Journal

This isn’t a rhetorical question. I genuinely want to know why developers choose to build websites using React.

There are many possible reasons. Alas, none of them relate directly to user experience, other than a trickle-down justification: happy productive developers will make better websites. Citation needed.

It’s also worth mentioning that some people don’t choose to use React, but its use is mandated by their workplace (like some other more recent technologies I could mention). By my definition, this makes React enterprise software in this situation. My definition of enterprise software is any software that you use but that you yourself didn’t choose.

Inertia

By far the most common reason for choosing React today is inertia. If it’s what you’re comfortable with, you’d need a really compelling reason not to use it. That’s generally the reason behind usage mandates too. If we “standardise” on React, then it’ll make hiring more straightforward (though the reality isn’t quite so simple, as the React ecosystem has mutated and bifurcated over time).

And you know what? Inertia is a perfectly valid reason to choose a technology. If time is of the essence, and you know it’s going to take you time to learn a new technology, it makes sense to stick with what you know, even if it’s out of date. This isn’t just true of React, it’s true of any tech stack.

This would all be absolutely fine if React weren’t a framework that gets executed in browsers. Any client-side framework is a tax on the end user. They have to download, parse, and execute the framework in order for you to benefit.

But maybe React doesn’t need to run in the browser at all. That’s the promise of server-side rendering.

The front end

There used to be a fairly clear distinction between front-end development and back-end development. The front end consisted of HTML, CSS, and client-side JavaScript. The back end was anything you wanted as long as it could spit out those bits of the front end: PHP, Ruby, Python, or even just a plain web server with static files.

Then it became possible to write JavaScript on the back end. Great! Now you didn’t need to context-switch when you were scripting for the client or the server. But this blessing also turned out to be a bit of a curse.

When you’re writing code for the back end, some things matter more than others. File size, for example, isn’t really a concern. Your code can get really long and it probably won’t slow down the execution. And if it does, you can always buy your way out of the problem by getting a more powerful server.

On the front end, your code should have different priorities. File size matters, especially with JavaScript. The code won’t be executed on your server. It’s executed on all sorts of devices on all sorts of networks running all sorts of browsers. If things get slow, you can’t buy your way out of the problem because you can’t buy every single one of your users a new device and a new network plan.

Now that JavaScript can run on the server as well as the client, it’s tempting to just treat the code the same. It’s the same language after all. But the context really matters. Some JavaScript that’s perfectly fine to run on the server can be a resource hog on the client.

And this is where it gets interesting with React. Because most of the things people like about React still apply on the back end.

React developers

When React first appeared, it was touted as front-end tool. State management and a near-magical virtual DOM were the main selling points.

Over time, that’s changed. The claimed speed benefits of the virtual DOM turned out to be just plain false. That just left state management.

But by that time, the selling points had changed. The component-based architecture turned out to be really popular. Developers liked JSX. A lot. Once you got used to it, it was a neat way to encapsulate little bits of functionality into building blocks that can be combined in all sorts of ways.

For the longest time, I didn’t realise this had happened. I was still thinking of React as being a framework like jQuery. But React is a framework like Rails or Django. As a developer, it’s where you do all your work. Heck, it’s pretty much your identity.

But whereas Rails or Django run on the back end, React runs on the front end …except when it doesn’t.

JavaScript can run on the server, which means React can run on the server. It’s entirely possible to have your React cake and eat it. You can write all of your code in React without serving up a single line of React to your users.

That’s true in theory. The devil is in the tooling.

Priorities

Next.js allows you to write in React and do server-side rendering. But it really, really wants to output React to the client as well.

By default, you get the dreaded hydration pattern—do all the computing on the server in JavaScript (yay!), serve up HTML straight away (yay! yay!) …and then serve up all the same JavaScript that’s on the server anyway (ya—wait, what?).

It’s possible to get Next.js to skip that last step, but it’s not easy. You’ll be battling it every step of the way.

Astro takes a very different approach. It will do everything it can to keep the client-side JavaScript to a minimum. Developers get to keep their beloved JSX authoring environment without penalising users.

Alas, the collective inertia of the “modern” development community is bound up in the React/Next/Vercel ecosystem. That’s a shame, because Astro shows us that it doesn’t have to be this way.

Switching away from using React on the front end doesn’t mean you have to switch away from using React on the back end.

Why use React?

The titular question I asked is too broad and naïve. There are plenty of reasons to use React, just as there are plenty of reasons to use Wordpress, Eleventy, or any other technology that works on the back end. If it’s what you like or what you’re comfortable with, that’s reason enough.

All I really care about is the front end. I’m not going to pass judgment on anyone’s choice of server-side framework, as long as it doesn’t impact what you can do in the client. Like Harry says:

…if you’re going to use one, I shouldn’t be able to smell it.

Here’s the question I should be asking:

Why use React in the browser?

Because if the reason you’re using React is cultural—the whole team works in JSX, it makes hiring easier—then there’s probably no need to make your users download React.

If you’re making a single-page app, then …well, the first thing you should do is ask yourself if it really needs to be a single-page app. They should be the exception, not the default. But if you’re determined to make a single-page app, then I can see why state management becomes very important.

In that situation, try shipping Preact instead of React. As a developer, you’ll almost certainly notice no difference, but your users will appreciate the refreshing lack of bloat.

Mostly though, I’d encourage you to investigate what you can do with vanilla JavaScript in the browser. I totally get why you’d want to hold on to React as an authoring environment, but don’t let your framework limit what you can do on the front end. If you use React on the client, you’re not doing your users any favours.

You can continue to write in React. You can continue to use JSX. You can continue to hire React developers. But keep it on your machine. For your users, make the most of what web browsers can do.

Once you keep React on the server, then a whole world of possibilities opens up on the client. Web browsers have become incredibly powerful in what they offer you. Don’t let React-on-the-client hold you back.

And if you want to know more about what web browsers are capable of today, come to Web Day Out in Brighton on Thursday, 12th March 2026.

As part of their on-stage banter, The Dubliners used to quip that “All the books that are banned in Ireland should be published in Irish, to encourage more people to learn their native tongue.”

There was no shortage of banned books back in the day. I’m reading one of them now. The Country Girls by Edna O’Brien.

About halfway through the book, I read this passage:

The parcels for the Halloween party were coming every day. I couldn’t ask my father for one because a man is not able to do these things, so I wrote to him for money instead and a day girl brought me a barmbrack, apples, and monkey-nuts.

Emphasis mine, because that little list sounded so familiar to me.

Back in 2011, I wrote a candygram for Jason. It was called Monkey nuts, barmbrack and apples.

It’s not exactly Edna O’Brien, but looking back at it fifteen years on, I think it turned out okay.

The line-up for Web Day Out is now complete! The final speaker to be added to the line-up is the one and only Manuel Matuzovič.

You may know Manuel from his superb Web Accessibility Cookbook (full disclosure: I had the honour of writing the foreword to that book). Or perhaps you’re familiar with the crimes against markup that he documents at HTMHell. But at Web Day Out, he’s going to be talking about CSS.

The past few years have seen a veritable explosion in CSS capabilities. It’s one thing to hear about all the new stuff in CSS, but how do you actually start using it?

You may need to unlearn what you have previously learned. That’s what Manuel’s talk will be covering:

Manuel built a new project from scratch with modern CSS and questioned every line of code he wrote.

In this talk, he presents what he has learned and encourages you to review your best practices.

You can see why I’m so excited about this—it’s perfect for the agenda of Web Day Out:

Do you feel like you’re missing out on some of the latest advances in HTML, CSS, and JavaScript APIs? Web Day Out is your chance to get up to speed on what matters.

There’ll be eight brilliant speakers for your entertainment:

1. Jemima Abu
2. Rachel Andrew
3. Jake Archibald
4. Aleth Gueguen
5. Manuel Matuzovič
6. Lola Odelola
7. Harry Roberts
8. Richard Rutter

You won’t want to miss this, so get your ticket now for the ludicrously reasonable price of just £225+VAT!

See you in Brighton on 12 March 2026!

I find Brian Eno to be a fascinating chap. His music isn’t my cup of tea, but I really enjoy hearing his thoughts on art, creativity, and culture.

I’ve always loved this short piece he wrote about singing with other people. I’ve passed that link onto multiple people who have found a deep joy in singing with a choir:

Singing aloud leaves you with a sense of levity and contentedness. And then there are what I would call “civilizational benefits.” When you sing with a group of people, you learn how to subsume yourself into a group consciousness because a capella singing is all about the immersion of the self into the community. That’s one of the great feelings — to stop being me for a little while and to become us. That way lies empathy, the great social virtue.

Then there’s the whole Long Now thing, a phrase that originated with him:

I noticed that this very local attitude to space in New York paralleled a similarly limited attitude to time. Everything was exciting, fast, current, and temporary. Enormous buildings came and went, careers rose and crashed in weeks. You rarely got the feeling that anyone had the time to think two years ahead, let alone ten or a hundred. Everyone seemed to be passing through. It was undeniably lively, but the downside was that it seemed selfish, irresponsible and randomly dangerous. I came to think of this as “The Short Now”, and this suggested the possibility of its opposite - “The Long Now”.

I was listening to my Huffduffer feed recently, where I had saved yet another interview with Brian Eno. Sure enough, there was plenty of interesting food for thought, but the bit that stood out to me was relevant to, of all things, prototyping:

I have an architect friend called Rem Koolhaas. He’s a Dutch architect, and he uses this phrase, “the premature sheen.” In his architectural practice, when they first got computers and computers were first good enough to do proper renderings of things, he said everything looked amazing at first.

You could construct a building in half an hour on the computer, and you’d have this amazing-looking thing, but, he said, “It didn’t help us make good buildings. It helped us make things that looked like they might be good buildings.”

I went to visit him one day when they were working on a big new complex for some place in Texas, and they were using matchboxes and pens and packets of tissues. It was completely analog, and there was no sense at all that this had any relationship to what the final product would be, in terms of how it looked.

It meant that what you were thinking about was: How does it work? What do we want it to be like to be in that place? You started asking the important questions again, not: What kind of facing should we have on the building or what color should the stone be?

I keep thinking about that insight: “It didn’t help us make good buildings. It helped us make things that looked like they might be good buildings.”

Substitute the word “buildings” for whatever output is supposedly being revolutionised by generative models today. Websites. Articles. Public policy.

If you’re building software, it’s generally a good idea to avoid the Not-Invented-Here syndrome. This is when you insist on writing absolutely everything from scratch even if it would make more sense to use a third-party provider.

Need your app to take payments? Don’t try to become your own payment provider—use an existing provider instead.

Need your app to send email? Don’t try to code all that up yourself—just use an existing service.

This same thinking seems to apply to JavaScript libraries too. If you don’t use a library or framework, you’ll just end up writing your own library or framework instead, right?

Except that’s not the way that JavaScript frameworks work. At least not any more.

There was a time when JavaScript libraries really did abstract away browser differences that you probably didn’t want to deal with yourself. In the early days of jQuery—before querySelector existed—trying to work with the DOM could be a real pain. Libraries like jQuery helped avoid that pain.

Maybe it was even true in the early days of Angular and React. If you were trying to handle navigations yourself, it probably made sense to use a framework.

But that’s not the case any more, and hasn’t been for quite a while.

These days, client-side JavaScript frameworks don’t abstract away the underlying platform, they instead try to be an alternative. In fact, if you attempt to use web platform features, your JavaScript framework will often get in the way. You have to wait until your framework of choice supports a feature like view transitions before you get to use it.

This is nuts. Developers are choosing to use tools that actively get in the way of the web platform.

I think that most developers have the mental model of JavaScript frameworks completely backwards. They believe that the framework saves them time and effort (just like a payment provider or an email service). Instead these frameworks are simply limiting the possibility space of what you can do in web browsers today.

When you use a JavaScript framework, that isn’t the end of your work, it’s just the beginning. You still have to write your own code that makes use of that framework. Except now your code is restricted to only what the framework can do.

And yet most developers still believe that using a JavaScript framework somehow enables them to do more.

Jim Nielsen has a great framing on this. JavaScript libraries aren’t like payment providers or email services. Rather, it’s the features built into web browsers today that are like these third-party providers. When you use these features, you’re benefiting from all the work that the browser makers have put into making them as efficient as possible:

Browser makers have teams of people who, day-in and day-out, are spending lots of time developing and optimizing new their offerings.

So if you leverage what they offer you, that gives you an advantage because you don’t have to build it yourself.

Want to do nifty page transitions? Don’t use a library. Use view transitions.

Want to animate parts of the page as the user scrolls? Don’t use a library. Use scroll-driven animations.

Want to make something happen when the user clicks? Don’t use a library. For the love of all that is holy, just use a button.

If you agree that using a button makes more sense than using a div, then I encourage you to apply the same thinking to everything else your app needs to do.

Take advantage of all the wonderful things you can do in web browsers today. If instead you decide to use a JavaScript framework, you’re basically inventing from scratch.

Except now all of your users pay the price because they’re the ones who have to download the JavaScript framework when they use your app.

UX London will be back in 2026. It’s on June 2nd, 3rd, and 4th:

Each day features a morning packed with inspiring talks followed by an afternoon of practical hands-on workshops. It’s the perfect blend!

As with last year, each day will be themed:

• 2 June 2026: discovery day
• 3 June 2026: design day
• 4 June 2026: delivery day

You can come for a single day, but for best value, you should come for all three days.

I’m starting to put the line-up together now—hoping to match the excellence of last year’s event—and I’ll start announcing speakers early in the new year.

But if you trust me, then I highly recommend getting a super-early bird ticket now. They’ll only be available for another couple of weeks. You get a significant discount if you buy now.

Oh, and while I’m in the process of putting the line-up together, you should know that you can submit a talk or workshop proposal:

We always pay ALL our speakers for their time as well as covering the cost of accommodation and economy travel.

Don’t be shy! Pitch early, pitch often.

(That said, I wouldn’t recommend pitching a talk that focuses on “AI”. It’s not just that the bubble will probably have burst by the time UX London rolls around, it’s also that UX London doesn’t tend to focus on tools, whether they’re graphic design tools like Figma or generative tools like whatever people are using to turbo-charge their output of slop. If you’ve got a case study you want to talk about that happened to use some “AI” tool, great! But don’t make that the focus of the talk. Tell me about the problem and the solution.)

England is criss-crossed by routes that were originally laid down by the Romans. When it came time to construct modern roads, it often made sense to use these existing routes rather than trying to designate entirely new ones. So some of the roads in England are like an early kind of desire path.

Desire paths are something of a cliché in the UX world. They’re the perfect metaphor for user-centred design; instead of trying to make people take a pre-defined route, let them take the route that’s easiest for them and then codify that route.

This idea was enshrined into the very design principles of HTML as “pave the cowpaths”:

When a practice is already widespread among authors, consider adopting it rather than forbidding it or inventing something new.

Ireland never had any Roman roads. But it’s always had plenty of cowpaths.

The Irish word for cow is bó.

The Irish word for road is bóthar, which literally means “cowpath”.

The cowpaths were paved in both the landscape and the language.

Almost two months ago, I put out the call for speaker suggestions for Web Day Out. I got some good responses—thank you to everyone who took the time to get in touch.

The response that really piqued my interest was from Aleth Gueguen. She proposed a talk on progressive web apps, backed up with plenty of experience. The more I thought about it, the more I realised how perfect it would be for Web Day Out.

So I’m very pleased to announce that Aleth will be speaking at Web Day Out about progressive web apps from the trenches:

Find out about the most important capabilities in progressive web apps and how to put them to work.

I’m really excited about this line-up! This is going to be a day out that you won’t want to miss. Get your ticket for a mere £225+VAT if you haven’t already!

See you in Brighton on 12 March, 2026!

On the last day of UX London this year, I was sitting and chatting with Rachel Coldicutt who was going to be giving the closing keynote. Inevitably the topic of converstation worked its way ’round to “AI”. I remember Rachel having a good laugh when I summarised my overall feeling:

I kind of wish I could go into suspended animation and be woken up when all this is over and things have settled down one way or another.

I still feel that way. Like Gina, I’d welcome a measured approach to this technology. As Anil puts it:

Technologies like LLMs have utility, but the absurd way they’ve been over-hyped, the fact they’re being forced on everyone, and the insistence on ignoring the many valid critiques about them make it very difficult to focus on legitimate uses where they might add value.

I very much look forward to using language models (probably small and local) to automate genuinely tedious tasks. That’s a very different vision to what the slopagandists are pushing. Or, like Paul Ford says:

Make it boring. That’s what’s interesting.

Fortunately, my cryosleep-awakening probably isn’t be too far off. You can smell it in the air, that whiff of a bubble about to burst. And while it will almost certainly be messy, it’s long overdue.

Paul Ford again:

I’ve felt so alienated from tech over the past couple of years. Part of it is the craven authoritarianism. It dampens the mood. But another part is the monolithic narrative—the fact that we live in a world where there seem to be only a few companies, only a few stories going at any time, and everything reduces to politics. God, please let it end.

I had a very pleasant experience last week while I was reading through the RSS feeds I’m subscribed to. I came across two blog posts that were responding to blog posts of my own.

Robin Sloan wrote a post clarifying his position after I linked to him in my post about the slipperiness of the term “AI”.

Then Jim Nielsen wrote a deliciously satirical piece in response to my pithy little parable about research.

I love it when this happens!

Elizabeth Spiers recently wrote a piece called What Made Blogging Different?:

And if they wanted to respond to you, they had to do it on their own blog, and link back. The effect of this was that there were few equivalents of the worst aspects of social media that broke through.

It’s so true. I feel like a response from someone’s own website is exponentially more valuable than a response on Bluesky, Mastodon, Instagram, or any other social media platform.

Don’t get me wrong: I absolutely love the way that Brid.gy will send those social-media responses right back here to my own site in the form of webmentions. It also pings me whenever someone likes or shares a post of mine. But I’ve noticed that I’m not that interested in those anymore.

Maybe those low-investment actions were carried over from the old days of Twitter just because that’s the way things were always done, without us really asking whether they serve much purpose.

Right now I accept these likes and shares as webmentions. I display a tally of each kind of response under my posts. But I’m not sure why I’m doing it. I don’t particularly care about these numbers. I’m pretty sure no one else cares either.

If I cared, then they’d be vanity metrics. As it is they’re more like zombie metrics. I should probably just put them out of their misery.