Through a confluence of issues, Safari (Apple's web browser, and the only browser allowed on iOS) has been a hot topic lately:
When these kinds of teapot tempests stir up, you can often sort the reaction from the technical community into a few buckets. At the extreme "actually, Safari is good" side, there are people who argue that the web should be replaced or downgraded into something more like Gemini, or restricted to the feature set of HTML 4 and CSS 2 (no scripting allowed). You know: cranks.
But you'll also see a second group proposing that "browsers should be for documents, not for apps" (e.g. browser developers should just stop adding new features entirely and let's split the web in two). In this line of thinking, a browser like Safari that refuses (or is slow) to implement new APIs or features is doing the world a service, because it keeps the ecosystem tilted toward the "document" side instead of the "app" platform side, where Google has too much influence. These opinions seem more reasonable on the surface, but they're also cranks — it's just harder to explain why.
The flaw in the "document browsers, not app platforms" argument is that it assumes that web APIs can be sorted into clear, easily distinguished buckets — or indeed, that there's a bright line between the two. In fact, as someone who almost entirely builds content pages (jargon about "news apps" aside), I often find that in conversations with "app" developers that I'm more experienced with new browser APIs than they are. Most client-side apps, like GMail or Trello, do not actually use that much of a browser's API surface. Even really ambitious applications like Figma mostly just need methods for storage and display, and they've had those (through IndexedDB and canvas) for at least a decade now.
Should browsers be simpler and easier to implement? This kind of argument often feels very intuitive to the "document web" advocates, because they're used to thinking about new APIs through the context of the marketing bullet points for a new operating system. But when you actually look over a list at Can I Use, an awful lot of the "new" APIs are just paving cowpaths: they're designed to replace or reduce common patterns that developers were already hacking onto pages.
Because JavaScript is a Turing-complete language and web browsers were originally designed with lots of holes in them, none of these APIs are really adding anything new to the browser — it's just that previously, this functionality would have been added by brute force. For example, before browsers created consistent ways to autoplay video without loading a large and dithered .gif file, there were scripts to "play" frames via canvas and a tiled .jpg. You'd be amazed the hacks like this I've seen (and some I've perpetrated).
Are there APIs in Chrome that cross into traditional native app territory? Sure, there's a few, like the Bluetooth or USB access APIs. But while pundits and native developers seem to think those are the vast majority of new browser features, I think it's clear from the listings (and my own experience) that those don't actually represent very much usage in modern apps (they're only about 1/10 of the items on the Can I Use index of JS APIs). They're certainly not what most people complaining about Safari are actually talking about.
What's especially jarring for me, as a visual journalist, is that the same people who rail against the complexity of the web platform will often praise the interactive stories from teams like mine. While I appreciate the support, I can't help but feel that they think our work is less technically challenging or innovative than a "real" developer's, and that they're happy to have a browser push the envelope only as long as it doesn't pose any competition to Apple's revenue stream.
In contrast, if you look at something like my parents' hometown paper (with an ad-blocker, of course), it's not far off from the "document web" ideal — and it looks unbelievably quaint. Despite the warm glow of nostalgia around "the old web" when men were men, browsers were small, and pages were laid out in tables, actually returning to that standard would feel like trying to use DOS for a day: clumsy, slow, and ugly.
That's why when someone says "browsers should be for pages, not for apps," we should ask specifically what they mean by that:
(Incidentally, it's wild how much the mobile market has been distorted on these issues: I think most people would consider it a total non-starter to need to install a desktop app to read Facebook or stream a TV show, but Apple has worked very hard to protect their platform from browser-based options on mobile.)
I think it's possible for someone to look at that list and still insist that yes, they want browsers to be Gopher clients with slightly better font choices. I personally doubt it, though — I suspect most people making the case for a "document-first" web aren't irrational, they just like the romance of the idea and haven't fully thought it through. I sympathize! That doesn't mean we have to take them seriously.