I Fix the Tabs
On care, invisibility, and doing work that doesn’t scale.
I’ve spent part of today going through my own websites, page by page, fixing indentation and quotes in the source code.
Not refactoring.
Not optimizing.
Not chasing performance or revenue.
Just adjusting tabs. Adding line breaks.
Making sure that if someone views the source, it looks like a place someone meant to be.
This work doesn’t matter in any measurable way.
The browser doesn’t care.
Search engines don’t care.
Most people will never see it.
And yet, I care a lot.
There’s a kind of work that only exists for the person doing it.
It doesn’t ship features.
It doesn’t increase reach.
It doesn’t justify itself in dashboards or metrics.
But it changes how the work feels to maintain.
Clean indentation is not about correctness. It’s about hospitality — even if the guest never arrives.
I've never believed that the invisible things were wasted effort. Just because it isn't easily seen, counted, or praised, does not exclude it from “serious” work.
That belief makes everything brittle.
Some people optimize for output, not longevity.
For speed, not comfort.
For impressing others, not living with the result.
Fixing tabs is the opposite of that instinct.
This kind of care creates a different relationship with the work.
When the inside is orderly, returning doesn’t feel like a chore.
When the structure is calm, change doesn’t feel like damage.
When the work respects itself, it stops demanding applause.
That’s not efficiency. That’s sustainability.
Gainful unemployment isn’t about escaping work.
It’s about choosing which kinds of work deserve your attention.
Some work earns money.
Some work earns peace.
Some work earns the right to keep going tomorrow.
Fixing tabs earns that last one.
† Footnote (added later, probably while fixing something else):
It’s possible this is just a comforting story I tell myself.
People who care about the invisible also like believing their care is the reason things last.
Sometimes it’s just slower.
Sometimes it’s just fussier.
Sometimes it’s not wisdom at all — just habit with a good publicist.
That doesn’t make it wrong.
There is also a chance I just like messing with tabs.
This should not be ruled out.