Speaker 1: Imagine for a second that you were trying to build
Speaker 1: a massive skyscraper.
Speaker 2: Okay, I'm picturing it, but.
Speaker 1: You're not doing it with just a dozen people. You
Speaker 1: were building it with literally thousands of workers.
Speaker 2: Oh wow, that sounds intense.
Speaker 1: Right, and they are all laying bricks, installing plumbing, and
Speaker 1: you know, wiring the electricity at the exact same time
Speaker 1: on the exact same floor.
Speaker 2: That sounds like an absolute nightmare.
Speaker 1: It would be total chaos, all right. Without a master plan.
Speaker 1: They would be building brick walls right over the doorways.
Speaker 2: Yeah, or wiring the plumbing directly into the electrical grid exactly.
Speaker 1: The whole thing would just collapse. Yet, in the digital world,
Speaker 1: companies like Google and Twitter have thousands of engineers working
Speaker 1: on the exact same digital skyscraper every.
Speaker 2: Single day, and they somehow don't tear the building down exactly.
Speaker 1: And the clipboard keeping that entire structure from collapsing is GitHub.
Speaker 2: And you know that is exactly why this matters for you,
Speaker 2: the listener, regardless of your technical.
Speaker 1: Background, right, even if you do right code.
Speaker 2: Exactly, whether you are actively managing a software project, trying
Speaker 2: to catch up on modern tech workflows, or just fascinated
Speaker 2: by human organization because understanding the philosophy of this platform,
Speaker 2: it isn't just about reading code.
Speaker 1: It's way bigger than that.
Speaker 2: It is an absolute masterclass in asynchronous project management. It
Speaker 2: is about how you prevent thousands of incredibly smart people
Speaker 2: from constantly stepping on each other's toes.
Speaker 1: So today, our mission for this deep dive is to
Speaker 1: pull from a foundational text called GitHub Essentials by Achilles
Speaker 1: Pepanellas to figure out exactly how that works.
Speaker 2: It's a great source for this really breaks down the mechanics.
Speaker 1: It really does, because to a lot of people looking
Speaker 1: from the outside, GitHub just looks like, I don't know,
Speaker 1: a digital filing cabinet, like a cloud drive where developers
Speaker 1: just dump text files.
Speaker 2: A glorified drop box.
Speaker 1: Basically, right, But under the hood it is a highly
Speaker 1: sophisticated engine for scaling human collaboration. So, okay, let's impact this.
Speaker 1: Before anyone can actually collaborate, they need a shared space to.
Speaker 2: Work in, right, Yeah, and that shared space is called
Speaker 2: the repository or repo for short. It is the fundamental
Speaker 2: building block of the entire GitHub ecosystem.
Speaker 1: So how does a repo actually work?
Speaker 2: Well, it starts with a very rigid structure. Every single
Speaker 2: repository gets a standardized URL scheme. It is always GitHub
Speaker 2: dot com, followed by a slash, the username of the owner,
Speaker 2: another slash, and then the repository name.
Speaker 1: So it's basically a permanent address.
Speaker 2: Exactly that name. Space acts as a unique digital address.
Speaker 2: You always know exactly who owns what and where it
Speaker 2: lives on.
Speaker 1: The Internet, and the text points out that when you
Speaker 1: are first claiming that digital plot of land. There are
Speaker 1: a few optional files you can start with.
Speaker 2: Yeah, a few foundational things to get you going, like
Speaker 2: the reedeme file, which is basically the welcome matt explaining
Speaker 2: what the software actually does. Super important if you want
Speaker 2: anyone to actually use your project.
Speaker 1: Right, And there's a license file which establishes the legal
Speaker 1: ground rules. But then there's this dodly powerful file called
Speaker 1: dot get ignore And I wanted to ask you about this.
Speaker 2: Ah, Yes, the get ignore file.
Speaker 1: Why do we need a file specifically designed to ignore things?
Speaker 1: That seems counterintuitive for a storage system.
Speaker 2: It does seem weird at first, but it's because of
Speaker 2: how version control operates. You see, as you build a
Speaker 2: project on your local computer, your operating system and your
Speaker 2: code editors generate a massive amount of invisible clutter, like
Speaker 2: what kind of clutter like temporary files, system caches, or
Speaker 2: even worse, And this happens a lot hidden files containing
Speaker 2: your private passwords or apikeys.
Speaker 1: Oh wow, Yeah, you definitely do not want to share those.
Speaker 2: Exactly. If you upload those, you aren't just cluttering the workspace,
Speaker 2: you might be exposing critical security vulnerabilities to the entire public.
Speaker 1: So the dot gettignore is kind of like a filter.
Speaker 2: It's like a bouncer at the door of your repository.
Speaker 2: You program it with a set of rules, and it
Speaker 2: physically prevents those specific files from ever leaving your laptop
Speaker 2: and entering the shared public space.
Speaker 1: Okay, so the bouncer keeps the space clean. But once
Speaker 1: the actual code gets uploaded, we have to talk about
Speaker 1: how people view it.
Speaker 2: Right the interface, because gethub.
Speaker 1: Is essentially a visual wrapper for get right, which is
Speaker 1: the underlying version control software that actually runs in the terminal.
Speaker 2: Yeah, get is the engine, get ub is the dashboard.
Speaker 1: And the book emphasizes how much work getthub does to
Speaker 1: translate that raw terminal data like in a plain text terminal.
Speaker 1: If you want to see the history of a project,
Speaker 1: You type get log and you just get this dense,
Speaker 1: unreadable wall of text.
Speaker 2: It is brutal to look at.
Speaker 1: But on GitHub that is translated into a clean visual
Speaker 1: commits page. Yeah, but let me push back here for
Speaker 1: a second.
Speaker 2: Sure, go for it.
Speaker 1: As a season developer, do you actually need that visual page?
Speaker 1: Is this visual interface just you know, training wheels for
Speaker 1: people who are afraid of the command line.
Speaker 2: That is a common critique. It's easy to dismiss a
Speaker 2: visual interface as training wheels. But what's fascinating here is
Speaker 2: that the UI is entirely about managing cognitive load.
Speaker 1: At scale cognitive load.
Speaker 2: How so, let's look at how git actually saves data.
Speaker 2: Every time a developer saves a change, which is called
Speaker 2: a commit, get mathematically generates a secure hash algorithm or
Speaker 2: SAHA Right.
Speaker 1: The SAHA hash, Yeah, it is.
Speaker 2: A forty character alphanumeric fingerprint that cryptographically guarantees the integrity
Speaker 2: of that exact snapshot of code.
Speaker 1: Forty characters. So if you look at the terminal, you
Speaker 1: are just staring at strings of random letters and numbers
Speaker 1: like seven, three, F nine E two over and over again.
Speaker 2: Exactly Reading that in a terminal is exhausting. It's just
Speaker 2: visual noise. So GitHub takes that forty character cryptographic hash
Speaker 2: and visually strips it down to just the first seven characters.
Speaker 1: Oh interesting, just seven.
Speaker 2: Yeah, mathematically, seven characters is still enough to uniquely identify
Speaker 2: the change without collisions. But it is short enough for
Speaker 2: a human brain to easily read, remember, and even reference
Speaker 2: in a conversation.
Speaker 1: That makes a lot of sense.
Speaker 2: Furthermore, when you look at the actual code changes, GitHub
Speaker 2: highlights new additions in a bright green block and deletions
Speaker 2: in a pinkish red.
Speaker 1: Block, so your brain doesn't even have to parse the
Speaker 1: syntax of the code to know what happened. You just
Speaker 1: see a giant pink block and instantly know, okay, a
Speaker 1: massive chunk of code was removed here, right.
Speaker 2: And when you are a senior engineer reviewing I don't
Speaker 2: know hundreds of lines of code contributed by dozens of
Speaker 2: people every single day, that reduction in mental friction.
Speaker 1: Is huge to stage a ton of energy.
Speaker 2: It is literally the difference between catching a critical bug
Speaker 2: and letting it slip through. It democratizes version control. You
Speaker 2: don't need to hold the matrix of terminal commands in
Speaker 2: your head just to understand the story of how a
Speaker 2: file evolved.
Speaker 1: That makes perfect sense for the macroview, like looking at
Speaker 1: the whole history of the project. But if we zoom in,
Speaker 1: the text outlines a completely different set of tools for
Speaker 1: when you need to investigate a single specific file.
Speaker 2: Yes, the file level tools are fantastic, and.
Speaker 1: It highlights three specific buttons, raw, blame, and history. I
Speaker 1: want to start with raw because when you view a
Speaker 1: file on GitHub, normally it has line numbers, menus, sidebars,
Speaker 1: you know, the whole website wrap, hard qui elements. Yeah, right,
Speaker 1: But the raw button strips all of that away and
Speaker 1: just gives you pure, unformatted text.
Speaker 2: Why is that necessary because you need the raw materials
Speaker 2: for automation. Think about it. If you are writing an
Speaker 2: automated script that needs to download a configuration file from GitHub,
Speaker 2: you use command line tools like w get or curl.
Speaker 1: And those are just basic download tools basically.
Speaker 2: Yeah, these are essentially just little robotic fetch commands that
Speaker 2: go out to the Internet and pull files back to
Speaker 2: your computer. Okay, if you point curl at the standard
Speaker 2: GitHub page, it will dutifully download all the HTML, the
Speaker 2: navigation menus, the CSS styling, which is completely useless to
Speaker 2: a machine trying to read a config file, you would
Speaker 2: just break the script exactly. The raw button provides a
Speaker 2: URL that serves only the pure code, allowing machines to
Speaker 2: talk to machines without human formatting getting in the way.
Speaker 1: Okay, so raw is for the machines. I like that
Speaker 1: analogy of getting the pure product wholesale without the packaging.
Speaker 2: That's exactly what it is.
Speaker 1: But the next button, the blame button, is definitely for humans.
Speaker 1: The text explains that this button annotates every single line
Speaker 1: of a file, showing exactly who modified it last and
Speaker 1: exactly when they did it.
Speaker 2: It's like a forensic fingerprint.
Speaker 1: Yeah, and it even color codes it by hotness, like
Speaker 1: older lines have a brown indicator while newer, freshly written
Speaker 1: lines have a yellow indicator. But I gotta say, honestly,
Speaker 1: blame sounds incredibly toxic.
Speaker 2: The name definitely has a negative connotation, right.
Speaker 1: If we are trying to build a collaborative environment, why
Speaker 1: would we install a button specifically designed to point fingers
Speaker 1: when something breaks.
Speaker 2: It definitely sounds punitive, and in a toxic corporate culture,
Speaker 2: it probably is used that way. But if we look
Speaker 2: at the philosophy of open source, we have to reframe
Speaker 2: it entirely. Also, in a healthy ecosystem, the blame button
Speaker 2: is about context, not punishment. There is a concept in
Speaker 2: systems thinking called Chesterton's fence. Have you heard of it?
Speaker 1: Remind me how that goes. It's about not tearing down
Speaker 1: a fence until you understand why it was built in
Speaker 1: the first place.
Speaker 2: Right, precisely because it might be keeping wolves out.
Speaker 1: Oh right.
Speaker 2: So imagine you are reviewing a file and you see
Speaker 2: a block of code that looks completely illogical, It looks inefficient,
Speaker 2: and your very first instinct is to just delete it
Speaker 2: and write something cleaner.
Speaker 1: Sure, clean up the mess.
Speaker 2: But before you swing the sledgehammer, you click blame. You
Speaker 2: see that this specific line was written three years ago
Speaker 2: by a senior engineer. Now you have a name, you
Speaker 2: can go to that engineer and ask, hey, why did
Speaker 2: you build this.
Speaker 1: Fence, and they might actually have a really good reason exactly.
Speaker 2: They might reply, oh, that ugly code prevents a catastrophic
Speaker 2: memory leak on older Android devices. The blame button gives
Speaker 2: you the historical context needed to avoid repeating pass mistakes.
Speaker 1: That completely changes the framing.
Speaker 2: It's about accountability, accountability and knowledge sharing, and if you
Speaker 2: need even more context. You can just click the history button,
Speaker 2: which filters the entire project log to show you the
Speaker 2: chronological evolution of just that one specific file.
Speaker 1: Okay, so we have a shared space, we have visual
Speaker 1: tools to reduce cognitive load, we have forensic tools to
Speaker 1: understand the context of every single line. But at this
Speaker 1: point we are still just a team working in isolation.
Speaker 2: Right, a private club.
Speaker 1: So the real power of this platform happens when you
Speaker 1: open the doors to the public. How does an isolated
Speaker 1: project transition into a global collaboration.
Speaker 2: It transitions by introducing a social layer to the code.
Speaker 2: GitHub essentially operates as a social network for software, and
Speaker 2: it manages that interaction with a few key features, primarily watch,
Speaker 2: star and fork.
Speaker 1: Okay, let's skip over stars, since the text notes that's
Speaker 1: basically just a standard or favorite button to show a
Speaker 1: project is popular.
Speaker 2: Yeah, it's just vanity metrics mostly.
Speaker 1: And watch makes sense too. It's your notification settings. The
Speaker 1: text notes. You can set it to ignore project entirely,
Speaker 1: or only notify you if someone tags your specific username
Speaker 1: with an atzymbol, or you can.
Speaker 2: Turn on the fire hose and get notified about every
Speaker 2: single comment, which is the big brother mode.
Speaker 1: Right. But here's where it gets really interesting because the
Speaker 1: absolute core of this entire system, the mechanism that makes
Speaker 1: massive open source collaboration possible, is the fork button.
Speaker 2: Yes, the fork is the engine of open source software.
Speaker 1: How does it actually work?
Speaker 2: To understand it, we have to go back to the
Speaker 2: concept of a name space. Earlier, we established that a
Speaker 2: repository lives under the creator's user name their name space.
Speaker 2: If I own a project, I control who has permission
Speaker 2: to write code.
Speaker 1: There because it's your digital property. Right.
Speaker 2: So if you want to help me, traditionally you would
Speaker 2: have to email me, prove your skills, and ask me
Speaker 2: to grant you editing privileges. That is a massive bottleneck.
Speaker 1: Yeah, I mean if a thousand people want to help,
Speaker 1: I can't spend my day interviewing one thousand strangers.
Speaker 2: It would be a full time job just managing permissions.
Speaker 1: So how does forking bypass that? Because I was trying
Speaker 1: to explain this to a friend the other day, and
Speaker 1: I use this soup analogy.
Speaker 2: Oh I like soup. Let's hear it.
Speaker 1: Okay, imagine a master chef makes an incredible pot of soup.
Speaker 1: Forking is like a magic button that instantly clones the
Speaker 1: chef's entire pot, but it places the duplicate pot right
Speaker 1: in your own home kitchen, your own name space.
Speaker 2: Okay, tracking with you.
Speaker 1: You now have absolute ownership of that clone. You can
Speaker 1: add more salt, you can throw in some carrots, you
Speaker 1: can completely ruin the soup, and you will never ever
Speaker 1: affect the chef's original master pot.
Speaker 2: That is a brilliant analogy. It perfectly captures the first
Speaker 2: half of the transaction. By copying the repository into your
Speaker 2: own name space, GitHub completely eliminates the need for upfront permission,
Speaker 2: no gatekeeping exactly. We call this permissionless innovation. You don't
Speaker 2: have to ask the chef if you can experiment with carrots.
Speaker 2: You just do it. But you know, cloning the soup
Speaker 2: doesn't actually help the chef improve their recipe.
Speaker 1: Right, I just have my own weird carrot soup.
Speaker 2: Now, the collaboration actually happens in the second half of
Speaker 2: the process, which is called a pole request.
Speaker 1: So what happens when I finally perfect my recipe with
Speaker 1: the carrots and the salt.
Speaker 2: You take a spoonful of your new improved soup, You
Speaker 2: walk back to the master chef and you hand it
Speaker 2: to them. You are formally requesting that the chef pull
Speaker 2: your specific changes back into the original master recipe.
Speaker 1: Ah a poll request.
Speaker 2: Exactly the chef tastes your spoon, If they like the carrots,
Speaker 2: they click a button and your coat is instantly merged
Speaker 2: into the official project and if they hate it, if
Speaker 2: they don't like it, they reject it. But either way,
Speaker 2: the master project remains completely safe and the barrier to
Speaker 2: entry for new contributors is completely shattered. Anyone anywhere in
Speaker 2: the world can pitch an improvement.
Speaker 1: But see opening the floodgates like that creates a brand
Speaker 1: new problem. We've essentially invited thousands of strangers into our
Speaker 1: kitchen to taste the soup.
Speaker 2: That's a lot of cooks in the kitchen.
Speaker 1: Exactly what happens when five hundred of them start shouting
Speaker 1: that it needs more salt, while two hundred are demanding
Speaker 1: less salt, and fifty are complaining that this soup is
Speaker 1: actually just water.
Speaker 2: It's a little chaos.
Speaker 1: The whole system would crash Without a way to triage
Speaker 1: that feedback. How does GitHub filter that noise?
Speaker 2: That brings us to the central nervous system of project communication,
Speaker 2: which is the issue tracker. When a user finds a
Speaker 2: bug or wants a new feature, they open an issue.
Speaker 1: And it is it just for software bugs.
Speaker 2: No, not at all. It is incredibly versatile. The book
Speaker 2: actually mentions a user who utilizes the issue tracker as
Speaker 2: a personal notepad to track home repairs.
Speaker 1: That's hilarious, but it makes sense.
Speaker 2: It does. It is just a highly structured way to
Speaker 2: track tasks and conversations.
Speaker 1: And it isn't just plain text either. Issues are formatted
Speaker 1: using markdown, which is a lightweight markup language. You can
Speaker 1: quickly bold text, create checklists, and even drag and drop
Speaker 1: images directly into the browser to show a screenshot of
Speaker 1: a broken feature.
Speaker 2: It makes the communication so much richer.
Speaker 1: But let me stop you there for a second. A
Speaker 1: structured conversation is great. But if I am the project
Speaker 1: manager and I wake up to find out one hundred
Speaker 1: open issues submitted by strangers overnight, a giant list doesn't
Speaker 1: solve my problem. It just creates massive anxiety.
Speaker 2: Oh absolutely, And if you leave it as a giant,
Speaker 2: undifferentiated list, the project will stall. If we connect this
Speaker 2: to the bigger picture of agile project management, you have
Speaker 2: to find a way.
Speaker 1: To cut through the noise, SI do they do it?
Speaker 2: GitHub solves this with two specific organizational tools, labels and milestones.
Speaker 1: Let's start with labels.
Speaker 2: Labels are exactly what they sound like, visual metadata. You
Speaker 2: can create a bright red label that says critical bug,
Speaker 2: a yellow one for needs testing, or a green one
Speaker 2: for good first issue aimed at beginners.
Speaker 1: Oh, I see, so you categorize the chaos exactly.
Speaker 2: When those one hundred issues come in, the manager quickly
Speaker 2: triages them by slapping labels on them. Instantly, that overwhelming
Speaker 2: wall of text becomes a queriable database.
Speaker 1: So I can just say, only show me the red
Speaker 1: critical bugs.
Speaker 2: Precisely, you filter the entire tracker, the noise disappears, and
Speaker 2: you know exactly what to focus on today.
Speaker 1: That makes it totally actionable on a daily basis. But
Speaker 1: what about the long term. The text describes milestones as
Speaker 1: a special type of label that comes with a due
Speaker 1: date and a description. Why separate that from a regular label.
Speaker 2: Because milestones are about psychology and momentum. When you are
Speaker 2: building a massive skyscraper, you don't just say build the building,
Speaker 2: you break it down. You say, our milestone this month
Speaker 2: is to finish the plumbing on the first floor.
Speaker 1: It gives people a specific target.
Speaker 2: Right in software, you might create a milestone called version
Speaker 2: one point zero release. You assign fifty specific issues to
Speaker 2: that milestone. GitHub then automatically generates a progress bar.
Speaker 1: Oh, progress bar is so satisfying.
Speaker 2: It really is. As your team fixes bugs and closes
Speaker 2: those issues, the bar visually fills up thirty percent, fifty
Speaker 2: ninety percent. It visually demonstrates to a distributed team exactly
Speaker 2: how close.
Speaker 1: They are to the finish line, which is vital for
Speaker 1: preventing burnout in massive asynchrodous projects.
Speaker 2: Absolutely, you need to see that you are actually making progress.
Speaker 1: Okay, so let's review. The code is versioned. Anyone can
Speaker 1: submit improvements via pull requests, and the feedback is triaged
Speaker 1: into manageable milestones. We have a working system.
Speaker 2: It's a well oiled machine, but there's.
Speaker 1: A missing piece. If a brand new user stumbles upon
Speaker 1: this completed software, they need to know how to actually
Speaker 1: use it. They don't know how to eat the soup, right.
Speaker 2: They need instructions.
Speaker 1: And while a simple reed M file is a good introduction,
Speaker 1: complex software requires a real manual. This brings us to
Speaker 1: documentation and specifically wikis.
Speaker 2: And you know documentation is notoriously the weakest link in
Speaker 2: software development.
Speaker 1: Why is that.
Speaker 2: Because developers hate writing it, and honestly, the moment it
Speaker 2: is written, it usually goes out of date. GitHub tries
Speaker 2: to solve this by providing a wiki directly alongside every
Speaker 2: single repository.
Speaker 1: And just like the issues, it is powered by markdown.
Speaker 1: The text actually spends some time explaining the exact key
Speaker 1: strokes for making internal links with double brackets or transforming
Speaker 1: headers into anchor links. It's very thorough, but honestly, the
Speaker 1: philosophy behind it is what blew my mind. The author
Speaker 1: casually drops this incredible detail. The wiki is not just
Speaker 1: a static web page attached to your project under the hood.
Speaker 1: The wiki is actually completely separate GIT repository itself.
Speaker 2: It's a great plot twist.
Speaker 1: I couldn't believe it. Wait, so it's just repositories all
Speaker 1: the way down.
Speaker 2: It really is, And this is the concept of docs
Speaker 2: as code. It is a brilliant architectural choice. By making
Speaker 2: the documentation its own GIT repository, it inherits the exact
Speaker 2: same superpowers as the software itself.
Speaker 1: That is so clever.
Speaker 2: Your instruction manual now has a complete version history. You
Speaker 2: can use the blame button to see exactly who wrote
Speaker 2: a confusing paragraph. People can fork your documentation and submit
Speaker 2: pull requests to fixed typos, and.
Speaker 1: Most importantly, it has reversibility. The text notes are really
Speaker 1: funny quirk the author experienced they accidentally deleted an entire
Speaker 1: wiki page.
Speaker 2: Oh no panic mode exactly.
Speaker 1: But when they click the button to revert the change,
Speaker 1: the server through a five hundred internal server error total crash.
Speaker 1: But then when they refresh the page, the revert had
Speaker 1: actually worked. The deleted page was brought back from the dead.
Speaker 2: That is the power of treating human text exactly like
Speaker 2: machine code. You never ever lose a good idea, even
Speaker 2: if the server hiccups. The history is perfectly preserved precisely.
Speaker 1: And when the code is stable and the documentation is
Speaker 1: finally written, you need a way to hand this whole
Speaker 1: package to the end user.
Speaker 2: Right, you have to deliver the product.
Speaker 1: You don't want to make a regular user download a messy,
Speaker 1: constantly shifting workspace. You want to hand them a finished product.
Speaker 1: And that is what the release is feature is for.
Speaker 2: Yeah, releases are the bow on top of the package.
Speaker 1: It takes advantage of get tags to freeze a specific
Speaker 1: moment in time, you bundle up the code, the assets,
Speaker 1: and the notes, and you offer it as a clean
Speaker 1: downloadable ZIP file like version one point zero.
Speaker 2: It gives the public a stable.
Speaker 1: Foundation, while the engineers can immediately go back to breaking
Speaker 1: things in the background as they work on version two
Speaker 1: point zero.
Speaker 2: Exactly, it separates the workshop from the showroom.
Speaker 1: So what does this all mean when we take a
Speaker 1: step back from the terminal commands, the commits, and the markdown.
Speaker 1: The real takeaway here is that GitHub is a meticulously
Speaker 1: designed engine for human behavior.
Speaker 2: It's behavioral psychology disguised as software, truly.
Speaker 1: By combining cryptographic accountability with the SAHA, utilizing visual cues
Speaker 1: like the pink and green diffs to lower cognitive load,
Speaker 1: and inventing a social architecture that eliminates the friction of
Speaker 1: asking for permission, gethub found a way to make massive
Speaker 1: human collaboration scale seamlessly.
Speaker 2: It is the invisible scaffolding that keeps the digital skyscraper
Speaker 2: from collapsing under its own weight. It truly is, and
Speaker 2: you know it leaves us with an incredibly profound question
Speaker 2: to think about. GitHub proved that if you give humans
Speaker 2: the right tools for accountability, reversibility and asynchronous communication. Traditional
Speaker 2: gatekeeping becomes obsolete. Thousands of strangers can organize themselves to
Speaker 2: build systems that literally run the modern world.
Speaker 1: Which is still hard to wrap my head around.
Speaker 2: It makes you wonder what other massive, gridlocked human systems
Speaker 2: in our society could be fixed if we just applied
Speaker 2: this exact, open source version controlled mindset to them.
Speaker 1: Oh, that's an interesting thought.
Speaker 2: Imagine local governments, legal codes, or educational curriculums where anyone
Speaker 2: could suggest a pull request, where the context of every
Speaker 2: law could be blamed to its author to see why
Speaker 2: it was written.
Speaker 1: Like Chesterton's fence for city.
Speaker 2: Planning exactly, and where a bad policy could simply be
Speaker 2: reverted to a stable version when an experiment goes wrong.
Speaker 2: How much faster could society innovate if we stopped asking
Speaker 2: for permission to improve the systems we all share.
Speaker 1: That is a fascinating thought. Rebuilding the physical world with
Speaker 1: the exact same collaborative precision we use to build the
Speaker 1: digital one. Keep questioning the systems around you, and we
Speaker 1: will catch you on the next deep dive.