David Heinemeier HanssonModify

As soon as I was old enough to travel on my own, London was where I wanted to go. Compared to Copenhagen at the time, there was something so majestic about Big Ben, Trafalgar Square, and even the Tube around the turn of the millenium. Not just because their capital is twice as old as ours, but because it endured twice as much, through the Blitz and the rest of it, yet never lost its nerve. I thought I might move there one day.

That was then. Now, I wouldn't dream of it. London is no longer the city I was infatuated with in the late '90s and early 2000s. Chiefly because it's no longer full of native Brits. In 2000, more than sixty percent of the city were native Brits. By 2024, that had dropped to about a third. A statistic as evident as day when you walk the streets of London now.

Copenhagen, by comparison, was about eighty-five percent native Danes in 2000, and is still three-quarters today. Enough of a foreign presence to feel cosmopolitan, but still distinctly Danish in all of its ways. Equally statistically evident on streets and bike lanes.

But I think, what would Copenhagen feel like, if only a third of it was Danish, like London? It would feel completely foreign, of course. Alien, even. So I get the frustration that many Brits have with the way mass immigration has changed the culture and makeup of not just London, but their whole country.

That frustration was on wide display in Tommy Robinson's march yesterday. British and English flags flying high and proud, like they would in Copenhagen on the day of a national soccer match. Which was both odd to see but also heartwarming. You can sometimes be forgiven for thinking that all of Britain is lost in self-loathing, shame, and suicidal empathy. But of course it's not.

Recently, a projection that Danes would be a minority in their own country by 2096 caused an enormous stir in Denmark. Politicians across the spectrum decried what a catastrophe that would be for this world's oldest continuous monarchy. But a demographic nightmare worse than that has already enveloped London!

So it's tough to blame the Brits for being pissed. No matter how hard they voted one way or the other, Brexit or no Brexit, the erosion of their national identity kept marching forward at an ever-greater pace. Not due to some unavoidable cosmic destiny, but due to equal parts policy and apathy. The boats kept coming, the migrant hotels kept expanding, and the British authorities kept cracking down on anyone who dared criticize that trajectory or the present-day reality.

Which brings us back to Robinson's powerful march yesterday. The banner said "March for Freedom", and focused as much on that now distant-to-the-Brits concept of free speech, as it did on restoring national pride.

And for good reason! The totalitarian descent into censorious darkness in Britain has been as swift as its demographic shift. British police are now making 30 arrests a day for wrongthink, wrongspeech, and other online transgressions against "the regime narrative", as the BBC would have reported, if this were a statistic from a foreign nation.

Most recently, five officers(!) came to arrest comedian Graham Linehan for illicit tweets. When much of the media reports a story like this, it's often without citing the specific words in question, such that the reader might imagine something far worse than what was actually said. So you should actually read the three tweets that landed Linehan in jail, and earned him a legal restraining order against using X. It's grotesque.  

The easy way out of this uncomfortably large gathering of perfectly normal, peaceful Brits who've had enough is to tar them all as "far right". That's not just a British tactic, but one used across Europe, and previously in the US as well. It used to work very well, because the historical stigma was so strong, but, like hurling "nazi" and "fascist" at the most middle-of-the-road political figures and positions, it's finally lost its power. 

I really feel for the Brits because it's not obvious how they get themselves out of this pickle. They're still reeling from the Pakistani rape gangs that were left free to terrorize cities like Rotherham and Rochdale for years on end with horror-movie-like scenes of the most despicable, depraved abuse of British girls. Unlike Linehan's tweets, I actually implore you not to peruse these stories too closely, though, because they'll make you sick. So how do you even begin to correct course?

I don't know. But I'm glad that there clearly are many Brits who are determined to find out. Unwilling to just let their society wither away while their bobbies chase bad tweets instead of the rampant street thefts or those barbaric rape gangs. Unwilling to resign the rest of the country to the kind of demographic replacement that befell London over the last two decades.

You can rest assured that I'd be in the streets waving a Danish flag if these were my conditions in my native country. I think that's a pretty universal sentiment. There's absolutely nothing racist or xenophobic in saying that Denmark is primarily a country for the Danes, Britain primarily a united kingdom for the Brits, and Japan primarily a set of islands for the Japanese.

Here's how the Danish Prime Minister, Mette Frederiksen of the Social Democrats, recently put it in an interview:

This is the challenge before not just the British establishment, but much of the European one too: To come to the realization of the Danish Prime Minister. Someone nobody could credibly charge with being "far right".

Which should give the Brits some solace. The Social Democrats in Denmark were once staunch believers in unfettered immigration and thought it dirty to even talk about the problems, but eventually reality and public pressure led them to better ideas. Why shouldn't that be possible in the UK? 

Don't give up. You survived the Blitz. Britain will be back.

Apple spent a decade trying to develop their own car with Project Titan. It never launched, and was finally canceled in 2024, but not before the company had spent ten billion dollars on getting nowhere. In the same time frame, Tesla launched the Model X, Model 3, Model Y, and the Cybertruck. But maybe that's just because manufacturing cars is really hard, and at least Apple had some superior software ready to go? Also no.

We know this because the CarPlay Ultra project has been heralded as the one good salvageable part from the Project Titan disaster. Now it's available in the wild, with Aston Martin being the prestige launch partner, and? It's total shit.

Check out this review from The Straight Pipes of the new Aston Martin Vantage. It's a beautiful, fast, and deliciously bonkers British hotrod, but the CarPlay Ultra integration is so bad that it's the single worst thing about the car, according to the reviewers.

Not only is the integration ludicrously laggy — like 12fps kind of laggy, like can't-even-keep-up-with-the-engine-reving kind of laggy — it's also buggy as hell. It crashed on the reviewers during their short time with the car, leaving them driving blind on real roads without any gauge cluster. WTF.

How does something like this go out the door at Cupertino? How does this company, so famed for its obsessive attention to detail, let CarPlay Ultra ship in such a laggy, buggy, and dangerous state? 

Because Apple no longer has anyone left who can say no. You saw it with ad after ad that had to be pulled after getting pummeled by the public. You saw it with Apple Intelligence that was sold as the reason to get an iPhone 16, but in reality just was just dumb gimmicks, like genmoji. And now you see it with CarPlay Ultra.

I guarantee you there are programmers and designers inside Apple who know CarPlay Ultra wasn't ready to ship, but were overruled by managers who felt they needed to stick to their contractual obligations, quality be damned.

That's what happens when there's a lack of leadership who actually care about quality, about customers, and about the product. Who would be pained to let something as dodgy as this go out the door. When that's absent, the train wreck that everyone can see a mile away is going to happen is simply allowed to happen. Nobody reaches for the emergency brake, nobody wants to take responsibility to avoid disaster.

This is why companies led by founders tend to have much better products. Steve Jobs didn't always get it right, but you know that he and Jony Ive would have been in physical pain to see the Apple logo on something this laggy and broken. (Or so you'd hope, Ive did preside, towards the end of his time at Apple, over the five dark years of catastrophically unreliable MacBook keyboards!).

It's the same thing with the alarm bug in the iPhone. My wife, along with millions of others, judging from the endless online reports of the problem, has been struggling with the fact that the phone will randomly, intermittently just refuse to wake her in the morning. The alarm time will come and go, but there's no buzzing, no sound.

This has been going on for years. But that's just how it is, apparently, with the iPhone. Maybe the alarm works, maybe it doesn't. Good luck if you need to get up early for the airport or an important appointment.

Again, the problem is not the bug, it's the lack of ownership. All software has bugs! I've written many of them myself. But when we talk the type that has the criticality of making someone miss a flight or lose the gauge cluster on the road at night, you need to treat that like a CODE RED, and get all hands on deck to deal with it.

Apple has lost the power to do this. Because they've lost the will to say no. Because they've lost the last asshole who could insist that quality should count above quarterly earnings (as if the two even ought to be in opposition)!

If you leave the bozos in charge for too long, the entire organization will be shaped in their image. Tim Cook was a masterful logistics hand to Jobs, but he's been a bozo on product, quality, and care.

He's gotta go.

Debates, at their finest, are about exploring topics together in search for truth. That probably sounds hopelessly idealistic to anyone who've ever perused a comment section on the internet, but ideals are there to remind us of what's possible, to inspire us to reach higher — even if reality falls short.

I've been reaching for those debating ideals for thirty years on the internet. I've argued with tens of thousands of people, first on Usenet, then in blog comments, then Twitter, now X, and also LinkedIn — as well as a million other places that have come and gone. It's mostly been about technology, but occasionally about society and morality too.

There have been plenty of heated moments during those three decades. It doesn't take much for a debate between strangers on this internet to escalate into something far lower than a "search for truth", and I've often felt willing to settle for just a cordial tone!

But for the majority of that time, I never felt like things might escalate beyond the keyboards and into the real world. That was until we had our big blow-up at 37signals back in 2021. I suddenly got to see a different darkness from the most vile corners of the internet. Heard from those who seem to prowl for a mob-sanctioned opportunity to threaten and intimidate those they disagree with.

It fundamentally changed me. But I used the experience as a mirror to reflect on the ways my own engagement with the arguments occasionally felt too sharp, too personal. And I've since tried to refocus way more of my efforts on the positive and the productive. I'm by no means perfect, and the internet often tempts the worst in us, but I resist better now than I did then.

What I cannot come to terms with, though, is the modern equation of words with violence. The growing sense of permission that if the disagreement runs deep enough, then violence is a justified answer to settle it. That sounds so obvious that we shouldn't need to state it in a civil society, but clearly it is not.

Not even in technology. Not even in programming. There are plenty of factions here who've taken to justify their violent fantasies by referring to their ideological opponents as "nazis", "fascists", or "racists". And then follow that up with a call to "punch a nazi" or worse.

When you hear something like that often enough, it's easy to grow glib about it. That it's just a saying. They don't mean it. But I'm afraid many of them really do.

Which brings us to Charlie Kirk. And the technologists who name drinks at their bar after his mortal wound just hours after his death, to name but one of the many, morbid celebrations of the famous conservative debater's death.

It's sickening. Deeply, profoundly sickening.

And my first instinct was exactly what such people would delight in happening. To watch the rest of us recoil, then retract, and perhaps even eject. To leave the internet for a while or forever. But I can't do that. We shouldn't do that.

Instead, we should double down on the opposite. Continue to show up with our ideals held high while we debate strangers in that noble search for the truth. Where we share our excitement, our enthusiasm, and our love of technology, country, and humanity.

I think that's what Charlie Kirk did so well. Continued to show up for the debate. Even on hostile territory. Not because he thought he was ever going to convince everyone, but because he knew he'd always reach some with a good argument, a good insight, or at least a different perspective.

You could agree or not. Counter or be quiet. But the earnest exploration of the topics in a live exchange with another human is as fundamental to our civilization as Socrates himself.

Don't give up, don't give in. Keep debating.

The first Rails World in Amsterdam was a roaring success back in 2023. Tickets sold out in 45 minutes, the atmosphere was electric, and The Rails Foundation set a new standard for conference execution in the Ruby community.

So when we decided to return to the Dutch Capital for the third edition of the conference this year, the expectations were towering. And yet, Amanda Perino, our executive director and event organizer extraordinaire, managed to outdo herself, and produced an even better show this year. 

The venue we returned to was already at capacity the first time around, but Amanda managed to fit a third more attendees by literally using slimmer chairs! And I didn't hear any complaints the folks who had to sit a little closer together in order for more people to enjoy the gathering.

The increased capacity didn't come close to satisfy the increased demand, though. This year, tickets sold out in less than two minutes. Crazy. But for the 800+ people who managed to secure a pass, I'm sure it felt worth the refresh-the-website scramble to buy a ticket.  

And, as in years past, Amanda's recording crew managed to turn around post-production on my keynote in less than 24 hours, so anyone disappointed with missing out on a ticket could at least be in the loop on all the awesome new Rails stuff we were releasing up to and during the conference. Every other session was recorded too, and will soon be on the Rails YouTube channel.

You can't stream the atmosphere, the enthusiasm, and the genuine love of Ruby on Rails, though. I was once again blown away by just how many incredible people and stories we have in this ecosystem. From entrepreneurs who've built million (or billion!) dollar businesses on Rails, to programmers who've been around the framework for decades, to people who just picked it up this year. It was a thrill to meet all of them, to take hundreds of selfies, and to talk about Ruby, Rails, and the Omarchy expansion pack for hours on the hallway track!

I've basically stopped doing prepared presentations at conferences, but Rails World is the one exception. I really try my best to put on a good show, present the highlights of what we've been working on in the past year at 37signals, and transfer the never-ending enthusiasm I continue to feel for this framework, this programming language, and this ecosystem. 

True, I may occasionally curse that commitment in the weeks leading up to the conference, but the responsibility is always rewarded during and after the execution with a deep sense of satisfaction. Not everyone is so lucky as I've been to find their life's work early in their career, and see it continue to blossom over the decades. I'm eternally grateful that I have.

Of course, there's been ups and downs over the years — nothing is ever just a straight line of excitement up and to the right! — but we're oh-so-clearly on the up-up-up part of that curve at the moment. I don't know whether it's just the wind or the whims, but Rails is enjoying an influx of a new generation of programmers at the moment.

No doubt it helps when I get to wax poetically about Ruby for an hour with Lex Fridman in front of an audience of millions. No doubt Shopify's continued success eating the world of ecommerce helps. No doubt the stability, professionalism, and execution from The Rails Foundation is an aid. There are many auxiliary reasons why we're riding a wave at the moment, but key to it all is also that Ruby on Rails is simply really, really good!

Next year, with RailsConf finished, it's time to return to the US. Amanda has picked a great spot in Austin, we're planning to dramatically expand the capacity, but I also fully expect that demand will continue to rise, especially in the most prosperous and successful market for Rails.

Thanks again to all The Rails Foundation members who believed in the vision for a new institution back in 2022. It looks like a no-brainer to join such a venture now, given the success of Rails World and everything else, but it actually took guts to sign on back then.

I approached quite a few companies at that time who could see the value, but couldn't find the courage to support our work, as our industry was still held hostage to a band of bad ideas and terrible ideologies.

All that nonsense is thankfully now long gone in the Rails world. We're enjoying a period of peak unity, excitement, progress, and determination to continue to push for end-to-end problem solving, open source, and freedom.

I can't tell you how happy it makes me feel when I hear from yet another programmer who credits Ruby on Rails with finding joy and beauty in the writing web applications because of what I started over 22 years ago. It may sound trite, but it's true: It's an honor and a privilege. I hope to carry this meaningful burden for as long as my intellectual legs still let me stand.

See you next year in Austin? I hope so!

The best engineering teams take control of their tools. They help develop the frameworks and libraries they depend on, and they do this by running production code on edge — the unreleased next version. That's where progress is made, that's where participation matters most.

This sounds scary at first. Edge? Isn't that just another word for danger? What if there's a bug?! Yes, what if? Do you think bugs either just magically appear or disappear? No, they're put there by programmers and removed by the very same. If you want bug-free frameworks and libraries, you have to work for it, but if you do, the reward for your responsibility is increased engineering excellence.

Take Rails 8.1, as an example. We just released the first beta version at Rails World, but Shopify, GitHub, 37signals, and a handful of other frontier teams have already been running this code in production for almost a year. Of course, there were bugs along the way, but good automated testing and diligent programmers caught virtually all of them before they went to production.

It didn't always used to be this way. Once upon a time, I felt like I had one of the only teams running Rails on edge in production. But now two of the most important web apps in the world are doing the same! At an incredible scale and criticality.

This has allowed both of them, and the few others with the same frontier ambition, to foster a truly elite engineering culture. One that isn't just a consumer of open source software, but a real-time co-creator. This is a step function in competence and prowess for any team.

It's also an incredible motivation boost. When your programmers are able to directly influence the tools they're working with, they're far more likely to do so, and thus they go deeper, learn more, and create connections to experts in the same situation elsewhere. But this requires being able to immediately use the improvements or bug fixes they help devise. It doesn't work if you sit around waiting patiently for the next release before you dare dive in.

Far more companies could do this. Far more companies should do this. Whether it's with Ruby, Rails, Omarchy, or whatever you're using, your team could level up by getting more involved, taking responsibility for finding issues on edge, and reaping the reward of excellence in the process. So what are you waiting on?

Omarchy 2.0 was released on Linux's 34th birthday as a gift to perhaps the greatest open-source project the world has ever known. Not only does Linux run 95% of all servers on the web, billions of devices as an embedded OS, but it also turns out to be an incredible desktop environment!

It's crazy that it took me more than thirty years to realize this, but while I spent time in Apple's walled garden, the free software alternative simply grew better, stronger, and faster. The Linux of 2025 is not the Linux of the 90s or the 00s or even the 10s. It's shockingly more polished, capable, and beautiful.

It's been an absolute honor to celebrate Linux with the making of Omarchy, the new Linux distribution that I've spent the last few months building on top of Arch and Hyprland. What began as a post-install script has turned into a full-blown ISO, dedicated package repository, and flourishing community of thousands of enthusiasts all collaborating on making it better.

It's been improving rapidly with over twenty releases since the premiere in late June, but this Version 2.0 update is the biggest one yet. If you've been curious about giving Linux a try, you're not afraid of an operating system that asks you to level up and learn a little, and you want to see what a totally different computing experience can look and feel like, I invite you to give it a go.

Here's a full tour of Omarchy 2.0.