Email gives end users multiple signals and filters to work with. PSTN doesn't, and that's why I disagree with your equivalence.
1,544 karma · joined December 22, 2010
Senior Software Development Engineer at Nintendo of America. (Comments/Contents are of my personal opinion.)
A Vtuber.
Favorite IDEs: VSCode, JetBrains Favorite software: Blender, Krita Sexuality: Demisexual
My Discord ID: @hsaito
My Threema ID: https://threema.id/JEJVFX9F
OpenPGP: 67F93ACB4FABDBFF7C38972CE418114A89FFFFA9
Other contacts options, please visit my website: https://hidekisaito.com/
[ my public key: https://keybase.io/unsignedint; my proof: https://keybase.io/unsignedint/sigs/0DTr7vikkFaZO5RzmKqlD0SiaalWXpAFrZEjz3jHOsU ]
I have a clear, specific stance (generally pro-AI, with nuance) and I don’t engage with common fallacies. You’re unlikely to persuade me, and I’m not here to change your mind either. Disagreement is fine; bad-faith or malicious engagement isn’t welcome.
https://medium.com/@unsignedint/where-i-stand-on-generative-ai-and-why-im-not-here-to-negotiate-it-bbf229e7a4f2
Email gives end users multiple signals and filters to work with. PSTN doesn't, and that's why I disagree with your equivalence.
At that point, we’re repeating the same values clash — you see regulation as a workable fix, I see it as evidence of fragility. I don’t think continuing this line is going to get us any further.
If the only way to preserve interoperability is to accept decades of unresolved abuse and perpetual patchwork fixes, then that’s not a trade-off I find compelling. At that point we’re not debating facts, we’re debating tolerance levels — and mine is lower. I think that’s a good place to leave it.
Now compare that to the PSTN: what does 555-123-4567 really tell you? Not much. It’s just a string of digits with no inherent context. And unlike email, I can’t even choose to outright refuse delivery of a call at the network level.
And if the FCC were fully capable of solving this problem, I don’t think we’d still be here after decades of the same issues. That longevity itself is part of my argument: it’s not that people haven’t tried, it’s that the structural limitations resist a clean fix.
Also, IP addresses aren’t a great analogy. They’re not a sole indicator of origination — we have layers of metadata, routing, and reputation systems around them. I’d accept that comparison more readily if phone numbers were spoof-proof. But they aren’t, and that’s yet another area where the FCC hasn’t managed to close the gap.
The key difference for me is that the PSTN moves at a snail’s pace, maybe because of regulatory entanglements, maybe because of interoperability constraints. The result is that problems which have been rampant for decades — spoofing, spam, robocalls — remain trivial to exploit. Email has plenty of its own problems here, but at least you get more signals to work with (headers, DKIM/SPF/DMARC, filtering, etc.) than just a string of 10–12 digits with no real context.
That’s why I’m less inclined to “cherish” a system whose shortcomings shift so much burden onto the end user’s well-being, all in the name of interoperability. If interoperability means putting up with abuse at this scale, then that interoperability isn’t worth much — and that’s where my frustration comes from.
Comparing PSTN to instant messaging walled gardens is interesting, but I’d argue the real parallel is email: a federated, open standard that also suffers from spam and abuse, yet still manages to limp along thanks to heavy filtering and layered trust systems. The PSTN never evolved those trust layers; instead, it relied on scarcity (call cost, geographic constraints) to keep abuse in check. Once those costs collapsed, the trust model collapsed with them.
As for the FCC, sure, they can try to incentivize carriers. But the fact that we need constant regulatory intervention just to keep basic trust afloat suggests the system is no longer structurally sound. Band-aids like STIR/SHAKEN prove the point: we’re bolting authentication onto a protocol that never envisioned it. That might extend its life a little, but it doesn’t make the foundation any less fragile.
So the question isn’t whether the PSTN once had value (it did, massively), but whether preserving it now delivers more value than the cost of propping it up. If a good chunk of people already treat unknown calls as spam until proven otherwise, then the social contract around the PSTN has already been broken.
Legitimacy aside, the only people who still call me without prior arrangement tend to be those who assume they’re entitled to my time and attention on demand. The phone has always been a disruptive form of communication—even if every single call were legitimate (which is far from reality)—because it disregards the boundaries of the recipient’s time.
That’s why I stopped giving anyone real-time PSTN access. For me, it’s voicemail-only now, and honestly, it’s the best decision I’ve made for cutting down on annoyances.
In Japan (the only other system I’m familiar with), it works differently: the caller is charged for the recipient’s end, while the receiver pays nothing. For example, calling a mobile phone from a landline costs more to account for the mobile portion. I remember years ago using a prepaid phone card from a payphone to call a mobile number—the balance drained incredibly fast. This is one reason why younger generations in Japan rarely rely on PSTN for routine calls, since it can quickly become expensive.
It wouldn’t solve everything, but considering how many scammers rely on real-time urgency in their calls, shifting phone communication toward asynchronous messages could actually help. It would undercut that pressure tactic, and it would also make record-keeping much easier.
Efforts like STIR/SHAKEN exist, but they’re little more than a band-aid—and not a particularly effective one—because the underlying network was never designed with resilience or trust in mind.
I know some people push back on this view, often pointing to edge cases where PSTN’s ubiquity still provides value. But as trust in the system erodes, so does its relevance. And if the majority of people already avoid answering calls from numbers they don’t recognize, its practical utility is clearly diminished.
I’m sorry you have to deal with that limitation. I can relate, since I also want to enjoy media in Japanese. Fortunately, having lived here long enough, I can at least comprehend it without subtitles.
Am I happy about it? No, but unfortunately, that’s the reality for now.
In most cases, I suspect the limitation isn’t the fault of the streaming services but rather the content owners. On Netflix, for example, expecting English subtitles for anime in Japan is about as hopeless as expecting Japanese subtitles for U.S.-made films while in the United States.
To Netflix’s credit, their original shows are often subtitled and dubbed in a wide range of languages, which has significantly increased the availability of non-English content worldwide.
The same trend can be seen with music, at least for Japanese music. Until around ten years ago, almost nothing was available abroad. While some regional restrictions remain on certain tracks, the vast majority are now accessible outside Japan.
When you have hundreds, thousands, or even millions of people in the same “park,” what kind of “ground rules” can we all truly agree on? It’s not like we’re gathered around the same dinner table, where a single moderator can keep things civil enough to avoid a brawl. Even then, heated arguments aren’t uncommon.
In an environment where one person’s truth can be another’s misinformation, I’m not sure moderation can ever be applied in a way that satisfies everyone involved.
Think of it this way: you’re hosting a party, and an uninvited stranger kicks the door open, then starts criticizing how you make your bed. That’s about what it feels like to try to “fix” social media.
You don't need to dive deep into what every new service, model, or solution is doing. Instead, I keep an eye on them with peripheral awareness, so to speak. Just because a new model boasts impressive benchmarks doesn’t mean it’s practically useful in real-world contexts. Likewise, trends like agents and “vibe coding” might be valuable in certain scenarios—and that’s great when they are—but they don’t magically solve every business problem.
To be clear, I do explore and make use of new technologies. But my main focus is on what’s actually useful for me. Otherwise, it’s easy to get swept up in the hype—a sea of performative glorification that everyone (and their cats) seems to be chasing. In fact, sometimes there’s value in being a strategic laggard. The latest shiny thing often comes with a hefty price tag, and being aware—without being dazzled—goes a long way.
Personally, I find it helpful to see what people outside my usual information sphere are being exposed to—not just to understand why others may think the way they do, but also to better recognize how that contrast influences the coverage I choose to consume.
Naturally, this means the platform includes misinformation, political spin, and propaganda—because it’s not designed to tell you whether a story is true. As for the Blindspot feature, it may flag sources with a history of low factual reporting, but ultimately, it’s still up to you to decide how trustworthy any given coverage is.
I agree that LLMs often fall short when it comes to capturing the nuanced reasoning behind implementations—and when used in an autopilot fashion, things can easily go off the rails. Documentation isn't just about what is said, but also what’s not said, and that kind of judgment is something LLMs do struggle with.
That said, when there's sufficient context and structure, I think LLMs can still provide a solid starting point. It’s not about replacing careful documentation but about lowering the barrier to getting something down—especially in environments where documentation tends to be neglected.
In my experience, that neglect can stem from a few things: personal preference, time pressure, or more commonly, language barriers. For non-native speakers, even when they fully understand the material, writing clear and fluent documentation can be a daunting and time-consuming task. That alone can push it to the back burner. Add in the fact that docs need to evolve alongside the code, and it becomes a compounding issue.
So yes, if someone treats LLM output as the final product and walks away, that’s a real problem. And honestly, this ties into my broader skepticism around the “vibe coding” trend—it often feels more like “fire and forget” than responsible tool usage.
But when approached thoughtfully, even a 60–90% draft from an LLM can be incredibly useful—especially in situations where the alternative is having no documentation at all. It’s not perfect, but it can help teams get unstuck and move forward with something workable.
Local files work fine if you're always playing music on devices you own and that have local storage. But if you're using media devices like a Chromecast (unless you're casting directly from a device that has access to the local files), or on machines where you don’t have sync privileges—like a work computer—YouTube Music will work, but Spotify won’t.
It's not that I don't want people to be paid. I just believe compensation should be built into the cost upfront, not tacked on afterward through a tipping system that creates unnecessary pressure, especially when ratings are involved.
This isn't about replacing people. It's about preferring a model that's transparent, predictable, and fair without making customers responsible for patching up systemic pay issues.
Everyone has their preferences—this is mine, and I'm comfortable with it.
Now if only Waymo were available in my area…