There’s a watchmaking tradition where the case back is made of sapphire crystal, allowing you to observe the movement. The gears, jewels, and escapement wheel oscillating with mechanical precision and a certain aesthetic appeal. It’s a celebration of craftsmanship and care. An invitation to appreciate not just the function of the watch, but the artistry and engineering that went into its creation.
These days in software, much of our work is hidden. The source code is minified and obfuscated. Layers of abstraction separate both creator and consumer from the underlying mechanisms that bring digital experiences to life.
But I come from a time of manually writing and indenting HTML and CSS. No “Prettier” formatting my code on save, and even no syntax highlighting. A time where we took great pride in our craftsmanship and the readability of our code. When we would argue about spaces vs tabs. It was code that was meant to be read and understood by others.
You could read a function and tell who wrote it, their voice was present. I ‘grew up’ on languages like Ruby that embraced a slightly poetic approach to expressing intent. Back then, the code arrived in your browser without much fuss. It was a much simpler time. I understand why many of our current practices have evolved the way they have, but there was a certain joy in creating something that was both functional, elegant, and slightly unique or quirky. And perhaps most importantly, it was something that could be appreciated by anyone who cared to look under the hood.
What would it mean to bring back some of this ethos? What if we designed our internal systems to be seen? Not just for debugging in browser tools, but for anyone curious enough to wonder: how does this work?
I want to do small experiments in that direction. More than just pretty source code when you view it. Not much has changed in the blog yet, these are just my musings. But I want to explore ways to make the inner workings of my digital creations more visible and appreciable.
It represents my desire to take pride in my craft. Not as a technical flex, but as a meditation on care. The medium is the message.