As summer shifts to autumn in a deluge of thunderstorms here in the north of England, I’m reminded that change is perpetual and unavoidable, and how bewilderingly craven it can feel at times to strive for stasis. Change energises as much as it buffets. Entropy is as fundamental as gravity.
Conversely; it would be a bit fucking nice if some things stayed the same. Just for a bit. As a treat.
I pride myself on my ability to embrace change. I am fundamentally disinterested in a life devoid of chaos. I am a generalist, and I have floated around this industry doing anything and everything for a living. From full-stack dev, to every design role going, to product leadership, education, writing, and people management. I switch roles every two–to–three years like clockwork. I’ve moved house a dozen times. I collect hobbies like hobbyists collect things and discard them just as quickly.
Lately, however, I’m finding myself more and more resistant to the changes I’m encountering. The devolution of the ‘tech’ industry into the ‘AI’ industry, the dwindling optimism of everyone good and the ever-teaming glee of the grifters, the sheer dearth of opportunities in this industry that don’t involve talking to fucking robots, the weird noise my knees make when I stand up, the extra couple lbs that I carry around every week—I am getting old, I realise. I’m jaded, tired, and, for the first time in my life, pessimistic about what’s possible with technology.
Advancements in hardware, software and infrastructure brought us some incredible things. Tools that empowered unbridled creativity, unparalleled access to our favourite media, access to friends and family anywhere in the world, fuckin NEOPETS. Now what do we get? Seventeen fucking streaming services, an agentic epidemic, and a gaggle of cacophonous cunts trying to convince the world that prompting a machine makes them an artisan.
This current incarnation of our industry promises absolutely nothing but convergence to a lowest-common denominator and a bunch of niche tools that give B2B SaaS fucks a stiffy but are ultimately beyond meaningless for actual humans. What a fucking waste.
I’ve spent my career questioning the conventions of this industry. Pushing back against shitty working practices, against manipulative design patterns, against willful bigotry and exclusionary hiring practices. Until recently, it felt like there was always an alternative.
For every organisation that wanted to go full dickhead with ‘habit-forming’ products, there was another willing to try something different. For every designer that was happy to collect a paycheck implementing deceptive patterns, there was another willing to call them a prick and do better. For every React-brained engineer using a div as a button, there was a sensible person who actually cared about accessibility.
I’ve had a long career in tech already. I’ve never worked with the ‘big’ gaffs—I never would have, and I never will. Firstly, they’re full of cunts, secondly, there was always an alternative. I’ve never made the fuck–you ‘tech money’ that many folks have, but I’ve also never had an extravagant lifestyle to neccessitate such. I’ve done well for myself, and I’ve always been able to get by, whether it’s through adapting to a new role, taking on projects too boring or too short or too chaotic for others, or just through being very good at what I do, back when that was enough.
Right now, I’m not really sure about anything. I’m not sure there’s an alternative to horrendously AI-pilled organisations. I’m not sure there’s an alternative to convincing everyone you’re the only person in the room who really knows what ‘agentic’ means. I’m not sure there’s a path through this industry that doesn’t involve being a milquetoast little fuck who jumps aboard the AI bandwagon until it all blows over, the bubble bursts, and everyone needs real humans to clean up the fucking mess again.
I’m reminded, though, of the old adage that ‘you can’t be what you can’t see.’ Maybe after twenty years navigating the tech industry I’m just missing the cool shit that’s happening elsewhere. Maybe there are industries away from tech where good, human–first design and accessible frontend code still matters. Where you can’t just ask a robot to generate an entire fucking product and act like you’ve achieved something. If you’re lucky enough to be there right now, well done, can I come over and play Tony Hawk?
What the fuck has this got to do with a fucking website, Scott?
Oh, shit yeah, you might be new. Every post has to start with overly-purple prose that serves only to indulge the idea that after two published books I can still produce enjoyable content longer than a Bluesky post.
Anyway, yeah, new website. It’s like a fake operating system. Which isn’t exactly unique, but it is very fun.
It’s also the one place where I feel like I can actually express myself and build fun, random shit that isn’t quite a standalone product, but doesn’t really fit into some kind of rigid, conventional information architecture. It’s a little bit weird, it’s not a ‘normal’ website, there’s not even a CTA to help hit my KPIs!
And this is something I’m noticing more and more; something that rekindles that dwindling optimism I’ll always cling to. People are still making weird shit. Still putting their ideas out there. Still pushing back against the tide of overhyped, insidious slop.
When our so–called ‘social media’ is as divergent and as unfit for purpose as it is right now (seriously, what are the options? Argue with Third Reich Robots and MAGA-pilled paedophiles on X? Pray that Bluesky doesn’t fall apart? Try and navigate the deep gloomy woods of sanctimonious sentient neckbeards that is Mastodon?); when the very concept that there’s a ‘home’ to be found on the web has eroded unfathomably; it’s still so fucking cool that we can just type into a text editor and build that home for ourselves.
People have always made weird shit as acts of rebellion and resistance. Some of them become entire movements.
The impressionists saw the art world descend into increasingly hyperrealistic portraits of cousin-fucking nobility and say ‘nah lads, here’s a boat on a river comprised entirely of seventeen brush strokes, go fuck yourselves (and/or your cousin I guess.)’[citation needed] Grunge pushed back against an era of sterile, puerile, sexist cock rock with raw, unpolished, deeply evocative noise. Stravisnky made a thousand people shit themselves[citation needed] and riot because he didn’t want to write a ‘proper’ ballet.
Now, I’m not saying one person building a little homepage is equivalent to composing The Rite of Spring or Impression Soleil Levant or Ten, but it can be imbued with the same sense of ‘fuck you’–ism. As the industry devolves into a clusterfuck of copycat slop, as folk literally feed prompts into mediocrity machines and content themselves with being exuberantly average, as the nightmarish ghouls at the top of the pyramid use their infinite money and influence to force an entire industry down a path of irredeemable mundanity, simply BUILDING WEIRD SHIT feels like an act of resistance.
Home is where you make it
So, this is my new home on the Web. The old one was a bit of a shitshow, all things considered, because it was basically one wall with a photo of myself and my dog on it. Now I have rooms and corridors and there’ll alway be somewhere that can contain my silly little ideas—the weird shit that doesn’t really make sense to live anywhere else.
I have a silly little ‘game’ here where you can beat up an LLM with my dog. I’ve got a whole host of bastardised ‘not-quite-retro’ windows, a barely-functioning music player. I’ve even got my own somehow more terrifying version of Clippy. None of it is for any other reason that I think it’s cool and fun and because I wanted to try and build it.
I could write about how I built this, but honestly, that shit doesn’t interest me at all, and you can see all the code yourself anyway. What I would much prefer, is that some of this resonates with you, dear reader.
Maybe you feel similar to me: untethered, meandering, unsure. If so, I can’t guarantee diving into a text editor and building yourself some terra firma that actually feels like YOURS will fix that, but it might help. I know it did for me.
Change energises as much as it buffets. Entropy is as fundamental as gravity. But we all need somewhere to hang our hat.