Jeremy Keith

The Descent — What Happened to the Frontend While You Weren’t Watching

A history of front-end development that culminates here:

The frontier of 2026, the stuff the sharpest people are most excited about, is render the HTML on the server, ship almost no JavaScript, and use the web platform instead of fighting it.

Memories Can’t Wait—or, How I Learned to Keep Worrying About the Web - Jeffrey Zeldman Presents

Digital memory is fragile not because bits decay (though they do), but because someone else owns the shelf.

In preparation for my jaunt to a Greek island, I figured it would be good to have some Greek-adjacent reading material with me to peruse on the beach. So I scoured the shelves of my local library to find a modern retelling of a Greek myth that I hadn’t already read. That’s where I found Medea by Rosie Hewlett.

The book attempts to rehabilitate—or at least give context to—one of the women of Greek legends who has been cast as a villain. See also Clytemnestra, Elektra, and more.

On the face of it, the book succeeds. We get to see how Medea’s actions were driven by her circumstances. But while it’s entirely believable that that Medea was manipulated by a conniving Jason, this framing takes away her agency somewhat.

The writing is perfectly fine if a little bodice-rippy at times. It was a perfectly good beach read.

Abject Praise - Infrequently Noted

Alex takes issue with my post giving kudos to Apple for concentrating on bugfixes in the latest version of Safari, and he brings receipts. He makes a very compelling case, backed up with data.

But when it comes to Chrome’s shipping of the half-baked prompt API, I’m not sure he gets just how badly it has soured the developer community’s feelings towards Google. This isn’t something to be countered with data; it’s much more visceral than that. Alex says:

So if Jeremy has a problem with specific features, I hope he’ll come to us with a critique of their qualities, rather than their optics.

In this case though, the optics are really, really, really bad.

Exactly one year from now, UX London 2027 will be wrapping up.

Mark your calendar: July 6th, 7th, and 8th, 2027. If you really want to be ahead of the curve, you can grab a very limited super early-bird ticket now before the price goes up.

I’m about to start putting the 2027 line-up together. The real reason why I’m mentioning an event that’s still a year away is that I’d like you to consider speaking at it. Yes, you.

Here’s the form you can fill out with your proposal. It can be a 30 minute talk or a 2.5 hour workshop.

Remember that UX London is a three-day event with each day having a specific theme:

• Tuesday, July 6 is discovery day with an emphasis on research and related topics.
• Wednesday, July 7 is design day, all about the nitty gritty aspects of actually making something; interface design, information architecture, accessibility.
• Thursday, July 8 is delivery day focusing on continuous improvement, whether that’s through design systems, cross-team collaboration, or any other strategies.

So if you’ve got a topic that you think is particularly relevant to one of those days, be sure to mention that in your proposal.

It should go without saying that if your proposal is accepted, you will be paid to speak. Alas, I have to say it because there are some events out there that don’t even manage to reach that very low bar.

I’ll be honest and say I’m not that interested in hearing from people like me, a middle-aged white dude. We have more than enough opportunities to spout our opinions. I’d much rather hear from people from different backgrounds with different experiences.

Have a look at the most recent line-up to get an idea of the kind of folks you’re likely to see on the UX London roster. Feel free to contact any of the previous speakers to ask them how they found the experience. You can also peruse some pictures to get an idea of the vibe.

Oh, and if you want to give an entire talk about “AI”, there are plenty of other conferences for that. That doesn’t mean you can’t talk about large language models or other generative tools, just don’t make it the focus of the talk. UX London isn’t about specific tools. So you won’t see a talk about AI for the same reason you won’t see a talk about Figma. It’s what you accomplish with the tools that counts. Make that the focus of your proposal.

I’d love to hear from you so please, submit your proposal. Submissions close in December, but the sooner you submit your proposal, the better.

Talk: Let’s fix the web’s text size - Josh Tumath

I saw Josh give this talk at CSS Day. It’s a very useful explanation of the forthcoming text-scale addition to the meta element, and what you can do to prepare your site now.

“Radharc álainn” I said. Beautiful view.

“Nach ea!” he replied. Isn’t it?

He sounded surprised to be addressed in Irish. We were, after all, very far from Erin’s shores. The beautiful view in question was of the bay of Loggos on the Greek island of Paxos. But I knew that this person was a fluent Irish speaker. That’s why I figured he wouldn’t mind a chat as Gaeilge while we were both strolling along.

I was talking with Liam Ó Maonlaí. We were both on Paxos for the same reason; the annual Irish Wings festival, a small gathering of Irish and Greek musicians. Liam was there to play. Myself and Jessica were there to listen.

Of course we were also there to soak up the sun, swim in the crystal clear water, eat Greek food, and savour the very relaxed pace of life.

We had a lovely chat with Liam and his partner Marion. I didn’t tell him that I went to see Hothouse Flowers on multiple occasions in Cork city in the 1980s. I’m sure he gets plenty of that. But I probably should’ve mentioned how much I really enjoy his programme Cuan an Cheoil. There’s nothing I like better on a Sunday afternoon than to relax with one of the black and white videos on YouTube, listening to music and conversation in Irish.

The island of Paxos is small and the village of Loggos is really small, so it wasn’t all that surprising that we’d bump into the Irish musicians there for the festival. We met Muireann Nic Amhlaoibh on the beach and again, she seemed really pleased that we spoke Irish with her. And it was also lovely to see our friend Dónal O’Connor who we’ll be seeing again very soon at his excellent Belfast Tradfest.

It was really nice to have the opportunity to speak Irish with three excellent musicians, all from different Irish-speaking regions; Liam from Dublin, Muireann from the Aran Islands and West Kerry, and Donal from the Oriel region of county Louth.

We also saw Neil Finn. I didn’t say anything to him. I don’t know if he speaks any Irish.

The AI Resist List

Nothing about the current trajectory of AI development is inevitable. It was shaped by the thousands of subjective decisions of a tiny elite, and continues its march based on the active participation and tacit consent of people globally.

The Vaster Wilds is a remarkable book. It somehow manages to be both harrowing and uplifting at the same time.

I had read one of Lauren Groff’s previous books, Matrix, and liked it well enough. But The Vaster Wilds is in a different league. It starts with urgency, suffering, and wonder, and that combination never lets up for the whole book.

The plot is decepetively simple. A servant girl escapes a starving colony in 17th century America—probably Jamestown—and runs through the woods in wintertime, desperate to survive. That’s pretty much it. But in that journey is all of life; nature red in tooth and claw, humanity even redder, and the transcendental power of the living landscape.

The descriptions of the protagonist’s inner world are just as vivid as the details of the forests, rivers, and mountains. The prose fairly sings with joy at a minor pleasure and then wails in woe at a horrifying brutality, often in the same paragraph.

It isn’t always an easy read. But it is always completely true to itself.

Show your hands honor for the strange power they bring you – Aresluna

Put the kettle on. Marcin has another magnum opus on interaction design for you to read …and interact with.

It started in Dublin. Myself and Jessica got there in the afternoon and I went straight to The Cobblestone in Smithfield for some tunes.

Then I went up the street to the headquarters of Na Píobairí Uilleann, a beautiful Georgian building on Henrietta Street.

I was there to deliver my talk on the making of The Session. There weren’t that many people there in person but quite a few people watched it live online. You can watch the video of the talk if you want. I’m pretty pleased with it. The few times I played some tunes on my mandolin, the acoustics were lovely!

The next day we took the train down to Cork and onwards to my home town of Cobh. The town was looking its best. The weather was nice and the Queen Anne was docked at the deep water quay.

We spent a lovely weekend hanging out with my mother, including a trip to Cork to see Michael Keegan Dolan’s latest dance piece, Naoi Déag Seachtó Cúig. It was joyous! Normally I’d get irrated by someone in the seat behind me tapping their foot, but everyone was tapping along to the classic first album by The Bothy Band.

On Monday morning Jessica flew back to Brighton, leaving me to spend the week at the inaugural Irish Mandolin Gathering.

When I saw that this event was going to be happening, I thought “I’m going! Wherever it’s going to be, I’ll make my way there.” Then I saw it was happening in Little Island and I couldn’t believe my luck! Little Island is halfway between Cobh and Cork, easily reachable on the local trainline.

So I spent the week having a very pleasant commute. This was when the temperatures were getting dangerously high in England, but remained within reason in Ireland. Whenever anyone at the Mandolin gathering complained about the heat, I couldn’t help pointing out that we were actually in the coolest place in Europe for that week.

The mandolin nerdery was excellent. Lots of deep dives into technique, lots of trying out other people’s instruments, and of course, lots of playing tunes. Seán, Macdara, and Marla did a fantastic job, especially considering that this was the very first one!

The inaugural Irish Mandolin Gathering culminated with a concert at The White Horse in Ballincollig, which was excellent but every time it was mentioned, I had that John Spillane song in my head.

Now I’m back home and feeling recharged from a thoroughly enjoyable week in Ireland. Next time I’ll be there will be for a week of learning Irish at Oideas Gael in Donegal—táim ar bís!