Anyone who follows my work knows I have never been a big fan of Apple. I generally favor open ecosystems, modularity, and raw performance over Apple's closed approach.
As a regular builder of high-performance desktop computers — typically completing two extensive builds per quarter — I strongly favor the AMD Threadripper and Ryzen AI processor lines. For mobile productivity, I prefer 16-inch laptop form factors that offer professional utility, and I actively champion modular PC designs like the Framework Laptop 16.
Apple’s walled-garden approach, characterized by glued-together, non-upgradable components and premium pricing for locked-down hardware, runs fundamentally contrary to how I prefer to interact with technology.
However, credit must be given where it is due. While I might not have adopted its ecosystem, I deeply admired Apple during those golden years when it consistently introduced innovative, distinctive designs that caused genuine disruption and wonder in the market. Back then, Apple did not just launch products; it launched cultural events.
The original iMac G3, the tactile click-wheel iPod, and the first iPhone were not merely functional gadgets — they were visceral, almost emotional experiences. As recent commentary from Gizmodo aptly summarized, electronic devices used to be like collectible toys for adults, objects we fetishized for their visual and tactile aesthetics. They commanded attention and forced every other company in the industry to scramble back to the drawing board.
