~ $ cd projects/changes && cat README.md

How this site changes

How this site is built draws where each file stands. This is how often each one moves. Git keeps every commit, and every commit says which files it changed; read over the whole history, that says what the arrows cannot: which files settle and which never do, how far a change travels, which files stand where changes happen, and which change together although nothing in the code joins them.

Like the picture of how it is built, every figure here is read off the history at every push, so it is always the commit being published. Play the history, drag it, or press a commit on the picture of changes, and every figure below shows the source as it stood then.

The picture, as it changed

The picture of how this site is built, seen through its history: each ball as big as the commits that have changed it so far, and warm as it changed lately, cooling by half every six commits; a warm thread between two files that changed together twice or more, dashed where no arrow joins them. Play the history and the heat moves: a feature being written glows and cools, while the frame under the features warms again each time a new one is written. Tangle it, and what changed together pulls together too. Point at a file for what changed with it, or change the lenses for anything else the picture of how it is built can show.

Where the changes went

Each row is a box as it stands now, a folder of the frame or a feature, holding its files over their whole lives, from before they moved there too; the files that are gone have a row of their own. Each column is a commit. Read across, the features come in one after another, each written in a burst and then mostly left alone, while the frame under them keeps being touched. Read down, a column shaded from top to bottom is a sweep: one commit that changed more than thirty files at once. Point at a cell for what its commit did there.

Written, then left alone

The first thing the history says is how little changes. Most files are written once and not touched again, and a file is likeliest to change in the commits right after the one that wrote it.

A file is hottest just after it is written, while what it has to do is still being settled. Then it cools, and stays cool.

The files that never settle

Some files never cool. They are not the young ones.

Adam Tornhill calls a file that changes often and is also large, its lines standing in for how complex it is, a hotspot (Your Code as a Crime Scene, 2015), and starts there: the table gives both. When this page was written, on 28 September 2026, most of the files at its top were ones every feature, or every page, passes through: the list the features are added to, which changes because that is how the site grows; the composition root; the page every page is written into; the terminal that takes it over in the browser. A hotspot that no test runs is where a change most easily breaks something nobody sees.

How far a change travels

When a file changes, what needs it may have to change with it, and what needs that, and so on: the arrows are the roads a change can take. How far they let it go is a property of the design, which MacCormack, Rusnak and Baldwin measured as its propagation cost (2006): the share of the source a change to one file could reach, on average. How far changes did go is another question, which the history can only half answer: two files changed in one commit changed together, and it cannot say which moved the other. What it can say is how often a file changed with something it needs, near or far. At every commit, each file is counted by how far below it, in what it needs or in what that needs, the nearest other change was, and by whether it changed too.

Files joined by an arrow change together far more often than files that are not, and much less often two arrows apart than one. The blast radius drawn on the picture of how this site is built, with its reach set to all, is how far a change could go, not how far changes went.

Standing on moving ground

A file standing near files that change changes more often than one standing far from them, by as much as the figure above says for each distance. Added up over every commit, for each file, the share of files that changed where it stood is how many changes its ground would lead one to expect: its exposure. It says where a file stood, not what moved it. Set against what it did:

Near the line, a file changed about as often as files standing where it stood. Far above it, a file changed for reasons of its own: it grows with every feature, or it keeps being reworked. Far below, a file stood where files change, and did not — a list of what a feature brings, which changes little whatever changes under it. On the picture above, colour set to exposure shows every file's.

Two kinds of unstable

Robert C. Martin measures how stable a component is by its place among the others, not by its history, and he counts two kinds of coupling to do it:

• Ca, its afferent couplings: the files elsewhere that need something in it. Each may have to change when it does, so the more there are, the more it answers for, and the harder it is to change.
• Ce, its efferent couplings: its own files that need something elsewhere. Each may have to change when what it needs does, so the more there are, the more it depends, and the more often something else makes it change.

He counts classes, not arrows, and here a file stands for a class: a file that needs three things elsewhere is one to Ce. His instability puts the two together, I = Ce / (Ca + Ce): 0 for a box that is only needed, hard to change because whatever needs it may have to change with it; 1 for a box that only needs, which nothing stops from changing. Pick a box, and see its two couplings drawn and the sum worked out:

His rule for them is to depend in the direction of stability: an arrow should go from a box to one more stable than itself, so that what is hard to change never needs what is easy to change, and keeps changing. On the picture above, colour set to stability draws every box as deep as it is stable, and the arrows that go against the rule in red. When this was written, on 28 September 2026, most of them left the list of features: one file, needed by one, which by his count stands half way, and which has to point at every feature, because putting them together is what it is for.

He also measures how abstract a box is: here, the share of its files that hold nothing but types, which can be depended on without depending on what anything does. And he draws the two against each other. A box on the line between the two corners, the main sequence, is as abstract as its place asks. A box at the bottom left is needed by much and concrete, hard to change with nothing abstract in it to change instead: the zone of pain. And he says what his picture cannot show, that only what keeps changing hurts there; so each box here is as warm as the history says its files changed, the sweeps left out.

The frame stands near that corner, as a frame would: everything is built on it, and most of it is plain code. Where the two kinds of unstable disagree, a box that is hard to change and changes anyway, is where a change costs most, because what needs it may have to move with it.

An arrow onto a type

The dashed arrows on the picture need only a type: a box that depends on an interface, not on what implements it. That is dependency inversion, and its promise is that a change to what implements the interface does not reach those that use it: there is no arrow for it to travel, and the figure of how far a change travels counts how seldom files change with nothing changed below them. What an arrow onto a type can still carry is a change to the type itself. For each kind of arrow, how often a change at its head came with a change at its tail:

An interface that grows by what its users may leave alone, a field they need not fill, changes without them; one that breaks them changes with them. And where one file is most of the arrows onto a type, the count is mostly that file's, which the caption says when it is so.

What changes together

Two files that keep changing in the same commits are tied in the history, whatever the arrows say. Harald Gall, Karin Hajek and Mehdi Jazayeri called it logical coupling (1998). A commit that changed more than thirty files is left out: a rename across the whole source changes everything at once, and says nothing about what needs what.

Where there is an arrow, changing together says it is a strong one: it carries. The pairs worth reading are those with no arrow between them, near or far: they share something the compiler cannot see. Among them are the page the build writes, in node, and the terminal that takes it over in the browser. This site's first rule is that the content is in the HTML, and this is its price: the page and the script that reads it must agree on its markup, a contract no import states, kept by changing both. On the picture above, they are the dashed threads.

With its test

A change that comes with a change to its test, in the same commit, is the mark test-driven work leaves in a history. The history cannot say which was written first, only that they went together.

The changes to files no test imports directly are counted apart: some of those files a test runs through another, as the shell's tests run its commands, and some no test runs at all.

What it is not

The history starts on 7 September 2026, so it is short, and some of these numbers are small enough to move with the next commit. A commit is the unit, however much it changed: a one-word fix and a rewrite are one change each. The history is the main line's, and a branch's commits arrive with the merge that brought them. The tests are left out of every count but the last, because a test changes when what it tests does, and would count every change twice. The sweeps are left out of what changes with what, and of how often a box changed. And changing together is not needing each other: it is what has to be explained.

The analyses are small programs in the source of this site, tested like the rest of it, and they read the same history the picture of how it is built plays.