The Enshittification of Dribbble is Complete

I stumbled onto Dribbble tonight. I go there like one would go to a dive bar they used to frequent: sure, it’s seen better days, but sometimes you need a hit. But I stumbled onto Dribbble tonight and saw that the most popular “shot” was one entitled “I’m leaving Dribbble. After 15 years.” That’s about as long as I’ve had an account there. Back in 2009, it was an invite-only service, and a pal of mine, Greg Newman, had sent me an invite. My time on the service, though, is of little importance. From my first day there, it was essentially like getting drunk off of an IPA named “Impostor Syndrome”… and I hate IPAs.

There were two points in time that drove me away from the site. The first were the “unsolicited” and “unimplemented” design shots. These were what was written on the tin: people taking a stab at redesigning YouTube, Facebook, LinkedIn, any large site, followed by comments saying: “Yo, this is what it should be!” I faintly remember a conversation while I was at Twitch where somebody had essentially done this to us, and my entire team scoffed (and cursed), amongst other things. I have no problem with unsolicited redesigns as a concept. I think it’s an important exercise for designers. However, the Dribbble brand of unsolicited redesign was usually something that had way too much padding, whatever the trend was at the time: skeuomorphism, neuemorphism, minimalism, infinite shadows, translucent glass. Whatever it was, it wasn’t solving any problems. It just took a bucket of trendy slop and poured it on a site’s head like it was Gatorade.

The second one is related to the screenshot. If you’re not able to see it, it’s the prevalence of unconstructive, enshittified comments or “awesome work” posted ad nauseam. It just made the place feel… fake. It exudes the same emotions out of me that “follow-for-follow” social media tactics do. It’s akin to saying “first” on a YouTube video. It’s junk food, and it’s not even the tasty type either.

It wasn’t until today that I could finally validate the feelings that I had about these comments. It’s a microcosm of what Dribbble is in 2025, or what it has been since at least 2020, or maybe even 2017 when Dan sold the place. But, to see somebody I’ve never met pour their heart out about a site they really loved, only to be met with comments that are devoid of any humanity—it hurts¹.

It hurts all the more because we’re seeing this everywhere.