More from On Test Automation
This post was previously published through my newsletter on May 25, 2026. From time to time, I will republish newsletter issues on my blog here if I think people (and search engines) might benefit from it. If you want to read everything I’ve written once it is posted, I recommend signing up for the newsletter. A few months ago, I had the pleasure of delivering a keynote at an internal developer conference for one of the largest banks in the Netherlands. While I still don’t really see myself as a keynote speaker - I enjoy doing practical, hands-on sessions much more - I had a great time talking about challenges of E2E testing, breaking down E2E tests and the test automation quadrant model that I use in my thinking, speaking and teaching about test automation these days. However, the keynote or the contents of it are not what I want to talk about this week. Instead, it was a question that came up during the Q&A after the talk that triggered me to write this post. That question was “Do you think that testers should be writing unit tests?” It’s not the first time I heard that question. In fact, I’ve seen and heard whether or not testers should be involved in unit testing being discussed regularly in the past, with arguments for and against the various standpoints. However, I was under the impression that we, collectively, had found some sort of answer to the question and moved past this point by now. Guess I was mistaken. I tried to give the person asking the question an answer as well as I could, but given that there is quite a bit to unpack around the topic, I’m not sure if I gave them the entire story. So, that’s what I’ll try and do here. Who knows they might even read it… So, should testers be writing unit tests? Well, my answer is either a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, depending on how you interpret the question. Before we explore these various interpretations, what is a unit test anyway? Well, by now, I don’t really know anymore, as there are so many definitions floating around, some of them contradicting each other. This is one of the reasons I came up with the test automation quadrant model as an alternative to the well-known automation pyramid model, but again, that’s not the topic of this post. For the sake of the argument, let’s define a unit test as a test that verifies a very small piece of behaviour of our product, without relying on external interfaces like APIs, databases or file systems, for example. With that definition in place, let’s look at two different interpretations of the question of ‘should testers be writing unit tests?’. Interpretation 1: Testers should be responsible for unit testing Well, no, I don’t think they should, no matter how good of a tester they are, and no matter what their coding skills are. Writing unit tests is an activity that should be performed in support of and lockstep with software development. Often, especially in practices like test-driven development, tests are written first, and they drive the design and development of the product. Leaving the writing of these tests to testers, especially if it is done after the product code itself is written, is both inefficient and a potential source of problems. Inefficient, because the product has already been written, yet we only know whether its behaviour matches expectations once the tests are written and run. Also, because there’s a handoff happening between ‘development’ and ‘testing’, which takes up valuable time as the developer will switch to a different task while the tester writes the unit tests. If there’s a problem with the product that is discovered during unit testing, the developer needs to make a context switch back to the original task, and the more context switching you do during the day, the less efficiently you will work and the less you will get done. A potential source of problems, because when the developer only focuses on shipping a potentially working product, they will likely not spend too much time thinking about what to test for, or how to make the product (the code, in this case) easily testable in the first place. Also, the handoff from ‘development’ to ‘test’ I described before leaves open room for different interpretations of what the software should do, leading to potential bugs slipping through and the resulting back-and-forth discussions after the fact. So, no, I don’t think we should leave unit testing to testers. I still sometimes hear about developer who don’t want to or do not know how to write (decent) unit tests, and I think that’s a problem that needs to be fixed at the source, instead of trying to patch it up by someone else writing the unit tests for the already-created product. Interpretation 2: testers should be involved in unit testing If we interpret the question this way, I think the answer should be a resounding ‘yes’, testers should be involved in unit testing. I mean, there’s the word ‘testing’ in the name, why shouldn’t we involve the people who specialize in testing in the process? What that involvement looks like, exactly, depends on the context, of course. Again, ‘being involved’ and ‘being responsible’ are two entirely different things. While I believe that writing unit tests is a development activity, there are a couple of ways in which testers can add value, too: They can review the unit tests to learn about what has been covered already, so that they do not repeat that testing later on They can review the unit tests to identify what has not yet been covered, and either give that back as feedback to a developer, or add the missing tests themselves They can suggest and use techniques like mutation testing to test the tests and find out whether the tests that were written before are actually able to catch meaningful problems I’m sure there are a few more benefits, but these alone should, in my opinion, be enough for any team to not exclude testers from the process of writing unit tests from here on. And yes, that will require some additional skills from both testers and developers. This is where the power of collaboration comes in. I’m a big fan of pair programming and testing, and I’ve seen a lot of good things come from testers and developers pairing up to write, review and improve unit tests. The developer improves their testing skills, the tester learns more about both the product they’re testing and the development process, and in the end, both the entire team and the product itself reaps the benefits. That’s a long answer to a simple question, and I’m sure there are some nuances that I didn’t yet unpack, but generally speaking, these are my views on the question of whether testers should be writing unit tests. Oh, and before you ask ‘but what about integration / end-to-end / performance / security / … tests’? That’s easy. Simply replace ‘unit tests’ and ‘unit testing’ with ‘integration / end-to-end / performance / security / … tests’ and ‘… testing’, and you’ll have my answer. I’ve always found it a little strange that unit tests have traditionally been seen as ‘different’ from other types of tests, as if they’re some kind of special artefact that only developers know how to write. If that’s what you think, too, let me let you in on a little secret: they aren’t special. Unit tests are simply tests that test a small piece of the behaviour of the product that we write, written against and invoking a specific interface of the product: the source code. Other types of tests do exactly the same thing: verify parts of our product behaviour by invoking one or more specific interfaces (APIs, the UI, a database, a queue, …). They just have a different scope, and with that, they verify behaviour at a different scope. That’s all. This, again, is the reason where I think the traditional test automation pyramid model lacks: I really don’t care that much about what is a unit / integration / end-to-end test. All I really care about is tests that produce valuable information about the state and the behaviour of our product in as efficient a way as possible. Unit tests really aren’t any different.
Just a quick update to let those of you who bookmarked this blog or who have subscribed to my RSS feed know that I have (re-)started a newsletter. Why a newsletter? As you might know (or not), while I’ve been pretty active on LinkedIn over the years, I do have a love-hate (or rather an appreciate-hate) relationship with that platform. Lately, I’ve been noticing that the pendulum is swinging in the ‘hate’ direction more often, mainly because the ever-changing algorithm used by LinkedIn makes it incredibly hard to predict if people are even going to see what I write. I’d rather publish my thoughts, ideas and other ramblings via a platform that I do control, and that platform will be a newsletter. I’ve had a newsletter in the past, but that only lived for about three months. This time, I intend to keep writing and publishing a new issue every week. The first edition goes out a few hours after I’m writing this, and a new issue will be sent to subscribers every Monday morning around 11 AM CET. But what about the blog? I’ll still publish to the blog, too, but that will be on a much less regular basis. Just like it has been for a while, really. The idea is to post the more ‘technical’ posts, that is, the ones including code, directly to my blog, whereas the ‘text-and-images-only’ posts go through my blog post first. My priority is with the newsletter, though. How to subscribe That’s easy, just go to the subscription page, leave your email address, click the button on the confirmation email and you’re in. I promise I won’t use the newsletter or your email to spam or sell to you. Ever.
In a recent post, I wrote about how I used Claude Code to analyze the code for RestAssured.Net and then perform a refactoring action, using hand-written tests as the safety net. In that post, I wrote that I didn’t want Claude to touch the tests themselves, and why. I was still curious, though, to find out for myself what Claude was capable of in terms of writing tests. In this blog post, I’ll share with you some first steps in doing exactly that, and you’ll read about my thoughts and my thought process along the way. You’ll see how I create an initial suite of tests for a small Spring Boot-based API that I wrote for use in my workshops, and how I think about and assess the results. In a follow-up blog post, I’ll show you how I improved the test suite based on my findings, again using Claude Code. The starting point As a starting point, I created a new repository containing the code for the API I use in my mutation testing workshop. I removed the existing tests, as we’re going to ask Claude to generate these for us. I also removed the README and the GitHub Actions build pipeline definition, as I want Claude to write tests based only on the product code itself, without being primed by other artifacts in the codebase. The only thing I left in are the dependencies used to write and run the tests, in this case REST Assured and JUnit. After installing and initializing Claude, I gave it a first prompt: “Add acceptance tests for the endpoints exposed by the AccountController to this project. Cover all the logic in the AccountService class. Use REST Assured as the tool to interact with the API. Use JUnit 5 as the test runner. Both libraries are already part of the project, see the pom.xml. Assert status codes and relevant response body elements as part of the tests. Extract common request properties into a RequestSpecification.” After some deliberation, Claude added a new test file to the project, containing 23 tests, all of them passing. You can see these tests here. What you’re seeing in this file is the raw output from the above prompt, I haven’t changed anything in there. It took Claude only a minute or two to write these tests, which definitely is a lot faster than what I could have done myself. But how good are they, really? A first look at the tests Let’s look at the quality of the code first. I’m seeing people argue that code quality is not really all that important anymore once AI will write most of our code, but I beg to differ, especially when it concerns our tests. Tests are documentation of the intended behaviour of our code, and I would say that being able to read that documentation as a human being, without too much effort, remains very important. So, is our code easy to read? There’s a @BeforeEach hook creating the RequestSpecification (an object in REST Assured containing shared HTTP request properties). There’s a helper method to create a new account passing in the AccountType and a predefined balance. There’s the aforementioned 23 tests that, especially at first glance, seem to verify things that are valuable. What Claude did not do, probably because I didn’t explicitly ask for it, is add an abstraction layer to make the code easier to read, such as the one described here. We’ll see how Claude does in this area in the next blog post, as I want to stick to assessing the quality of the initial output from Claude in this one. And I have to say, all in all, for a first try, I’m not unhappy with what I’m seeing. Yes, there’s room for improvement, but I have seen humans do far worse than this. The tests seem to cover all endpoints defined in the API controller, and most paths in the business logic defined in the service layer. I should note here that I was able to fairly quickly come to this conclusion only because: I wrote the code for the API, so I have knowledge of the inner workings and the intent of the API, and I have plenty of experience writing tests for APIs and writing tests in REST Assured, so I’d like to think I know what ‘good’ looks like If you don’t have that prior knowledge and experience, it will be harder to draw meaningful conclusions from just looking at what Claude coughs up. And there’s a significant risk there: the risk of saying ‘looks good to me’ without actually understanding what you’re approving, and then ending up with a safety net of tests that is riddled with holes. Testing the generated tests with mutation testing To further increase our understanding of the value of the tests that were generated for me, let’s see if these tests can fail. If they can’t, the fact that we have generated 23 passing tests in two minutes flat is nothing more than an example of productivity theater. To check if our tests can actually fail, let’s use a mutation testing tool to scrutinize our tests a little more. In this case, because we’re working with Java code, I’ll use PITest as my mutation testing tool of choice. I configured the tool to mutate all the code in the project and run all the tests, to get a complete overview of the quality of the test suite generated. Note that in a real life-sized project, you probably want to start by mutating only part of the code base and run part of the tests to get mutation testing feedback within a reasonable amount of time. After about a minute, PITest reports back that the initial test suite achieves 95% line coverage. This looks impressive, but it doesn’t really tell me anything. The much more valuable metric here is the number of mutants that were killed by the test suite. PITest reports that this is 91%, which, again is pretty good. In absolute numbers, out of 55 mutants generated by PITest, 50 were detected by the initial test suite. Two follow-up questions arise immediately: Which mutants were missed by the tests, and what is the impact of that? Could we have achieved the same amount of (line and mutation) coverage with fewer tests? In other words, do we have tests that are dead weight? Looking at the surviving mutants First, let’s have a look at the mutants that survived, i.e., changes in the API code that were not detected by any of the tests. To start, in the CustomizedResponseEntityExceptionHandler, the HTTP 500 path isn’t covered in any of the tests, and that causes a surviving mutant. By design, the API returns an HTTP 500 when an Exception occurs that isn’t a ResourceNotFoundException (returning an HTTP 404) or a BadRequestException (returning an HTTP 400). This looks like a useful path to cover in a test. Second, the API returns an HTTP 204 in response to a GET call to /accounts when there are no accounts in the database. That path isn’t covered in the tests. This, too, seems like a useful path to test, because it is intentional API behaviour. Finally, the tests that were written do not properly cover some of the boundary values, both in the logic that implements the business rule of ‘you cannot overdraw on a savings account’ and in the interest calculation logic. Once more, I would like to have these situations covered by tests. Coincidentally (or maybe not?), these are all cases that I cover in my mutation testing workshop, too. This, to me, indicates that mutation testing is a powerful way to assess what is tested and what isn’t, no matter if you wrote the tests or you had them write by an LLM. I’m also happy to see that I’m probably covering the right things in my workshop. Note: I can confidently and quickly perform this analysis of the signals produced by PITest, and of the quality of my tests, because I know that mutation testing as a technique exists, and because I know how it works. Most importantly, I’m motivated / I feel like I am morally obliged to do so, because I deeply value writing tests that test meaningful things and that are actually able to detect changes in product behaviour. If all I cared about was having some tests to cover the API and declared, for example, 90% line coverage as ‘good enough’, I would be done by now. However, I don’t. In the next blog post, I want to return this feedback to Claude and see how well it does in updating the existing test suite based on my observations. I also want to see if I can add mutation testing to the test generation loop, and have Claude achieve better mutation coverage without my interfering. For now, I’ll conclude that when I ask Claude to generate tests in the way I have done, it produces pretty good results in terms of both line and mutation coverage, but that it missed certain key paths in my application code. Identifying dead weight in our test suite As a next step, I want to find out if the test suite that was generated by Claude contains dead weight, that is, do we have any tests that do not uniquely contribute to either line or mutation coverage? To do so, I asked PITest to generate a report in XML format next to the HTML report, as (for some reason) only the XML report contains information about which test killed a specific mutant. Performing this analysis required a bit of elbow grease, as I had to manually search the XML test report for occurrences of the test name for every test in the test suite. This, too, is probably a process that can be automated, but for now, I’m OK with doing this the manual way, since there’s only 23 tests in the suite anyway. This search tells me that four tests that were generated by Claude did were not mentioned as a test killing a mutant in the results file. In all four cases, the reason behind this is that the exact same code path is exercised in another test. For example, one of the tests performs a withdrawal on a checking account and verifies that the balance is updated accordingly: @Test void withdraw_positiveAmount_fromCheckingAccount_updatesBalance() { long id = createAccount(AccountType.CHECKING, 500.0); given(requestSpec) .post("/{id}/withdraw/{amount}", id, 200.0) .then() .statusCode(200) .body("balance", equalTo(300.0f)); } The next test in the suite, however, does the exact same thing for a savings account: @Test void withdraw_positiveAmount_fromSavingsAccount_withSufficientFunds_updatesBalance() { long id = createAccount(AccountType.SAVINGS, 500.0); given(requestSpec) .post("/{id}/withdraw/{amount}", id, 200.0) .then() .statusCode(200) .body("balance", equalTo(300.0f)); } After removing these four tests from the suite and running mutation testing again, as expected, I can see that the impact on both line and mutation coverage is 0, meaning that these four tests can indeed be classified as ‘dead weight’. Conclusions So, after completing the analysis of the results of asking Claude Code to generate tests for a new code base, what do I think? Well, while I am impressed, I think a couple of words of warning are in order. I am positively surprised by the quality and the coverage of the initial test suite. 95% line coverage and 91% mutation coverage are good numbers, and all that coverage was generated in a few minutes, definitely a lot less time than it would have taken me to write these tests myself. There is some room for improvement in terms of readability of the tests, but that can probably be resolved by being more specific in my prompt and / or using dedicated Claude Code skills. I’ll explore and write about that soon. While Claude achieved a pretty decent mutation coverage, it did oversee a few critical paths in the code. Maybe I was simply ‘unlucky’, and another attempt with the same prompt would have given better results. I don’t know, but it does tell me not to simply accept what Claude gives me at face value. The same applies to the tests that Claude did generate. 4 out of the 23 tests generated were dead weight, which equates to 17% of the test suite. Now, n = 1, and this is a small codebase and test suite, so the numbers might be skewed, but again, if you want your test suite to be as efficient and effective as possible, these are numbers that you probably don’t want to ignore. Finally, there are of course many things that Claude did not do, mainly because I didn’t ask it to. An example of that would be telling me that since we’re working with a banking API, it probably would be a good idea to add some form of authentication to the endpoints. There’s a lot more to unpack about what Claude does and does not do, and I will probably write about that in more detail in another blog post, but not here. First, in a follow-up blog post, I’ll document the process of improving the existing test suite that Claude generated, both in terms of coverage and of coding style. I will once again be using Claude and mutation testing to do that. The code for the API that was used in this blog post, as well as the initial suite of tests generated by Claude, can be found here.
About six weeks ago, I decided to take some time away from LinkedIn. I won’t go into the reasons behind this decision again, you can read all about that in the post I just linked to, but I do want to take some time and look back on the past six weeks and the things that not spending so much time on LinkedIn have brought me. First of all, moving away from spending an hour or two on LinkedIn wasn’t as easy as I thought. Especially early on, thoughts of ‘am I missing something?’ were in my head pretty much all the time, and yes, that led to me logging in and checking to see whether there was something I needed to address - DMs to answer, invites to accept - a few times. After a few weeks, though, and after seeing that there wasn’t much of importance, or really anything at all, that I missed, that feeling slowly faded. It’s still there, sometimes, but I don’t feel the ‘need’ (it’s more of a ‘want’, really) to log in as often as I did in the beginning. When I started my break, I was hoping for several positive side effects. It’s still early, too early to draw conclusions, but so far, things are looking pretty good: The contents for my brand new ‘Valuable Feedback, Fast’ course is coming together slowly but surely, and I’ve got 3-4 companies interested in booking me to deliver this course in 2026, with one of them confirmed. My target is to deliver it at least three times in 2026, so things are looking good. My training business is off to a good start, too, with 5 full days of training already delivered in January. I was off to a much slower start in 2025, so this makes me happy. I’m also working on different ways to bring my training offerings to the attention of potential clients. One thing I’m thinking about is starting a YouTube channel with instructional videos, to give people an idea of my teaching style and the type of content they can expect when they book me to teach a course. I’ve already published 4 blog posts, including this one, where I only wrote 13 in all of 2025. I really hope to keep up this pace. I’ve definitely been reading more, too. Mostly fiction, including the fantastic Winter’s Bone by Daniel Woodrell, but I’m also slowly working my way through Taking Testing Seriously by James Back and Michael Bolton. Outside of work, I’m definitely taking my cycling much more seriously. Even though January wasn’t the best cycling month, because of snow, the flu and some other things that got in the way, I have a training plan in place, I have set some ambitious but not-too-crazy goals, and I hope those will lead to my first century as well as my first 200k and even a 300k before the end of the year. Because of that last bullet point, and especially the time that training for long-distance cycling events takes, I have decided to pretty much entirely focus on my training business in 2026, as that is simply more flexible than consulting. This doesn’t mean I will not take on any consulting gigs at all, but the ones that I do will be of a very part-time nature. I don’t want to do all the cycling I want to do in the evenings and weekends only, if only because there’s no better feeling than going for a long bike ride at a time you know most other people are in the office ;) Needless to say, I’ll remain absent from LinkedIn for the foreseeable future. Yes, I might log in once every other week to quickly check DMs and invites. You might see a very occasional post from me promoting my training services, but that will be once a month, tops, and probably even less than that. I have zero interest at the moment in getting back to regular posting, commenting, sharing and liking. My brain relishes the quiet, the absence of that background noise that was present when I was spending a lot of time on LinkedIn. Plus, it has given me the time and attention it needs to do more valuable things, and I’m not ready to give that up again. Don’t expect me to write an update like this every month, either. As the months go by, I’ll probably think about LinkedIn even less, especially now that I’ve seen that I’m not really missing out on a lot. As I said before, email is a much better way to get or stay in touch, so if you have a question, something to share, or you just want to catch up, email me at [email protected], and I’ll happily talk to you. I’ve had some great conversations already, and I’m looking for many more of those.
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Today we are releasing the version 1.0 of Lexxy. Lexxy is a rich text editor for Rails built on Lexical. It already powers Basecamp, Fizzy and many others, and it will become the default editor in Rails. I recently presented it in Rails World (slides, video coming soon). This is the article version of my talk. Trix hit a wall Trix has been our editor since 2015, and every Rails app’s editor since Action Text shipped in Rails 6. It’s small and reliable, and it has served millions of people for a decade. But in the last few years our customers kept asking for features like tables or code highlighting, and we kept struggling to deliver them. The reason is the Trix document model. A Trix document is a flat list of blocks. A block is a line of text with some labels attached, like quote, bullet list, bullet. There is no tree, and a block can never contain another block. Nesting is an illusion: at render time, adjacent blocks with the same labels get wrapped together. A flat list of blocks with very limited extensibility options That design bought a lot of simplicity, but you can’t express something like a table with it. Two cells next to each other would carry exactly the same labels, so Trix would merge them into one. The model can say “this bullet is one level deeper”. It cannot say “this cell is different from the cell next to it”. A tables issue has been opened since 2015! The model just can’t do it. The second problem was maintenance. An editor built on contenteditable behaves differently in every browser and even changes from time with operating system releases. In 2024, three iOS releases in a row broke typing, dictation or the caret in Trix, and each one cost us real effort to work around. Check this one as an example. Why Lexical This was a conversation we had at 37signals for years: 2022. We started a project to add tables to Trix. We gave up after a week. The document model can’t represent two-dimensional things. 2023. I built a proof of concept with Tiptap inside HEY. We liked it, but we never started a serious project with it. 2024. We built House, our own Markdown editor, for Writebook. Not WYSIWYG, but WYSIWYM: what you see is what you mean. A wonderful editor for long-form writing like books or technical documentation. 2025. We tried House in another product, and it didn’t fit. For most apps, WYSIWYG was just the right answer. 2025. We had the discussion again, and this time we looked at the whole field. Four years of the same conversation David ruled out Tiptap, CKEditor and the other commercial editors: an open source core with features kept proprietary, and a sales team behind them. We didn’t want our editor to depend on somebody else’s licensing decisions. Then we found Lexical: MIT, from Meta, and very powerful. I spent two weeks evaluating it, and in May we made the call to go with it. A tiny core. Pick the rest. Lexical’s core has zero dependencies and weighs forty-two kilobytes. In a way, it validates the approach that Trix pioneered. The document is an immutable state you never mutate directly, you just get new snapshots when performing updates; contenteditable is an input device and a rendering surface, never the source of truth. It has a DOM reconciler to update the actual DOM very efficiently, and other primitives to deal with handling commands and node transformations. Everything else, from lists to tables to markdown, is a package in the orbit. Lexxy uses thirteen of them. Lexical solved the maintenance problem too. Meta’s products like Facebook or Instagram use Lexical and their user count is in the hundreds of millions. This means that even small issues with new keyboards and devices are fixed fast by the dedicated Meta team that maintains it. Furthermore, Meta’s business is the products, not the editor. We much rather liked this structure of incentives for the long-term investment an editor represents. The iceberg The plan was simple. Pick Lexical, wire it up to Action Text, add a toolbar and ship it. Well, it didn’t go exactly like that. What you envision, and what's under the water Lexxy today is thirteen thousand lines of vanilla JavaScript on top of Lexical. A great editing experience is very hard to get right. An editor is a machine where the user can change the state in a thousand different ways. For example. you have two images one after the other and want to put the cursor between them, but there is nothing there to put a cursor in. Or somebody pastes from Google Docs, and you have to turn a pile of inline styles and empty spans into clean markup. And then Safari, and Android keyboards, and the clipboard, and undo, and… From the first pull request to Basecamp 5 The first pull request landed in May 2025. Fizzy launched with Lexxy in December, and Basecamp 5 in May this year. Basecamp was the real test: twenty years of content written with Trix, and people who use the editor all day, every day. Zoltán Hosszú and Samuel Péchèr were the key people who made this happen. The took a very green version of Lexxy, added a ton of features (including Tables) and polish, and they fixed countless bugs. They also pulled off a remarkable milestone: seamlessly switching millions of Basecamp users from Trix to Lexxy. What’s included? We didn’t want a to build Trix with tables. We had Lexical and we had agents to help, so we wanted to be ambitious here. We went for the whole package. Features In terms of major features: A color highlighter, built in instead of this being a custom Basecamp extension, as it was with Trix. Tables, with an interface we worked hard to keep simple and accessible. Markdown. You type it, you get rich text. Code blocks with syntax highlighting as you type, in more than twenty languages. Image galleries you can navigate and reorder with the keyboard. Prompts. Type a character, get a menu: mentions, emoji, or whatever your app needs. Links by pasting a URL over selected text. Previews of attachments like videos and PDFs, rendered as your app renders them. Action Text Native Lexxy is also Action Text native. Action Text stores attachments in a canonical format that Trix doesn’t speak, so it translates on save and again on render. We taught Lexxy to emit exactly that markup. What you see in the editor is what gets saved, and what gets saved is what your app renders. Your existing content, attachments and views keep working. That opened another door. Action Text now talks to an editor adapter, with an implementation for Trix and one for Lexxy, so switching is one line: config.action_text.editor = :lexxy. Here the credit goes to Sean Doyle, who started that pull request before Lexxy existed and took it to the finish line with our input. It ships with Rails 8.2, and we hope other editors will use it too. Extensibility And you can extend Lexxy. Extensions are built on Lexical’s own mechanism, and this is not a second-class API: Lexxy itself is thirteen extensions, tables included, and Basecamp has nine more. class MyExtension extends Lexxy.Extension { get enabled() { … } get allowedElements() { … } get lexicalExtension() { return this.defineExtension({ name: "my-extension", nodes: [ … ], register(editor) { … } }) } initializeToolbar(toolbar) { … } dispose() { … } } Lexxy.configure({ global: { extensions: [ MyExtension ] } }) My favorite of how extensible is Lexxy are voice notes in Basecamp: you record, you see the waveform while you talk, and it becomes a player inside the document. About a thousand lines, without forking or patching anything. Performance Lexxy is fast, because Lexical is fast. In a ten thousand word document, Trix takes thirty-eight milliseconds to process a keystroke. Lexxy takes four. Above fifty milliseconds, the editor starts feeling sluggish. Compared to Trix, Lexxy brought a whole new performance regime. Milliseconds per keystroke by document size Accessibility Accessibility in Trix was not great. In general, building accessible experiences for rich text editors built on top of contenteditable is quite hard. We had a dream team to help with Lexxy accessibility. Bruno Prieto worked with Michael Berger, our accessibility champion at 37signals, to bring the bar to where we wanted it to be. Bruno is an outstanding programmer who happens to be blind, so he knows one thing or two about accessibility, and he delivered. As a result, in Lexxy everything is reachable with the keyboard. The editor announces itself properly to screen readers, and it gets a thousand details right so that the editing experience using a screen reader is fantastic. You can learn more about accessibility in our docs. Security The latest AI models have resulted in an unprecedented explosion of vulnerabilities found, and we took this thread quite seriously. Lexxy counted with programmers of the caliber of Jeremy Daer and Mike Dalessio helping to make it more secure. We have put a lot of attention to sanitizing the editor contents, validating attachment URLs and making sure that the types of attachments and nodes the editor support are allow-listed. Lexxy also comes with preliminary Trusted Types support, to offer CSP-level control over certain DOM manipulation APIs. The trusted types policy is there, but we are not enforcing it everywhere yet. Agents We started Lexxy using Claude since day one. A main lesson was that an agent needs to drive the editor like a user does. The best decision we made in this project was moving the system tests from Capybara to Playwright: three browsers instead of one, a suite that runs in seconds, and a much more faithful clipboard, keyboard and focus. This represented a tremendous improvement in how agents could close the loop by themselves. Write a test, see it fail, fix it, see it pass. We have more than six hundred browser tests today. Moving the suite to Playwright changed how fast we could write tests With a solid testing foundation in place, we could start fixing bugs in large batches. As mentioned, getting a text editor right implies a ton of work, and the kind of backlog we got at some point would have have buried us in pre-agent times. We also used agents to validate the fixes: an agent reproduces the bug in the public Lexxy sandbox, checks that it’s gone with the branch applied, and labels the pull request. Agents were essential to get Lexxy done with the people and the deadlines we had: we are a small company, and the same people were shipping two products in parallel. 275 cards closed The new Rails default We believe Lexxy is the best rich text editor out there right now, and we are going to make it the default editor in Rails next. If you’re starting a Rails application today, use Lexxy. If you’re using Action Text with a standard configuration, switch. It’s one line, and we’ve worked hard to make it seamless.
Reading my recent computing retrospective, I realised there was a big section missing: the people in my life that made an impact and helped shape my career. Outside my immediate family, one person made an outsized contribution, and I’m fairly certain that without his influence my life would have taken a very different path. The fact that I’m still here in 2026, still writing code and being fortunate enough to have a career in something I love is testament to him. So I’d like to take a few moments to talk about my old secondary school teacher, George Dryden. Denied Back in 1995, I had a problem. I knew I wanted to study computing at university and build a career out of my passion, but there was a snag. For those unfamiliar with the UK schooling system, when you’re 15-16 you take a set of GCSE exams in a broad range of subjects. After that, you pick around 3 subjects to really focus on over a period of 2 years. These are called A Levels, and they are a big step up and are meant to prepare you for a degree-level course at university. Admission to university is also governed by these results - if you want to study computing, you’re going to need a computing A-Level, and most universities will only accept you (or “make an offer”) if you achieve a certain grade. And whilst I had taken computing at a GCSE level, my school did not offer a computing A-Level course. I instead had to settle on “Design & Technology”, which just didn’t inspire me. Instead of working on my portfolio and projects, I spent most of my time daydreaming and writing code on the Acorn Archimedes computers that were the staple of every 90s UK school. No disrespect to the teachers - they were all awesome - but it just wasn’t for me. I was miserable, and by the end of my first year, I was well on my way to failing outright with my entire future plans seemingly going up in smoke. Someone noticed That’s when George stepped in. He’d taught me computing right the way through my GCSEs, and with no A-Level course on offer, that was officially where his involvement was supposed to have ended. It didn’t. He had noticed my constant presence in the computing labs - before and after school, during lunch breaks, free “study” periods - working on some little pet project or digging into RISC OS internals. I remember him as warm, with a wicked, dry sense of humour, and a refreshingly spiky attitude to authority - I always got the sense he’d worked out for himself which rules were worth taking seriously and which ones weren’t. And he always had time for me. I spent years pestering him with questions that had nothing to do with anything on the syllabus, and he’d always find a way to answer them that actually made sense. He was just as supportive of my odd little obsessions. At one point I’d got deep into the BBS scene, which I thought was the coolest thing ever, and decided what the school really needed was an internal BBS running on its own network. So I wrote one. It was deeply cringeworthy, obviously - but George helped me put posters up around the school advertising it, and even gave it a mention in assembly one morning. I think about five people in total ever checked it out. It didn’t matter: a teacher had stood up in front of the entire school and treated my weird little project like it was worth something, and that was a hugely validating moment for me. Off the books He recognised the passion, and eventually he made a suggestion: What if I quit the Design and Technology course, and instead attempt the A-level course myself? Personally, I also suspect he was enjoying himself. There was some internal school politics behind why computing wasn’t offered at A-Level in the first place - I never knew the details - and I think the prospect of one of his students simply going out and getting the qualification anyway appealed to him on two separate levels. It would get me where I wanted to go, and it would wind up exactly the right people. It wouldn’t be easy, he warned. The school would be against it, plus it was a two-year course which I’d have to cram into one year. I’d have to do it all myself - studying, lesson planning, coursework - he couldn’t help me in an official capacity, but he said he’d advocate for me and help where he could. If I had assignments, he’d send them off to be graded and would give feedback in his own time. He’d enter me in for the exams and also gave me a set of keys to the computer lab so I could use it whenever I needed. It was the first time anybody outside my own family had really shown faith in my abilities and encouraged me to take a stand. It was a pivotal moment for me - I realised if I wanted something badly enough I would have to fight for it, but I could still make it happen. I didn’t have to take “NO” for an answer - a lesson I think I picked up from watching him as much as from anything he ever actually said to me. After a few weeks of dithering, I took the jump. I remember a few awkward meetings with the school administration but thanks to his behind-the-scenes work, I was soon following my dream. An intense year And yes, it was bloody hard work. I had to condense an entire two year course into under a year, be disciplined enough to produce my own study plan, and be critical enough of my own shortcomings that I could focus my study where it was needed. I pretty much lived and breathed it for months straight and was more-or-less a permanent fixture in the labs or school library poring over my course books. I’d make lists of questions and chat to George over lunch, and he’d provide guidance and encouragement. It was a lonely way to learn with no classmates to compare notes with, no lessons to turn up to, and right up until the end I had no real idea whether any of it was good enough - but bit by bit, it started to feel like something I could actually pull off. And sure enough, in the late spring of 1996, I sat down in an exam hall with my fellow students, the only one with an A-Level computing question paper in front of me. The final exam went by in a blur - I can only remember a few of the questions now (and a peculiar obsession with the Pascal language) - but I do remember the euphoria as the invigilator called “time’s up, pens down, close your papers NOW”. I had done it. A few nerve-wracking months later, my Mum drove me into school to pick up my results. I ripped open the envelope and saw it - I’d passed with an A grade! I literally ran up the stairs to George’s office next to the computing labs to thank him personally. I’d taken my camera into school to take a few last photos for memory’s sake and snapped this photo of him before I walked out the school gates for the last time: A different path Because of him, I managed to get into my university of choice, studying computing with a focus on networks. Because of that, I landed my first job working as a “webmaster”, and my career since has been one of the highlights of my life. All these years later, it’s a real privilege to be able to get up each morning and actively look forward to working in an industry I love. Without George stepping up for me and encouraging me to believe in myself, none of that would have happened. I wouldn’t have had the career I have, and I wouldn’t be where I am now. I met my wife when we both worked at a software company - she sat at the desk behind me - so even my home and family life can be traced back to that spring of 1996. And the A-Level itself was only half of what I took away from that year. The qualification opened the door to university, but the lesson that came with it was every bit as important: that a “no” isn’t always the end of it, and that sometimes the answer can be argued with. I’m so proud of what I managed to achieve all those years ago, and even more thankful to have had someone like George in my life to put me on the right track. Mr. Dryden I did see him again after I left. He drank in one of my local pubs - a pub I’d been going to for a good while before I was technically old enough to be in it - and I’d say hello if I spotted him in there, mostly in the months before I moved away to university. After that it was only a handful of times. For years I’d find myself scanning the room whenever I was back home and in for a pint, half expecting him to be at the bar. At some point I stopped seeing him altogether and eventually moved across the country. The trouble was I never really knew how to talk to him outside of school. He was always Mr. Dryden, or just “Sir”, I don’t think I ever once called him George to his face! I was (and still am if I’m honest) fairly socially awkward, and I never worked out how to phrase the thing I actually wanted to say: that he had changed the entire direction of my life, and I wasn’t sure he knew it. So instead I’d say hello, and ask how he was, talk about nothing much, and go back to my friends. Epilogue Sadly, 3 years ago now, I opened the latest issue of my old school alumni newsletter to read that he’d passed away. The photo at the start of this article was taken from his obituary article and I read that he’d had a long illness and had suffered from dementia at the end. I did write to him years ago by email - I don’t know if he ever got it, or was in any capacity to understand what he’d done for me, but I hope so. There’s an old saying by one of my favourite authors (Terry Pratchett) that “no one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away”. In one of his books, a character keeps the memory of his son alive by passing his name along a series of telegraph towers. It’s in that spirit that I’m writing this post - I debated it for many years as it’s very personal to me and I also have no contact with any of George’s family so I have no idea what they would make of it all. But even though it’s 30+ years ago now, I will never forget him or what he did for me - and at least now, if someone searches his name it’ll be recorded here for as long as I’m alive and running this site. Thank you, Sir. George Dryden 1942-2023
Let’s step inside the kernel and understand how it implements copy-on-write and what are its implications for the performance of user-space systems
Yesterday, I received this email as a response to You Can't Vibe Code Love. It's such a remarkable and powerful statement that I asked permission to share it here, in its entirety, with personal information redacted: Hey Jeff, Hope you and your family are doing well.
A frustrated Reddit post about being a condom between an AI and production made the rounds in our team. Here is why I think the opposite is true and what it means for how we review code, plan work and think.