Welcome back to the deep dive So today we're
focusing on a specific little rectangle on your
screen a button. I think Pretty much every single
person listening has clicked a thousand times
Maybe more it is almost muscle memory at this
point. Isn't it? It really is It's that button
that says download and usually right next to
it. There's that magic word Free we love that
word. We do we see a tool we need maybe a text
editor of a video player something we see free
and we click, it feels like a victory. Like you
beat the system, you got something for nothing.
It is the ultimate consumer win, or at least
that's how it feels in the moment, that little
dopamine hit of getting a tool without opening
your wallet. Right, but that is exactly what
we need to pause today. Because I want to start
with a question that might ruin that feeling
of victory just a little bit. When we download
that free software, are we actually just saving
20 bucks? Or are we stepping into a much more
complex web of philosophy, law, and digital ownership?
It is definitely the latter. And I think most
people don't realize that when they click that
button, they aren't just receiving a product.
They are, I mean, they're entering into a legal
agreement. An agreement that, let's be honest,
nobody reads. Do you read them? I do, but only
because it's my job. I mean, normal, healthy
people do not read the Terms of Service. They
just scroll to the bottom and hit Accept. Well,
today we are reading the fine print so you don't
have to. We are diving into a breakdown of open
source licenses from a brand new article by Gary
Ackerman over at hackscience .education. And
this just dropped yesterday, January 24, 2026.
So it's super fresh. It is. And Ackerman does
a fantastic job of taking what is usually incredibly
dry, dense legal jargon and stripping it back
to the actual human philosophy underneath. He
really does. So here's our mission. We aren't
just going to list acronyms. We want to understand
the invisible rules that run our world. We want
to figure out who actually owns the code on your
computer, how it gets shared, and what freedom
really means in a digital sense. Because, as
the article points out, free is a remarkably
complicated word. If you're listening and wondering
why this matters if you aren't a programmer,
here's the headline. There is a massive fundamental
difference between software that is free to use
and software that is free to change. And the
specific license attached to that code determines
the future of that software, whether it stays
open for everyone or whether it gets locked up
behind a paywall five years from now. That is
a distinction I don't think I've ever really
considered. I just look at the price tag. If
it is zero, it is free. Right. But Ackerman argues
there are actually two totally different types
of free operating here. He breaks it down into
cost versus code. Or freeze as in beer versus
free as in speech. I've heard that one. That's
the classic saying. So let's start with the beer.
The cost. Because that is the one we all know.
This is the surface level. Free as in zero dollars.
You download the software, you don't pay a subscription
fee. And Ackerman notes something interesting
here. He points out that with true open source
software, this transaction is often completely
frictionless. Frictionless how? You often don't
even have to enter your email or create an account.
Which is actually rare these days. I feel like
most free tools online are just traps to get
my data. Yeah. I have to give them my email,
my phone number. Exactly. That is free as a marketing
tactic. You're paying with your data. But in
the open source world, the free cost is often
just a byproduct of the philosophy. It is free
because there is no gatekeepers. OK. So that
is the money side. But then we get to the second
definition, which the source argues is the more
important one. Free as in freedom. Yes. This
is the core of the open source concept. It means
the user is free to open up the hood and look
at the engine. You have access to the source
code. I want to make sure we nail this concept
of source code for the non -coders listening.
Ackerman calls it the DNA of the program. That
is the perfect analogy. It's the set of raw instructions
written by humans that tells the computer what
to do. When you use a normal app, you aren't
seeing the code. You are seeing the shiny exterior.
The buttons, the interface. Right. The source
code is compiled, hidden away. You can't see
it, and you certainly can't touch it. So if I
buy a standard piece of software, I'm basically
buying a car with the hood welded shut. Precisely.
You can drive it, but you can't fix it. You can't
see how it works. With open source, they hand
you the keys, the blueprints, the materials,
and the right to change them. OK, here's where
I get a little stuck, though. I can download
a piece of proprietary software, let's say a
fancy photo editor, and I can customize it. I
can change the interface, set up hotkeys. Isn't
that freedom? How is that different? That is
a really crucial distinction, and Ackerman spends
some time on this. When you customize that photo
editor, you are effectively just rearranging
the furniture in a house someone else built.
Okay. You can paint the walls, you can move the
sofa, but you cannot move the doors, you cannot
take down a wall, you certainly can't check the
foundation to see if it is cracked. Because I
am just the tenant. You are the tenant. You are
living there subject to the landlord's rules.
With open source, because you have the DNA, you're
the architect. If you don't like the way the
house is built, you can knock it down and rebuild
it. But play devil's advocate with me here. I
am not an architect. I don't know how to code.
So why does that freedom matter to me? Because
even if you aren't the architect, someone else
is. If that proprietary software has a bug that
deletes your files, you have to wait for the
company to fix it. And hope they do. Right. In
an open source world, anyone in the community
can find that bug, fix it, and share the fix
with everyone, including you. You benefit from
the freedom of others. That makes sense. It's
a community safety net. But this brings up a
massive question about ownership. If I can take
this code and rewrite it, Does that mean nobody
owns it? Is open source just code that was abandoned
in the woods? That is probably the number one
misconception about this whole topic. This idea
that open source means public domain or no rules.
Ackerman is very clear. Open source titles do
have copyrights. So someone still owns it? Absolutely.
The creators, whether that's an individual or
a huge foundation, still hold the copyright.
But here's the twist. In the traditional world,
Copyright is used to say, stop, you cannot touch
this. Right. In the open source world, they use
the copyright license to say, please come in,
but here are the rules for how you behave while
you are here. So they aren't waiving ownership.
They're using their ownership to grant permission.
Precisely. It is not a free for all. It is a
free for some things, provided you follow the
rules. And I guess that leads us to the meat
of this deep dive. Because if there are rules,
we need to know what they are. And it turns out,
not all rules are created equal. No, they're
not. Ackerman categorizes the licenses into two
main families, and these families have very different
philosophies. It is almost like a political divide
in the coding world. The Hatfields and the McCoys
of software? In a way, yes. Or maybe the idealists
versus the pragmatists. On one side, you have
the copy left licenses. Yeah, on the other. You
have the permissive licenses. Copy left. I assume
that is a pun. It is a play on copyright, yes,
but it's a pun with a very serious legal weight
behind it. Think about it this way. Copyright
restricts the right to copy. CopyLeft uses the
law to guarantee the right to copy. That is clever.
So what is the catch? The catch is that it is
viral. That word usually isn't good when we're
talking about computers. Right, but in this context
it just means infectious freedom. The core rule
of CopyLeft is that the software must remain
free. If you take a piece of copyleft code and
you modify it to build something new, what the
lawyers call a derived work, that new thing must
also be open source. So I can't take your free
code, improve it, polish it up, and then sell
the improved version as my own secret product?
No. You cannot close the door behind you. If
you build on a copy left foundation, your house
must also have its doors open to the public.
You are forced to share your improvements back
to the community under the same terms. It forces
generosity. It says, I gave this to you for free,
so you have to give your version to the next
person for free. Exactly. It ensures the ecosystem
stays open forever. It creates a protected commons.
Now, contrast that with the second family, the
permissive licenses. I'm guessing these are the
cool parents of the software world. Very chill.
Permissive licenses allow the original software
to be included in works that eventually become
proprietary. Wait, so I can take that code and
close the door? With the permissive license,
yes. You can take open code, modify it, wrap
it up in a new package, and sell it as a closed
source product. The original code stays free,
but your new version doesn't have to be. That
feels like a massive philosophical difference.
One forces you to share. And the other gives
you the choice to be selfish. Or, to look at
it more charitably, one protects the community
and the other enables business. It reduces friction
for companies who want to use the code without
revealing their trade secrets. That is a good
way to put it. Let's dig into the specific examples
Ackerman gives. Let's start with the strict ones,
the copy left crew. First on the list is the
GPL. The GNU general public license. This is
the heavyweight champion of copyleft. If you
know one license, it's probably this one. And
this is the one that is strictly viral. Strict.
The rule here is absolute. Any modified version
of the software must be open source and distributed
under the same license. It ensures the lineage
of the software stays free forever. You cannot
break the chain. Ackerman mentions a fun fact
about the acronym GNU itself. Stands for GNU
is not Unix. Yes, a classic recursive acronym
from 1983. Computer scientists love their inside
jokes. It is a bit of a tongue twister. It is,
but it was actually a protest statement. In the
80s, Unix was the big, expensive proprietary
operating system. This project was created specifically
to be the open alternative. So the name literally
defines itself by what it is not. We are not
the closed system. Exactly. And the GPL license
is the shield that guarantees they never become.
So the GPL is the strict parent. If you live
under this roof, you follow these rules. Yay!
But Ackerman lists another one in the copyleft
category that seems a little softer. The MPL.
The Mozilla Public License. Yeah, this one's
interesting. Ackerman still categorizes it as
copyleft, but it is often described as a middle
ground. How does that work? Is it semi -viral?
Sort of. The GPL is very infectious. If you touch
it, the whole program becomes open. The MPL,
on the other hand, allows for what they call
combined works. What does that mean in practice?
Give me an analogy. OK. Imagine you are building
a car. If you use a GPL engine, the whole car
has to be open source. the design of the seats,
the dashboard, the GPS system, you have to share
the blueprints for all of it. That sounds terrifying
if I'm a car manufacturer who wants to sell unique
seats. Exactly. That is why companies are often
scared of the GPL. But with the MPL, it works
more at the component level. If you take the
MPL engine and modify the engine itself, you
have to share those engine changes. OK. But you
can bolt that engine into a proprietary car.
You can keep your design for the seats and the
dashboard secret as long as the engine code stays
open. I see. So it separates the open ingredients
from the secret sauce you might add on top. Exactly.
It is a pragmatic compromise. It keeps the core
tool free, but lets companies build business
models around it. So those are the guardians.
Now let's look at the other side. The do -what
-you -want licenses. The permissive ones. The
source starts with the MIT license. The MIT license
is incredibly popular right now. It is the ultimate
no -worrys option. It seems almost too simple
when I read the summary. What's the rule? The
rule is basically... You can do almost anything
with this software. Use it, change it, sell it,
merge it with your own code. The only catch.
There's always a catch. A very small one. You
just have to include the original copyright and
license notice in your copy. That is it. Just
keep the name on the label. That's it. It's credit
where credit is due. But otherwise, have at it.
I can see why developers love that. It is low
friction. You don't have to hire a lawyer to
figure it out. It is extremely low friction.
It encourages widespread adoption because no
one is afraid of accidental legal entanglements.
Now, next on the permissive list is the Apache
License 2 .0. This one sounds a bit more formal.
It is similar to MIT in spirit use, modify, distribute
freely, but Ackerman highlights a specific unique
feature of the Apache license that is really
important for businesses. What is that? It provides
an express grant of patent rights from the contributors
to the users. OK, we need to break that down.
Why do I care about patent rights? I thought
we were talking about copyright this whole time.
We are, but software is messy. Copyright covers
the written code, the text itself, but patents
can cover the idea or the mechanism. So what's
the danger? Imagine you build a product using
open source code. You're happy, your customers
are happy. Then, a year later, one of the original
contributors to that code sues you. Sues me for
what? They gave me the code. They claim the software
infringes on a patent they hold. They say, sure,
I gave you copyright permission to copy the text
of the code, but I didn't give you patent permission
to use the invention inside the code. That sounds
like a trap. It is a nightmare scenario. A legal
ambush. The Apache license 2 .0 closes that loophole.
It explicitly says, if I contribute this code,
I am also giving you a license to use any patents
of mine that this code touches. It is like an
insurance policy built into the license. Exactly.
If you are a big corporation like Google or Facebook,
you love the Apache license because it protects
you from those surprise lawsuits. It makes the
code safe for business. That makes a lot of sense.
OK, the last one on our list is the BSD license.
And the source gives us the origin. Berkeley
software distribution from UC Berkeley. A very
historic origin. The BSD licenses, and there
are a few variants, are generally permissive.
They come from the academic world, where the
goal was just to share knowledge. The source
mentions the three -clause BSD. Right. The three
-clause is the most common one. And to be honest,
for the average listener, it is very, very similar
to the MIT license. You can use, modify, and
distribute. So if it is so similar to MIT, why
do we need both? There's a historical difference.
and slight legal wording differences, but functionally.
They both fall into that bucket of, take this
code and build something cool. We don't mind
what you do with it. So we've painted this picture
of the landscape. We've gone from the strict,
you must share everything of the GPL, to the
just don't sue us of MIT and BSD. That is the
spectrum. But here's what I'm wondering. We have
talked about what these licenses say. Why should
the listener, who might just be downloading a
video player, care which one it is? Does it really
change their experience? It might not change
your experience today. I mean, the software works
the same regardless of the license, but it absolutely
determines the future of that technology. How
so? Think about it. If you are a developer, choosing
a license is choosing a philosophy, where you're
trying to build a protected commons where everyone
shares. That is the GPL. You are building a public
park. No one can come in and build a condo on
it. It belongs to the people forever. Right.
And the permissive ones. What are they? That
is providing free lumber. You are saying, here
is some wood. If you want to build a park bench,
great. If you want to build a private mansion
that no one else can enter, that is also fine.
And if you're just a user relying on that software?
It affects the longevity of the tools you rely
on. Is this tool guaranteed to stay free forever
because it is GPL? Or... Could the next version
be locked behind a paywall because it was permissive
and a company decided to take it private? That
is a really sobering thought. The software we
rely on today might not be ours in the way we
think it is. And that leads to a bigger question
about where the industry is heading. Because
Ackerman hints at a trend here. Well, lay it
on us. What is the trend? If we look at the data,
permissive licenses like MIT and Apache are becoming
incredibly popular. They are dominating the new
projects. And remember, the source explicitly
says these licenses allow open code to become
proprietary later. Right. So we're seeing a shift
away from the strict guardians. We are. So here's
the provocative thought to leave you with. If
more and more developers choose permissive licenses,
are we moving toward a future where open source
is just a free R &D lab for corporations? Wow.
Explain that. Well, if the code is MIT licensed,
a giant tech company can take it, improve it,
lock it down, and sell it. They get the benefit
of the community's work, but they don't have
to give anything back. So we're just creating
free building blocks for commercial products.
Are we transitioning away from a standalone ecosystem
of shared freedom, which was the original dream
of the GPL? The GNU is not Unix Dream, and instead
just building those blocks. That is the question,
isn't it? Are we building a library for the world,
or are we just doing unpaid internships for big
tech? That is exactly the tension at the heart
of open source right now. It is a battle between
the idealism of the early days and the pragmatism
of the modern tech industry. That is something
I am definitely going to be thinking about the
next time I hit download. It turns out free is
a lot more complex than I thought. Always a pleasure
to explore the code behind the code. And thank
you to you, our listener, for diving deep with
us today. Check the show notes for the link to
Gary Ackerman's article if you want to read the
full source yourself. Until next time, keep asking
questions.