lockout |
These belong near the buttons rather than in a footer FAQ. They are the objections that stop the click, and answering them costs three lines.
Show both, default the toggle to annual, and state the saving as a number rather than a percentage — "two months free" lands harder than "17% off".
Do not hide monthly. Forcing annual on a first purchase raises the perceived risk for exactly the cautious buyer your page is trying to reassure. Launching annual plans covers the mechanics and when it is worth doing.
Watch what visitors do rather than what the page says. If most people land on pricing and leave without scrolling, the problem is upstream — they arrived unconvinced, and that is positioning rather than pricing-page design.
A free tier competing with the paid one. If the free plan does the job for most people, the pricing page cannot rescue it — see freemium versus free trial.
Three tiers before you have three segments. Invented tiers produce a middle option nobody chooses.
A social-proof section with no social proof. Empty logo strips or invented testimonials do more damage than leaving the space out. If you have four happy customers, quote one of them by name with permission.
Testing the page before the offer is right. Rearranging a pricing page whose underlying tiers do not match real segments is optimisation without a foundation.
In order: show the price if it is hidden, rename the plans after the people who buy them, cut the feature matrix to one line per tier, then add the three objection answers.
Those four changes take an afternoon and cover most of what a solo pricing page gets wrong. If conversion is still poor afterwards, the problem is not the page — check trial-to-paid conversion and why signups do not convert.
Yes. 'Contact us' works with a sales team and a long cycle, but for a solo product it removes the only buying motion you can service. Hiding the price is usually uncertainty about the number being solved with a design decision.
After the person who buys them rather than a generic label. 'For solo therapists' beats 'Starter' because the visitor recognises themselves immediately. If you cannot describe who each tier is for in a sentence, the tiers themselves are the problem.
Only below the fold. The difference between tiers should be readable in one line each. A long matrix signals the tiers were built from features rather than segments, and it invites visitors to talk themselves down to a cheaper plan.
Three unspoken questions, near the buttons: what happens if I cancel, what happens to my data, and what happens if I hit the limit. These are the objections that stop the click and answering them takes three lines.
Show both and default the toggle to annual, stating the saving as a number — 'two months free' lands harder than a percentage. Do not hide monthly, because forcing annual on a first purchase raises perceived risk for cautious buyers.
Describe your tiers and who buys each. Marcus names the one change worth making before any redesign.
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