Full Width [alt+shift+f] Shortcuts [alt+shift+k]
Sign Up [alt+shift+s] Log In [alt+shift+l]
7
A lot of work goes into making every page and view of a website or webapp look consistent with every other page or view. It’s just good design. Smaller, newer experiences tend to be more uniform than not. This makes sense in that the bulk of the experience is created at the same time and orchestrated by a small group of people. Larger, older sites tend to grow into being slightly less invariable. If you have a keen eye you can spot the differences: An odd tint or shade here, Contrasting border radii there, An errant button style unearthing itself from a past redesign, and Over here is an errant microsite made by a third party vendor, And here is the abandoned pet project of a stakeholder who has long-since moved on. It is sort of like counting the rings on a tree: Here’s where flat design overtook skeumorphism, Here’s where the brand’s primary color went from royal purple to cornflower blue, Here’s where we left the harbor of web safe fonts to download some WOFF files, etc. There’s...
7 months ago

Improve your reading experience

Logged in users get linked directly to articles resulting in a better reading experience. Please login for free, it takes less than 1 minute.

More from Eric Bailey

Evaluating overlay-adjacent accessibility products

I get asked about my opinion on overlay-adjacent accessibility products with enough frequency that I thought it could be helpful to write about it. There’s a category of third party products out there that are almost, but not quite an accessibility overlay. By this I mean that they seem a little less predatory, and a little more grounded in terms of the promises they make. Some of these products are widgets. Some are browser extensions. Some are apps. Some are an odd fourth thing. Sometimes it’s a case of a solutioneering disability dongle grift, sometimes its a case of good intentions executed in a less-than-optimal way, and sometimes it’s something legitimately helpful. Oftentimes it’s something that lies in the middle area of all of this. Many of them also have some sort of “AI” integration, which is the unfortunate upsell du jour we have to collectively endure for the time being. The rubric I use to evaluate these products remains very similar to how I scrutinize overlays. Hopefully it’s something that can be helpful for your own efforts. Should the product’s functionality be patented? I’m not very happy with the idea that the mechanism to operate something in an accessible way is inhibited by way of legal restriction. This artificially limits who can use it, which is in opposition to the overall mission of digital accessibility. Ideally the technology is the free bit, and the service that facilitates it is what generates the profit. Do I need to subscribe to use it? A subscription-based model is a great way to run a business, but you don’t need to pay a recurring fee to use an accessible website. The nature of the web’s technology means it can be operated via keyboard, voice control, and other assistive technology if constructed properly. Workarounds and community support also exist for some things where it’s not built well. Here I’d also like you to consider the disability tax, and how that factors into a rental model. It’s not great. Does the browser or operating system already have this functionality? A lot of the time this boils down to an issue of discovery, digital literacy, or identity. As touched on in the previous section, browsers and operating systems offer a lot to help you self-serve. Notable examples are reading mode, on-screen narration, color filters, interface and text zoom, and forced color inversion. Can it be used across multiple experiences, or just one website? Stability and predictability of operation and output are vital for technology like this. It’s why I am so bullish on utilizing existing browser and operating system features. Products built to “enhance” the accessibility of a single website or app can’t contribute towards this. Ironically, their presence may actually contribute friction towards someone’s existing method of using things. A tricky little twist here is products that target a single website are often advertised towards the website owner, and not the people who will be using said website. Can I use the keyboard to operate it? I’ve gotten in the habit of pressing Tab a few times when I first check out the product’s website and see if anything happens. It’s a quick and easy test to see if the company walks the walk in addition to talking the talk. Here, I regrettably encounter missing focus indicators and non-semantic interactive controls more often than not. I might also sometimes run the homepage through axe DevTools, to see if there are other egregious errors. I then try to use the product itself with a keyboard if a demo is offered. I am usually found wanting here. How reliable is the AI? There are two broad considerations here: How reliable is the output? How can bias affect someone’s interpretation of things? While I am a skeptic, I can also acknowledge that there are some good use cases for LLMs and related technology when it comes to disability. I think about reliability in terms of the output in terms of the “assistive” part of assistive technology. By this, I mean it actually helps you do what you need to get done. Here, I’d point to Salma Alam-Naylor’s experience with newer startups in this space versus established, community supported solutions. Then consider LLM-based image description products. Here we want to make sure the content is accurate and relevant. Remember that image descriptions are the mechanism that some people rely on to help them understand the world. If that description is not accurate, it impacts how they form an understanding of their environment. A step past that thought is the biases inherent in, and perpetuated by LLM-based technology. I recall Ben Myers’ thoughts on implicit, hegemonic normalization, as well as the sobering truth that this technology can exert influence over its users worldview at scale. Can the company be trusted with your data? A lot of assistive technology is purposely designed to not announce the fact that it is being used. This is to stave off things like discrimination or ineffective, separate-yet-equal “accessibility only” sites. There’s also the murky world of data brokerage, and if the company is selling off this information or not. AccessiBe comes to mind here, and not in a good way. Also consider if the product has access to everything you visit and interact with, and who has access to that information. As a companion concern, it is also worth considering the product’s data security practices—or lack thereof. Here, I would like to point out that startups tend to deprioritize this boring kind of infrastructure work in favor of feature creation. Not having any personal information present in a system is the best way to guard against its theft. Also know that there is no way to undo a data breach once it occurs. Leaked information stays leaked. Will the company last? Speaking of startups, know that more fail than succeed. Are you prepared for an outcome where the product you rely on is is no longer updated or supported because the company that made it went out of business? It could also be a case where the company still exists, but ceases to support the product you use. Here, know that sometimes these companies will actively squash attempts for community-based resurrection and support of the service because it represents potential liability. This concern is another reason why I’m bullish on operating system and browser functionality. They have a lot more resiliency and focus on the long view in this particular area. But also I’m not the arbiter of who can use what. In the spirit of “the best camera is the one you have on you:” if something works for your specific access needs, by all means use it.

a week ago 10 votes
Stanislav Petrov

A lieutenant colonel in the Soviet Air Defense Forces prevented the end of human civilization on September 26th, 1983. His name was Stanislav Petrov. Protocol dictated that the Soviet Union would retaliate against any nuclear strikes sent by the United States. This was a policy of mutually assured destruction, a doctrine that compels a horrifying logical conclusion. The second and third stage effects of this type of exchange would be even more catastrophic. Allies for each side would likely be pulled into the conflict. The resulting nuclear winter was projected to lead to 2 billion deaths due to starvation. This is to say nothing about those who would have been unfortunate enough to have survived. Petrov’s job was to monitor Oko, the computerized warning systems built to centralize Soviet satellite communications. Around midnight, he received a report that one of the satellites had detected the infrared signature of a single launch of a United States ICBM. While Petrov was deciding what to do about this report, the system detected four more incoming missile launches. He had minutes to make a choice about what to do. It is impossible to imagine the amount of pressure placed on him at this moment. Source: Stanislav Petrov, Soviet officer credited with averting nuclear war, dies at 77 by Schwartzreport. Petrov lived in a world of deterministic systems. The technologies that powered these warning systems have outputs that are guaranteed, provided the proper inputs are provided. However, deterministic does not mean infallible. The only reason you are alive and reading this is because Petrov understood that the systems he observed were capable of error. He was suspicious of what he was seeing reported, and chose not to escalate a retaliatory strike. There were two factors guiding his decision: A surprise attack would most likely have used hundreds of missiles, and not just five. The allegedly foolproof Oko system was new and prone to errors. An error in a deterministic system can still lead to expected outputs being generated. For the Oko system, infrared reflections of the sun shining off of the tops of clouds created a false positive that was interpreted as detection of a nuclear launch event. Source: US-K History by Kosmonavtika. The concept of erroneous truth is a deep thing to internalize, as computerized systems are presented as omniscient, indefective, and absolute. Petrov’s rewards for this action were reprimands, reassignment, and denial of promotion. This was likely for embarrassing his superiors by the politically inconvenient shedding of light on issues with the Oko system. A coerced early retirement caused a nervous breakdown, likely him having to grapple with the weight of his decision. It was only in the 1990s—after the fall of the Soviet Union—that his actions were discovered internationally and celebrated. Stanislav Petrov was given the recognition that he deserved, including being honored by the United Nations, awarded the Dresden Peace Prize, featured in a documentary, and being able to visit a Minuteman Missile silo in the United States. On January 31st, 2025, OpenAI struck a deal with the United States government to use its AI product for nuclear weapon security. It is unclear how this technology will be used, where, and to what extent. It is also unclear how OpenAI’s systems function, as they are black box technologies. What is known is that LLM-generated responses—the product OpenAI sells—are non-deterministic. Non-deterministic systems don’t have guaranteed outputs from their inputs. In addition, LLM-based technology hallucinates—it invents content with no self-knowledge that it is a falsehood. Non-deterministic systems that are computerized also have the perception as being authoritative, the same as their deterministic peers. It is not a question of how the output is generated, it is one of the output being perceived to come from a machine. These are terrifying things to know. Consider not only the systems this technology is being applied to, but also the thoughtless speed of their integration. Then consider how we’ve historically been conditioned and rewarded to interpret the output of these systems, and then how we perceive and treat skeptics. We don’t live in a purely deterministic world of technology anymore. Stanislav Petrov died on September 18th, 2017, before this change occurred. I would be incredibly curious to know his thoughts about our current reality, as well as the increasing abdication of human monitoring of automated systems in favor of notably biased, supposed “AI solutions.” In acknowledging Petrov’s skepticism in a time of mania and political instability, we acknowledge a quote from former U.S. Secretary of Defense William J. Perry’s memoir about the incident: [Oko’s false positives] illustrates the immense danger of placing our fate in the hands of automated systems that are susceptible to failure and human beings who are fallible.

2 weeks ago 16 votes
GitHub’s updated Commits page and the interactive list component

GitHub has updated the page template used to list Commits on a repository. Central to this experience is an interactive list component that I was responsible for architecting. This work was done alongside input from James Scholes, whose guidance was instrumental to the effort’s success. An interactive list is a construct that’s more commonplace on desktop applications than the web. That does not mean its approach is forbidden from being used for web experiences, however. What concerns does an interactive list address? The main concern an interactive list addresses is when each discrete item in a series contains multiple interactive child elements. Navigating through every child interactive element placed with each parent list item can be a tedious enough chore that it makes the effort a non-starter. For example, if the list has ten items and each item has seven interactive child elements, that means it takes up to seventy Tab keypresses someone needs to perform to get what they need. That’s an exhausting experience to endure. It could also be agonizing. Think motor control disabilities, where individual movements in aggregate can exceed someone’s pain tolerance threshold. Making each list item’s container itself focusable and traversable addresses this problem, as it lowers the number of keypresses someone needs to use. It also supports allowing you to quickly jump to the start or end of the list for even more navigation options. On GitHub, navigating an interactive list via your keyboard can be accomplished by pressing: Tab: Places focus on the interactive list item that last received focus. Defaults to the first item in the list if the list was previously not interacted with. Down: Moves focus to the next list item, if present. Up: Moves focus to the previous list item, if present. End: Moves focus to the last list item in the interactive list. Home: Moves focus to the first list item in the interactive list. There’s a trick here: We want to make sure each list item’s announcement contains enough information that someone can make an informed choice when navigating via a screen reader. We also do not want to make the announcement so verbose that it slows down the navigation process. For example, we only include the commit title when navigating via list item on the Commits page. For an Issue, we use: The Issue title, Its status, and Its author (there is currently a bug here, we’re working on fixing it). There is an intentionality behind the order of content in this announcement, as we want to include the most pertinent information first. This, in turn, helps people navigating by list item announcement make more informed choices faster. This lets us know: What the problem is, Has it been dealt with yet, and Who found the problem? We also use the term “More information available below” to signal that someone can explore the list item’s child content in more detail. This is accomplished via pressing: Tab: Navigates forwards through each child interactive element in sequence. Shift + Tab: Navigates backwards through each child interactive element in sequence. Esc: Moves focus out of the child interactive elements and places it back on the parent list item itself. Examples of child content that someone could encounter are an Issues’ author, its labels, linked Pull Requests, comment tally, and assignees. Problems The use of the phrase “More information available below” does not sit well with me, despite being the person who oversaw its inclusion. There’s a couple of reasons here: First, I’m normally loathe to hardcode interaction hints for screen readers. The interactive list component is a bit of an exception to that rule. It is an uncommon interaction pattern on the web, so the hint needs to be included until efforts to formalize it both: Manifest, and Get widespread support from assistive technology vendors. Without these two things, I fear that blind and low vision individuals will not be able to fully utilize the experience the same way their peers can. Second, the hint phrasing itself isn’t that great. The location-based term “below” is shorthand to try and communicate that there’s subsequent child content that is related to the list item’s main content. While “subsequent child content that is related to the list item’s main content” is more descriptive, it’s an earful. I am very much open to suggestions for a replacement phrase. And this potential for change sets up other things that weigh on me. Bigger problems Using this interactive list component on the Commits page template means there are now two main areas on GitHub where the component is present. The second being the lists of repository Issues for logged-in accounts. Large, structural changes to a design’s underlying semantics disrupts the mental model and muscle memory of how many people who use screen readers operate an experience. It’s an act that I’m always nervous about undertaking. The calculated bet here is that the prominence of the components on these high-traffic areas means that understanding how to operate them becomes easier over time. I’ve also hedged that bet by including alternate ways of navigating the interactive list, including baking headings into each Commit and Issue title. HeadingsMap. I do think that this update to each page’s semantic structure is net better than what came before it. However, it is still going to manifest as a large and sudden change for people who use screen readers. And for the record, I view changing the “More information available below” phrasing as another large and disruptive change. Subsequent large and sudden changes is what I want to avoid at all costs. That said, we’re running out the clock on a situation where an interactive list will someday contain non-interactive content. The component’s current approach does not have a great way for people to be aware of, and subsequently read that kind of content. That’s not great. Because of this inevitability, I would like to replace the list’s interaction approach with the one we’re using for nested/sub-Issues. There are a few reasons for this, but the main ones are: Improving consistency and uniformity of interaction across all of GitHub for this kind of clustering of content. Leaning on more well-known interaction techniques for secondary content within an item by using dialogs instead of Tab keypresses. Providing a mechanism that can more easily handle exploring non-interactive content being placed within a list item. Making these changes would mean a drastic update on top of another drastic update. While I do think it would be a better overall experience, rolling it out would require a lot of careful effort and planning. Even bigger problems In many ways, GitHub is a battleship. It is slow to turn just by virtue of the sheer size and scale of concerns it needs to cover. Enacting my goal of replacing and unifying these kinds of interactions would take time: It would mean petitioning for heavy investment in something that may be perceived as an already “solved” problem. It also would require collaboration across multiple siloed product areas, each with their own pre-existing and planned objectives and priorities. I have the gift of hindsight in writing this. The interactive list was originally intended to address just the list of repository Issues. Its usage has since has grown to cover more use cases—not all of them actually applicable. This is one of the existential problems of a design system. You can write all the documentation you want, but people are ultimately going to use what they’re going to use regardless of if its appropriate or not. Replacing or excising misapplied components is another effort that runs counter to organization priorities. That truth lives hand-in-hand with the need to maintain the overall state of usability for everyone who uses the service. You’re gonna carry that weight Making dramatic changes to core parts of GitHub’s assistive technology user experience, followed by more dramatic changes, then potentially followed by even more dramatic changes is an outcome we’re potentially facing. It is the nature of software—especially websites and web apps—to change. That said, I worry about the overall churn this all could represent. I feel the weight of that responsibility as the person who set this course. I also feel the consequent pressure it exerts. I’ll continue to write about and plead the case internally. However, I worry that I’ve blown my one chance to get things right. I know my colleagues who produce visual designs also may feel this way, but I also think it’s a more acute problem for digital accessibility. I also don’t think that this sort of situation is one that’s talked about that often in accessibility spaces, hence me writing about it. This is to say nothing about quantifying it, either. Centering I’m pretty proud of what we accomplished, but those feelings are moot if all this effort does not serve the people it was intended to. It’s also not about me. Our efforts to be more inclusive may ironically work against us here. How much churn is the point where it’s too much and people are pushed away? To that point, feedback helps. Constructive reports on access barriers and friction are something that can bypass the internal perception of the things I’ve outlined as being seen as non-problems. I am twice heartened when I see reports. First, it is a signal that means someone is still present and cares. Second, there has been renewed internal interest in investing in acting on these user-reported accessibility problems. The work never stops This post is about interactive lists on GitHub, and how to use them. It’s also about: The responsibilities, pressures, and politics of creating complex components like the interactive list and ensuring they are accessible, How these types of components affect the larger, holistic experience of GitHub as a whole, The need to ensure these components actually work for the people they serve, and The value of providing feedback if they don’t. These are powerful things to internalize if you also do this sort of work, but also valuable to keep in mind if you don’t. The have served me well in my journey at GitHub, and I hope they help to serve you too.

2 months ago 18 votes
Don’t forget to localize your icons

Former United States president and war criminal George W. Bush gave a speech in Australia, directing a v-for-victory hand gesture at the assembled crowd. It wasn’t received the way he intended. What he failed to realize is that this gesture means a lot of different things to a lot different people. In Australia, the v-for-victory gesture means the same as giving someone the middle finger in the United States. This is all to say that localization is difficult. Localizing your app, web app, or website is more than just running all your text through Google Translate and hoping for the best. Creating effective, trustworthy communication with language communities means doing the work to make sure your content meets them where they are. A big part of this is learning about, and incorporating cultural norms into your efforts. Doing so will help you avoid committing any number of unintentional faux pas. In this best case scenario these goofs will create an awkward and potentially funny outcome: In the worst case, it will eradicate any sense of trust you’re attempting to build. Trust There is no magic number for how many mistranslated pieces of content flips the switch from tolerant bemusement to mistrust and anger. Each person running into these mistakes has a different tolerance threshold. Additionally, that threshold is also variable depending on factors such as level of stress, seriousness of the task at hand, prior interactions, etc. If you’re operating a business, loss of trust may mean less sales. Loss of trust may have far more serious ramifications if it’s a government service. Let’s also not forget that it is language communities and not individuals. Word-of-mouth does a lot of heavy lifting here, especially for underserved and historically discriminated-against populations. To that point, reputational harm is also a thing you need to contend with. Because of this, we need to remember all the things that are frequently left out of translation and localization efforts. For this post, I’d like to focus on icons. Iconic We tend to think of icons as immutable glyphs whose metaphors convey platonic functionality and purpose. A little box with an abstract mountain and a rising sun? I bet that lets you insert a picture. And how about a right-facing triangle? Five dollars says it plays something. However, these metaphors start to fall apart when not handled with care and discretion. If your imagery is too abstract it might not read the way it is intended to, especially for more obscure or niche functionality. Transit. Similarly, objects or concepts that don’t exist in the demographics you are serving won’t directly translate well. It will take work, but the results can be amazing. An exellent example of accommodation is Firefox OS’ localization efforts with the Fula people. Culture impacts how icons are interpreted, understood, and used, just like all other content. Here, I’d specifically like to call attention to three commonly-found icons whose meanings can be vasty different depending on the person using them. I would also like to highlight something that all three of these icons have in common: they use hand gestures to represent functionality. This makes a lot of sense! Us humans have been using our hands to communicate things for about as long as humanity itself has existed. It’s natural to take this communication and apply it to a digital medium. That said, we also need to acknowledge that due to their widespread use that these gestures—and therefore the icons that use them—can be interpreted differently by cultures and language communities that are different than the one who added the icons to the experience. The three icons themselves are thumb’s up, thumb’s down, and the okay hand symbol. Let’s unpack them: Thumb’s up What it’s intended to be used for This icon usually means expressing favor for something. It is typically also a tally, used as a signal for how popular the content is with an audience. Facebook did a lot of heavy lifting here with its Like button. In the same breath I’d also like to say that Facebook is a great example of how ignoring culture when serving a global audience can lead to disastrous outcomes. Who could be insulted by it In addition to expressing favor or approval, a thumb’s up can also be insulting in cultures originating from the following regions (not a comprehensive list): Bangladesh, Some parts of West Africa, Iran, Iraq, Afganistan, Some parts of Russia, Some parts of Latin America, and Australia, if you also waggle it up and down. It was also not a great gesture to be on the receiving end of in Rome, specifically if you were a downed gladiator at the mercy of the crowd. What you could use instead If it’s a binary “I like this/I don’t like this” choice, consider symbols like stars and hearts. Sparkles are out, because AI has ruined them. I’m also quite partial to just naming the action—after all the best icon is a text label. Thumb’s down What it’s intended to be used for This icon is commonly paired with a thumb’s up as part of a tally-based rating system. People can express their dislike of the content, which in turn can signal if the content failed to find a welcome reception. Who could be insulted by it A thumb’s down has a near-universal negative connotation, even in cultures where its use is intentional. It is also straight-up insulting in Japan. It may also have gang-related connotations. I’m hesitant to comment on that given how prevalent misinformation is about that sort of thing, but it’s also a good reminder of how symbolism can be adapted in ways we may not initially consider outside of “traditional” channels. Like the thumb’s up gesture, this is also not a comprehensive list. I’m a designer, not an ethnographic researcher. What you could use instead Consider removing outrage-based metrics. They’re easy to abuse and subvert, exploitative, and not psychologically healthy. If you well and truly need that quant data consider going with a rating scale instead of a combination of thumb’s up and thumb’s down icons. You might also want to consider ditching rating all together if you want people to actually read your content, or if you want to encourage more diversity of expression. Okay What it’s intended to be used for This symbol is usually used to represent acceptance or approval. Who could be insulted by it People from Greece may take offense to an okay hand symbol. The gesture might have also offended people in France and Spain when performed by hand, but that may have passed. Who could be threatened by it The okay hand sign has also been subverted by 4chan and co-opted by the White supremacy movement. An okay hand sign’s presence could be read as a threat by a population who is targeted by White supremacist hate. Here, it could be someone using it without knowing. It could also be a dogwhistle put in place by either a bad actor within an organization, or the entire organization itself. Thanks to the problem of other minds, the person on the receiving end cannot be sure about the underlying intent. Because of this, the safest option is to just up and leave. What you could use instead Terms like “I understand”, “I accept”, and “acknowledged” all work well here. I’d also be wary of using checkmarks, in that their meaning also isn’t a guarantee. So, what symbols can I use? There is no one true answer here, only degrees of certainty. Knowing what ideas, terms, and images are understood, accepted by, or offend a culture requires doing research. There is also the fact that the interpretation of these symbols can change over time. For this fact, I’d like to point out that pejorative imagery can sometimes become accepted due to constant, unending mass exposure. We won’t go back to using a Swastika to indicate good luck any time soon. However, the homogenization effect of the web’s implicit Western bias means that things like thumb’s up icons everywhere is just something people begrudgingly get used to. This doesn’t mean that we have to capitulate, however! Adapting your iconography to meet a language culture where it’s at can go a long way to demonstrating deep care. Just be sure that the rest of your localization efforts match the care you put into your icons and images. Otherwise it will leave the experience feeling off. An example of this is using imagery that feels natural in the language culture you’re serving, but having awkward and stilted text content. This disharmonious mismatch in tone will be noticed and felt, even if it isn’t concretely tied to any one thing. Different things mean different things in different ways Effective, clear communication that is interpreted as intended is a complicated thing to do. This gets even more intricate when factors like language, culture, and community enter the mix. Taking the time to do research, and also perform outreach to the communities you wish to communicate with can take a lot of work. But doing so will lead to better experiences, and therefore outcomes for all involved. Take stock of the images and icons you use as you undertake, or revisit your localization efforts. There may be more to it than you initially thought.

3 months ago 30 votes

More in programming

Stick with the customer

One of the biggest mistakes that new startup founders make is trying to get away from the customer-facing roles too early. Whether it's customer support or it's sales, it's an incredible advantage to have the founders doing that work directly, and for much longer than they find comfortable. The absolute worst thing you can do is hire a sales person or a customer service agent too early. You'll miss all the golden nuggets that customers throw at you for free when they're rejecting your pitch or complaining about the product. Seeing these reasons paraphrased or summarized destroy all the nutrients in their insights. You want that whole-grain feedback straight from the customers' mouth!  When we launched Basecamp in 2004, Jason was doing all the customer service himself. And he kept doing it like that for three years!! By the time we hired our first customer service agent, Jason was doing 150 emails/day. The business was doing millions of dollars in ARR. And Basecamp got infinitely, better both as a market proposition and as a product, because Jason could funnel all that feedback into decisions and positioning. For a long time after that, we did "Everyone on Support". Frequently rotating programmers, designers, and founders through a day of answering emails directly to customers. The dividends of doing this were almost as high as having Jason run it all in the early years. We fixed an incredible number of minor niggles and annoying bugs because programmers found it easier to solve the problem than to apologize for why it was there. It's not easy doing this! Customers often offer their valuable insights wrapped in rude language, unreasonable demands, and bad suggestions. That's why many founders quit the business of dealing with them at the first opportunity. That's why few companies ever do "Everyone On Support". That's why there's such eagerness to reduce support to an AI-only interaction. But quitting dealing with customers early, not just in support but also in sales, is an incredible handicap for any startup. You don't have to do everything that every customer demands of you, but you should certainly listen to them. And you can't listen well if the sound is being muffled by early layers of indirection.

12 hours ago 3 votes
It’s cool to care

I’m sitting in a small coffee shop in Brooklyn. I have a warm drink, and it’s just started to snow outside. I’m visiting New York to see Operation Mincemeat on Broadway – I was at the dress rehearsal yesterday, and I’ll be at the opening preview tonight. I’ve seen this show more times than I care to count, and I hope US theater-goers love it as much as Brits. The people who make the show will tell you that it’s about a bunch of misfits who thought they could do something ridiculous, who had the audacity to believe in something unlikely. That’s certainly one way to see it. The musical tells the true story of a group of British spies who tried to fool Hitler with a dead body, fake papers, and an outrageous plan that could easily have failed. Decades later, the show’s creators would mirror that same spirit of unlikely ambition. Four friends, armed with their creativity, determination, and a wardrobe full of hats, created a new musical in a small London theatre. And after a series of transfers, they’re about to open the show under the bright lights of Broadway. But when I watch the show, I see a story about friendship. It’s about how we need our friends to help us, to inspire us, to push us to be the best versions of ourselves. I see the swaggering leader who needs a team to help him truly achieve. The nervous scientist who stands up for himself with the support of his friends. The enthusiastic secretary who learns wisdom and resilience from her elder. And so, I suppose, it’s fitting that I’m not in New York on my own. I’m here with friends – dozens of wonderful people who I met through this ridiculous show. At first, I was just an audience member. I sat in my seat, I watched the show, and I laughed and cried with equal measure. After the show, I waited at stage door to thank the cast. Then I came to see the show a second time. And a third. And a fourth. After a few trips, I started to see familiar faces waiting with me at stage door. So before the cast came out, we started chatting. Those conversations became a Twitter community, then a Discord, then a WhatsApp. We swapped fan art, merch, and stories of our favourite moments. We went to other shows together, and we hung out outside the theatre. I spent New Year’s Eve with a few of these friends, sitting on somebody’s floor and laughing about a bowl of limes like it was the funniest thing in the world. And now we’re together in New York. Meeting this kind, funny, and creative group of people might seem as unlikely as the premise of Mincemeat itself. But I believed it was possible, and here we are. I feel so lucky to have met these people, to take this ridiculous trip, to share these precious days with them. I know what a privilege this is – the time, the money, the ability to say let’s do this and make it happen. How many people can gather a dozen friends for even a single evening, let alone a trip halfway round the world? You might think it’s silly to travel this far for a theatre show, especially one we’ve seen plenty of times in London. Some people would never see the same show twice, and most of us are comfortably into double or triple-figures. Whenever somebody asks why, I don’t have a good answer. Because it’s fun? Because it’s moving? Because I enjoy it? I feel the need to justify it, as if there’s some logical reason that will make all of this okay. But maybe I don’t have to. Maybe joy doesn’t need justification. A theatre show doesn’t happen without people who care. Neither does a friendship. So much of our culture tells us that it’s not cool to care. It’s better to be detached, dismissive, disinterested. Enthusiasm is cringe. Sincerity is weakness. I’ve certainly felt that pressure – the urge to play it cool, to pretend I’m above it all. To act as if I only enjoy something a “normal” amount. Well, fuck that. I don’t know where the drive to be detached comes from. Maybe it’s to protect ourselves, a way to guard against disappointment. Maybe it’s to seem sophisticated, as if having passions makes us childish or less mature. Or perhaps it’s about control – if we stay detached, we never have to depend on others, we never have to trust in something bigger than ourselves. Being detached means you can’t get hurt – but you’ll also miss out on so much joy. I’m a big fan of being a big fan of things. So many of the best things in my life have come from caring, from letting myself be involved, from finding people who are a big fan of the same things as me. If I pretended not to care, I wouldn’t have any of that. Caring – deeply, foolishly, vulnerably – is how I connect with people. My friends and I care about this show, we care about each other, and we care about our joy. That care and love for each other is what brought us together, and without it we wouldn’t be here in this city. I know this is a once-in-a-lifetime trip. So many stars had to align – for us to meet, for the show we love to be successful, for us to be able to travel together. But if we didn’t care, none of those stars would have aligned. I know so many other friends who would have loved to be here but can’t be, for all kinds of reasons. Their absence isn’t for lack of caring, and they want the show to do well whether or not they’re here. I know they care, and that’s the important thing. To butcher Tennyson: I think it’s better to care about something you cannot affect, than to care about nothing at all. In a world that’s full of cynicism and spite and hatred, I feel that now more than ever. I’d recommend you go to the show if you haven’t already, but that’s not really the point of this post. Maybe you’ve already seen Operation Mincemeat, and it wasn’t for you. Maybe you’re not a theatre kid. Maybe you aren’t into musicals, or history, or war stories. That’s okay. I don’t mind if you care about different things to me. (Imagine how boring the world would be if we all cared about the same things!) But I want you to care about something. I want you to find it, find people who care about it too, and hold on to them. Because right now, in this city, with these people, at this show? I’m so glad I did. And I hope you find that sort of happiness too. Some of the people who made this trip special. Photo by Chloe, and taken from her Twitter. Timing note: I wrote this on February 15th, but I delayed posting it because I didn’t want to highlight the fact I was away from home. [If the formatting of this post looks odd in your feed reader, visit the original article]

7 hours ago 2 votes
Humanity's Last Exam

Humanity's Last Exam by Center for AI Safety (CAIS) and Scale AI

yesterday 5 votes
When to give up

Most of our cultural virtues, celebrated heroes, and catchy slogans align with the idea of "never give up". That's a good default! Most people are inclined to give up too easily, as soon as the going gets hard. But it's also worth remembering that sometimes you really should fold, admit defeat, and accept that your plan didn't work out. But how to distinguish between a bad plan and insufficient effort? It's not easy. Plenty of plans look foolish at first glance, especially to people without skin in the game. That's the essence of a disruptive startup: The idea ought to look a bit daft at first glance or it probably doesn't carry the counter-intuitive kernel needed to really pop. Yet it's also obviously true that not every daft idea holds the potential to be a disruptive startup. That's why even the best venture capital investors in the world are wrong far more than they're right. Not because they aren't smart, but because nobody is smart enough to predict (the disruption of) the future consistently. The best they can do is make long bets, and then hope enough of them pay off to fund the ones that don't. So far, so logical, so conventional. A million words have been written by a million VCs about how their shrewd eyes let them see those hidden disruptive kernels before anyone else could. Good for them. What I'm more interested in knowing more about is how and when you pivot from a promising bet to folding your hand. When do you accept that no amount of additional effort is going to get that turkey to soar? I'm asking because I don't have any great heuristics here, and I'd really like to know! Because the ability to fold your hand, and live to play your remaining chips another day, isn't just about startups. It's also about individual projects. It's about work methods. Hell, it's even about politics and societies at large. I'll give you just one small example. In 2017, Rails 5.1 shipped with new tooling for doing end-to-end system tests, using a headless browser to validate the functionality, as a user would in their own browser. Since then, we've spent an enormous amount of time and effort trying to make this approach work. Far too much time, if you ask me now. This year, we finished our decision to fold, and to give up on using these types of system tests on the scale we had previously thought made sense. In fact, just last week, we deleted 5,000 lines of code from the Basecamp code base by dropping literally all the system tests that we had carried so diligently for all these years. I really like this example, because it draws parallels to investing and entrepreneurship so well. The problem with our approach to system tests wasn't that it didn't work at all. If that had been the case, bailing on the approach would have been a no brainer long ago. The trouble was that it sorta-kinda did work! Some of the time. With great effort. But ultimately wasn't worth the squeeze. I've seen this trap snap on startups time and again. The idea finds some traction. Enough for the founders to muddle through for years and years. Stuck with an idea that sorta-kinda does work, but not well enough to be worth a decade of their life. That's a tragic trap. The only antidote I've found to this on the development side is time boxing. Programmers are just as liable as anyone to believe a flawed design can work if given just a bit more time. And then a bit more. And then just double of what we've already spent. The time box provides a hard stop. In Shape Up, it's six weeks. Do or die. Ship or don't. That works. But what's the right amount of time to give a startup or a methodology or a societal policy? There's obviously no universal answer, but I'd argue that whatever the answer, it's "less than you think, less than you want". Having the grit to stick with the effort when the going gets hard is a key trait of successful people. But having the humility to give up on good bets turned bad might be just as important.

yesterday 4 votes
Five Kinds of Nondeterminism

No newsletter next week, I'm teaching a TLA+ workshop. Speaking of which: I spend a lot of time thinking about formal methods (and TLA+ specifically) because it's where the source of almost all my revenue. But I don't share most of the details because 90% of my readers don't use FM and never will. I think it's more interesting to talk about ideas from FM that would be useful to people outside that field. For example, the idea of "property strength" translates to the idea that some tests are stronger than others. Another possible export is how FM approaches nondeterminism. A nondeterministic algorithm is one that, from the same starting conditions, has multiple possible outputs. This is nondeterministic: # Pseudocode def f() { return rand()+1; } When specifying systems, I may not encounter nondeterminism more often than in real systems, but I am definitely more aware of its presence. Modeling nondeterminism is a core part of formal specification. I mentally categorize nondeterminism into five buckets. Caveat, this is specifically about nondeterminism from the perspective of system modeling, not computer science as a whole. If I tried to include stuff on NFAs and amb operations this would be twice as long.1 1. True Randomness Programs that literally make calls to a random function and then use the results. This the simplest type of nondeterminism and one of the most ubiquitous. Most of the time, random isn't truly nondeterministic. Most of the time computer randomness is actually pseudorandom, meaning we seed a deterministic algorithm that behaves "randomly-enough" for some use. You could "lift" a nondeterministic random function into a deterministic one by adding a fixed seed to the starting state. # Python from random import random, seed def f(x): seed(x) return random() >>> f(3) 0.23796462709189137 >>> f(3) 0.23796462709189137 Often we don't do this because the point of randomness is to provide nondeterminism! We deliberately abstract out the starting state of the seed from our program, because it's easier to think about it as locally nondeterministic. (There's also "true" randomness, like using thermal noise as an entropy source, which I think are mainly used for cryptography and seeding PRNGs.) Most formal specification languages don't deal with randomness (though some deal with probability more broadly). Instead, we treat it as a nondeterministic choice: # software if rand > 0.001 then return a else crash # specification either return a or crash This is because we're looking at worst-case scenarios, so it doesn't matter if crash happens 50% of the time or 0.0001% of the time, it's still possible. 2. Concurrency # Pseudocode global x = 1, y = 0; def thread1() { x++; x++; x++; } def thread2() { y := x; } If thread1() and thread2() run sequentially, then (assuming the sequence is fixed) the final value of y is deterministic. If the two functions are started and run simultaneously, then depending on when thread2 executes y can be 1, 2, 3, or 4. Both functions are locally sequential, but running them concurrently leads to global nondeterminism. Concurrency is arguably the most dramatic source of nondeterminism. Small amounts of concurrency lead to huge explosions in the state space. We have words for the specific kinds of nondeterminism caused by concurrency, like "race condition" and "dirty write". Often we think about it as a separate topic from nondeterminism. To some extent it "overshadows" the other kinds: I have a much easier time teaching students about concurrency in models than nondeterminism in models. Many formal specification languages have special syntax/machinery for the concurrent aspects of a system, and generic syntax for other kinds of nondeterminism. In P that's choose. Others don't special-case concurrency, instead representing as it as nondeterministic choices by a global coordinator. This more flexible but also more inconvenient, as you have to implement process-local sequencing code yourself. 3. User Input One of the most famous and influential programming books is The C Programming Language by Kernighan and Ritchie. The first example of a nondeterministic program appears on page 14: For the newsletter readers who get text only emails,2 here's the program: #include /* copy input to output; 1st version */ main() { int c; c = getchar(); while (c != EOF) { putchar(c); c = getchar(); } } Yup, that's nondeterministic. Because the user can enter any string, any call of main() could have any output, meaning the number of possible outcomes is infinity. Okay that seems a little cheap, and I think it's because we tend to think of determinism in terms of how the user experiences the program. Yes, main() has an infinite number of user inputs, but for each input the user will experience only one possible output. It starts to feel more nondeterministic when modeling a long-standing system that's reacting to user input, for example a server that runs a script whenever the user uploads a file. This can be modeled with nondeterminism and concurrency: We have one execution that's the system, and one nondeterministic execution that represents the effects of our user. (One intrusive thought I sometimes have: any "yes/no" dialogue actually has three outcomes: yes, no, or the user getting up and walking away without picking a choice, permanently stalling the execution.) 4. External forces The more general version of "user input": anything where either 1) some part of the execution outcome depends on retrieving external information, or 2) the external world can change some state outside of your system. I call the distinction between internal and external components of the system the world and the machine. Simple examples: code that at some point reads an external temperature sensor. Unrelated code running on a system which quits programs if it gets too hot. API requests to a third party vendor. Code processing files but users can delete files before the script gets to them. Like with PRNGs, some of these cases don't have to be nondeterministic; we can argue that "the temperature" should be a virtual input into the function. Like with PRNGs, we treat it as nondeterministic because it's useful to think in that way. Also, what if the temperature changes between starting a function and reading it? External forces are also a source of nondeterminism as uncertainty. Measurements in the real world often comes with errors, so repeating a measurement twice can give two different answers. Sometimes operations fail for no discernable reason, or for a non-programmatic reason (like something physically blocks the sensor). All of these situations can be modeled in the same way as user input: a concurrent execution making nondeterministic choices. 5. Abstraction This is where nondeterminism in system models and in "real software" differ the most. I said earlier that pseudorandomness is arguably deterministic, but we abstract it into nondeterminism. More generally, nondeterminism hides implementation details of deterministic processes. In one consulting project, we had a machine that received a message, parsed a lot of data from the message, went into a complicated workflow, and then entered one of three states. The final state was totally deterministic on the content of the message, but the actual process of determining that final state took tons and tons of code. None of that mattered at the scope we were modeling, so we abstracted it all away: "on receiving message, nondeterministically enter state A, B, or C." Doing this makes the system easier to model. It also makes the model more sensitive to possible errors. What if the workflow is bugged and sends us to the wrong state? That's already covered by the nondeterministic choice! Nondeterministic abstraction gives us the potential to pick the worst-case scenario for our system, so we can prove it's robust even under those conditions. I know I beat the "nondeterminism as abstraction" drum a whole lot but that's because it's the insight from formal methods I personally value the most, that nondeterminism is a powerful tool to simplify reasoning about things. You can see the same approach in how I approach modeling users and external forces: complex realities black-boxed and simplified into nondeterministic forces on the system. Anyway, I hope this collection of ideas I got from formal methods are useful to my broader readership. Lemme know if it somehow helps you out! I realized after writing this that I already talked wrote an essay about nondeterminism in formal specification just under a year ago. I hope this one covers enough new ground to be interesting! ↩ There is a surprising number of you. ↩

2 days ago 7 votes