Konfabulations on widgets in Mac OS

Software

In a recent post, Apple Should Bring Back Dashboard, Stephen Hackett expresses his wish for Dashboard to make a reappearance in Mac OS:

Apple killed off Dashboard at exactly the wrong time. Just one year after Catalina killed Dashboard, Apple started allowing developers to bring their iOS widgets over to the Mac in macOS Big Sur. Sadly, they all got stuffed into the slide-out Notification Center user interface[.]

Notification Center is a real mess. Even on a Pro Display XDR, you get three visible notifications. That’s it. Anything older is hidden behind a button, regardless of how many widgets you may have in the lower section of the Notification Center column[.]

Apple needs to rethink this and let this new class of widgets breathe, being able to use the entire screen like the widgets of yore could. Bringing back Dashboard is an obvious solution here, and I’d love to see it make a return.

I remember being excited and fascinated by Dashboard when it made its debut back then with Mac OS X 10.4 Tiger. I remember spending quite a lot of time perusing the Dashboard widgets page on Apple’s website to look for more widgets to add to my collection. I used Dashboard and its widgets quite a lot in the Tiger-Leopard era. In a sense, when the iPhone’s user interface was demoed in January 2007, one of the things that made me instantly love it is that certain apps and interactions fondly reminded me of Dashboard widgets. The Dock in iPhone OS was basically the Dashboard ‘dock’ in its first iterations.

The usefulness of Dashboard and the concept of the ‘desk accessory’ or widget started waning for me as soon as I got my first iPhone in 2008. Ironically enough, for many quick tasks and quick information retrieval, the iPhone has become the tangible desk accessory. In a way, fetching the smartphone to check things like the weather forecast, the status of a package that I should receive soon, or to make a calculation or unit conversion, is less disruptive of the workflow I’m having on the Mac than having an overlay or a dedicated space within the Mac UI itself.

But putting my habits aside for the moment, let’s focus on how widget management could work on the Mac, as it’s a good UI exercise. The crucial aspect to consider, then, is this: where to place widgets? How to handle them is important, too, but the ‘how to handle them’ aspect is intrinsically tied to where they should appear and be placed.

Before Dashboard, there was Konfabulator (those who didn’t know now understand the strange wording of this piece’s title). Konfabulator was an application that, once executed, remained accessible from the menu bar as a menu extra. Its initial offering of a handful of default widgets could be extended by downloading third-party ones created with the same engine.

Konfabulator 1.8 onboarding

Konfabulator 1.8 for Mac — Onboarding

 

Here’s a screenshot of the Widgets folder created by Konfabulator 1.8 with the default widgets that came with it:

Konfabulator Widgets folder

Konfabulator Widgets folder

 

And here’s how some of them look on my iBook G3’s desktop:

iBook G3 desktop with widgets

The Konfabulator menu extra is that icon with the gears.

 

Konfabulator’s approach was to embed the widgets in the desktop itself, where they remained, beneath all open windows and apps, always ready to be glanced at when needed, and existing rather unobtrusively when not. If you needed to customise them, you could do so by using the Konfabulator menu extra or by right-clicking on them directly.

I liked them. They looked great. And some were indeed useful. But as you can see from the screenshot above, if you had a Mac laptop at the time, with relatively limited screen real estate, your desktop would get crowded very soon. That may not be a problem in itself, but it’s cumulative when you also have a lot of applications and windows open, and you also like to keep all the important stuff (files, folders, aliases) on your desktop.

Also: widgets don’t all work the same way. There are widgets that display information you want to constantly keep an eye on (such as a CPU/RAM monitor or a network monitor); widgets that serve as controllers for certain apps (like the iTunes mini-player); and widgets you only need to consult occasionally (say, a calculator, dictionary, or weather widget). So, you’ll probably want to keep some widgets permanently visible, while some other widgets you’d like to be easily invoked on demand.

An approach like Konfabulator’s favours the placement of static widgets. While adding/removing widgets isn’t cumbersome in itself, the operation of adding a widget to just glance at its information for 5 seconds to then put it away becomes clunky quickly.

A similar approach can also be seen in Panic’s Stattoo, an app developed in 2004–2006 that certainly didn’t want to replace Konfabulator or Dashboard, but whose idea was to offer a limited selection of widgets that could be placed on your desktop and display useful information like weather, date/time, battery status, song playing in iTunes, email headers, even RSS feeds.

Stattoo

Panic’s Stattoo — widget setup

Like Konfabulator, the selected widgets stayed on the desktop, always visible but in background, of course, so as not to interfere with other apps, windows, and items on the desktop.

 

Dashboard in Mac OS X Tiger

Dashboard’s UI when it debuted in Mac OS X 10.4 Tiger. (Image source: Ars Technica)

Dashboard’s approach was different. The widgets you chose were placed on a transparent layer which — when invoked via a keyboard shortcut — would appear as an overlay on the desktop. This kind of approach tends to favour the use of those widgets you need to just glance at every now and then, over the widgets you’d like to monitor more frequently, but it’s overall more versatile. Given how quickly you could jump in and out of Dashboard, it was easy to keep an eye on things with CPU or Network monitor widgets by frequently tapping F12 (the default shortcut for Dashboard) or the dedicated Dashboard key on certain Apple keyboards. And if you really needed a Dashboard widget to be permanently visible even outside Dashboard, you could use this tip from Mac OS X Hints to do exactly that. This bit from Rob Griffiths’ additional note is worth quoting:

[…] I find it extremely useful — there are certain widgets that you’d just rather see and use all the time, instead of only in Dashboard mode. Note that the widgets float above all windows, so this trick is most useful if you have some spare desktop space.

Another bit that’s worth quoting is this one, by John Siracusa, from his review/essay on Mac OS X Tiger at Ars Technica:

I have one big complaint. Apple has unnecessarily linked two good ideas in Dashboard: the widgets themselves, and the Exposé-style layer where they live. While I really love the idea of a separate window layer for infrequently used items, I’m extremely disappointed that only Dashboard widgets can live there. To a lesser extent, I’m also disappointed that Dashboard widgets can’t be interleaved with regular windows, float on top of all windows, or be embedded in the desktop like Konfabulator widgets can.

I’d like to be able to put any application in the Dashboard layer, and I’d like to be able to pull widgets out of it and place them anywhere I want. This would require rethinking the Dashboard UI a bit (e.g., providing an active menu bar in the Dashboard layer) but I think the benefits would be well worth it.

Observations like these really make you wonder about what would be the best widget placement/interaction model. My impression is that the one that could meet the most disparate user needs would be tricky to design, UI-wise. Imagine an overlay implementation like Apple’s Dashboard, but with widgets that can be freely detached from such overlay and placed on the desktop with the flexibility proposed by Siracusa. How to make all the necessary interactions intuitively discoverable by the user? Tooltips that appear on first use and that can be subsequently toggled or dismissed? These are tricky little details to implement. Even Control Centre on iOS can only be customised by accessing the Settings app instead of via direct manipulation of the controls on the pane itself.

One thing is certain: the current implementation of widgets on the Mac is just poor. It’s bare-bones, it’s stiff, severely limited, and the idea to make them appear in the same interface as Notification Centre (to mimic the behaviour on iOS) is simply misguided. Whatever your Mac’s screen size, you get an unnecessarily cramped interface that feels like the worst of both worlds (Notifications and Widgets), as there is insufficient breathing room for each, and one seems to constantly get in the way of the other.

The original Apple’s Dashboard seems to have the most versatile of all these approaches, if you count the little ‘hack’ suggested in that old Mac OS X Hints entry. By the way, starting with Mac OS X 10.7 Lion, Dashboard could also be configured as a space instead of a transparent overlay, but I never found this option to be particularly appealing or effective. Mind you, this is a wholly subjective remark; I’m sure having Dashboard widgets on a dedicated space worked for some people. It didn’t work for me because I’ve always wanted widgets to come to me instead of having to go to them by jumping to their space. It’s subtle, but a single shortcut key (F12) is quicker than hitting Ctrl+(space number); more importantly, by having widgets appear on a transparent overlay you can still keep an eye on what’s going on underneath, or even reference it when you’re interacting with a widget. Simple example: you’re looking at an email attachment of a detailed invoice and you want to verify whether the total amount is correct. You invoke Dashboard and use the Calculator widget, and you can input the figures you’re still able to see underneath the overlay.

To conclude, would I want to see a return of Dashboard as it was before being removed by Apple? I’d certainly want an updated solution for widget management, because the current one is inadequate. As a recap, I think it should have the following characteristics:

  • It should be utterly separated from Notification Centre. Widgets and Notifications are entities that need screen real estate to be really effective, and both demand complex interactions. Having them share the same (meagre) space, and having them appear simultaneously when you need to consult either is just poor UI design.
  • It should work as an overlay or super-space, like the original Dashboard, more than a separate space you ‘visit’. Let the user control the opacity of the overlay, in case they don’t like transparency.
  • It should handle widgets in the flexible way John Siracusa wished Dashboard could handle them. Have them appear on their overlay by default, but make them detachable and let users place them at whatever level they want: desktop level, Finder window level, application window level, or constantly in the foreground above all other windows. You may find this flexibility to be a bit excessive, but again, depending on what kind of information a widget displays or what kind of user interactions it entails, the user could prefer a specific placement for such widget. This could also inspire the creation of widgets with very specific uses: imagine a widget you can attach to a Finder window, and it tells you how many JPG files are contained in the currently open folder. (It could be JPGs or whatever kind of file you’re interested in). It’s a basic example, but such flexibility could inspire so many cool, useful widgets.
  • It should have its own pane in System Preferences. Here, users could be reminded of the necessary gestures to handle widgets, customise shortcuts, and even customise the appearance of this ‘Widget Manager’.

Now, am I optimistic about something like this coming to a future Mac OS release? Of course I’m not. Just look at how Notifications management has visually regressed from Big Sur onward. Just look at how Apple appears to be hell-bent on making certain parts of the user interface work in the same way across operating systems, even when this forced consistency makes little sense. Just look at how brittle and disjointed the user interface flow is becoming especially in Mac OS. Designing a better Notifications interface and a better Widgets interface requires a meaningful rethinking and a commitment to good-design-that-works which Apple doesn’t seem particularly interested in, when you consider the direction Mac OS user interface has been taking after Mac OS 10.15 Catalina.

→ No more security updates for iOS 14

Handpicked

Juli Clover at MacRumors, writes:

Last week, MacRumors shared news that Apple had stopped releasing iOS 14 security updates and was pushing those still on iOS 14 to upgrade to iOS 15, an apparent reversal of a promise to allow users to stay on the iOS 14 operating system.

Apple today told Ars Technica that the option to stay on iOS 14 and avoid the iOS 15 upgrade was always meant to be temporary. It is not a mistake that there are no more security updates to iOS 14, and support for the update has essentially ended.

When iOS 15 was released, Apple’s feature page said that the company would provide a choice “between two software update versions” in the Settings app, and that it would offer security updates for iOS 14 until people were prepared to upgrade. 

Apple’s original wording was (emphasis mine):

You can update to the latest version of iOS 15 as soon as it’s released for the latest features and most complete set of security updates. Or continue on iOS 14 and still get important security updates until you’re ready to upgrade to the next major version.

Back to Clover:

When iOS 15 was released and this information was published, Apple did not make it clear that this was a temporary option, but the company in September 2021 did publish an updated support document that mentioned the option to stay on iOS 14 would be available “for a period of time.” 

And the new wording is:

If you’re using iOS or iPadOS 14.5 or later, you might now see the option to choose between two software update versions. This option allows you to choose between updating to the latest version of iOS or iPadOS 15 as soon as it’s released, or continuing on iOS or iPadOS 14 while still getting important security updates for a period of time.

In December, in my article When dropping support feels like sabotage, I was complaining that Apple was limiting the support of security updates to just the two previous versions of Mac OS, and not extending such support to even older versions like High Sierra or Mojave given the amount of people that are still using them. But I was forgetting that on iOS the situation is even worse.

And I think that dropping security support for anything but the newest iOS version is rather irresponsible, given the amount of security threats targeting mobile operating systems nowadays. Sure, it’s great that iOS 15 can be installed on devices as old as the iPhone 6S, and Apple can always respond that if you want to keep your older iOS device safe, you can do so simply by updating to iOS 15, but once you move away from the tech sphere orbit and enter the everyday world of regular people, things are never so clear-cut. There are still a lot of folks using older versions of iOS on their iPhones and iPads. Maybe they dismiss or don’t notice Apple’s periodical push notifications to update to the latest version. Maybe they have automatic updates disabled. Or, there are more tech-savvy users who still want to use certain apps they’ve come to rely on, apps that have ceased to work on newer iOS versions (or have been removed from the App Store, or whose development has stopped for whatever reason, etc.), and don’t want to update to iOS 15. 

Then there are people who have become increasingly hesitant about jumping on the latest iOS version as soon as it’s released. This is a trend I have noticed in my circles in the post-iOS 10 era. I think it must have been the general bugginess of iOS 11 what made people wary. I don’t know. But a lot of friends and acquaintances (and readers who have written me a considerable amount of emails in the past) have started to delay updating iOS, even waiting several months before finally doing it.

These are choices that should be respected, within reason of course. I’m not saying Apple should still publish security updates for iOS 9 and iOS 10 devices. But it wouldn’t hurt to adopt a policy similar to what they’re doing with the Mac — keep releasing at least the most crucial security patches for the two iOS versions prior to the latest one. The forgetful and non-tech-savvy users are also the most vulnerable to security threats, and Apple should do the decent thing and meet them halfway — protect their customers’ interests — instead of always having this indirect way of demanding customers to adapt to whatever decision or stance the company comes up with.

In my article When dropping support feels like sabotage, I wrote:

As I’ve often pointed out, Apple’s behaviour — at least for an outside observer — is to adopt the course that’s more convenient for them. The course that makes things easier for them to manage, streamline, deploy. It’s all very opinionated. It’s not a matter of costs or lack of resources, I don’t believe that for a second. Apple moves forward, doesn’t look back too much, and constantly nudges their users to do the same. 

This latest move keeps reinforcing this impression. When they wrote that you can “continue on iOS 14 and still get important security updates until you’re ready to upgrade to the next major version”, maybe there was the idea, behind the scenes, to open up to offering a sort of two-lane upgrade path. But it really feels that, at a certain point, someone in the chain of command said, “Nah, scratch that. Why bother. Make it temporary. Make them update.” 

I would be more tolerant of this kind of subtle blackmailing if Apple’s software quality were like it used to be circa ten years ago. Instead here I am, firmly staying off Apple’s treadmill until I decide I’m ready to upgrade. I’m sacrificing security in favour of general stability and using tried-and-true older versions of Mac OS and iOS made by people who know how to design user interfaces. Not an easy trade-off, I know, but at least I’m tech-savvy enough to deal with the consequences.

My year in the rearview mirror

Tech Life

In 1993 I could have been involved in a terrible car accident. I was the second car in queue at a big intersection. When the light turned green, the car before me hurriedly crossed and cleared the intersection. I followed suit: it was one of those high-volume traffic spots in the city where you’re subtly (or not so subtly) encouraged to move quickly and not dawdle too much. The moment I cleared the intersection I heard the loudest screeching and banging behind me. It startled me so much I struggled to maintain control of my car. I looked in the rearview mirror and more or less realised what had happened: another car, coming from the road crossing the one I was on, didn’t stop at the red light, cut through the intersection at mad speed, and hit the car right behind me with such force as to push it against the external brick wall of a factory about 300 metres off the intersection. 

I saw that in my rearview mirror. But it took me about a minute to fully process what had just happened. That’s when I had to stop at a petrol station nearby because I was shaking so much I couldn’t safely drive anymore. It could have been me, the thought kept echoing and rippling in my head for a good while. I don’t remember where I was going — it’s been so long — but I’m pretty sure I forgot where I was going right then and there on that almost-fateful late afternoon. For months thereafter the sound of an ambulance siren gave me chills and flashbacks.

I know that, in the grand scheme of things, going from 31 December of one year to 1 January of the following year is just a convention following a calendar established by someone a few centuries ago. Anyway, there have been years where this symbolic passage has reminded me of that near miss, 28 years ago. At times it’s not a perfect equivalence, because it’s like saying I nearly avoided a catastrophic year, when in fact 2021 did hit me rather forcefully. But it still remains like a shocking image in my rearview mirror, a mess I’m thankfully leaving behind.

Explaining why, in detail, is something that goes beyond the scope of a post on a blog. It’s something that ultimately becomes long-winded, uninteresting, and enters personal levels I don’t really feel like sharing with strangers on the Internet. As for what I can share, I’ll say that 2021 is starting to feel a lot like 2017. In 2017 I lost my father, rather unexpectedly, and that loss didn’t hit like a car — it hit like a bullet train. It destabilised me. It confused me. It crippled my creativity. It blocked me. And as I was starting to recover, here comes 2021 where I lose my mother, in a different way than my father, but again in an unexpected manner. 

When one of your parents passes away, you grieve, but you grieve together with the remaining parent, who also helps take care of all the bureaucracy and ‘business’ related to someone’s death. When you’re an only child and the remaining parent passes away, the overwhelmingness of it all feels even heavier. Even though I wasn’t alone in facing this terrible event, and had the help and support of a few dear people, I still had to go through a self-discipline routine to focus and tell myself I needed to do whatever had to be done one thing at time, one thing at a time, because you feel the sky falling down, falling down.

You can’t stay on top of everything

The fundamental thing that 2021 made me painfully aware of is that — unless you live a very simple life, or your life is made simple by the constant help of others — you can’t stay on top of everything.

I have resisted this for years. For years I’ve told myself I can take care of everything my work as translator and localisation specialist throws at me; that I can stay up-to-date on so many things related to technology, photography and other several interests I have (either for personal or work-related reasons); that I can carry out my day-to-day duties in the household; that I can stay creative and cultivate my fiction and literary projects; et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

In order to try to do all this, to serve this illusion, I’ve sacrificed hours of sleep, reconfigured my priorities on a daily basis to be malleable and versatile and adaptable. I’ve tried to do this smartly, not with that mindless relentlessness that sometimes overcomes you when you want to achieve a goal at all costs. The only thing I have truly achieved is getting this close to burnout. Or maybe I actually entered burnout territory for a while without realising it. I don’t know. But this — this really feels like the flashback I told you about at the beginning. This feels like a near miss where I’m watching the aftermath unfolding in my rearview mirror.

Age is a factor you can’t just ignore

There’s one aspect that especially baffles me in the way Internet and social media have impacted people’s behaviour. Today, I increasingly feel I’m interacting with fewer and fewer adults and more and more eternal adolescents. It’s like people have found this great, global, big toy in the Internet and related technologies, and don’t want to let it go because it gives them so many dopamine kicks; it gives them the illusion that they’re in full control of their lives and that they can stay on top of everything all the time; that they can hack the world and their own lives to fulfil a sense of forever-young-ness. It’s their own Matrix, their own blue pill.

But age is a factor you just can’t sweep under the rug because it’s not making you look cool. With age, the biggest thing you have to consider is the way you spend your time. Because sooner or later the thought will hit you, and hit you hard. Your time is finite, and when you stop and think of all the time you frittered away, you’ll tell yourself it felt like a good idea at the time, but that won’t really make the taste of regret fade away.

And here’s the thing: today, so many things are designed around us to keep us involved in this big global toy, in this time-wasting Matrix where a lot of people seem to live in a state of eternal adolescence, of forever-young-ness, of ‘it’s all a big exciting game’. Before you think I’m being a holier-than-thou Morpheus who tells Neo to ‘wake up’, know that I myself have fallen for this illusion for a relatively long time. And that it’s not just an illusion that touches on silly things and gamifies our lives only in the leisure department, but it also (and more dangerously) impacts our sense of productivity.

In other, simpler words: if you’re in your late forties you can’t expect to be productive and stay on top of everything like a twenty-something. You may be in good health, you may feel up to it, you may even manage to do it for a while, but the truth is it’s unhealthy. The whole culture around the idea of being a productivity rockstar, of being this relentless productivity machine fuelled by workaholism is simply destructive, and not even in the long run.

Another area where the age factor is overlooked is in the design of user interfaces. (You thought I couldn’t find a way to talk about user interfaces in this context, didn’t you?) I keep seeing this: user interface elements, targets, designs, paradigms that require users to have perfect vision, flawless reflexes, constant adaptability, and time to waste readjusting their workflows and relearning how to carry out the same stuff they were used to carrying out in an operating system, application, device, 2 or 3 iterations ago. Some designers keep making the same error I think Donald Norman talked about in his book The Design of Everyday Things — the mistake of thinking that their target users are like them. They’re not. Often, they’re people who just need to get things done without losing an entire morning trying to figure out how and why the application(s) they rely on for work have changed after the last update. Or they’re people who really need tooltips in an app’s interface in order to understand what that control with the obscure icon does; who really need obvious interface cues and affordances you’re desperately trying to spirit away because your application or environment doesn’t look clean, trendy, or minimalistic enough.

I’m not saying applications, interfaces, and operating systems shouldn’t change and evolve. Only that they should do so by actually taking into account that end users aren’t this homogeneous mass that moves in perfect sync with your fancy designs and redesigns. But the kind of approach to do things right by many different types of end user involves more work and a generally slower pace of development, which is a big no-no for the stupid breakneck pace technology wants to move — and wants us to move today. And this seamlessly brings me to my next point.

2021 left me weary again, tech-wise

I wanted to write more articles here in the past year. On several occasions life and work got in the way. But I’ve also realised that many of the articles I would have published would have ended up being rants about how disappointed and unenthusiastic I feel towards an increasing number of tech-related things. 

Lately I was afraid I was losing my enthusiasm for technology in general, no matter what, but that’s not true. There are still things that excite me and pique my interest, so that’s a good self-check. It means that I’m not becoming a bitter curmudgeon after all (though I know I sound like one every now and then). But today everything seems to revolve around Big Tech, and that’s wearing me down. I’m tired of Big Companies having an increasingly deeper control of our lives, I’m tired of people stupidly letting them have it, tired of arguing that no, Apple are not the good guys you think they are, only maybe the lesser evil.

And speaking of Apple, I’m tired of arguing with people who will defend the company whatever stunt they pull with their products or designs. Tired of being considered the crazy one because I think a computer display should not have a fucking notch in the middle of the top bezel. Tired of being considered averse to change only because I dare point out that a new design in an application just does away with years of usability research and tried-and-true practices that used to make the application very intuitive and self-evident in use.

This of course doesn’t mean I’m going to stop talking about these subjects and these issues. Only that I won’t pay too much attention to people whose interest clearly isn’t to be open-mindedly engaged in a conversation, but to just waste my time. And time is getting ever so precious to me. It’s an age thing, one day you’ll understand.

New Year’s resolutions

I have none. Nothing specific. I just want to move at my own pace, not at the pace dictated by someone else, or by some vague notion of ideal lifestyle, or of how to be a rockstar of productivity. Have you looked at actual rockstars once they’re past their prime? Yeah, not a pretty picture, generally speaking.

When dropped support feels like sabotage

Software

If you know me, you know I’m a packrat when it comes to older devices. Sometimes it’s for sentimental reasons, as silly as it may look to some. Sometimes I keep and/or acquire vintage devices on purpose because there’s something about them that fascinates me, or I feel it’s important for computing history reasons, or to study their user interface. Whatever the case may be, one thing I always do with such devices is to put them to good use, as I’m not the kind of collector who accumulates stuff to put it on display. 

So, when it comes to Apple mobile devices specifically, I still have older iPhones, iPads, and a few iPod touch models going back to iOS 4 and iPhone OS 3. Naturally, the uses of a first-generation iPod touch (2007) or iPhone 3G (2008) are quite limited today. Many applications have features that no longer work, or rely on discontinued APIs to communicate with related services, and are therefore practically useless (though I still open them every now and then to be reminded of how great certain user interfaces were on older iOS versions). 

But there are devices on slightly more modern iOS versions that keep retaining a certain degree of usefulness to me. In many respects, my first-generation iPad (2010) with iOS 5.1.1 is still a good device to use — remarkably more efficient and responsive than my third-generation iPad (2012) with iOS 9.3.5. And my fourth-generation iPod touch (2010) with iOS 6.1.6 is still very much in use: not only can I experience on a retina display the great user interface that iOS 6 had, but the extremely compact size of this iPod touch makes it a fantastic music player when I’m out and about, and when travelling it’s the main device I connect with a Libratone Bluetooth speaker and I have a very portable yet good-quality setup to listen to music.

And there’s more: both the iPad 1 and the iPod touch 4 can still run certain apps that have been discontinued, or run older versions of apps whose interface has worsened update after update, and so those older versions are still ‘the good ones’ in my eyes. Like Snapseed and Penultimate, to make a couple of examples off the top of my head.

Something I’ve been doing in recent years has been to occasionally go back to my catalogue of purchased apps and try to install some of the older ones, hoping to trigger the Download last compatible version feature. It has worked well: I can still use Microsoft’s OneNote app, the official Gmail app, or the excellent x2y by Joe Cieplinski on the iPod touch under iOS 6. These things make me happy because I feel that both the hardware and the software are not being wasted. Sure, they’re ancient devices by current tech nerd standards, but I prefer having them working on my desk or in my backpack or in my pockets, rather than thrown in an e‑waste bin where I’m not even sure whether they’re going to be fully recycled or not.

Well, long story short: it appears that recently (I don’t know exactly when, I just found out the other day) devices running iOS 5 and iOS 6 have stopped connecting to the App Store. Which means that I can no longer install older versions of apps I paid to use. Yes, I can still use those apps (some of those, at least) on more recent devices, but I should be able to install them wherever the hell I want.

Speaking of managing apps: until recently — let’s say a year ago or even less — I’ve used the last version of iTunes that lets you manage App Store apps. It’s version 12.6.5.3 and Apple still provides a separate download of it at this page. With this version I used to be able to keep purchasing iOS apps from the App Store, download them on my MacBook Pro, and install them on my iOS devices via a direct connection. This had the added benefit of letting me have a local copy of the app’s .ipa file so that I could quickly reinstall it in case I deleted the app from the device only to change my mind later. And whenever an app update was issued, I could copy the previous version of an app in a different folder, let iTunes download and update the app, and keep older versions backed up in case I didn’t like the changes in the app (often UI-related), or in case the update stopped supporting a previous version of iOS.

This was a great plan, though admittedly this backup strategy was only reserved for the apps I cared the most and utilised the most; otherwise things would have got cumbersome pretty quickly. Anyway this, too, doesn’t matter now, because for the past — uh, 10 months? — iTunes hasn’t been able to download anything from the iOS App Store. It still connects, I can still browse, and even go through my list of purchased apps, but I can’t purchase — download — install anything. Not even copies of purchased apps from iCloud.

When we talk about planned obsolescence we often refer to hardware: computers, devices, accessories. But what makes a device obsolete equally often is something that starts with the software. Features are dropped, certain operating system versions are no longer supported, certain functionalities are only recognised by newer versions (or even just the latest version) of the operating system. And while this may be justified in the case of smaller software companies and third-party indie developers who might not have the means to afford a deep level of backward compatibility, in my opinion it’s harder to excuse when bigger companies with many more resources are involved. And then there are very big companies making both hardware and software whose interest is for their customers to always — how can I put it? — to always be in the mood for upgrading their devices.

I can hear you loud and clear from here. But Rick, Apple is possibly the company that is most user-friendly when it comes to maintaining old devices functional! You can install iOS 15 on a device as old as the iPhone 6S from 2015! And like you said before, until recently you still were able to download and install apps on your iOS 5 and iOS 6 devices!

Yes, that’s great and all. But that’s not the kind of support I’m talking about. 

Why prevent iOS 5 and iOS 6 devices from accessing the App Store? The possible answer, Because it’s come the time to drop support for these old devices, leaves a lot to be desired. While I agree that currently more than 95% of iOS developers have long moved on, and finding apps that can still run on iOS 5 and 6 means stumbling on abandonware most of the times, one might want to still be able to access their purchased apps and download older versions that still run on older versions of iOS. Why remove that capability? 

If, for example, it’s a matter of updated Web security protocols that the vintage device cannot handle, then why not 1) let the user know, and 2) keep allowing iTunes 12.6.5.3 to manage iOS apps, so the user can still download and install their purchased apps from a Mac that can handle any updated Web security protocol that’s been put in place? 

Let’s make another example: why limit the support of security updates to just the two previous versions of Mac OS? There are still a lot of people running Mac OS 10.13 High Sierra and 10.14 Mojave. In a lot of professional environments, the actual Mac OS system upgrade doesn’t happen when Apple releases the new version of Mac OS; it happens when the third-party software companies making the applications or plug-ins a studio or a firm relies on, release an update or fix any compatibility issues with the new version of Mac OS (or the new Apple Silicon architecture). In these environments, users are not willing to screw up their production setups just to try out the shiny, buggy new version of Mac OS. This particular issue is exacerbated by the fact that Apple is releasing incredibly powerful Apple Silicon Macs aimed at these professionals among others, Macs that these professionals would purchase in a heartbeat, but they come with the latest version of Mac OS, and some of the software applications these professionals depend upon don’t work well (or even at all) with the latest version of Mac OS. But I’m digressing slightly here. The question remains: why not extend security coverage to at least one more previous version of Mac OS? What is so technically unsurmountable that prevents you from packaging for Mac OS 10.14 Mojave the same security patches you’re releasing for Mac OS 10.15 Catalina?

And another example: with iOS updates, why is the path always forward? Why not allow users to perform a clean, legitimate downgrade if they want to or need to? Back when iOS 9 came out, allowing the iPhone 4S and the third-generation iPad to update to it was a mistake, as iOS 9 impacted their performance noticeably. I was initially okay with iOS 9 on my iPad 3, but as time passed I regretted not staying on iOS 8.4.1. I would have loved to just be able to re-download iOS 8.4.1 and downgrade without hassle. And another thing: suppose you have an iPhone with iOS 12, you skip both iOS 13 and iOS 14, then iOS 15 comes out and nags you to update. If you do, your device will go from iOS 12 to the latest minor update of iOS 15. But what if for some reason you want to update from iOS 12 to iOS 14 instead? You can’t. Why? Because Apple. (You’re rolling your eyes and want a good reason why one would want that? How about to keep using a few great apps that you love and still want to use, but they got retired some time ago, and stopped working under iOS 15?)

Again, what is so technically unsurmountable that prevents Apple from providing an easy way to reinstall an earlier version of iOS on a device that can run it? 

I may be wrong, but the answer to all these questions is, Nothing, for it hardly looks like a technical issue. It’s a matter of policy. As I’ve often pointed out, Apple’s behaviour — at least for an outside observer — is to adopt the course that’s more convenient for them. The course that makes things easier for them to manage, streamline, deploy. It’s all very opinionated. It’s not a matter of costs or lack of resources, I don’t believe that for a second. Apple moves forward, doesn’t look back too much, and constantly nudges their users to do the same. So, Mac OS and iOS updates move forward, and your only alternative — if you don’t want to switch to another platform altogether — is to pause everything and step down from the Apple treadmill, to get back on it when you are ready. Non-Apple users often call Apple users sheep. It’s offensive, for sure, but increasingly often I’m left with the feeling that Apple treats their users just like that, behaving a bit like a shepherd dog.

Circling back to the title of this article, I’m aware that sabotage is a somewhat strong choice of word. I had no intention of writing a clickbaity title. It’s simply how I felt when I realised that my devices on iOS 5 and iOS 6 couldn’t access either the App Store or my Purchased apps; and how I felt a few months ago when I realised that I couldn’t use iTunes anymore to manage iOS apps, apart from the ones I’ve already downloaded (and thankfully stored) on my Macs over the years.

And I’m perfectly aware that some people will see this simply as a silly, whiny rant. They’ve perhaps joined the school of thought that considers software as a short-lived, disposable thing that has value until it works — strike that — until it’s allowed to work. Then who cares if the apps you paid money for can’t be used anymore on an older device that cost a non-trivial amount of money when you purchased it. And you know, shrugging and telling me that I bought that stuff years ago and it’s not worth getting worked up about it, is a reaction that would really open an interesting debate about what you value and what’s worth for you. I give tremendous value to software and to hardware that still works and still has a purpose. As I wrote in my previous piece On sideloading, I grew up in an era when software was just software and was valued very differently than today. It was software that cost more money but was also ‘allowed to work’ for longer. You were more in control of its lifespan, so to speak.

Well, my rant is over, make of it what you want. I needed to get this out of my system and I hope it’s been at least a little thought-provoking in the process.

On sideloading

Software

I usually take for granted that my audience is largely made of people who are tech-savvy enough to know what I’m talking about. But here’s the definition of sideloading taken from Wikipedia:

Sideloading describes the process of transferring files between two local devices, in particular between a personal computer and a mobile device such as a mobile phone, smartphone, PDA, tablet, portable media player or e‑reader.

Sideloading typically refers to media file transfer to a mobile device via USB, Bluetooth, WiFi or by writing to a memory card for insertion into the mobile device, but also applies to the transfer of apps from web sources that are not vendor-approved. 

The Epic vs Apple lawsuit has inspired a lot of points for debate regarding Apple’s App Store management and policies, and in general regarding Apple’s anticompetitive behaviours. The possibility that regulators, in Europe and elsewhere, could order Apple to allow any software application — not just those approved by Apple — to be installed on iOS devices has generated a rather polarised discussion. 

Apple, of course, is strongly against such a possibility, and has manifested its concerns several times, most recently having Craig Federighi give a speech at Web Summit 2021 in Lisbon, Portugal. Federighi has reiterated Apple’s angle, i.e. that allowing sideloading would be a catastrophic blow to customers’ security. Reading the afore-linked article by Ars Technica, I find Federighi’s framing of the issue quite a bit overkill: 

Sideloading is a cybercriminal’s best friend, and requiring that on the iPhone would be a gold rush for the malware industry… That one provision in the DMA [Digital Markets Act] could force every iPhone user into a landscape of professional con artists constantly trying to fool them. 

But of course you have to exaggerate the risks if you want to position yourself as the Guardian Angel of all your customers and users. You’ll never hear a longer lists of threats to your life as when an insurance company is trying to sell you a life insurance policy.

I grew up in an era when software was just software, and you could simply start typing a BASIC program into the computer and execute it. Generally speaking, it was an era when tinkering — both in hardware and software terms — was unhampered and even encouraged. Philosophically, I can’t be against sideloading. I actually dislike how the term’s connotation has been hijacked towards negativity. On the contrary, one should think of it in terms of freedom to install any compatible software available for a certain platform. 

But what about malware? Yes, in a completely open scenario, malware can indeed be a risk. But the problem, in my opinion, lies elsewhere. It lies in the tradition of treating end users like ignorant idiots instead of training them to separate the wheat from the chaff.

A bit of a long-winded interpolation on how base tech-savvy in users has developed and ultimately evolved over the past few decades

In the 1980s, when computers started entering people’s homes, the need for clear, simple, extremely usable interfaces was evident. Back then, the majority of people weren’t tech-savvy at all. They were literally ignorant when it came to using a computer. The Apple Lisa and Macintosh computers were revolutionary, UI-wise, because their interfaces were the result of a painstaking research into how to present information to the user and the ways the user can interact with and manipulate it. The abundant, well-written documentation, the manuals and user’s guides accompanying those machines, taught people even the most basic operations — like using the mouse — because at the time these were completely new things to most people. What today looks and feels ‘intuitive’, back then was not.

What was great about those manuals and those first graphical user interfaces is that they truly educated people in the use of the personal computer without insulting their intelligence. And, at least in the beginning, people were also educated on the matters related to software: what software is and how to use it, how to deal with it. This unfortunately didn’t last long. First, the IBM PC and Microsoft Windows became the most widely used platform — and sadly this ‘winning’ platform was also less user-friendly. 

Then the software for this platform propagated at gold rush levels, and soon people found themselves overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of Windows applications. Needless to say, with great quantity inevitably comes a varying degree of quality. At the same time, the march of progress brought an increasing complexity in operating systems and related software, not to mention the great speed with which companies and businesses became computerised in the 1980s and 1990s. At this point a lot of people were also overwhelmed by having to learn to use badly-designed, user-hostile software for work. I’m going from memory here, so this may be me injecting anecdotal evidence into the narrative, but I distinctly remember how this was a shocking experience for many people who at the time didn’t have a computer at home, never used one before, and suddenly found themselves on work-mandated crash courses to quickly — and badly — learn to use one. Or rather, to use the two or three main applications the company required them to master.

No wonder that a lot of folks became intimidated by technology, computer-averse, or even flat-out unwilling to become more informed on technology matters, even when it was clear that technology would become extremely embedded in people’s lives in the years to come. This was a terrible phase, one I remember too vividly, which coincided with my freelancing as ‘tech support guy’. 98% of the people I helped out back then had a degree of computer literacy that, in a sense, was worse than being completely ignorant: it was a patchwork of disparate notions haphazardly accumulated over time. A mixture of assimilated procedures and workflows without knowledge of the principles behind them. People who didn’t understand basic concepts like the metaphor of files and folders but were able to find, retrieve, and install a third-party utility which often had features already built in the operating system; something these users didn’t realise because they had never really learnt how to use the system in the first place. People who didn’t know how to change their desktop wallpaper but knew how to enter the command prompt and issue certain commands, “because my tech friend told me that if I do this and that I can free up more RAM” (then you asked them what RAM is, and often they confused it with disk storage).

It’s clear that, with this type of computer literacy, taking advantage of users isn’t such a hard task for malicious actors. Spreading malware or viruses masqueraded as benign software (even as antivirus applications) is easy when users are not really educated on spotting the difference between good and bad software.

When the Macintosh was introduced in 1984, Apple had noble goals in mind. They wanted to empower people by giving them a tool that was friendly and intuitive to use, that could make their lives easier, and even spark creativity and ingenuity. The computer for the rest of us. With hindsight, it’s a pity that the Macintosh lost the war against the IBM PC and Windows and did not become the most widely used platform. Because at the time, the difference between someone who got into computers via the Mac platform versus someone who had to learn to be proficient with a PC, mostly for work-related reasons, was palpable. The typical Mac user was — how to put it? — more organically tech-savvy, more confident in their approach with the machine’s interface, and generally more knowledgeable about the machine as a whole. 

When Jobs returned to Apple in 1997, that noble goal of giving people friendly and powerful tools, both hardware and software, was strongly reiterated. First came the fun machine, the iMac, then a few years later came a more powerful, a more stable, and in many ways more streamlined operating system, Mac OS X. In the 2000s many, many people switched to the Mac because they finally realised that it was an equally powerful, versatile platform, but less messy and inconsistent than Windows. And I remember that, while some long-time Mac users were frustrated by Mac OS X and its initial incompatibility with applications and peripherals they used for work, others were happy to finally leave behind the increasingly arcane management of system and third-party extensions and control panels.

The 2000s were an important decade because Apple at this point was offering both solid hardware and good-quality software, and as more people switched to the Mac, I noticed fewer people being intimidated by computers, fewer people being tech-averse. I still freelanced as tech support guy, but calls for assistance became less and less frequent. There was a brief surge when clients called me for help in transitioning from Mac OS 9 to Mac OS X, but after that things got mostly quiet. There were always exceptions, but I really started to notice that finally the average level of tech-savvy was increasing. 

Back to iOS: when the App Store was introduced, users’ tech-savvy was generally mature enough to handle sideloading from the start, but Apple chose the overprotective path

When Apple introduced the iPhone and iPhone OS (later simply called iOS), not only did they present a compelling device from a hardware standpoint compared to what the competition was offering in the phone market, but the revolution was also happening from a software and user interface standpoint. The intuitiveness of the iPhone Multi-touch interface simply destroyed the convoluted and antiquated UIs of other mobile phones. Apple had introduced friendliness and ease of use in the mobile landscape as well.

Then Apple had yet another fit of We know what’s best for our users and, well, things could have been handled differently. 

If you remember, at first iPhone OS didn’t support native third-party applications. At the time Jobs infamously proposed a ‘sweet solution’ where developers could instead write Web apps for the iPhone that would ‘behave like native apps’. I remember thinking at the time that this was kind of surprisingly myopic of Jobs and Apple, and it really felt as if the message to developers was something like, Don’t screw up our newborn revolutionary platform with your mediocre stuff. Thankfully this stance didn’t last long, and in March 2008 Apple announced the iPhone SDK. 

Back in 2007–2008, I assumed that Apple would approach third-party iPhone OS app development in much the same way they did with third-party Mac OS app development. A sort of loose, ‘anything goes’ approach, that is. My mistaken and somewhat naïve assumption came after hearing Jobs speak of iPhone OS as being essentially OS X in mobile form. I also thought that Apple knew their users (and developers) enough at this point to trust them and treat them like people who knew what to do with their devices. People who could decide for themselves what kind of experience to get from their devices. When the iPhone App Store was launched in mid-2008, I thought it would work a bit differently. The model I had in mind was more similar to how the Mac App Store would work later in 2010. In other words, I thought the App Store would be a place where users could more easily find & install selected (and approved) apps for their mobile devices, but that they would be free to look elsewhere if they so chose. 

Don’t make promises you can’t possibly keep, Apple

Instead of teaching users how to fish, Apple decided to position themselves as sole purveyors of the best selection of fish. Now, leave aside for a moment all the tech-oriented observations you could make here. Just stop and think about how arrogant and patronising this attitude is. Sure, I can believe the genuine concerns of providing users with the smoothest experience and protecting them from badly-written apps (or just straight malware) that could compromise the stability of their devices. But by not taking a more moderate approach (it’s either we lock down the platform or we’ll have the cyber equivalent of the Wild West!), you also deprive users of choice and responsibility.

The problem of appointing yourself as the sole guardian and gatekeeper of the software that should or should not reach your users is that you’re expected to be infallible, and rightly so. Especially if you are a tech giant which supposedly has enough money and resources to do such a splendid job that is virtually indistinguishable from infallibility. Instead we know well just how many untrustworthy and scammy apps have been and are plaguing the App Store, and how inconsistent and unpredictable the App Review process generally is.

That’s why the doom and gloom in Federighi’s speech sounds hilarious to me. His (and Apple’s) is textbook FUD spreading — this idea that, without Apple the paladin, all these poor users are left completely defenceless and at the mercy of the hordes of cybercriminals waiting outside the walls of the walled garden. The same paladin who rejects an app update from a well-known, trusted developer for ludicrous technicalities, but allows hundreds of subscription scams from pseudo-apps that are just empty containers to fool people into recurring payments. 

We’re not living in the 1980s and 1990s anymore. Today most people have a base level of tech-savvy that was almost unthinkable 20–30 years ago, and they’re much less intimidated by technology. But a point of regression is given by the constant convenience spoon-fed to users and the insistence on eliminating any kind of friction in the user experience — and I mean even that modicum of ‘good’ friction that makes a user more aware of what’s going on, more conscious of how a certain flow or interaction works. If you remove all cognitive load, users become lazy quickly, and even otherwise tech-savvy people can be lulled into a false sense of security, thus falling for App Store scams I’m sure they would recognise if carefully screenshotted and presented to them out of context.

Closing remarks: Sideloading should be seen as adulthood in our relationship with software. An occasion for being in control, making choices, and taking responsibility

Moving on, I think sideloading should regain a more neutral, or even positive connotation and should not be demonised. The term sideloading shouldn’t feel like the tech equivalent of moving contraband. It’s just the process of installing software, any kind of software, and not necessarily just the sneaky or malicious kind. Or the kind that weakens a device’s security. In fact it’s theoretically possible to offer software tools that increase security in certain parts of a system, exactly because they can access them. 

And on a more philosophical plane, sideloading ultimately means freedom of choice and giving back a bit of agency and responsibility to users. How Mac software works could very well work for iOS, too. There wouldn’t be the need to dismantle the App Store as it is today. Keep it as the curated place that it is (or wants to be), but allow iOS software to be distributed and installed from other places as well, with sandboxing and notarisation requirements in place just like with Mac software. And just like on Mac OS, at the user interface level you could warn the users that they’re about to install an app by an unidentified developer, outside of the App Store, and that if they choose to install it, it’s at their own risk. Let them make an informed decision. And let them set their preference in Settings, exactly like they do in Mac OS in System Preferences → Security & Privacy.

Again, Apple should refrain from continuing to bang the security drum when discouraging sideloading. They could maintain such stern stance if they were actually able to protect iOS users all the time, consistently and effectively. But they aren’t, and they simply cannot guarantee a 100% efficacy, which again is the fundamental requirement when you position yourself as the sole gatekeeper and imply that people would be lost and clueless without the protection you provide. In such a context, you can’t provide ‘good enough’ protection. Here, good enough is simply not enough.