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Monthly Meanderings: March 2026

2026-04-01T00:00:00Z

Since last month’s update I’ve been unpleasantly reminded that I’m middle aged, through the medium of a dodgy knee. There’s nothing quite like not being able to stand up without groaning to underscore that you’re not young any more. The ongoing game of “will this seemingly mundane activity make my knee go funny again?” is a delight to play, too. I’m great at it.

Website updates

Two new blog posts this month: the longest way to represent a date is a short thought experiment on absurd date formats, and modern CSS is fun goes through some neat new CSS features I’ve used recently for this site.

I did some design tweaks this month: headers now have a blue background behind them¹, and a lot of components have been redesigned to have a consistent style. You can see that component in action in the new “now playing” widget I’ve added:

Alien Ant Farm — Flesh and Bone ANThology Scrobbled 3m ago

Instead of each component defining its own styles (which were mostly copied and pasted), there’s now a single class that handles the drop shadow, border, background colour, and the optional title. It also applies a consistent format to elements that are clickable: they use the blue accent colour for their borders, and have a glow effect shown on hover.

The now playing widget is part of a larger bit of work I did on importing some music stats. I’m pulling in the data from my Navidrome instance. A new music page shows my most listened albums and artists. Navidrome doesn’t store a complete play history, just the last play and the count, so I can’t do “what I listened to last month” stats until next month.

Other projects

Other than a minor bug-fix update to contempt, my Dockerfile templating/updating tool, I’ve not done much on my other open source projects. I’ve got a bit more work to do finish migrating all my repositories from GitHub to my private Forgejo instance. I’ve also been thinking about mirroring my public repositories to Codeberg so there’s a non-GitHub way to access them.

Entertainment

I apparently only watched a single film in March:

The Substance

2026-03-18

I really didn’t get on with this. It’s too long for what it is, and over-the-top in a way that just didn’t work for me.

Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley were great, but nothing else really was. The cinematography and sound design were too affected, the plot was pretty shallow and obvious, most of the body horror fell into the uncanny CGI valley for me.

It’s not completely without merit: there were around 40 minutes in the middle where I was really into it, but that’s not really enough given it’s closing in on a 2.5 hour runtime.

There’s something to be said for the message it’s presenting about women in Hollywood, too, but it was very heavy handed. Dennis Quaid’s character is even called Harvey; it’s not so much a subtle nod as a sledgehammer to the face.

Instead of films, I’ve been watching a bunch of TV. After devouring The Pitt last month, I struggled to find something to fill the hole it left. I settled on catching up on Chicago Fire and Chicago P.D.. They’re both mostly about getting things done without personal drama becoming the primary focus. They’re not quite as grounded as The Pitt, but at least they’ve not completely gone off the deep end like 9-1-1 where the first responders end up in space somehow?

I’ve also watched the first two episodes of SNL UK. I didn’t have very high expectations, and it gave me a pleasant surprise. Both episodes so far have some hilarious sketches, and are obviously written by British comics with the typical darker, more sardonic humour that separates us from the USA.

Last but not least, board games! I spent a weekend at a tabletop/LAN event with friends, so got to physically play some games for a change. I also kept up with some turn-based games on Board Game Arena, as usual.

6 plays
4 plays
4 plays
4 plays
3 plays
3 plays
3 plays
2 plays
2 plays
2 plays
2 plays
2 plays
1 play

Around the web

Warranty Void if Regenerated

Some really cool speculative fiction about a future where all software is written by LLMs, and the social effects that may have. Unfortunately the story itself is written with an LLM, and that becomes painfully obvious about a third of the way in. By that point I was already hooked, though.

My 2-step process for AI-free blogging

Speaking of LLM-generated text, this short piece by Manuel Moreale made me laugh. I’m by no means anti-LLM, but I really hate people publishing the output like it’s their own work. It breaks the social assumption that the writer put more effort in than the reader, and makes me wonder how much is hallucinated.

25 Years of Eggs

An interesting applied use of coding agents. I’m a sucker for personal statistics. I have no explicit desire to keep my receipts, or generate graphs of my egg consumption, but seeing the graphs makes me question that. The journey to get there is a great read, too.

I made a one-page notebook

The clever paper folding is interesting, but I really like some of the small touches on the page. There’s a nice little “in reply to” callout providing context at the top of the page, you can click to rotate the image further down, and there’s a details element containing a textual version of it. It has that great ‘small web’ vibe of someone who really cares about what they’re doing.

Workers who love ‘synergizing paradigms’ might be bad at their jobs

I haven’t read the full paper, but the summary given by the article is equal parts interesting and amusing. They developed a “Corporate Bullshit Receptivity Scale”, what more is there to say?

It’s meant to resemble painter’s tape, but I’m not sure quite how well it works. ↩︎

Modern CSS is fun

2026-03-17T00:00:00Z

I’ve been doing a bunch of CSS tweaking recently, and keep being surprised by how nice modern CSS is to work with. As someone grey-haired enough to remember writing HTML without CSS, it’s amazing to think how far along web technology has come¹. I wanted to demonstrate some of the handy bits and pieces I’ve used recently.

:has

The :has selector allows you to effectively query for child elements. While a span will match a <span> within an <a>, a:has(span) will match an <a> that contains a <span>. This really shines when combined with more complex selectors, for example:

input {
    border-radius: var(--border-radius);

    &:has(+ .results:not(:empty)) {
        border-bottom-left-radius: 0;
        border-bottom-right-radius: 0;
    }
}

This is part of the styling for my film search box. When the search box is presented initially it has fully rounded corners. But when it is followed by a non-empty results element, it removes the rounding on the bottom corners so that the border continues in a straight line down into the results. You can see it in action below; just enter a few characters (like “the”) to get some results:

You could achieve the same effect by having JavaScript add a class to the <input> element, but I’ll take a CSS solution over a JavaScript solution any day.

Nested rules

You probably spotted this in the example above. It’s what finally made me switch from SCSS to plain CSS. If you have a rule for .foo and a rule for .foo .bar you can just nest them. Not only does it save repeating yourself an awful lot, it keeps everything organised nicely. For example, the CSS for my film list embeds looks like this:

a.film-list {
    display: grid;
    grid-template-areas: "header images" "description images" "meta images";
    grid-template-columns: 1fr auto;
    grid-template-rows: auto 1fr auto;
    row-gap: var(--small-space);

    @media (width <= 800px) {
        grid-template-areas: "header" "description" "images" "meta";
        grid-template-columns: 1fr;
        grid-template-rows: auto auto auto auto;
    }

    & + & {
        margin-top: var(--medium-space);
    }

    h3 {
        font-size: var(--font-size-xxlarge);
    }

    .description {
        /* ... */
    }
}

Everything is wrapped up in a single bundle, including the @media rules for changing the layout on smaller screens, the lovely little & + & rule that adds some extra margin if there are two lists in a row, etc. The & syntax refers to the parent selector, so & + & in this case is the same as a.film-list + a.film-list: it’s very handy! The best part about this is that it’s the exact same syntax as SCSS, so converting is easy². The styled element looks like this:

Watched films ranked

Every film I’ve watched since I started logging, ranked.

Obviously super subjective, and subject to change often and arbitrarily.

264 films

Media range syntax

Once again, you might have spotted this in the previous snippet. I’m not deliberately teasing things, I promise! Back in the day, you did media queries like so:

@media (min-width: 1000px) and (max-width: 2000px) {
    /* some rules that work for screens at least 1000px wide and at most 2000px wide */
}

I always hated this syntax. I always got muddled up as to whether I wanted “min” or “max”, and whether they were inclusive or not. It’s easy to reason through, but it never came naturally. Fortunately you can now just use ranges:

@media (1000px <= width <= 2000px) {
    /* some rules that work for screens at least 1000px wide and at most 2000px wide */
}

I find this style so much easier to write and understand.

Anchor positioning

Trying to dynamically position one element next to another used to exclusively fall within the purview of JavaScript. Fortunately anchor positioning fixes all this. I use this in the film search field I showed above:

.film-search {
    input {
        anchor-name: --film-search-box;
    }
    .results {
        position: absolute;
        position-anchor: --film-search-box;
        position-area: bottom center;
        position-visibility: always;
        width: anchor-size();
    }
}

This does lots of fun things. The .results element is anchored to the input field (via the --film-search-box name), and it’s positioned on the bottom, directly under the anchor. The position-area rule describes a 3x3 grid, with the anchor at the center, so top left would put it diagonally adjacent to the anchor. Next, position-visibility keeps the .results element visible when the anchor isn’t; otherwise when you scroll the anchor off the screen the results would immediately vanish. Finally, the special anchor-size() function makes the .results element take up the same exact width as the anchor.

All-in-all, this puts the results exactly where I want them, without having to deal with any JavaScript at all. I can see how it’d also be amazingly useful trying to do tooltips or other forms of ‘floating’ content too. You can even leave the positioning up to the browser, giving it hints about which order to try, or what property to optimise for (e.g. you can say “anchor to the left or right, whichever has more horizontal space”).

attr() function

This one blew my mind a little. In some of the elements on the site, I’ve added a little label to the top. It looks something like this:

It’s meant to just be a visual flourish, not a semantic title or anything, so I initially just added a ::before selector to each element, customising the content to have the right value. I didn’t like the duplication, though. Now, instead, I do this:

&::before {
    content: attr(data-title);
}

Each component defines its title in a data attribute: <div class="raised-box" data-title="an example">, and the attr function plucks it out and puts it in the content rule. It’s worth noting that this is only widely supported for the content rule, you can’t yet use it for colours or dimensions or other things. It still feels a bit magical, though. Like you’re making a reusable, customisable component with just HTML and CSS.

layers

I’d come across layers a few times, but I never found a need for them. It seemed like something you’d only really need with complicated design systems, or something. Then I had a problem and layers were the perfect solution!

The headings on this site have a whole bunch of CSS attached to them. Currently they look a bit like blue painter’s tape with handwriting on them. This style is applied to all headers, and then the various places that don’t want it had to manually reset everything. I got fed up with that, so decided to add a plain-header class which would “disable” the extra styling:

h2,
h3,
h4,
h5,
h6 {
    /* common styles for all headers, regardless */
    font-family: "Chris Hand", sans-serif;
    font-size: var(--font-size-xxlarge);
    color: var(--text-highlight-colour);
    margin: var(--medium-space) 0;
    line-height: 1;

    &:not(.plain-header) {
        /* do fancy stuff if it _doesn't_ have the .plain-header class */
        transform: rotate(-0.15deg);
        padding: var(--smedium-space);
        font-weight: 800;
        filter: drop-shadow(3px 3px 5px rgb(0, 0, 0));

        a {
            background: none;
            text-decoration-skip-ink: auto;
        }
    }
}

This might seem a bit backwards but I want the default to be styled, as those are far more common. I added this change, sprinkled around some “plain-header” classes, tidied up a lot of duplicate CSS, and things mostly worked. Mostly. Some things stopped working. In a few places the headers had slight tweaks, and they stopped working entirely.

It turns out in moving the rules from a plain h2 selector to a h2:not(.plain-header), I’d made them more specific. Previously a selector like h2.special would have been more specific, so its properties would override those from the less specific h2 selector. My first reaction was to try and hack around it. Changing all the overrides to body h2.special would make them more specific again, but I didn’t want to have to remember to do that forever more.

Instead, I defined some custom layers, and put the header definitions in one:

@layer reset, links, headings

@layer headings {
    h2,
    h3 {
        /* etc */
    }
}

The first @layer rule defines some layers that will be handled in a specific order: first the “reset” layer, then the “links” layer, then the “headings” layer, and then anything not in a layer after that. Rules in one layer don’t have to worry about beating the specificity of rules in another layer, because they’re handled separately.

Note that I couldn’t just put the headings in a layer and call it a day: their rules have to come after the CSS reset, and after the normal link styles, as headers have a bit of extra styling for nested links. If the CSS reset weren’t in a layer, then the * { margin: 0; padding: 0; } type reset would apply over the rules from the headings layer.

Using layers is definitely a bit fiddly, and is not necessary for a lot of sites, but it’s a much cleaner alternative to ugly specificity hacking.

Things I’m looking forward to

There are a few things that aren’t (widely) available yet, that particularly interest me:

sibling-index() and sibling-count()

These new functions are available in WebKit and Blink based browsers, but not Firefox. They give you the index of the element within its siblings, or the count of siblings. For the film list component above, I currently have this abomination for the overlapping posters:

&:nth-child(1) {
    z-index: 5;
    left: 0;
}
&:nth-child(2) {
    z-index: 4;
    left: calc(133px * var(--overlap) * 1);
}
&:nth-child(3) {
    z-index: 3;
    left: calc(133px * var(--overlap) * 2);
}
&:nth-child(4) {
    z-index: 2;
    left: calc(133px * var(--overlap) * 3);
}
&:nth-child(5) {
    z-index: 1;
    left: calc(133px * var(--overlap) * 4);
}

These could be replaced with something like:

z-index: calc(1 + sibling-count() - sibling-index());
left: calc(133px * var(--overlap) * (sibling-index() - 1));

As an added bonus, it would scale to any number of posters. index being 1-based not 0-based is a bit unfortunate as it makes using it in calculations awkward (see 1 offset in both of those rules!), but it’s leagues better than writing 5 separate rules.

random()

Currently only available in Safari. There are a few places where I’d like to have slight random variations of the style. Things like elements that are rotated slightly for aesthetics; they look a bit silly if they’re all identically positioned. I also randomise the icons and positions of my rating stars to break up the visual monotony. Here are a few examples:

Currently I do the stars by hardcoding a bunch of classes and having the backend randomly apply one when it generates the markup for stars. Being able to do it in CSS would be great, though.

Mixins

This one’s so far off it’s not even listed on caniuse.com yet. Mixins are another handy feature of SCSS, that allow you to define reusable blocks of rules, then import them when needed:

@mixin fancy-background {
    background: /*...*/;
}

.some-element {
    @include fancy-background;
}

#other-element {
    @include fancy-background;
}

This would be particularly useful if you can’t easily control the markup to add classes to everything. For example, my footnotes are rendered by a markdown plugin, and don’t easily have a way to add extra classes to them. To style it the same as another element, I currently duplicate a bunch of rules between them both. Mixins would allow me to define those rules once, and then import them in both places.

Aside from JavaScript, which seems to just endlessly reinvent new frameworks and ways to make the most sprawling dependency tree possible. ↩︎
It also means that if your website’s syntax highlighting library doesn’t seem to understand nested rules, you can just pretend your perfectly valid CSS is actually SCSS and it’ll magically work. Grumble, grumble. ↩︎

An interesting Tailscale + Docker gotcha

2026-01-29T00:00:00Z

As I’ve written about before, I use Tailscale for a lot of things. I thought I had it set up in a reasonably secure manner, but I recently noticed a problem.

I use Tailscale’s ACLs to limit what each node can access, based on the tags I apply to it. So an app node can’t access anything via Tailscale, while an integration or server node can access things tagged with either app or integration. This is expressed pretty simply in the Tailscale ACL JSON:

{
	"tagOwners": {
		// Servers that can be SSH'd into
		"tag:server": [],
		// Applications that are exposed on tailscale but never connect out
		"tag:app": [],
		// Things which talk to other services over tailscale (connecting to apps etc)
		"tag:integration": [],
	},
	"grants": [
		{
			// Users can access everything
			"src": ["autogroup:member"],
			"dst": ["*"],
			"ip":  ["*"],
		},
		{
			// Servers and integrations can access integrations and apps
			"src": ["tag:server", "tag:integration"],
			"dst": ["tag:integration", "tag:app"],
			"ip":  ["*"],
		},
	],
}

Over the past week I’ve been setting up a private Forgejo instance behind Tailscale, complete with an actions runner that runs things using a docker-in-docker container. I didn’t want the runner knowing anything about Tailscale, so I had it configured to speak to Forgejo direct over HTTP (forgejo:3000) instead of using full Tailscale HTTPS URL that I use when accessing it (http://git.example-net.ts.net/)¹.

Everything was going fine, until I forgot to do that translation… and it worked. My Forgejo action runners could access anything on my tailnet. I run several things on Tailscale that just have authentication turned off, on the basis that only authorised devices can access them. Things like the admin interface for this website. I definitely didn’t intend for any workflow I run on my git server to have access to edit my website!

This wasn’t just limited to Forgejo, either. Any docker container I was running could access the tailnet. In hindsight it’s fairly obvious why: the host is running Tailscale, connected as a node tagged with my server tag. That creates a tailscale0 interface, and automagically sets up iptables rules to route Tailscale traffic over the interface. Docker also automagically sets up iptables rules to bridge traffic, and apparently these two sets of rules interact in such a way that traffic from Docker containers is allowed to route via the tailscale0 interface.

I say it’s fairly obvious in hindsight — there’s no reason why Docker would special case any particular host interface after all — but it still feels pretty surprising. Because both bits of software inject their own iptables rules, I never really had a good mental model for how they interact. The host Tailscale node was a completely separate building block to Docker. It would be a pain to use either of them if they didn’t do these rules, but it’s also one of the reasons I don’t really like “magical” things².

There are lots of ways to fix this, but none of them feel particularly great. You can configure both Tailscale and Docker to not automatically fiddle with iptables and handle the rules yourself, but I really hate dealing with iptables³. As a stopgap I did hold my nose and add some iptables rules to drop traffic to the tailscale0 interface if it originated from the IP ranges that Docker was configured to use:

iptables -I DOCKER-USER -s 192.168.0.0/16 -o tailscale0 -j DROP
iptables -I DOCKER-USER -s 172.17.0.0/12 -o tailscale0 -j DROP

The DOCKER-USER chain is a nice little escape hatch; it comes before the main auto-generated DOCKER chain, and Docker leaves the rules in it alone.

So I added these rules, and felt pretty good about myself, and then… everything started breaking in weird ways. After some debugging I realised the problem was DNS⁴. The server’s DNS resolver is 100.100.100.100, a special Tailscale address. This is so that it can resolve tailnet hostnames via MagicDNS (and so I don’t have to configure my custom DNS servers manually on each device; Tailscale does it for me). My new iptables rules inadvertently dropped all the DNS packets coming from docker containers. D’oh.

Obviously the solution here is to double down and add MORE iptables rules:

iptables -I DOCKER-USER -s 192.168.0.0/16 -d 100.100.100.100 -o tailscale0 -j ACCEPT
iptables -I DOCKER-USER -s 172.17.0.0/12 -d 100.100.100.100 -o tailscale0 -j ACCEPT

This got DNS working again, but it all feels a bit gross. Not least because to actually make these persist you need to use iptables-save, and then you also get all the rules that both Docker and Tailscale have inserted. I came across a script to filter out the Docker ones, but… yuck⁵.

I realised a cleaner idea might just be to lock down what server tagged nodes could access within Tailscale itself. That way I can avoid touching iptables at all. It’s handy to be able to curl services from the host when debugging, but it’s not really necessary. So I removed that access, and… stuff broke again. I’m using my Forgejo instance as a registry for some of the docker images I run, so the docker daemon needs to be able to reach it. I ended up making a new tag for infrastructure, which can be accessed from server devices. This does still allow all the docker containers to reach Forgejo, but I already have it set up with appropriate access controls and public/private repository splits. Forgejo is a service designed to run publicly, so this seems a reasonable trade-off for convenience. I used the tests feature of Tailscale’s ACL config to make sure I’d got the rules right:

{
	"tests": [
		{
			// Servers can only access infrastructure
			"src":   "tag:server",
			"proto": "tcp",
			"allow": [
				"tag:infrastructure:8080",
			],
			"deny": [
				"100.84.16.43:8080",
				"me@example.com:8080",
				"tag:server:8080",
				"tag:app:8080",
				"tag:integration:8080",
			],
		},
	],
}

The whole situation still feels a bit messy. If I ever get around to switching to nftables I might loop back and manually craft some rules for routing traffic, instead of leaving Tailscale and Docker to do their own thing.

I discovered later on that logging into the container registry at forgejo:3000 actually issued a redirect to https://git.example-net.ts.net/ so this was all basically for naught… ↩︎
I didn’t use Tailscale’s MagicDNS for a long time just because the word “magic” put me off. Only when I eventually got around to learning how it worked, and seeing that it wasn’t really that magical under the hood, did I change my mind. ↩︎
nftables seems far better in lots of ways, but I can’t really be bothered migrating. Maybe next time I reimage the server for whatever reason… ↩︎
It’s always DNS… ↩︎
Again, nftables would almost certainly help here. It actually has (gasp) configuration files. But again, I really didn’t want to spend the time migrating. ↩︎

If all you have is a hammer…

2025-06-18T00:00:00Z

This, dear reader, is a hammer. It is almost entirely irrelevant to the article. Enjoy.

I presume everyone is familiar with the idiom “if all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail”. If not, well, there it is. It’s generally used pejoratively about being single-minded, but I think it also gives a glimpse into something more interesting: mental and perceptual sets.

Before I explain, let me tell you a story about a person who bought a 3D printer¹. When they were first thinking about getting one, they weren’t sure if it was worth it. They could print a few board game accessories, but then what? After they got it, though, a whole new world opened up: everywhere they looked there were opportunities to improve things by adding 3D printed plastic. Broken appliances were repaired with 3D printed parts, all sorts of shelves, organisers, hooks and other things were made. But when they talked about this to other people, most often the response was “That’s nice, but I don’t think I’d use one”. How could they not see the truth in all its glorious layer lines?!

The answer is in the concept of a ‘set’², and instead of trying to explain it, I’m just going to quote Wikipedia:

In psychology, a set is a group of expectations that shape experience by making people especially sensitive to specific kinds of information. A perceptual set, also called perceptual expectancy, is a predisposition to perceive things in a certain way. […] A mental set is a framework for thinking about a problem. It can be shaped by habit or by desire. Mental sets can make it easy to solve a class of problem, but attachment to the wrong mental set can inhibit problem-solving and creativity.

This perfectly captures what happened. They’d developed a ‘3D printing mental set’: a predisposition to see problems that can be solved with their ~~hammer~~ 3D printer. Once I started noticing this pattern, I started seeing it all over the place.

Sets at work

Aside from the “could this be improved with some 3D printed plastic” perceptual set, I’ve noticed a couple of other sets: DIY, and writing puzzles.

DIY is probably the most obvious one. Once you become a little familiar with the basics of what you can fix and how, it seems like you start noticing the opportunities more. Before, you might have ignored that loose door handle, but now you notice it and realise with a screwdriver and a sex bolt³ you can fix it and stop it coming loose again anytime soon.

As you do more things, you build up your set of mental sets as well. You learn how to attach things to different types of walls, how to safely work with electricity, and so on, and suddenly installing a new outside light goes from a seemingly complex job to just exercising some of those concepts you’re already familiar with.

This works across ‘disciplines’ as well: I wanted to automatically cool a room down, using a fan in the window to blow in cool air. The 3D printing mental set gave me a way to make it physically go where I wanted it to, the home automation set gave me a plan for how to automate it, and the electricity set helped me figure out how to wire in the relay. It sounds a bit stilted when I spell it out like that, but the catch is I didn’t have to sit down and work any of this out. I was already primed to think in a certain way. I had a whole selection of hammers, and could pick the right combination of them to beat this particular nail⁴.

Puzzles are a bit different. I enjoy taking part in puzzle hunts⁵, and at first I was bewildered at how the authors came up with all the puzzles. After I started thinking about writing some myself, though, I began to notice all kinds of things that could maybe be turned into a puzzle: a specialised database, or a song with repetitive lyrics, or set of things with unique ID numbers. Writing the actual puzzles is still tricky, but once you’ve equipped the “look out for puzzle material” perceptual set it’s much easier to gather a range of ideas.

For example, one puzzle I wrote came about because I stumbled upon Sir Patrick Stewart’s Cowboy Classic Sampler⁶. I think everyone will agree that it’s a fairly unique collection. I tied some samples of the songs together with some screen captures of Sir Patrick as Picard in Star Trek: The Next Generation, and puzzlers had to find the season and episode numbers of the pictures, then use those numbers to select a track and a word from that track in the audio mix. Those words spell out a question, and the answer to that question is the answer to the puzzle.

There were other hints mixed in to point you in the right direction, it wasn’t quite as opaque as it might sound! But the point is without being in that “puzzle finding” mindset when I came across the album, there’s no way I could have come up with that puzzle. Like with the fan, I was primed to think a certain way, and managed to create something I otherwise would have struggled with.

The curse of noticing things

Figuring out how to make stuff isn’t the only place sets appear, though. Perceptual sets are about how we perceive things. When you read something with lots of bullet points, em-dashes, and the word “delve” do you automatically think it’s LLM generated?⁷ Then you have an LLM text perceptual set! It’s kind of annoying, as it’s difficult to “turn off” and stop noticing these things once you’ve seen them. Similarly, I think I have a “bad grammar” set. I know it doesn’t bother a lot of people, but if I’m reading a book and there’s a rogue apostrophe it will throw me right out of the moment. It’s like tripping up when walking and being torn out of a daydream. There’s some use to these — being able to notice grammar errors easily helps with my writing — but for the most part they’re a negative input: they point out things are broken or bad.

The “edge case set” takes this to another level. After about 20 years of writing software⁸ I have a finely honed ability to spot problems. Give me something to implement and my brain will immediately rattle off all the different edge cases and under-specified parts. Then some other bit of my brain gets the job of deciding which we actually care about, which are worth raising, and so on. It’s definitely useful to spot them up-front, rather than when you’re deep in the weeds implementing something, and tends to make everything go a lot smoother if you can hammer the major ones out when planning work. It doesn’t turn off after work though; it comes up when reading board game rule books, or descriptions of the magic system in fantasy novels, or news reports, and so on. It’s a lot less useful then.

Speaking of news reports, here’s a fun one: Gell-Mann amnesia is a cognitive bias where even when you critically assess media reports about something you’re knowledgeable about (say, technology), you continue to trust similar reporting in other areas (say, medicine). But once you know about Gell-Mann amnesia, you might start to actively notice when it happens. You scoff at the article about how the Internet is a “series of tubes” and then start reading the next one about a cancer treatment, but — wait a minute — your Gell-Mann amnesia set kicks in. I’m not sure what you then do with this information. Dismiss basically all the media and news as useless? It’s honestly pretty annoying.

The meta set

I’ve had this blog post on my ideas list since I first noticed the “3D printing mindset”. I didn’t know sets were an actual thing, and I didn’t have most of the examples I do now. As time went on with this idea rattling around in the back of my head, I started noticing the patterns come up more and more. There’s lots of more examples I didn’t include because I didn’t want to just write a listicle of mental patterns. But the fact that I noticed them all seems to mean that I’ve developed a set set, or a meta-set, if you will. It’s fascinating to think about how all this happens inside our mushy bag of neurons, but also a bit terrifying. If thought processes are that malleable, what stops you accidentally breaking them? Actually, thinking about things like Q-Anon, flat earthers, and a lot of contemporary “politics”, maybe that’s quite easy to do?

Image credits

Photo	Creator	Licence	Source
Hammer	Ian Talmacs	Unsplash License	Unsplash

Surprise! I am that person. Bet you didn’t see that coming! ↩︎
I feel like they should have consulted the mathematicians and/or computer scientists before they picked a name. ↩︎
Yes, that’s a real thing. No, I won’t ever use any of the alternative names for it. ↩︎
OK, I’ve strained the metaphor enough. I’m sorry. I’ll stop. ↩︎
If you’re not familiar, a puzzle hunt is a competition where you try to solve puzzles faster than other teams. The sort of puzzles involved are perfectly described by this quote from Mike Develin: “Imagine a word search. Now imagine you aren’t told what words to look for. Now imagine you aren’t told it’s a word search. Now imagine it isn’t a word search.” ↩︎
Go and give it a listen. I’ll wait. ↩︎
I hereby certify all my em-dashes are hand-crafted. Relatedly, Claude Code keeps writing comments that use hyphens when they should actually be em-dashes. Maybe they’ve trained it to avoid them? ↩︎
I just made myself sad by working this out. I still feel young at heart! … Or maybe that’s cholesterol? ↩︎

The Curse of Knowledge and Blogging

2025-05-16T00:00:00Z

Finding a picture to go with a blog post about blog post ideas is hard, OK?

The single worst part about blogging for me is trying to come up with ideas for what to write about. Not because they’re hard to come up with, but because every idea seems too basic or not worth talking about. Seems.

It’s not just me, either. My friends will occasionally describe some interesting problem they’ve dealt with, and I’ll chime in with “you should blog about that”. Almost invariably the response is something like “it’s not that interesting”.

There’s a cognitive bias called the curse of knowledge¹. Basically, once you know something you can’t accurately reconstruct your previous state of mind from when you didn’t know it. You can struggle to do something for hours, piecing together scraps of information, using all kinds of specialist knowledge, and as soon as you’re finished it all seems so basic why would anyone want to read about that?

Other mental obstacles

Of course, nothing involving people is as simple as having one cause and an obvious solution. Even when I get over the “it’s too basic” road bump, there are other issues. Looking back over some of my posts, I get a horrible cringe-y feeling and the question of “why would anyone be interested in reading that?!” arrives unbidden. Even though I know that I’m interested in reading similar posts written by other people. I’m hesitant to attach labels to everything, but imposter syndrome says hi.

I think there’s also a cultural issue at play. British people tend to be somewhat reserved and downplay their accomplishments, especially when compared to people from the US². When I worked for a certain multinational ~~ad conglomerate~~ search engine company we actually had training on how to do performance reviews and speak about ourselves more like our US counterparts.

Put all these things into a cauldron, add a lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing, mix it all up, and you get a brain that despises the idea of blogging about anything. Great.

Dealing

So, now the problem is well-defined, what do we do about it? Clearly I am the best person to be offering this advice, given it’s been four months since my last blog post.

The best counter to the Curse of Knowledge that I’ve found is keeping notes, like a lab notebook. If you finish something and have dozens of links to different resources that you had to piece together, it’s probably something interesting and worth talking about even if it doesn’t seem like it any more. Or maybe you didn’t need a lot of references, but you had to write a lot down to make sense of something, or needed to draw diagrams to solve a problem. Again, probably interesting.

The other issues I’ve mentioned are not so easy to overcome. I’m also not going to try and perform therapy in the form of a blog post! What I personally do is keep a list of topics to write about (that have already passed the “probably interesting even if my brain doesn’t agree” check), and occasionally when the stars align I’ll feel like plucking one off the list and turning thoughts into words.

A call to action

If you’ve got a blog and haven’t written anything recently because you “don’t do anything interesting”, go write something! I promise that someone will be interested. Hell, feel free to send me a link and I’ll be interested for you.

If you don’t have a blog then why not start one? There are lots of great articles out there about why-you-should and how-you-can. And as a bonus, blog posts about how you set up your blog are super interesting. That’s one post sorted already!

As the open internet is slowly subsumed by massive corporate interests, and gummed up with spam and AI slop, the voice of real humans is becoming more and more important. Maybe we can — one blog at a time — get back to the ’90s internet that was full of individuality instead of today’s which is full of ads and spam?

Photo by Mika Baumeister on Unsplash

There’s also something called “Familiarity Blindness” that people like to talk about. It’s a much better name. The only problem is that I can’t find any actual published works that talk about it. No-one authoritative defines or mentions it. It just popped into existence a few years ago. Maybe it’s an LLM hallucination? ↩︎
My favourite commentary on this is Stephen Fry talking about American vs British comedy. ↩︎