This is a great explanation. I started an open source project that was reasonably popular because I was off for two weeks and had a problem I wanted to solve. Before those two weeks were up, I had completed everything I set out to do. I didn’t really expect anyone else to use it or care. But they did, and over the next 2-3 years I burned myself out testing different distro configurations, debating with people on mailing lists on other projects that affected mine, responding to hundreds or thousands of issues that came in, coordinating language translations, reviewing pull requests, etc. I kept going thinking that maybe it would look good on my resume or lead to work in the future, but the only person in an interview that had heard of it told me he disagreed with its existence!
Even though I had total control of the project, it was so hard to keep my original vision in place. Should I turn down an incredibly ingenious pull request because it didn’t fit my original vision, even though many other people will use it? But if I accept it, it’s another complexity to maintain. What about a pull request that meets a lot of goals but is only half way there in terms of implementation - do I take my time to finish that? Some of the people arguing in the ecosystem were paid employees of Canonical, Microsoft or some other entity that seemingly had nothing to do all day but try to bend projects to their will. I really had no time left to deal with my own interests in improving the project.
I know this is a long rant, but many of the projects in the Linux ecosystem are maintained by people in a similar situation. It’s pretty amazing that it’s as cohesive as it is.
It’s pretty amazing that it’s as cohesive as it is.
That’s a very good point. I’ve often wondered that myself. We may have reached peak Linux already - it’s so hard to scale up massive FOSS projects without somehow sacrificing ideals on the way.
This is a great explanation. I started an open source project that was reasonably popular because I was off for two weeks and had a problem I wanted to solve. Before those two weeks were up, I had completed everything I set out to do. I didn’t really expect anyone else to use it or care. But they did, and over the next 2-3 years I burned myself out testing different distro configurations, debating with people on mailing lists on other projects that affected mine, responding to hundreds or thousands of issues that came in, coordinating language translations, reviewing pull requests, etc. I kept going thinking that maybe it would look good on my resume or lead to work in the future, but the only person in an interview that had heard of it told me he disagreed with its existence!
Even though I had total control of the project, it was so hard to keep my original vision in place. Should I turn down an incredibly ingenious pull request because it didn’t fit my original vision, even though many other people will use it? But if I accept it, it’s another complexity to maintain. What about a pull request that meets a lot of goals but is only half way there in terms of implementation - do I take my time to finish that? Some of the people arguing in the ecosystem were paid employees of Canonical, Microsoft or some other entity that seemingly had nothing to do all day but try to bend projects to their will. I really had no time left to deal with my own interests in improving the project.
I know this is a long rant, but many of the projects in the Linux ecosystem are maintained by people in a similar situation. It’s pretty amazing that it’s as cohesive as it is.
That’s a very good point. I’ve often wondered that myself. We may have reached peak Linux already - it’s so hard to scale up massive FOSS projects without somehow sacrificing ideals on the way.