The Power of "No"

We live in a world that constantly pressures us to say
"yes." Yes to the Terms of Service we didn't read. Yes to the
app that everyone else is using. Yes to the convenient, shiny
cage that proprietary software offers. We're told that
compromise is a virtue. I hear arguments like, "I only use
this one proprietary program for work," or "I need it to talk
to my friends." It feels pragmatic.

But in the fight for user freedom, "No" is the most
powerful word in our vocabulary. Refusing to use proprietary
software is not merely a personal lifestyle choice or a
technical preference. It is a form of non-violent resistance.
It is a direct action that strengthens the free software
movement in ways that compromise never can.

Every time we say "yes" to non-free software, we're not
just installing a program; we're validating a system of
subjugation. Every time you say "yes" to a proprietary
program, you're sending a signal to the developer: "Your
model works. I'm willing to trade my freedom for this."
You're validating their power to control you.

Proprietary software relies on our compliance. It needs us
to accept that we don't own our computers, that we have no
right to see the code, and that we must give up sharing and
the spirit of community and cooperation as the price of
admission to modern life.

When you refuse to install a program that disrespects your
freedom - even when it is inconvenient, and
especially when it's inconvenient - you're declaring
that your rights aren't for sale. You're proving that
proprietary software isn't the only way.

The most practical reason to refuse proprietary software
is that necessity is the mother of invention. When you refuse
to use proprietary software, you're creating space for free
programs to breathe and grow. You force yourself, and your
community, to look for - or build - free software that
respects your rights.

The free software movement grows strongest where we draw
hard lines. Consider the early days of the GNU Project.
Richard Stallman started by saying "no" to the culture of
non-disclosure agreements and proprietary that was
suffocating the lab. That "no" was the foundation upon which
the entire free software movement was built. Without that
initial refusal to capitulate, the free software we rely on
today might not exist.

Refusing proprietary software is also an act of
solidarity. When you use a proprietary program to communicate
or collaborate, you're often forcing others to do the same.
You become a node in their network of control, dragging your
friends, family, and colleagues into the same trap through
the network effect. Maybe your friends, family, and
colleagues are already there. In that case, their usage is
applying the network effect to you - the idea that you must
join because everyone else is there. It's a hostage situation
where your friends and family are the leverage. By saying
"no," you chip away at that wall. It isn't easy, yes. You may
miss out on some conversations. You may have to work harder
to collaborate. But you also become a beacon. You show others
that it is possible to exist outside the walled garden.

By saying "no," you break that chain. You might be the
"difficult" person who insists on Jitsi Meet instead of Zoom.
That friction is good. That friction is necessary. It forces
the conversation. It makes the invisible chains of
proprietary software visible. It reminds people that they
have a choice, even if that choice requires effort. When you
say, "No, I cannot use that because it requires me to run
non-free software. Here is a link to a free program we can
use instead," you're doing the hard work of education and
advocacy. You're planting a seed.

Proprietary software is designed to make us feel helpless
• like we can't function without it. Saying "no" reclaims
your dignity. It's a declaration that your freedom isn't for
sale, and that your rights as are non-negotiable.

Finally, the power of "no" lies in integrity. A movement
built on "mostly free" is a movement built on sand. If we
accept small injustices for the sake of convenience, we lose
the moral authority to demand total freedom. Refusing
proprietary software strengthens our collective resolve. It
reminds us that we're not begging for better features; we're
citizens of a digital society demanding our rights.

This isn't an easy path. It requires sacrifice. You might
miss out on certain games, specific streaming services, or
the "convenience" of a system designed to trap you. But as I
wrote in Fueling the Marathon, we're in a generational fight against
entrenched power. Every time you say "no" to a piece of
software that denies your freedom, you're casting a vote for
a future where software serves the user. You're strengthening
the movement by proving that it is possible to live, work,
and thrive without submitting to digital overlords.

So, the next time you're presented with a shiny new app
that demands you surrender your rights, remember the power
you hold.

Say "No."

It's the first step to a world where we can all say "Yes"
to freedom.

Copyright © 2025 Jason Self. Unless otherwise noted
material on this site is licensed under the GNU General Public
License as published by the Free Software Foundation, either
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