This was so mind-boggling even at the time that SourceForge thought it could leverage its market position to force adware and other nonsense upon its users and get away with it, which itself the last straw in a string of other abuses they subjected users to on the website. It is also so arrogant and presumptive to think that the developers, who's projects were hosted here, would put up with their distribution platform bundling junk with their software.
This was a mortal sin for them, and rightfully so, whereby it became impossible to recover the damage to their reputation. Like, what were they thinking? Did they know they were doomed and just wanted one final ad sale? It’s just an egregious abuse of whatever dwindling power they had which permanently destroyed what little trust that the developers had for them - the same group of people that provided the only real value (for free, even) that SourceForge held.
> This was so mind-boggling even at the time that SourceForge thought ...
They'd been recently bought by a shitty company called DICE that also owned ummm... CNet or Download.com, or some other similar place with lots of downloads for Windows users:
That company already served ~malware~ sorry "bundled third party offers" with their windows downloads, and figured they'd be able to copy-n-paste that approach to popular OSS downloads.
That's not how it played out however, as some of us actually give a shit about things like that. ;)
It was a funny and gross moment shortly after the corporation I was working at had acquired CNet where every IT department was notified by corporate IT that download.com was not a reliable site and should _never_ be used to download software into the company.
TBF, it wasn't just Dice. At that time, CNN and Yahoo (I think) nuked their trollgard- er, comments, and they all went to slashdot. It became the place to go, for top-quality Nazi ASCII art.
To be fair to them there are still a few projects which are still hosted on SF, in some cases it's the only place you can find specific legacy projects.
So if their calculation was that all of open source would stay on their platform with them adding malware, they were wrong. But if the calculation was that a long tail of random small and semi-orphaned projects would stay there after the big popular projects had all migrated, providing them with essentially free revenue for a very long time, they were kind of right.
In the mad, wild world of 2015, SourceForge, once the high priest of open-source sanctuaries, turned to the dark arts, conjuring a storm of controversy that would rattle its sacred halls. This wasn’t your grandma's repository anymore; it became a bizarre bazaar, peddling adware and malware alongside its trove of treasures, much to the horror of its loyal acolytes. They were slipping digital demons into downloads, especially those forsaken projects left to gather dust in the corners of the internet, turning a once-hallowed ground into a haunted house.
Enter the DevShare program, a Faustian bargain if there ever was one. It whispered sweet nothings into the ears of developers, promising them a slice of the pie if they let these third-party gremlins hitch a ride with their creations. But here’s the twist – SourceForge, in a move that would make Machiavelli blush, didn’t always wait for a nod of approval. They shadow-copied projects, dolled them up with their unwanted baggage, and pushed them onto the unsuspecting masses as the real deal.
Who masterminded this descent into madness? The suits at SourceForge under the banner of Dice Holdings, who else? Names weren’t named, but the open-source warriors and keyboard knights didn’t need a who to channel their fury at the sacrilege committed against their digital Eden.
But as the adage goes, "It's always darkest before the dawn," and so it was for SourceForge. By 2016, under the new flag of BIZX, LLC, a wind of change blew through its realm. The DevShare program, that deal with the devil, was slain, laid to rest in the hopes of resurrecting the platform's lost glory. The new overlords vowed a return to the old ways, a purge of the parasitic practices, aiming to restore faith in the digital congregation and bring back the prodigal programmers.
SourceForge’s saga is a testament to the eternal battle for the soul of the internet, a reminder that even in the digital age, the pen (or the code) is mightier than the sword (or the adware).
The word "prodigal" does indeed primarily mean spending money or resources freely and recklessly; wastefully extravagant. However, it can also be used more broadly to describe someone who is lavishly generous; giving profusely or excessively. The term originates from the biblical parable of the Prodigal Son, where "prodigal" refers to the wayward son's lavish and wasteful spending.
Over time, the nuances of the word "prodigal" have expanded, and it can now be used in a variety of contexts to describe any sort of excessive or wasteful behavior, not just financial. Additionally, it can sometimes be used in a positive light, emphasizing generosity and abundance rather than waste.
This was a mortal sin for them, and rightfully so, whereby it became impossible to recover the damage to their reputation. Like, what were they thinking? Did they know they were doomed and just wanted one final ad sale? It’s just an egregious abuse of whatever dwindling power they had which permanently destroyed what little trust that the developers had for them - the same group of people that provided the only real value (for free, even) that SourceForge held.