I was reading Macintosh Human Interface Guidelines from 1992 and found this nice illustration: accompanied by explanation: Fast forward to 2025. Apple releases macOS Tahoe. Main attraction? Adding unpleasant, distracting, illegible, messy, cluttered, confusing, frustrating icons (their words, not mine!) to every menu item: Sequoia → Tahoe It’s bad. But why exactly is it bad? Let’s delve into it! Disclaimer: screenshots are a mix from macOS 26.1 and 26.2, taken from stock Apple apps only that come pre-installed with the system. No system settings were modified. # Icons should differentiate The main function of an icon is to help you find what you are looking for faster. Perhaps counter-intuitively, adding an icon to everything is exactly the wrong thing to do. To stand out, things need to be different. But if everything has an icon, nothing stands out. The same applies to color: black-and-white icons look clean, but they don’t help you find things faster! Microsoft used to know this: Look how much faster you can find Save or Share in the right variant: It also looks cleaner. Less cluttered. A colored version would be even better (clearer separation of text from icon, faster to find): I know you won’t like how it looks. I don’t like it either. These icons are hard to work with. You’ll have to actually design for color to look nice. But the principle stands: it is way easier to use. # Consistency between apps If you want icons to work, they need to be _consistent_. I need to be able to learn what to look for. For example, I see a “Cut” command and next to it. Okay, I think. Next time I’m looking for “Cut,” I might save some time and start looking for instead. How is Tahoe doing on that front? I present to you: Fifty Shades of “New”: I even collected them all together, so the absurdity of the situation is more obvious. Granted, some of them are different operations, so they have different icons. I guess creating a smart folder is different from creating a journal entry. But this? Or this: Or this: There is no excuse. Same deal with open: Save: Yes. One of them is a checkmark. And they can’t even agree on the direction of an arrow! Close: Find (which is sometimes called Search, and sometimes Filter): Delete (from Cut-Copy-Paste-Delete fame): Minimize window. These are not some obscure, unique operations. These are OS basics, these are foundational. Every app has them, and they are always in the same place. They shouldn’t look different! # Consistency inside the same app Icons are also used in toolbars. Conceptually, operations in a toolbar are identical to operations called through the menu, and thus should use the same icons. That’s the simplest case to implement: inside the same app, often on the same screen. How hard can it be to stay consistent? Preview: Photos: same and mismatch, but reversed ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Maps and others often use different symbols for zoom: # Icon reuse Another cardinal sin is to use the same icon for different actions. Imagine: I have learned that means “New”: Then I open an app and see. “Cool”, I think, “I already know what it means”: Gotcha! You’d think: okay, means quick look: Sometimes, sure. Some other times, means “Show completed”: Sometimes is “Import”: Sometimes is “Updates”: Same as with consistency, icon reuse doesn’t only happen between apps. Sometimes you see in a toolbar: Then go to the menu _in the same app_ and see means something else: Sometimes identical icons meet in the same menu. Sometimes next to each other. Sometimes they put an entire barrage of identical icons in a row: This doesn’t help anyone. No user will find a menu item faster or will understand the function better if all icons are the same. The worst case of icon reuse so far has been the Photos app: It feels like the person tasked with choosing a unique icon for every menu item just ran out of ideas. Understandable. # Too much nuance When looking at icons, we usually allow for slight differences in execution. That lets us, for example, understand that these _technically different_ road signs mean the same thing: Same applies for icons: if you draw an arrow going out of the box in one place and also an arrow and the box but at a slightly different angle, or with different stroke width, or make one filled, we will understand them as meaning the same thing. Like, is supposed to mean something else from ? Come on! Or two-letter As that only slightly differ in the font size: A pencil is “Rename” but a slightly thicker pencil is “Highlight”? Arrows that use different diagonals? Three dots occupying ⅔ of space vs three dots occupying everything. Seriously? Slightly darker dots? The sheet of paper that changes meaning depending on if its corner is folded or if there are lines inside? But the final boss are arrows. They are all different: Supposedly, a user must become an expert at noticing how squished the circle is, if it starts top to right or bottom to right, and how far the arrow’s end goes. Do I care? Honestly, no. I could’ve given it a shot, maybe, if Apple applied these consistently. But Apple considers and to mean the same thing in one place, and expects me to notice minute details like this in another? Sorry, I can’t trust you. Not after everything I’ve seen. # Detalization Icons are supposed to be easily recognizable from a distance. Every icon designer knows: small details are no-go. You can have them sometimes, maybe, for aesthetic purposes, but you can’t _rely_ on them. And icons in Tahoe menus are _tiny_. Most of them fit in a 12×12 pixel square (actual resolution is 24×24 because of Retina), and because many of them are not square, one dimension is usually even less than 12. It’s not a lot of space to work with! Even Windows 95 had 16×16 icons. If we take the typical DPI of that era at 72 dots per inch, we get a physical icon size of 0.22 inches (5.6 mm). On a modern MacBook Pro with 254 DPI, Tahoe’s 24×24 icons are 0.09 inches (2.4 mm). Sure, 24 is bigger than 16, but in reality, these icons’ area is 4 times as small! Simulated physical size comparison between 16×16 at 72 DPI (left) and 24×24 at 254 DPI (right) So when I see this: I struggle. I can tell they are different. But I definitely struggle to tell what’s being drawn. Even zoomed in 20×, it’s still a mess: Or here. These are three different icons: Am I supposed to tell plus sign from sparkle here? Some of these lines are half the pixel thicker than the other lines, and that’s supposed to be the main point: Is this supposed to be an arrow? A paintbrush? Look, a tiny camera. It even got an even tinier viewfinder, which you can almost see if you zoom in 20×: Or here. There is a box, inside that box is a circle, and inside it is a tiny letter. `i` with a total height of 2 pixels: Don’t see it? I don’t. But it’s there... And this is a window! It even has traffic lights! How adorable: Remember: these are retina pixels, ¼ of a real pixel. Steve Jobs himself claimed they were invisible. > It turns out there’s a magic number right around 300 pixels per inch, that when you hold something around to 10 to 12 inches away from your eyes, is the limit of the human retina to differentiate the pixels. And yet, Tahoe icons rely on you being able to see them. # Pixel grid When you have so little space to work with, every pixel matters. You can make a good icon, but you have to choose your pixels very carefully. For Tahoe icons, Apple decided to use vector fonts instead of good old-fashioned bitmaps. It saves Apple resources—draw once, use everywhere. Any size, any display resolution, any font width. But there’re downsides: fonts are hard to position vertically, their size doesn’t map directly to pixels, stroke width doesn’t map 1-to-1 to pixel grid, etc. So, they work everywhere, but they also look blurry and mediocre everywhere: Tahoe icon (left) and its pixel-aligned version (right). They certainly start to work better once you give them more pixels. iPad OS 26 vs macOS 26 or make graphics simpler. But the combination of small details and tiny icon size is deadly. So, until Apple releases MacBooks with 380+ DPI, unfortunately, we still have to care about the pixel grid. # Confusing metaphors Icons might serve another function: to help users understand the meaning of the command. For example, once you know the context (move window), these icons explain what’s going on faster than words: But for this to work, the user must understand what’s drawn on the icon. It must be a familiar object with a clear translation to computer action (like Trash can → Delete), a widely used symbol, or an easy-to-understand diagram. HIG: A rookie mistake would be to misrepresent the object. For example, this is how selection looks like: But its icon looks like this: Honestly, I’ve been writing this essay for a week, and I still have zero ideas why it looks like that. There’s an object that looks like this, but it’s a text block in Freeform/Preview: It’s called `character.textbox` in SF Symbols: Why did it become a metaphor for “Select all”? My best guess is it’s a mistake. Another place uses text selection from iOS as a metaphor. On a Mac! Some concepts have obvious or well-established metaphors. In that case, it’s a mistake not to use them. For example, bookmarks: . Apple, for some reason, went with a book: Sometimes you already have an interface element and can use it for an icon. However, try not to confuse your users. Dots in a rectangle look like password input, not permissions: Icon here says “Check” but the action is “Uncheck”. Terrible mistake: icon doesn’t help, it actively confuses the user. It’s also tempting to construct a two-level icon: an object and some sort of indicator. Like, a checkbox and a cross, meaning “Delete checkbox”: Or a user and a checkmark, like “Check the user”: Unfortunately, constructs like this rarely work. Users don’t build sentences from building blocks you provide; they have no desire to solve these puzzles. Finding metaphors is hard. Nouns are easier than verbs, and menu items are mostly verbs. How does open look? Like an arrow pointing to the top right? Why? I’m not saying there’s an obvious metaphor for “Open” Apple missed. There isn’t. But that’s the point: if you can’t find a good metaphor, using no icon is better than using a bad, confusing, or nonsensical icon. There’s a game I like to play to test the quality of the metaphor. Remove the labels and try to guess the meaning. Give it a try: It’s delusional to think that there’s a good icon for every action if you think hard enough. There isn’t. It’s a lost battle from the start. No amount of money or “management decisions” is going to change that. The problems are 100% self-inflicted. All this being said, I gotta give Apple credit where credit is due. When they are good at choosing metaphors, they are good: # Symmetrical actions A special case of a confusing metaphor is using different metaphors for actions that are direct opposites of one another. Like Undo/Redo, Open/Close, Left/Right. It’s good when their icons use the same metaphor: Because it saves you time and cognitive resources. Learn one, get another one for free. Because of that, it’s a mistake not to use common metaphors for related actions: Or here: Another mistake is to create symmetry where there is none. “Back” and “See all”? Some menus in Tahoe make both mistakes. E.g. lack of symmetry between Show/Hide and false symmetry between completed/subtasks: Import not mirrored by Export but by Share: # Text in icons HIG again: Authors of HIG are arguing against including text as a part of an icon. So something like this: or this: would not fly in 1992. I agree, but Tahoe has more serious problems: icons consisting _only_ of text. Like this: It’s unclear where “metaphorical, abstract icon text that is not supposed to be read literally” ends and actual text starts. They use the same font, the same color, so how am I supposed to differentiate? Icons just get in a way: A...Complete? AaFont? What does it mean? I can maybe understand and . Dots are supposed to represent something. I can imagine thinking that led to . But ? No decorations. No effects. Just plain Abc. Really? # Text transformations One might think that using icons to illustrate text transformations is a better idea. Like, you look at this: or this: or this: and just from the icon alone understand what will happen with the text. Icon _illustrates_ the action. Also, BIU are well-established in word processing, so all upside? Not exactly. The problem is the same—text icon looks like text, not icon. Plus, these icons are _excessive_. What’s the point of taking the first letter and repeating it? The word “Bold” already starts with a letter “B”, it reads just as easily, so why double it? Look at it again: It’s also repeated once more as a shortcut... There is a better way to design this menu: And it was known to Apple for at least 33 years. # System elements in icons Operating system, of course, uses some visual elements for its own purposes. Like window controls, resize handles, cursors, shortcuts, etc. It would be a mistake to use those in icons. Unfortunately, Apple fell into this trap, too. They reused arrows. Key shortcuts: HIG has an entire section on ellipsis specifically and how dangerous it is to use it anywhere else in the menu. And this exact problem is in Tahoe, too. # Icons break scanning Without icons, you can just scan the menu from top to bottom, reading only the first letters. Because they all align: macOS Sequoia In Tahoe, though, some menu items have icons, some don’t, and they are aligned differently: Some items can have both checkmarks _and_ icons, or have only one of them, or have neither, so we get situations like this: Ugh. # Special mention This menu deserves its own category: Same icon for different actions. Missing the obvious metaphor. Somehow making the first one slightly smaller than the second and third. Congratulations! It got it all. # Is HIG still relevant? I’ve been mentioning HIG a lot, and you might be wondering: is an interface manual from 1992 still relevant today? Haven’t computers changed so much that entirely new principles, designs, and idioms apply? Yes and no. Of course, advice on how to adapt your icons to black-and-white displays is obsolete. But the principles—as long as they are good principles—still apply, because they are based on how humans work, not how computers work. Humans don’t get a new release every year. Our memory doesn’t double. Our eyesight doesn’t become sharper. Attention works the same way it always has. Visual recognition, motor skills—all of this is exactly as it was in 1992. So yeah, until we get a direct chip-to-brain interface, HIG will stay relevant. # Conclusion In my opinion, Apple took on an impossible task: to add an icon to every menu item. There are just not enough good metaphors to do something like that. But even if there were, the premise itself is questionable: if everything has an icon, it doesn’t mean users will find what they are looking for faster. And even if the premise was solid, I still wish I could say: they did the best they could, given the goal. But that’s not true either: they did a poor job consistently applying the metaphors and designing the icons themselves. I hope this article would be helpful in avoiding common mistakes in icon design, which Apple managed to collect all in one OS release. I love computers, I love interfaces, I love visual communication. It makes me sad seeing perfectly good knowledge already accessible 30 years ago being completely ignored or thrown away today. On the upside: it’s not that hard anymore to design better than Apple! Let’s drink to that. Happy New year! From SF Symbols: a smiley face calling somebody on the phone # Notes During review of this post I was made familiar with Jim Nielsen’s article, which hits a lot of the same points as I do. I take that as a sign there’s some common truth behind our reasoning. Also note: Safari → File menu got worse since 26.0. Used to have only 4 icons, now it’s 18! Thanks Kevin, Ryan, and Nicki for reading drafts of this post.

I have a weird relationship with statistics: on one hand, I try not to look at it too often. Maybe once or twice a year. It’s because analytics is not actionable: what difference does it make if a thousand people saw my article or ten thousand? I mean, sure, you might try to guess people’s tastes and only write about what’s popular, but that will destroy your soul pretty quickly. On the other hand, I feel nervous when something is not accounted for, recorded, or saved for future reference. I might not need it now, but what if ten years later I change my mind? Seeing your readers also helps to know you are not writing into the void. So I really don’t need much, something very basic: the number of readers per day/per article, maybe, would be enough. Final piece of the puzzle: I self-host my web projects, and I use an old-fashioned web server instead of delegating that task to Nginx. Static sites are popular and for a good reason: they are fast, lightweight, and fulfil their function. I, on the other hand, might have an unfinished gestalt or two: I want to feel the full power of the computer when serving my web pages, to be able to do fun stuff that is beyond static pages. I need that freedom that comes with a full programming language at your disposal. I want to program my own web server (in Clojure, sorry everybody else). # Existing options All this led me on a quest for a statistics solution that would uniquely fit my needs. Google Analytics was out: bloated, not privacy-friendly, terrible UX, Google is evil, etc. What is going on? Some other JS solution might’ve been possible, but still questionable: SaaS? Paid? Will they be around in 10 years? Self-host? Are their cookies GDPR-compliant? How to count RSS feeds? Nginx has access logs, so I tried server-side statistics that feed off those (namely, Goatcounter). Easy to set up, but then I needed to create domains for them, manage accounts, monitor the process, and it wasn’t even performant enough on my server/request volume! # My solution So I ended up building my own. You are welcome to join, if your constraints are similar to mine. This is how it looks: It’s pretty basic, but does a few things that were important to me. ## Setup Extremely easy to set up. And I mean it as a feature. Just add our middleware to your Ring stack and get everything automatically: collecting and reporting. (def app (-> routes ... (ring.middleware.params/wrap-params) (ring.middleware.cookies/wrap-cookies) ... (clj-simple-stats.core/wrap-stats))) ;; <-- just add this It’s zero setup in the best sense: nothing to configure, nothing to monitor, minimal dependency. It starts to work immediately and doesn’t ask anything from you, ever. See, you already have your web server, why not reuse all the setup you did for it anyway? ## Request types We distinguish between request types. In my case, I am only interested in live people, so I count them separately from RSS feed requests, favicon requests, redirects, wrong URLs, and bots. Bots are particularly active these days. Gotta get that AI training data from somewhere. RSS feeds are live people in a sense, so extra work was done to count them properly. Same reader requesting `feed.xml` 100 times in a day will only count as one request. Hosted RSS readers often report user count in User-Agent, like this: Feedly/1.0 (+http://www.feedly.com/fetcher.html; 457 subscribers; like FeedFetcher-Google) Mozilla/5.0 (compatible; BazQux/2.4; +https://bazqux.com/fetcher; 6 subscribers) Feedbin feed-id:1373711 - 142 subscribers My personal respect and thank you to everybody on this list. I see you. ## Graphs Visualization is important, and so is choosing the correct graph type. This is wrong: Continuous line suggests interpolation. It reads like between 1 visit at 5am and 11 visits at 6am there were points with 2, 3, 5, 9 visits in between. Maybe 5.5 visits even! That is not the case. This is how a semantically correct version of that graph should look: Some attention was also paid to having reasonable labels on axes. You won’t see something like 117, 234, 10875. We always choose round numbers appropriate to the scale: 100, 200, 500, 1K etc. Goes without saying that all graphs have the same vertical scale and syncrhonized horizontal scroll. ## Insights We don’t offer much (as I don’t need much), but you can narrow reports down by page, query, referrer, user agent, and any date slice. ## Not implemented (yet) It would be nice to have some insights into “What was this spike caused by?” Some basic breakdown by country would be nice. I do have IP addresses (for what they are worth), but I need a way to package GeoIP into some reasonable size (under 1 Mb, preferably; some loss of resolution is okay). Finally, one thing I am really interested in is “Who wrote about me?” I do have referrers, only question is how to separate signal from noise. Performance. DuckDB is a sport: it compresses data and runs column queries, so storing extra columns per row doesn’t affect query performance. Still, each dashboard hit is a query across the entire database, which at this moment (~3 years of data) sits around 600 MiB. I definitely need to look into building some pre-calculated aggregates. One day. ## How to get Head to github.com/tonsky/clj-simple-stats and follow the instructions: Let me know what you think! Is it usable to you? What could be improved? P.S. You can try the live example at tonsky.me/stats. The data was imported from Nginx access logs, which I turned on and off on a few occasions, so it’s a bit spotty. Still, it should give you a general idea.

It’s 2025 and you are applying for a software engineer position. They give you a test assignment. You complete it yourself, send it over, and get rejected. Why? Because it looked like AI. Unfortunately, it’s 2025, AI is spreading like glitter in a kindergarten, and it’s really easy to mistake hard human labor for soulless, uninspired machine slop. Following are the main _red flags_ in test assignments that should be **avoided** : * The assignment was read and understood in full. * All parts are implemented. * Industry-standard tools and frameworks are used. * The code is split into small, readable functions. * Variables have descriptive names. * Complex parts have comments. * Errors are handled, error messages are easy to follow. * Source files are organized reasonably. * The web interface looks nice. * There are tests. Avoid these AI giveaways and spread the word!

Clojure+ is a project to improve Clojure stdlib.

If you’ve been around, you might’ve noticed that our relationships with programs have changed. Older programs were all about what you need: you can do this, that, whatever you want, just let me know. You were in control, you were giving orders, and programs obeyed. But recently (a decade, more or less), this relationship has subtly changed. Newer programs (which are called apps now, yes, I know) started to want things from you. # Accounts The most obvious example is user accounts. In most cases, I, as a user, don’t need an account. Yet programs keep insisting that I, not them, “need” one. I don’t. I have more accounts already than a population of a small town. This is something _you_ want, not me. The only correct reaction to an account screen And even if you give up and create one, they will never leave you alone: they’ll ask for 2FA, then for password rotation, then will log you out for no good reason. You’ll never see the end of it either way. This got so bad that when a program doesn’t ask you to create an account, it feels _refreshing_. “Okay, but accounts are still needed to sync stuff between machines.” Wrong. Syncthing is a secure, multi-machine distributed app and yet doesn’t need an account. “Okay, but you still need an account if you pay for a subscription?” Mullvad VPN accepts payments and yet didn’t ask me for my email. How come these apps can go without an account, but your code editor and your terminal can’t? # Updates Every program has an update mechanism now. Everybody is checking for updates all the time. Some notoriously bad ones lock you out until you update. You get notified a few seconds after a new version is available. And yet: do we, users, really need these updates? Did we ask for them? I’ve been running barebone Nvidia drivers without their bloated desktop app (partly because it asks for an account, lol). As a result, there’s nobody to notify me about new drivers. And you know what? It’s been fine. I could forget to update for months, and still everything works. It’s the most relaxing I’ve felt in a while. Even terminal programs bother you with updates now. There has been a new major release of Syncthing in August. How did I learn about it? By accident; a friend told me. And you know what? I’m happy with that. If I upgrade, nothing in my life will change. It works just fine now. So do I really _need_ an update? Is it _my_ need? It’s simple, really. If I need an update, I will know it: I’ll encounter a bug or a lack of functionality. Then I’ll go and update. Until then, politely fuck off. # Notifications Notifications are the ultimate example of neediness: a program, a mechanical, lifeless thing, an unanimate object, is bothering its master about something the master didn’t ask for. Hey, who is more important here, a human or a machine? Notifications are like email: to-do items that are forced on you by another party. Hey, it’s not my job to dismiss your notifications! I just downloaded this and already have three notifications to dismiss. Sure, there are good notifications. Sometimes users need to be notified about something they care about, like the end of a long-running process. But the general pattern is so badly abused that it’s hard to justify it now. You can make a case that giving a toddler a gun can help it protect itself. But much worse things will probably happen much sooner. These fucking dots. There’s no good reason why, e.g. code editor needs a notification system. What’s there to notify about? Updates? Sublime Text has no notifications. And you know what? It works just fine. I never felt underinformed while using it. The ultimate example: account, update, and notification # Onboarding The company needs to announce a new feature and makes a popup window about it. Read this again: The company. Needs. It’s not even about the user. Never has been. What’s new in Calendar? I don’t know, 13th month? Did I ask about Copilot? No. The company wants me to use it. Not me: Do I care about Figma Make? Not really, no. Yet I still know about it, against my will. # To sum it up I’ve read somewhere (sorry, lost the link): > `ls` never asks you to create an account or to update. I agree. `ls` is a good program. `ls` is a tool. It does what I need it to do and stays quiet otherwise. I use it; it doesn’t use me. That’s a good, healthy relationship. At the other end of the spectrum, we have services. Programs that constantly update. Programs that have news, that “keep you informed”. Programs that need something from you all the time. Programs that update Terms of Service just to remind you of themselves. Programs that have their own agenda and that are trying to make it yours, too. Programs that want you to think about them. Programs that think they are entitled to a part of your attention. “Pick me” programs. And you know what? Fuck these programs. Give me back my computer.