Most people don’t need a file to be in two places at once, it’s more confusing than convenient. And if they do want two of a file at all, they almost certainly want them to be separate copies so that the original stays unmodified when they edit the second one. Anyone who really wants a hard link is probably comfortable with the command line, or should get comfortable.
The Mac actually kind of gets the best of both worlds, APFS can clone a file such that they aren’t hard links but still share the same blocks of data on disk, so the second file takes up no more space, and it’s only when a block gets edited that it diverges from the other one and takes up more space, while the unmodified blocks remain shared. It happens when copy-pasting or duplicating a file in the Finder as well as with cp on the command line. I’m sure other modern file systems have this as well.








A minimal but powerful language can feel like magic. Like, literally. The whole appeal of magic in stories is that you can step out of the normal rules and do something that defies belief, and who hasn’t fantasized about that in real life?
If the language you’re using has a lot of magic built into it, things that the language can do but you can’t do, you feel mundane, like the language is letting you look at the cool things it can do, but doesn’t let you do them yourself. A more minimal language, where the important things are in the library, means that the language designers haven’t kept that stuff to themselves. They built the language such that that power is available to everyone. If the language gives its standard library authors the power to do things beautifully and elegantly without special treatment, then your library is getting those benefits too.
It’s also a sign of good design, because just saying “well, this thing magically works differently” tends to be a shortcut, a hack, an indication that something isn’t right and couldn’t be fixed nicely.