More from A Beautiful Site
As software engineers, we take pride in hand-written code and knowing how everything we build works in detail. While there are many developers out there who build good software, there are many, many more who don’t. Yet we balk at the idea of vibe coding, even when it yields decent results. You don’t need a scientific study to realize the mean quality of human-authored software leaned towards slop even before AI was around. How many times have you been frustrated by an app or website that just didn’t work right? (This is especially true for software produced by big companies.) The quality of software humans can build is absolutely incredible. But the quality of software humans actually do build is usually not. So no, AI can’t build perfect software. Maybe that will improve in the future, or maybe it will remain just as messy as the human-authored code LLMs have been trained on. I don’t think any of that matters, because if AI can build software that’s at least as good as the mediocre code that came before it, that will be acceptable for most industries. Customers don’t care about the craft, they care about the result. And if the result is faster, cheaper, and good enough…well, that’s a better combination than anything they’ve ever had before. Why wouldn't they choose it?
I launched ColorCopy on May 18. It was my second macOS app, but the first one I launched on the Mac App Store. Today, I decided to pull it. The app isn't a new idea, but it bakes four color tools into a single menu bar app: an eyedropper, a color picker, a palette manager, and a contrast checker, each one a hotkey away. I made it available for free, with a one-time in-app purchase to unlock unlimited use. No subscription, no recurring fees. It's simple, stable software with the lowest possible barrier to entry…exactly the kind of utility the App Store seems made for. I wasn't sure what to expect, so I ran an experiment to answer some questions: Is there any real benefit to having your Mac app on the App Store? Is the Apple tax worth it? Will customers just come flooding in? For ColorCopy's release, I did zero marketing. No Product Hunt launch. No Hacker News post. The only things I published were this blog post and a tweet. If the App Store delivers on its promise of discoverability, that should be enough to see some kind of traffic…right? You be the judge. In nearly three months on the App Store, ColorCopy got a little over 1,000 impressions, 149 product page views, 85 first-time downloads, three in-app purchases, and $21 in proceeds. Not per day. In total. Broken down over 81 days, that averages out to: 13 impressions per day 1.8 product page views per day 1 download per day 0.04 in-app purchases per day (about one per month) $0.26 in proceeds per day Extrapolated to 12 months, ColorCopy would have earned about $95…not even enough to cover Apple's $99 annual developer fee. If discoverability isn't a part of the App Store deal, what exactly is the benefit? Why limit your Mac app to the sandbox?* Why spend hours in App Store Connect filling out metadata, screenshots, and localization information? Why wait an arbitrary number of days for someone to review your app with the consistency of a coin flip? It doesn't seem worth it for Mac developers. Adios, App Store 👋 As of today, ColorCopy is self-distributed and sold through Polar (the new Stripe, which I highly recommend). This is the same way I sell TongueType, which makes pretty much everything easier on my end: one dashboard, real customer relationships, no finicky review process, and updates ship the moment they're ready. The move required swapping out in-app purchases from StoreKit to Polar, and updates now ship through Sparkle instead of the App Store's built-in update mechanism. Both are tried and true solutions for self-distributed Mac apps. To be fair, you can't really do this on iOS. Most users aren't jailbroken…walled garden and all. But on Mac, where self-distribution is still a first-class option, there seems to be zero incentive to be in the App Store, especially if you're counting on discoverability. In three months, the App Store sent me barely a trickle of customers. Had I marketed the app myself, the traffic would have flowed the other way. I would've been sending my customers to Apple and paying a tax for the privilege.** Self-distribution gives me the freedom and control over my apps that the App Store's sandbox never will. If it's on me to drum up all of my own traffic, I'm going to send it to my own website. *I originally used a third-party library for the eye dropper because NSColorSampler is meh, but the sandbox forbids it so I was forced to remove it. Yes, I had to make my app shittier in order to put it on the App Store. **I fully acknowledge this may not be the case for every app, but it was my experience and worth sharing. Your mileage may vary. Aside: ColorCopy was available in 10 languages on the App Store. For some reason, the listing always showed FR as its primary language (it wasn't). The app is available in many languages, including English.
I built the dictation app I wanted. It's called TongueType, and my daughter did the voice over for the video. (Family business.) It hasn't gotten much traction yet, and I think I know why: dictation has been bad for so long that most people stopped paying attention. I don't blame them. But I don't think most people realize how good local models have gotten. The thing that was flaky and frustrating five years ago is genuinely good now, and it runs entirely on your Mac. Downloads are low. But the conversion rate is great. The people who actually try it tend to stick around, which tells me the problem isn't the app, it's getting someone to give dictation one more honest chance. The real hurdle is the habit The hard part isn't accuracy. It's that talking instead of typing is a new habit, and new habits are awkward before they're automatic. For the first week it feels strange. You catch yourself reaching for the keyboard out of muscle memory. Then one day it clicks, and you realize how slow typing was making you for certain things. I still write code by hand. That's thinking, not transcribing, and I want my fingers on it (plus saying HTML tags and attributes out loud seems counterintuitive 😂). But for almost everything else, I talk. I prompt LLMs I send emails I reply on Slack I write commit messages I do most other text with my voice The common thread is that the thinking is already done and the only thing left is getting the words out. That turns out to be a surprising amount of my day. My desk setup On the go, the MacBook's built-in mic works just fine. You don't need fancy hardware to get good results. But when I'm at my desk, my laptop is docked, so I pair TongueType with a Tula mic. It's small, portable, sounds great, and looks the part! (Kuru Toga mechanical pencil positioned for size comparison.) One tip: use a wired mic if you can. Bluetooth adds latency, and latency is the enemy of a tool you reach for dozens of times a day. A wired connection makes the whole thing feel instant. Honest caveat: it's probably not a great look in a co-working space. 😂 "Why is this better than macOS dictation?" More accurate. Less flaky. More customizable. More fun. I could list the features, but the honest answer is the same one I'd give for most things: just try it and you'll feel the difference immediately. It's free to start. What's your experience been with dictation? If you wrote it off years ago, I'd genuinely love for you to give TongueType a shot and tell me what you think.
I just launched my first macOS app called TongueType. It's voice dictation that runs entirely on your Mac. Hold a key, speak, release, and your words appear wherever your cursor happens to be. I build small, simple, stable software. TongueType fits that description, and it scratches an itch I've had for a while. Why I made it I type fast, but I often think faster than I type. When an idea is fully formed in my head, the bottleneck is my fingers. macOS has had built-in dictation forever, but I never liked relying on it. Accuracy aside, I didn't love the idea of my voice taking a trip to a server and back just to write a sentence. There are many dictation apps in the wild, but I want one that's privacy focused, doesn't send data to the cloud, doesn't charge a monthly subscription, and gets out of the way. TongueType uses OpenAI's Whisper model running locally on Apple Silicon. Nothing is uploaded. Nothing is logged. There's no account to create. Zero telemetry. Your voice never leaves your Mac. How it works The whole interaction is one key. By default it's the Right Option key, because it's sitting right there and your thumb isn't doing anything important. Hold it, talk, let go. The transcribed text is inserted at your cursor…in your editor, your email, a chat box, a search field, anywhere text goes. You can also drop in an audio or video file — WAV, MP3, MP4, MOV — and get a transcript back. Handy for meeting recordings and voice memos. A few things I sweated the details on: A grace period so a quick accidental tap doesn't start recording. Double-tap to latch for when you want to keep talking without holding the key down. Cancel phrases — say "scratch that" at the end and the whole thing gets discarded. You will use this more than you expect. Spoken symbols — say "new line" or "question mark" and you get the symbol, not the words. Post-processing — for common terms that seldom get dictated properly. TongueType speaks twelve languages and includes automatic detection, so you don't have to tell it which one you're using. How I actually use it Building the app was one thing. Using it every day turned out to be another. A couple months in, it's quietly worked its way into most of what I do at the keyboard: Prompting LLMs. Talking to an AI assistant is conversational by nature, and typing out a long, detailed prompt is tedious. Speaking it isn't. I get more context into a prompt because I'm not rationing my words to save my fingers. Email. Replies that used to sit in my drafts now get spoken out in a single pass. I still read them before sending, but the blank-page friction is gone. Code comments and commit messages. The parts of coding that are just writing. It's faster to explain why a change exists out loud than to stop and type it. Direct messages. Quick replies in chat without breaking flow. Hold the key, say it, done. The common thread: TongueType is best wherever the thinking is already done and the only thing left is getting words out. That's a surprising amount of my work day. A fun personality TongueType is minimal and fun. It lives in the menu bar. The recording overlay is small and out of the way, and you can configure its position on screen. There are twenty accent colors including Rainbow Mode. None of these extras were necessary, but all of it was fun to build. Accessibility I want to call this out specifically. Voice dictation isn't only a convenience. For some people it's the difference between using a computer comfortably or not. If typing is painful or difficult for you, TongueType is built to be a genuine alternate input method, not an afterthought. That mattered to me, and it shaped a lot of the decisions above. Pricing TongueType is free to try, and the free tier includes every feature. You get 30 minutes of live dictation each month and short file transcriptions. If you want unlimited, TongueType Pro is a one-time $19.99 purchase that covers up to five Macs and unlocks unlimited dictation and full-length file transcription. No subscription. Buy it once, keep it forever. Requirements TongueType needs macOS 14 or later on an Apple Silicon Mac (M1 or newer). The local model is the whole point, and that's what makes it run so well. If any of this sounds useful, give it a try at TongueType.app. It's free to start, and I'd genuinely like to hear what you think.
I believe artificial intelligence is a powerful and valuable tool that can significantly improve how we create, solve problems, and bring ideas to life. I didn't always feel this way.. But these days, I use AI regularly in my work and I expect that to continue. We may not have chosen this reality, but it's the reality we're in. The tools and their benefits — costs be damned — can no longer be ignored. That said, when people ask "was this made with AI?" the honest answer is rarely simple. AI can speed up many parts of the process, but it doesn’t replace human judgment, creativity, or responsibility. What appears effortless on the surface rests on deliberate human direction, critical thinking, and careful review. Getting good results from AI requires active guidance and oversight. The nuances of context, ethics, user needs, and real-world application are simply too varied given the current technology. Moreover, AI doesn’t generate meaningful ideas or elegant solutions on its own. Strong human vision, architecture, and decision-making are still essential. There is no prompt, model, or service that can deliver finished, trustworthy work without substantial human input. My commitment to you is this: everything I create will be driven by human ideas, architecture, verification, and final review. I will use AI as an assistant to do what I would have done anyway, but more efficiently. I will not let AI replace my intelligence, but I will use it to turn my intelligence into code faster. — Cory LaViska
More in programming
My now-traditional “summary” of the conference along with my own commentary and thoughts.
Every year, browser vendors collaborate via the Interop project to synchronize their efforts on new HTML/CSS/JS features. This year, there’s a ton of super exciting features being considered! In this blog post, we’ll explore the CSS of the future, to get a glimpse of what we’ll soon be able to do.
Imprint’s average engineer is merging 4x more PRs than 2 years ago. Yay. Aggregated behind the average is something even more interesting: we have two teams that are merging 10x their PRs over that period. One engineer is merging 25x the PRs per week of our average engineer two years ago, and a number are merging 10x. That’s pretty neat, and the slope of the line suggests our average in a year is going to look much closer to today’s p90 than today’s p50. Even more importantly, we aren’t just shipping more, our quality has improved: incidents are down 42% half-over-half, and critical incidents are down 78% half-over-half. I think we’ve always known the quality/velocity tradeoff wasn’t a particularly useful construct, but that’s undeniable today. As we’ve walked this path, we–like everyone else progressing down it–have run into the problem of pull request review. The p50 pull request review took about 33 minutes to complete 2 years ago, but now takes us about 77 minutes. The slope here correlates tightly with the number of pull requests getting merged. Tightly enough that addressing it became one of my priorities for the week. We solved it! Just kidding, we’ve absolutely not solved it, but I think our current approach is an interesting one, which we call the small-change. The work discussed here was shaped and done by many folks at Imprint including Dan, Joy, Daniel, Lenny, Taylor, Ted, and Annie, among many others. Why review pull requests? There are four reasons we review pull requests: Knowledge sharing between author and reviewer – software engineering is generally learned via apprenticeship, and reviews are a primary mechanism of experienced engineers teaching others what good software looks like. We believe the current volume means that this knowledge sharing will have to move towards operating on clusters of pull requests, rather than individual pull requests Preventing errors – review has always been an expensive time to catch errors, and we believe that effective CICD along with harness verification techniques like poteto’s pstack are more effective mechanisms for preventing errors than review Preventing malicious behavior – my experience is that even careful code review will generally miss competent malicious behavior, although fortunately most malicious behavior is incompetent. We believe both sorts of behavior are best identified using a combination of fixed rules (modifying these specific objects/classes/files requires review), anti-abuse mechanisms that we’ve refined in our LLM-based member support experiences, auditing, and audit log inspection Compliance obligations in our documented controls – these can be changed, but today they require that an independent human reviews changes in a subset of our repositories In the modern development paradigm, we think there is a better solution for each of these problems. But, we also want to make these changes very cautiously. Small steps with small-change We believe we move fast by finding narrow, contained ways to validate new practices, so to iterate our way into an effective solution, we’ve developed the concept of a small-change. Here’s how it works: When a pull request is marked ready, CICD determines whether it is eligible to be a small-change. This is represented as a passing Github check. There is also a label for visibility, but it is the check itself, managed by the build and not human modifiable, that determines eligibility. (The label is used for initial filtering, but the check is still independently verified.) Something is a small-change if it meets all of these criteria: It is less than 1,000 lines of code There are no p1 or p2 findings from our ai-code-review automated review bot The author has “experience” in the service or application, defined as 10+ prior merged pull requests into that service or application’s directories. For changes working across multiple services or applications, the author must have experience in all of them to qualify Impacts fewer than N distinct services or applications. N is 1 on our frontend monorepo, and N is 3 in our backend monorepo, where typical changes will modify both a gRPC service and a common HTTP gateway Shared libraries and utilities files are not eligible for small-change Each repository has a .small_change file which allows per-path customization while we continue to tune the behaviors. For example, a service dealing with money movement can be excluded Our Slack automation tags every reference to a pull request with reacji labeling the state of that pull request, for example if it has failing tests, if it has been approved but tests are still running, or if it is ready to merge. We added a small-change reacji that indicates which of those pull requests meet the small-change criteria In our internal skills repository, we created two skills that have been distributed across harnesses: review-small-change which takes a list of repositories and reviews all open, non-draft, small-changes, including providing approval if they meet the review’s criteria (all checks pass including small-change check, and not touching on sensitive topics such as payments and security) review-pr-cluster which reviews batches of pull requests to identify common themes that came up, and suggest opportunities for discussion and adding verifications We set the social expectation that any error caused by a small-change is a failure in our system, and has to be solved at the system level: improvements to ai-code-review, to our verification mechanisms, to our CICD, to our harness, etc. This took about two days of infrequent attention to implement and rollout, although I imagine we will be tuning the knobs here for a long time. Maybe forever. fleet: centrally orchestrated harness I’ll briefly mention our other approach to reducing code review volume, which anchors on our centrally-orchestrated harness, fleet. (Which is similar to Stripe’s Minions although not following the one-shot approach in particular). We rely on fleet to implement and verify software in a highly controlled harness running in the cloud, with independent evaluation mechanisms to identify the correct number of independent reviewers for any given change. That number can be as low as one (e.g. fleet writes, one human reviews) for changes evaluated as safe. Results / next steps / reception I’ll be honest, it’s too early to give a useful result here. From early results, about 10% of changes qualify as a small-change. Those are now eligible for very fast approval, and generally get it unless they trip a flag, generally due to touching a security or money adjacent topic. While 10% is a small percentage, the core concept here is working, and ultimately will succeed or fail based on our ability to expand that percentage over the next few months in tandem with expanding our verification mechanisms to be increasingly comprehensive. This is ultimately going to fail or succeed depending on our ability to improve our verifications, which does require more difficult sorts of techniques to accomplish in low scale-complexity, high domain-complexity software than in the high scale-complexity, low domain-complexity products where many techniques like incremental rollouts are exceptionally effective. (Don’t get me wrong, they still work, they just provide less coverage when most users have different configuration and behavior.) Folks have not been uniformly excited about this, it’s a substantial change from how we’ve learned to be good engineers, and it’s uncomfortable to reevaluate whether a long-held best practice has become merely dogma. The most energizing part of the current cycle is that we get to reevaluate these practices we grew up on every week; the most painful part of the current cycle is that we’re likely to fall behind if we ever stop reevaluating them.
The park near my house has lots of chestnuts and my kids have been collecting them like crazy (it’s actually their favorite post-school activity). We accumulated quite a hoard. I thought it would be fun to make a launcher so we had something to do with our new chestnut collection. I wanted to go with a very simple crossbow-style design (like the famous D2 item) using latex tubing and a leather pouch for holding the chestnuts. This is what I came up with. It launches chestnuts about 220 feet, and it’s simple enough to build in an afternoon. The frame is a 42 inch 2x2 and a spare IKEA bed slat for the crossbeam, glued and screwed together. A 3/8 inch eye bolt goes through each end of the crossbeam, and the latex tubing is tied to those and to the pouch from a leather shepherd’s sling. Tying the tubing was the fiddliest part. It has to be stretched while you wrap it with butcher’s twine, so I clamped a couple of scrap blocks to my workbench to hold it. I like this design because the tubing can be wrapped around the eye bolts to easily add more tension and power. The Trigger My favorite part of the design was that I decided to use an archery release like this one for the trigger. It provides a safe and reliable way to hold the tubing back, and it’s made to let go cleanly. I 3D printed a little housing that mounts the release securely to the back of the stock, and the release clips onto a loop of archery D-loop cord on the back of the pouch. Then I added a dowel for a rear grip and an old handle I had previously removed from my shop vac. How Well Does It Work? We tried it at the park and it works surprisingly well. Aimed at about 35 to 40 degrees, it sends our chestnuts (on the small side, about 10 to 15 grams) about 220 feet. Thanks to the archery release, we haven’t had a single misfire. I got curious and did some rough math. To go that far with air drag, the chestnuts are leaving at somewhere around 85 to 100 mph, which works out to about the same energy as a paintball. So safety glasses are important and you never point it at anyone. You can find the 3D print on Printables and a full build guide on Instructables. Make sure to always use it with adult supervision :)
I have a lot of digital cross-stitch patterns and until recently they were a mess. My “collection” was a series of several hundred PDFs, disorganised and spread across my disk. Recently, I was looking for a pattern and it took me several minutes to find it. I had a brief moment of panic, thinking that I’d lost it, and the website this pattern came from is long since gone. Fortunately it did turn up, but it was clear I had to organise my pattern collection. Some people would use apps like Pattern Keeper or Flosshaven, but I just created another static website on my media drive. This is what it looks like: The patterns are arranged in a masonry layout with a preview thumbnail for each pattern, which is normally the first page of the PDF. If a pattern has multiple files – for example, different files for colour and black-and-white printing – there’s a list of links below the thumbnail. I can also add a source link to where I bought the pattern, if I want to find more patterns by the same author. Internally, it’s structured like my other static websites. The metadata for the patterns is stored in a JavaScript file, and then I have an HTML page which renders that metadata in this visual design. My pattern collection doesn’t change very often, so I’m adding new files by hand. There are no sorting or filtering options, because my collection is small enough that they’re unnecessary. I can scroll through the entire list in less than a minute and find whatever I need. I’d like to start making my own clothes soon, and I expect to copy this design to store clothing patterns. This collection now sits alongside my saved bookmarks, podcasts, TV shows, and more. I can keep all my patterns organised, and I won’t lose them in the depths of my hard drive. Technical tricks There are a couple of technical pieces I’m quite pleased with in this process: Masonry layout. I love the cascading grid style of a masonry layout, and I think they’re great when you have variable-sized content – like my pattern cards. I’ve been using them for over a decade; screenshots of my early web apps show my experiments with David Desandro’s Masonry.js library. Masonry layouts are now a native feature of CSS called “Grid Lanes”, which is simpler and more performant than the JavaScript approach. I’m excited to use these layouts in even more places. Thumbnails of PDFs. Most digital postage patterns are shipped as PDFs, and I’m creating the thumbnail images with my create_thumbnail tool. I had to extend my tool to support PDFs, which turned out to be straightforward with the pdf_oxide crate. I’d not come across Oxide before, but it’s a cross-language library for working with PDFs, and I can imagine using it in future. A coloured stripe for the palette. In the metadata for each project, I have the complete list of DMC thread colours and the pattern dimensions. I have a lookup table that converts DMC thread colours to hex codes, and then I’m able to create a linear gradient in CSS to render a coloured stripe of the pattern colours. Here’s an example from a pattern with four colours: border-bottom: 12px solid transparent; border-image: linear-gradient( to right, #7a451f 0%, #7a451f 25%, #985e33 25%, #985e33 50%, #e4bb8e 50%, #e4bb8e 75%, #361f0e 75%, #361f0e 100% ) 1; Building the HTML, CSS, and JavaScript was very quick – I have notes on how I build my media sites, and I’ve done it plenty of times before. I threw together the initial prototype in less than 15 minutes. The longer part was finding all the PDFs scattered across my disk – but now that’s done, and I know exactly where to find my patterns. [If the formatting of this post looks odd in your feed reader, visit the original article]