Craig Federighi:

And if you look at the window title bar, you’ll see how the use of translucent material gives you a sense of place as you scroll your content. 

Now, these same carefully crafted translucent materials are used in the sidebars. So now, your windows take on the personality of your desktop. As you change your desktop picture, your window adapts to reflect that personality and that temperature.

And that translucency helps retain a sense of depth and place as you move your windows over one another.

The above is not a quote about Liquid Glass. This is Apple’s VP talking about OS X Yosemite, way back at WWDC 2014. 

It’s curious to see the similarities to what Apple unleashed last week. Honestly, though, these were the design aspects of Yosemite that I least liked at the time, and they aren’t things I’ve grown any fonder of over the years – especially on the Mac.

It is notable, however, that Federighi uses the term “carefully crafted”. And the translucency was relatively subtle in Yosemite. For me, much of the problem with Liquid Glass stems from how overbearing it is: as I said in my piece for WIRED, rather than helping you focus your attention on what you’re doing, it demands attention for itself.

Very long-time readers of this blog may remember my first encounter with vestibular triggers in software. OS X Lion had full-screen animations, and they made me sick. Alas, I was no John Gruber or Jason Snell. I received a few emails and notes of concern, but the post got no real traction. 18 months later, I wrote about iOS 7 making some users sick – but that was for The Guardian. And that one made a difference, in every sense.

The story spread, but also – and far more importantly – Apple started listening. I and others sent over recommendations. Changes were made. iOS 7 became usable again for millions of people. But one thing has never changed: this aspect of accessibility has apparently never become a foundational part of Apple development, and is instead reactive.

What this means for me is trying to catch the worst vestibular triggers that occur during the summer betas, and hoping they’ll get fixed. Or after September, begging Apple to fix those that remain. Or when that doesn’t happen, trying to remember the triggers that still exist and avoiding related pieces of the operating system entirely. (For example, in Control Centre, tap on Focus and the menu blasts outwards. For you, that may look nice. For me, it’s the fast train to dizzy central.)

Over on Mastodon, Federico Viticci has been writing a lot about iOS and iPadOS. I’m sure you’re familiar with him; if not, I’d say he’s one of the foremost iOS and iPadOS experts in the entire world. He digs deep every single year, writing book-sized reviews on the new systems as they appear. The sheer effort, enthusiasm and sense of detail is really quite something.

He and I appear to be in very different spaces this year, though, with my position on Liquid Glass being significantly more negative. I see gloss – a pretty tech demo that also serves to significantly erode usability and legibility. But because Apple doesn’t bake in vestibular accessibility at a foundational level, the changes being made in Liquid Glass also impact accessibility.

In the Mastodon thread, Viticci noted that iOS 26 now collapses toolbars and it takes an extra tap to perform some actions. He asks: “Is that…better? The animations are gorgeous, sure. But does it actually work better?” To which I’d say: no. Twice.

From a usability standpoint, this is a step back. It’s not simplifying UI, but hiding it. From an accessibility standpoint, the revision is also a problem.

The guidance I – and, I’m sure, others – have provided multiple times to Apple is that motion that cannot be controlled by the user should ideally be removed; which, in reality, has meant being replaced by a crossfade – good enough for most users with vestibular issues. You’ll see this if you activate Reduce Motion on your iPhone. The 3D zoom ‘blast’ when opening folders will be gone. As will other animations, such as when you move through menu hierarchies. (At least in software that doesn’t use its own proprietary animations that ignore Reduce Motion, such as RSS client Reeder.)

What people often don’t realise is that even small/fast pop-out menu animations can be enough to ‘blast’ someone to the point they can be made dizzy. Additionally, transforming static to animated UI via refraction is a potential trigger. (For example, when playback controls start animating because the content beneath them is being refracted.) Both of those things are strewn throughout all of Apple’s upcoming operating system revisions. Beyond that, there are bigger issues too, such as the current iPadOS 26 dev beta windowing having zooming/flyout animations when you tap on the ‘desktop’. If I accidentally watch that, I’m dizzy for minutes. Other people have it much worse than I do.

Online, I tend to get one of three responses to this kind of feedback. The first is from people who don’t believe me, on the basis that I write about Apple kit and also play video games. But vestibular conditions are weird and can be quite specific. I can safely ride rollercoasters, if I’m careful. I can play some games, notably when I’m in control and can anticipate upcoming camera movement. But when watching someone else play or using a UI that blasts animations in front of my face, I can be left uncomfortable for hours.

The second is the people who say “yeah, but that’s what betas are for”, which misses the point. As noted earlier, it’s not like Apple is unaware of motion problems. And, to be fair, the iOS team in particular has been responsive to requests I’ve made. I’d say, roughly, the order then goes iPadOS, macOS, watchOS, and tvOS, with the last of those systems being very poor in terms of making things more usable in this space. More broadly, even though Apple is better than rivals when it comes to this area of accessibility, fixes are not proactive and ensured by default – Apple is too often reactionary, in response to feedback. And that’s a problem.

The third type of response? Those come from people like me. People who suffer from this weird condition and just want to use their devices without fear. It’s absurd using an iPad and having to remember to shut your eyes during every transition, just in case, as I once had to. It’s ridiculous to be scared of installing a new operating system, in case random animations haven’t been dealt with. So big or small, animations should be stilled from day one if a user has Reduce Motion turned on. This should be foundational. It shouldn’t even require feedback. But if that feedback is provided, that is absolutely what should ship come September. Let’s see if that will be the case this year.

I have issues with Apple’s current design trajectory. There’s a lot of gloss – style over substance – with Liquid Glass. While I appreciate some refinements, like the quiet exit of the Home indicator, the more I use macOS 26 and iPadOS 26, the more I question where Apple’s heading.

Historically, Apple has been opinionated and confident in its graphic design. More often than not, it’s also made good decisions. There are exceptions, but the Mac survived and later thrived by marrying beauty and usability. Similarly, the iPhone would never have become a giant in mobile computing if iOS hadn’t looked great and been easy to use. Today, though, Apple too often feels lost when it comes to design.

This sense of unease can be shown by focusing on one key component: the menu bar. This element has been a vital part of the Mac since the platform’s earliest days, helping users quickly and efficiently access commands and controls.

In the first macOS 26 dev beta, Apple removed the menu bar background entirely. Menu bar text and icons suddenly floated above whatever was behind them, dramatically reducing legibility – something that plagues Apple design right now, due to Apple’s obsession with Liquid Glass. Using Reduce Transparency brought the background back, but no one should be reliant on accessibility settings for basic legibility.

In beta 2, Apple added an option to restore the menu bar background. Which is good. Except it also makes me question Apple’s confidence in its design work. When Apple starts hedging its bets, it signals that it knows something is wrong, but lacks the conviction to course-correct. Or perhaps such settings are a means to temporarily shut people up, while default choices reveal the true intent and direction of travel.

On iPad, things are even worse. I’m a fan of the new windowing system, but the menu bar implementation is dreadful. The problem isn’t its auto-hide behaviour – the Mac has had something similar (although off by default) since 2015. Again, the issue is that Apple is so enamoured with transparency that it’s sacrificing visual clarity.

Unfortunately, the ‘fix’ on iPad isn’t yet anywhere near as full as the Mac one. In beta 1, a two-up window view could see menu bar text vanish entirely. In beta 2, Apple added a subtle gradient, which barely helps. Honestly, this is embarrassing – the sort of thing a design student wouldn’t hand in as part of a project. A menu bar coming to iPad is great, but not if you can’t read its text.

I spent five minutes mocking up alternatives, one with a frosted glass effect and the other with a solid background. I’m very aware that they are far from perfect, and one commenter rightly suggested iPadOS would prefer a rounded rectangle menu bar background, like the Dock. But they still offer more clarity than Apple’s proposal. And that’s a problem, because basic foundational graphic design should be the starting point for operating systems many millions of people use every day. Design that lacks legibility shouldn’t make it off of the drawing board, let alone into a beta.

Fortunately, it’s still June. These operating systems won’t ship until September. There’s still time to fix all this. But Apple’s timid iPad tweak doesn’t suggest an eagerness to improve. If anything, it suggests a design team wondering: what’s the bare minimum we can get away with to quiet the complaints?

To say iOS 26 and iPadOS 26 have been divisive is putting things mildly. Much of that is down to Liquid Glass, which at best needs a lot of optimisation before these operating systems ship later this year. But look beyond that and there’s a lot to like, the most notable revamped feature being vastly improved iPad windowing.

Often, though, it’s smaller changes that can make or break an operating system. And one change has me doing a happy dance: the Home indicator no longer scythes across the bottom of the screen, above the app you’re using. I’ve grumbled about the Home indicator for years. I wanted an off switch – the means to get rid of it for good. Because the last thing I need when playing a game, using a music app, or reading, is a distracting line lurking at the bottom of the screen.

In the ’26’ dev betas, Apple hasn’t provided an off switch in Settings, but it has introduced the next best thing. Actually, it’s arguably created something better. When you switch to an app, the Home indicator now elegantly fades. Further interaction with the app doesn’t make it reappear. Instead, you have to make a deliberate upwards swipe from the bottom of the screen to bring it back.

I’m no fan of hidden UI. Apple seems a bit obsessed with hiding settings, menus and tabs away, and that can make things difficult for people. But just this once, I’m going to make an exception, because the interface element I least liked on iPhone and iPad is no longer an irritant and a nuisance – it’s there when I need it and gone when I don’t.

Edit: As per a comment I received, I should note that the ability to switch between apps with a swipe at the very bottom of the display remains, regardless of whether the Home indicator is visible. So what Apple has removed is the visual distraction, not the functionality. When you swipe, the indicator immediately reappears.

What should new Apple leadership do? That’s the question posed in Apple Turnaround by John Siracusa, which explores a new deal for developers, better software reliability, and harder paths to growth. It’s a great post, and the developer side of things especially gets me. I remember being at an EA meet around 2010, with a slew of indies excited about iPhone. They didn’t care about Apple’s cut, because everything else was, for them, better than what existed on other platforms, including the (relative) freedom to do whatever they wanted. Amazingly, Apple was less prescriptive than others in the gaming space. Then things all went very wrong.

Apple prioritised IAP over traditional game models, training users to want games for nothing. App Store editorial led to iPhone game sites shuttering – but they’d given new titles far more visibility than Apple ever would. And competitors quickly learned and evolved to compete with – and then better – Apple’s offering to game creators. Whereas we once saw iPhone-first titles head to other platforms, the reverse quickly became more commonplace. Elsewhere, major mobile creators like Simogo quit, which should have set alarm bells ringing – but it didn’t. Because Apple just counted the cash.

More widely, across apps and games, Apple has also found itself in a space where it’s not just showing – as Siracusa suggests – disrespect for developers as much as outright disdain. Various emails, now very much in the public domain due to emerging in lawsuits, suggest too many senior figures at Apple believe their own press to the degree they think Apple is responsible for all developer success and the success of the platform as a whole. They argue developers should be grateful to Apple and not the other way around. I have two words to counter that: Windows Phone.

I hate doing a “what would Steve Jobs do?” and it’s naive in the extreme to think his Apple wasn’t out to make huge piles of cash. But there are questions today about where Apple’s priorities lie in a whole range of spaces. Perhaps, as one developer said to me, the Jobs version of Apple only appeared to be on the side of devs because it needed to be, and now it doesn’t. So was this disdain always there or not? Was it a culture ingrained in Apple when Jobs was CEO or is it a more recent thing? Because I’d say that if it’s the former, Apple has an even bigger problem than Siracusa suggests.