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I have ADHD. Probably.1 My entire adolescence was defined by forgetting to do my homework, disappointing everyone around me, and being told by every adult that I was lazy, “just” needed to try harder, and wasn’t living up to my potential. I’ll be working on the resulting shame and anxiety for the rest of my life.2 If someone tells me, “Remember to pick up the dry cleaning tomorrow,” I definitely won’t remember. If someone tells me, “Remember to put the laundry in the dryer in ten minutes,” I probably won’t even remember that. If you’re thinking, “It’s just ten minutes! Nobody can possibly forget that,” I have made an app that’s probably not for you. * * * Computers saved me. Despite constantly being told that I’d never get a good job, computers provided a lucrative career path filled with even worse academic performers who couldn’t care less about my grades. What a stroke of luck! I’d be mediocre to terrible at most jobs, but I turned out to be very good at using computers to turn coffee and Phish into money. But computers also save me in smaller, everyday ways. They help me remember. * * * Sorry, I just had to go put the laundry in the dryer, which I had forgotten. Really. It’s that bad. * * * Calendar alarms changed my life. Events without alarms don’t happen. (If you’re thinking, “Why doesn’t he just check his calendar?” I have made an app that’s probably not for you.) I had less success with reminders until we had ubiquitous voice capture. If I think of something at inconvenient times, like while driving or exercising, I need to capture it immediately or I’ll forget. It cannot wait until I get to my phone or computer. It has to be recorded right then or it’s gone. Siri, for all of its faults, has always been very good at creating tasks in Apple’s Reminders app — and Siri is everywhere. Computer. Phone. Car. Watch. I can almost always ask Siri to add something to Reminders. So Reminders’ integration and ubiquity are invaluable to me. The Reminders app, though, doesn’t fit me at all. I don’t like how it looks, how it works, or how it’s organized. Hell, I don’t even like its icon. There’s nothing about it I like. So I never open it. (Not as if I’d ever remember to check it anyway.)3 Most of my Reminders interaction has always been via Siri and notifications. And that fits me very well, with three major exceptions: If I say “Remind me to buy milk,” but I forget to specify a time (or Siri misses it), Reminders will never notify me, and I’ll never check the app, so it’ll be lost. If I inadvertently dismiss a Reminders notification without snoozing it, Reminders will never notify me about it again, so it’ll be lost. When I do snooze a Reminders notification, which I do a lot, the snooze options suck.4 This spring, I made myself an app to fix all three, and… it escalated. I’ve been using it for months, and it has profoundly improved my life. Today, I’m releasing it, in hopes that maybe it can help other people, too. * * * Introducing Unforgetful. The concept is simple: Reminders for ADHD. This means: It’s impossible to lose a task. Notifications always repeat, even if you miss or dismiss them, until the task is completed or deleted. Designed for procrastination. Snoozing is a core feature, with thoughtful intervals that scale as you snooze a task more. Nothing is hidden away. A hidden task is a forgotten task. No folders, no tags, no organization, no different views or modes. No judgment or shame. Nothing is overdue. You’re not in trouble. Everything is either due now or in the future. Didn’t get to it today? Maybe tomorrow. Every day is a fresh start. And Unforgetful does all of that with your Reminders data. That means: Siri works perfectly, everywhere. Just say “Remind me…” without having to specify an app. It replaces your Reminders notifications. Turn them off, turn these on. No import. This isn’t a new system to learn or migrate into. Your Reminders data is just… there. No export. If you try Unforgetful and it’s not for you, just delete it and turn Reminders notifications back on, and all of your data is right there in Reminders. Mix and match. Don’t like it everywhere? You can still use Reminders on your Vision Pro or whatever, or simultaneously use Unforgetful with Reminders or any other app that uses Reminders data. I’ve optimized lots of features and details for ADHD, too: Fast capture with dictation. Tap the microphone button in Unforgetful — or its full suite of widgets, or its Lock Screen or Control Center controls — and quickly dictate a task.5 Spaced-out notifications, not an overwhelming pile at once. If multiple tasks are set to alert you at the same time, they space themselves out so you’re not barraged with a hopeless stack of obligations. And the order changes every day, so nothing gets lost between things. Recurring-task backlogs don’t pile up. If you miss multiple intervals for a recurring task, completing it doesn’t make you click through all of your past failures to get to the present day… it just schedules the next one from now. Remind me 5 minutes after I get home. Location-based reminders can notify you after a set delay. Because if a “remind me when I get home” task fires as I pull into the driveway, I’ll forget it by the time I’m inside, unloaded, and ready to do anything about it. Unforgetful is a Mac and iOS app that’s $19.99 per year (US). One subscription buys all platforms. There’s a one-month free trial so you can really live with it and see if it’s right for you before paying. There are a million task-management apps. Unforgetful is not for everyone, but it’s really for me, far more than anything else has ever been. Frankly, I have no idea how to reach the other people it’s for. But I know you’re out there. If any of this resonates with you… give it a shot. Despite significant progress on my mental health around this from therapy and media, I haven’t (yet?) sought an official ADHD diagnosis because I haven’t sought medication, and that seemed like the main reason why I’d want a diagnosis. That’s probably worth reconsidering. I’ll make myself a reminder to do it. Someday. ↩︎ I saw a psychologist throughout high school for my homework problem. Rather than recognizing 7 of the 9 symptoms of what we now call “inattentive” ADHD, he was just one more adult condemning me for not caring. (I really did care. Nobody wanted me to be “better” more than me.) In the 1990s, if you didn’t do homework but weren’t hyperactive, you were obviously just choosing to be lazy, and the solution was apparently to apply more shame. Not all doctors are good. ↩︎ I’ve tried other apps that are beautiful and work differently, but they’re all complete task-management systems that introduce a lot of features and complexity that I neither need nor want, at the expense of Reminders’ ubiquitous integration that I highly value. I’ve also tried other apps that use the Reminders database, but I haven’t found any of them to be… good. (Sorry. I probably didn’t try yours.) ↩︎ At least they specify the actual snooze times now instead of vague descriptions like “the afternoon,” which I proudly take full credit for, since it happened to change only after I ranted about it relentlessly on our podcast for months. If I truly made this happen, it might be the greatest impact on the world I’ll ever have. ↩︎ Dictation just records every word you say as the title, which is extremely fast and reliable. It doesn’t yet recognize things like “Remind me to buy milk at 10 AM tomorrow.” I haven’t nailed that natural-language processing yet — coming soon, maybe! For now, Siri does that part better. ↩︎
As Apple celebrates its fiftieth birthday, we celebrate the spirit of its formation, when people who loved computers started making great computers to inspire more people to love computers. That spirit is difficult to find in the tech business today. Immense scale, soulless optimization, and an insatiable thirst for growth dominate its behavior and discourse, leaving little room for the spirit and principles embodied by Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak. Apple still has this spirit, and I believe you do, too. But it’s not infinite or invincible. It’s under constant pressure, including from Apple itself. It seems likely that you’ll soon be leading Apple, which will place unfathomable responsibility on your shoulders. As you grow into the leader that we know you can be, I urge you, on behalf of everyone who loves computers as much as we do, to protect and cultivate this spirit of Apple’s founders as the company’s top priority: We love computers. We don’t hide that — we celebrate it! We use computers to enhance our minds, lives, and abilities — not to be controlled, restricted, tricked, placated, angered, or surveilled. Our computers work for us, with the utmost respect for our time, attention, money, data, and privacy. We are customers and owners — not resources to be harvested, annoyed, or badgered into ever more services and upsells. Apple leads the industry in these values, but leading doesn’t always mean excelling. Remaining true to these values requires constant diligence, honest evaluation, introspection, and the audacity and courage to effect change. Apple doesn’t settle for fine, functional, or good enough in its hardware (and thanks for your incredible work on that). We love making and using products that aren’t just great, but greater than they need to be, always raising the bar of greatness for its own sake. Software, services, revenue sources, and world impact need to be held to that same standard. Focus on making great computers with great user experiences above all else, and you can trust that every other major goal will follow: profit, market share, expansion, impact, and benefit to the world. Making great computers must remain Apple’s top responsibility, because if you don’t do it, nobody will.
Ten years ago, Apple’s Phil Schiller surprised Apple enthusiasts and developers by walking out on stage at John Gruber’s The Talk Show Live WWDC event and giving an open, human, honest interview to a somewhat jaded community. I wrote this in response: Both Apple and Phil Schiller himself took a huge risk in doing this. That they agreed at all is a noteworthy gift to this community of long-time enthusiasts, many of whom have felt under-appreciated as the company has grown. […] Phil’s appearance on the show was warm, genuine, informative, and entertaining. It was human. And humanizing the company and its decisions, especially to developers — remember, developer relations is all under Phil — might be worth the PR risk. This started a ten-year run of interviews by Apple executives on The Talk Show every year at WWDC that proved to be great, surprisingly safe PR for Apple. No executive ever said something they shouldn’t have (they’re pros), no sensational or negative news stories ever resulted from them, and Apple’s enthusiastic fans and developers felt seen, heard, and appreciated. * * * For unspecified reasons, Apple has declined to participate this year, ending what had become a beloved tradition in our community — and I can’t help but suspect that it won’t come back. (A lot has changed in the meantime.) Maybe Apple has good reasons. Maybe not. We’ll see what their WWDC PR strategy looks like in a couple of weeks. In the absence of any other information, it’s easy to assume that Apple no longer wants its executives to be interviewed in a human, unscripted, unedited context that may contain hard questions, and that Apple no longer feels it necessary to show their appreciation to our community and developers in this way. I hope that’s either not the case, or it doesn’t stay the case for long. This will be the first WWDC I’m not attending since 2009 (excluding the remote 2020 one, of course). Given my realizations about my relationship with Apple and how they view developers, I’ve decided that it’s best for me to take a break this year, gain some perspective, and decide what my future relationship should look like. Maybe Apple’s leaders are doing that, too.
Today, on the tenth anniversary of Overcast 1.0, I’m happy to launch a complete rewrite and redesign of most of the iOS app, built to carry Overcast into the next decade — and hopefully beyond. Like podcasts better than blog posts? Listen to ATP #596 for more! What’s new Much faster, more responsive, more reliable, and more accessible. Modern design, optimized for easily-reached controls on today’s phone sizes. Improvements throughout, such as undoing large seeks, new playlist-priority options, easier navigation, and more. What’s not Most features. Overcast is still Overcast! The audio engine. It’s the best part of Overcast, and still leads the industry in sound quality, silence skipping, and volume normalization. (More soon!) The business. I’m still a one-person operation, with no funding or external ownership, serving only my customers. My principles. I always want to make the best podcast app, and I’ll never disrespect your time, attention, or privacy. What’s gone Streaming. Most big podcasts now use dynamic ad insertion, which causes bugs and problems for streaming playback.1 Downloading episodes completely before they begin playback is much more reliable. Tapping a non-downloading episode will now open the playback screen, download it, then start playback. It works similarly to the way streaming did before, but playback begins after the download completes, not after a portion of it is buffered. On today’s fast networks, this usually only takes a few extra seconds. And in the near future, I’ll be adding smarter options and more control over selective downloading of episodes to further improve the experience for people who don’t automatically download every episode. What’s next The last few missing features from the old app, such as Shortcuts support, storage management, and OPML. These are absent now, but will return soon. More options for downloading and deleting episodes. Upgrading the Apple Watch app to the new, faster sync engine. (The Watch app is currently unchanged from the previous one.) And, of course, more features, including some of your most-requested features over the last decade. Getting this rewrite out the door was a monumental task. Thank you for your patience as I work through this list! Why? Most of Overcast’s core code was 10 years old, which made it cumbersome or impossible to easily move with the times, adopt new iOS functionality, or add new features, especially as one person. That’s why there haven’t been many new features or changes in years. You saw it, and I saw it. I wasn’t able to serve my customers as well as I wanted. For Overcast to have a future, it needed a modern foundation for its second decade. I’ve spent the past 18 months rebuilding most of the app with Swift, SwiftUI, Blackbird, and modern Swift concurrency. Now, development is rapidly accelerating. I’m more responsive, iterating more quickly, and ultimately making the app much better. Thank you all so much for the first decade of Overcast. Here’s to the next one. Dynamic ad insertion (DAI) splices ads into each download, and no two downloads are guaranteed to have the same number or duration of ads. So, for example, if the first half of an episode downloads, then the download fails, and it downloads the second half with another request, the combined audio may jump forward or back at the halfway mark, losing or repeating content. ↩︎
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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.
And here we are three years after I wrote about the Google Pixel Fold being announced, followed now with the announcement of the iPhone Duo...(I have questions about the naming by the way). Four years ago I was talking about web primitives in the platform for the Surface Duo. My how time flies. There are CSS media features, a Viewport Segments API, a Device Posture API but Chromium based browsers are the only ones currently supporting these things. I haven't been able to find any signal yet on whether Safari will support these things in the web platform as the developer docs focus on application development. If you're interested in trying out the platform features, you can emulate the Surface Duo and Galaxy Z Fold in the developer tools. And if you're thinking, do I really have to have my website adapt to two screens? The answer is no. Adding a design to an application or dual screen makes sense if you have an experience that has two simulataneous contexts that are useful e.g. a list of email messages/inbox on one screen, an open message, email thread or email composer on the other. Here's one of my talks from 2022 if you're interested in learning more about what's available in the browser for dual screen/foldable devices. Happy building :)
