An excellent interview!
From deleted government records to disappearing music, our digital culture can be erased overnight. The Internet Archive’s Mark Graham and Chris Freeland explain what it will take to save it.
1993 shaped how I think of the internet, and I’m keepin’ on in that original spirit.
Like picking up trash where you walk, even if the rest of the world is full of litter. You keep doing what you can to make things better.
If you wanted to make a really crude approximation of project management, you could say there are two main styles: waterfall and agile.
It’s not as simple as that by any means. And the two aren’t really separate things; agile came about as a response to the failures of waterfall. But if we’re going to stick with crude approximations, here we go:
So crude! Much approximation!
It only recently struck me that the agile approach is basically a cybernetic system.
Cybernetics is pretty much anything that involves feedback. If it’s got inputs and outputs that are connected in some way, it’s probably cybernetic. Politics. Finance. Your YouTube recommendations. Every video game you’ve ever played. You. Every living thing on the planet. That’s cybernetics.
Fun fact: early on in the history of cybernetics, a bunch of folks wanted to get together at an event to geek about this stuff. But they knew that if they used the word “cybernetics” to describe the event, Norbert Wiener would show up and completely dominate proceedings. So they invented a new alias for the same thing. They coined the term “artificial intelligence”, or AI for short.
Yes, ironically the term “AI” was invented in order to repel a Reply Guy. Now it’s Reply Guy catnip. In today’s AI world, everyone’s a Norbert Wiener.
The thing that has the Wieners really excited right now in the world of programming is the idea of agentic AI. In this set-up, you don’t do any of the actual coding. Instead you specify everything up front and then have a team of artificial agents execute your plan.
That’s right; it’s a return to waterfall. But that’s not as crazy as it sounds. Waterfall was wasteful because execution was expensive and time-consuming. Now that execution is relatively cheap (you pay a bit of money to line the pockets of the worst people in exchange for literal tokens), you can afford to throw some spaghetti at the wall and see if it sticks.
But you lose the learning. The idea of a cybernetic system like, say, agile development, is that you try something, learn from it, and adjust accordingly. You remember what worked. You remember what didn’t. That’s learning.
Outsourcing execution to machines makes a lot of sense.
I’m not so sure it makes sense to outsource learning.
This superb essay by Anil Seth won the 2025 Berggruen Prize Essay Competition.
The future history of AI is not yet written. There is no inevitability to the directions AI might yet take. To think otherwise is to be overly constrained by our conceptual inheritance, weighed down by the baggage of bad science fiction and submissive to the self-serving narrative of tech companies laboring to make it to the next financial quarter. Time is short, but collectively we can still decide which kinds of AI we really want and which we really don’t.
Hand-coded, syndicated, and above all personal websites are exemplary: They let users of the internet to be autonomous, experiment, have ownership, learn, share, find god, find love, find purpose. Bespoke, endlessly tweaked, eternally redesigned, built-in-public, surprising UI and delightful UX. The personal website is a staunch undying answer to everything the corporate and industrial web has taken from us.
Maureen has written a really good overview of web feeds for this year’s HTMHell advent calendar.
The common belief is that nobody uses RSS feeds these days. And while it’s true that I wish more people used feed readers—the perfect antidote to being fed from an algorithm—the truth is that millions of people use RSS feeds every time they listen to a podcast. That’s what a podcast is: an RSS feed with enclosure elements that point to audio files.
And just as a web feed doesn’t necessarily need to represent a list of blog posts, a podcast doesn’t necessarily need to be two or more people having a recorded conversation (though that does seem to be the most common format). A podcast can tell a story. I like those kinds of podcasts.
The BBC are particularly good at this kind of episodic audio storytelling. I really enjoyed their series Thirteen minutes to the moon, all about the Apollo 11 mission. They followed it up with a series on Apollo 13, and most recently, a series on the space shuttle.
Here’s the RSS feed for the 13 minutes podcast.
Right now, the BBC have an ongoing series about the history of the atomic bomb. The first series was about Leo Szilard, the second series was about Klaus Fuchs, and the third series running right now is about the Cuban missile crisis.
The hook is that each series is presented by people with a family connection to the events. The first series is presented by the granddaughter of one of the Oak Ridge scientists. The second series is presented by the granddaughter of Klaus Fuch’s spy handler in the UK—blimey! And the current series is presented by Nina Khrushcheva and Max Kennedy—double blimey!
Here’s the RSS feed for The Bomb podcast.
If you want a really deep dive into another pivotal twentieth century event, Evgeny Morozov made a podcast all about Stafford Beer and Salvadore Allende’s collaboration on cybernetics in Chile, the fabled Project Cybercyn. It’s fascinating stuff, though there’s an inevitable feeling of dread hanging over events because we know how this ends.
The podcast is called The Santiago Boys, though I almost hesitate to call it a podcast because for some reason, the website does its best to hide the RSS feed, linking only to the silos of Spotify and Apple. Fortunately, thanks to this handy tool, I can say:
Here’s the RSS feed for The Santiago Boys podcast.
The unifying force behind all three of these stories is the cold war:
This is a wonderfully evocative description of what it was like to go online 30 years ago.
A profile of Tim and the World World Web.
A fascinating look at the importance of undersea cables, taken from a new book called The Web Beneath the Waves.
Hannah runs through the details of making a grid-aware website:
The design adjusts between “low”, “moderate”, and “high” based on the quantity of fossil fuels on your local energy grid.
I like this idea, but I really think it needs to be on by default, rather than being opt-in.
And I’m really intrigued by the idea of a grid-aware browser!
I don’t normally link to articles on Medium—I respect you too much—and I do wish this were written on Mike Hall’s own site, but this is just too good not to share.
And don’t dismiss this as a nostalgiac case study from the past:
At no point did the constraints make the product feel compromised. Users on modern devices got a smooth experience and instant feedback, while those on older devices got fast, reliable functionality. Users on feature phones got the same core experience without the bells and whistles.
The constraints forced us to solve problems in ways we wouldn’t have considered otherwise. Without those constraints, we could have just thrown bytes at the problem, but with them every feature had to justify itself. Core functionality had to work everywhere, and without JavaScript crutches proper markup became essential.
This experience changed how I approach design problems. Constraints aren’t a straitjacket, keeping us from doing our best work; they are the foundation that makes innovation possible. When you have to work within severe limitations, you find elegant solutions that scale beyond those limitations.
Brian’s excellent comparison of network latency and the nervous system of animals:
If an earthquake occurs in California USA, halfway around the globe someone can find out faster than a blue whale detects something has touched its tail.
Overall, consistency, user control, and actual UX innovation are in decline. Everything is converging on TikTok—which is basically TV with infinite channels. You don’t control anything except the channel switch. It’s like Carcinisation, a form of convergent evolution where unrelated crustaceans all evolve into something vaguely crab-shaped.
Signed!
We, the undersigned, call on the record labels and members of the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA)—including UMG, Capitol Records, Concord Bicycle Assets, CMGI Recorded Music Assets, Sony Music Entertainment, and Arista Music—to drop your lawsuit against the Internet Archive.
Here’s a fun account of the early days of the ARPANET.
- Support open source software
- Support open web platform technology
- Distribution on the web should never be throttled
- External links should be encouraged, not de-emphasized
I like the look of this proposal that would allow authors to have more control over network priorities for third-party iframes—I’ve already documented how I had to use a third-party library to fix this problem on the Salter Cane site.
You can think of flying to Mars like one of those art films where the director has to shoot the movie in a single take. Even if no scene is especially challenging, the requirement that everything go right sequentially, with no way to pause or reshoot, means that even small risks become unacceptable in the aggregate.
I’m not a fan of Nicholas Carr and his moral panics, but this is an excellent dive into some historical media theory.
What Innis saw is that some media are particularly good at transporting information across space, while others are particularly good at transporting it through time. Some are space-biased while others are time-biased. Each medium’s temporal or spatial emphasis stems from its material qualities. Time-biased media tend to be heavy and durable. They last a long time, but they are not easy to move around. Think of a gravestone carved out of granite or marble. Its message can remain legible for centuries, but only those who visit the cemetery are able to read it. Space-biased media tend to be lightweight and portable. They’re easy to carry, but they decay or degrade quickly. Think of a newspaper printed on cheap, thin stock. It can be distributed in the morning to a large, widely dispersed readership, but by evening it’s in the trash.