I sit here, looking at a workstation that has more computing power than the entire European continent possessed in 1990. I have 64 gigabytes of RAM. I have an NVMe drive that moves data at speeds that should feel like telepathy. And yet, I am waiting.
I am waiting for a simple web-based chat application to "initialize." I am watching a "sleek" loading spinner - undoubtedly a high-res SVG animated by a heavy JavaScript library - while the app struggles to figure out how to display three lines of text.
As an engineer who started when we measured memory in kilobytes and "optimization" wasn't a dirty word, this makes my blood boil. We have traded craftsmanship for TTM, and the result is a digital landscape filled with bloated, wheezing monsters that perform worse than the text-only BBS boards I accessed via a screeching 56kb modem thirty years ago.
I understand the business side. I am not a hermit in a cave. I know that Time to Market is the only metric the suit-and-tie people care about. "Move fast and break things," they say. Well, congratulations, you have moved so fast that you’ve broken the very concept of efficiency.
Because we want to ship features yesterday, we don't write code anymore. We assemble it. We stack layers of abstraction like a game of drunken Jenga. You want a button? Pull in a 2MB UI framework. You want a flicker effect? Import a heavy JS animation engine. The modern developer thinks that hardware is cheap, so why should they spend an hour optimizing a loop?
The result is "Software Obesity." My computer is a Ferrari, but the road is covered in three feet of wet mud.
The irony is that we have the tools to make things lightning-fast, but we choose not to use them. Modern browsers are incredibly capable, yet developers insist on doing everything in the most expensive way possible.
Take, for example, a text animations. A junior dev today would probably reach for a massive library to calculate light physics or use a dozen transparent PNGs. But if you actually use your brain - if you remember what it was like to code for a machine with no GPU - you realize you can do this with almost nothing.
The "flicker" isn't a complex JavaScript calculation checking the system clock. It’s a simple CSS keyframe changing the opacity. It’s handled by the browser’s internal rendering engine, not the main thread. It costs the CPU effectively zero. It’s "cheap" magic.
But no. Instead of using these inventions—the very tools built into the browser to make things fast—we ignore them. We ignore the shadow effect, the native transitions, and the hardware-accelerated transforms.
This is what kills me: I see more innovation in "loading screen design" than in "loading speed optimization."
Developers are spending weeks perfecting the way a progress bar pulses or how a skeleton screen shimmers. They are literally inventing new ways to hide the fact that their app is a bloated mess. It’s like putting a very expensive, slow-moving curtain in front of a stage where the actors are still trying to find their pants.
If you spent half the time you spent on that "innovative" loading animation on actually profiling your dependencies and utilizing native CSS effects, I wouldn't have to see the loading screen at all.
We grew up making things work with what we had. If the tractor broke, you fixed it with a wrench and a piece of wire. You didn't order a whole new engine from the factory.
We need to bring that spirit back to software. Stop treating the user’s RAM like an infinite buffet. Stop pretending that a 50MB initial payload for a "To-Do" list is acceptable just because "the internet is fast now."
We have the most powerful tools in human history. It is time we start acting like engineers again and stop acting like children playing with Lego blocks they don't understand. Optimize your code. Use the CSS. Kill the JS bloat. My 56kb modem self would be ashamed of what we’ve become.