Posts from August 2025

It’s uncommon, but not unheard of, for a GitHub issue to spark an uproar.  That happened over the past month or so as the WHATWG (Web Hypertext Application Technology Working Group, which I still say should have called themselves a Task Force instead) issue “Should we remove XSLT from the web platform?” was opened, debated, and eventually locked once the comment thread started spiraling into personal attacks.  Other discussions have since opened, such as a counterproposal to update XSLT in the web platform, thankfully with (thus far) much less heat.

If you’re new to the term, XSLT (Extensible Stylesheet Language Transformations) is an XML language that lets you transform one document tree structure into another.  If you’ve ever heard of people styling their RSS and/or Atom feeds to look nice in the browser, they were using some amount of XSLT to turn the RSS/Atom into HTML, which they could then CSS into prettiness.

This is not the only use case for XSLT, not by a long shot, but it does illustrate the sort of thing XSLT is good for.  So why remove it, and who got this flame train rolling in the first place?

Before I start, I want to note that in this post, I won’t be commenting on whether or not XSLT support should be dropped from browsers or not.  I’m also not going to be systematically addressing the various reactions I’ve seen to all this.  I have my own biases around this — some of them in direct conflict with each other! — but my focus here will be on what’s happened so far and what might lie ahead.

Also, Brian and I talked with Liam Quin about all this, if you’d rather hear a conversation than read a blog post.

As a very quick background, various people have proposed removing XSLT support from browsers a few times over the quarter-century-plus since support first landed.  It was discussed in both the early and mid-2010s, for example.  At this point, browsers all more or less supportXSLT 1.0, whereas the latest version of XSLT is 3.0.  I believe they all do so with C++ code, which is therefore not memory-safe, that is baked into the code base rather than supported via some kind of plugged-in library, like Firefox using PDF.js to support PDFs in the browser.

Anyway, back on August 1st, Mason Freed of Google opened issue #11523 on WHATWG’s HTML repository, asking if XSLT should be removed from browsers and giving a condensed set of reasons why it might be a good idea.  He also included a WASM-based polyfill he’d written to provide XSLT support, should browsers remove it, and opened “ Investigate deprecation and removal of XSLT” in the Chromium bug tracker.

“So it’s already been decided and we just have to bend over and take the changes our Googlish overlords have decreed!” many people shouted.  It’s not hard to see where they got that impression, given some of the things Google has done over the years, but that’s not what’s happening here.  Not at this point.  I’d like to set some records straight, as an outside observer of both Google and the issue itself.

First of all, while Mason was the one to open the issue, this was done because the idea was raised in a periodic WHATNOT meeting (call), where someone at Mozilla was actually the one to bring it up, after it had come up in various conversations over the previous few months.  After Mason opened the issue, members of the Mozilla and WebKit teams expressed (tentative, mostly) support for the idea of exploring this removal.  Basically, none of the vendors are particularly keen on keeping native XSLT support in their codebases, particularly after security flaws were found in XSLT implementations.

This isn’t the first time they’ve all agreed it might be nice to slim their codebases down a little by removing something that doesn’t get a lot of use (relatively speaking), and it won’t be the last.  I bet they’ve all talked at some point about how nice it would be to remove BMP support.

Mason mentioned that they didn’t have resources to put toward updating their XSLT code, and got widely derided for it. “Google has trillions of dollars!” people hooted.  Google has trillions of dollars.  The Chrome team very much does not.  They probably get, at best, a tiny fraction of one percent of those dollars.  Whether Google should give the Chrome team more money is essentially irrelevant, because that’s not in the Chrome team’s control.  They have what they have, in terms of head count and time, and have to decide how those entirely finite resources are best spent.

(I will once again invoke my late-1900s formulation of Hanlon’s Razor: Never attribute to malice that which can be more adequately explained by resource constraints.)

Second of all, the issue was opened to start a discussion and gather feedback as the first stage of a multi-step process, one that could easily run for years.  Google, as I assume is true for other browser makers, has a pretty comprehensive method for working out whether removing a given feature is tenable or not.  Brian and I talked with Rick Byers about it a while back, and I was impressed by both how many things have been removed, and what they do to make sure they’re removing the right things.

Here’s one (by no means the only!) way they could go about this:

1. Set up a switch that allows XSLT to be disabled.
2. In the next release of Chrome, use the switch to disable XSLT in one percent of all Chrome downloads.
3. See if any bug reports come in about it.  If so, investigate further and adjust as necessary if the problems are not actually about XSLT.
4. If not, up the percentage of XSLT-disabled downloads a little bit at a time over a number of releases.  If no bugs are reported as the percentage of XSLT-disabled users trends toward 100%, then prepare to remove it entirely.
5. If, on the other hand, it becomes clear that removing XSLT will be a widely breaking change  —  where “widely” can still mean a very tiny portion of their total user base — then XSLT can be re-enabled for all users as soon as possible, and the discussion taken back up with this new information in hand.

Again, that is just one of several approaches Google could take, and it’s a lot simpler than what they would most likely actually do, but it’s roughly what they default to, as I understand it.  The process is slow and deliberate, building up a picture of actual use and user experience.

Third of all, opening a bug that includes a pull request of code changes isn’t a declaration of countdown to merge, it’s a way of making crystal clear (to those who can read the codebase) exactly what the proposal would entail.  It’s basically a requirement for the process of making a decision to start, because it sets the exact parameters of what’s being decided on.

That said, as a result of all this, I now strongly believe that every proposed-removal issue should point to the process and where the issue stands in it. (And write down the process if it hasn’t been already.) This isn’t for the issue’s intended audience, which was other people within WHATWG who are familiar with the usual process and each other, but for cases of context escape, like happened here.  If a removal discussion is going to be held in public, then it should assume the general public will see it and provide enough context for the general public to understand the actual nature of the discussion.  In the absence of that context, the nature of the discussion will be assumed, and every assumption will be different.

There is one thing that we should all keep in mind, which is that “remove from the web platform” really means “remove from browsers”.  Even if this proposal goes through, XSLT could still be used server-side.  You could use libraries that support XSLT versions more recent than 1.0, even!  Thus, XML could still be turned into HTML, just not in the client via native support, though JS or WASM polyfills, or even add-on extensions, would still be an option.  Is that good or bad?  Like everything else in our field, the answer is “it depends”.

Just in case your eyes glazed over and you quickly skimmed to see if there was a TL;DR, here it is:

The discussion was opened by a Google employee in response to interest from multiple browser vendors in removing built-in XSLT, following a process that is opaque to most outsiders.  It’s a first step in a multi-step evaluation process that can take years to complete, and whose outcome is not predetermined.  Tempers flared and the initial discussion was locked; the conversation continues elsewhere.  There are good reasons to drop native XSLT support in browsers, and also good reasons to keep or update it, but XSLT is not itself at risk.

 

• No, Google Did Not Unilaterally Decide to Kill XSLT was published on Friday, August 22nd, 2025.
• It was assigned to the Browsers, Commentary, and XSLT categories.
• There have been three replies.

Previously on meyerweb, I explored ways to do strange things with the infinity keyword in CSS calculation functions.  There were some great comments on that post, by the way; you should definitely go give them a read.  Anyway, in this post, I’ll be doing the same thing, but with different properties!

When last we met, I’d just finished up messing with font sizes and line heights, and that made me think about other text properties that accept lengths, like those that indent text or increase the space between words and letters.  You know, like these:

div:nth-of-type(1) {text-indent: calc(infinity * 1ch);}
div:nth-of-type(2) {word-spacing: calc(infinity * 1ch);}
div:nth-of-type(3) {letter-spacing: calc(infinity * 1ch);}

<div>I have some text and I cannot lie!</div>
<div>I have some text and I cannot lie!</div>
<div>I have some text and I cannot lie!</div>

According to Frederic Goudy, I am now the sort of man who would steal a infinite number of sheep.  Which is untrue, because, I mean, where would I put them?

Visually, these all came to exactly the same result, textually speaking, with just very small (probably line-height-related) variances in element height.  All get very large horizontal overflow scrolling, yet scrolling out to the end of that overflow reveals no letterforms at all; I assume they’re sat just offscreen when you reach the end of the scroll region.  I particularly like how the “I” in the first <div> disappears because the first line has been indented a few million (or a few hundred undecillion) pixels, and then the rest of the text is wrapped onto the second line.  And in the third <div>, we can check for line-leading steganography!

When you ask for the computed values, though, that’s when things get weird.

Text property results

	Computed value for…
Browser	text-indent	word-spacing	letter-spacing
Safari	33554428px	33554428px	33554428px
Chrome	33554400px	3.40282e+38px	33554400px
Firefox (Nightly)	3.40282e+38px	3.40282e+38px	3.40282e+38px

Safari and Firefox are at least internally consistent, if many orders of magnitude apart from each other.  Chrome… I don’t even know what to say.  Maybe pick a lane?

I have to admit that by this point in my experimentation, I was getting a little bored of infinite pixel lengths.  What about infinite unitless numbers, like line-height or  —  even better  —  z-index?

div {
	position: absolute;
}
div:nth-of-type(1) {
	top: 10%;
	left: 1em;
	z-index: calc(infinity + 1);
}
div:nth-of-type(2) {
	top: 20%;
	left: 2em;
	z-index: calc(infinity);
}
div:nth-of-type(3) {
	top: 30%;
	left: 3em;
	z-index: 32767;
}

<div>I’m really high!</div>
<div>I’m really high!</div>
<div>I’m really high!</div>

It turns out that in CSS you can go to infinity, but not beyond, because the computed values were the same regardless of whether the calc() value was infinity or infinity + 1.

z-index values

Browser	Computed value
Safari	2147483647
Chrome	2147483647
Firefox (Nightly)	2147483647

Thus, the first two <div> s were a long way above the third, but were themselves drawn with the later-painted <div> on top of the first.  This is because in positioning, if overlapping elements have the same z-index value, the one that comes later in the DOM gets painted over top any that come before it.

This does also mean you can have a finite value beat infinity.  If you change the previous CSS like so:

div:nth-of-type(3) {
	top: 30%;
	left: 3em;
	z-index: 2147483647;
}

…then the third <div> is painted atop the other two, because they all have the same computed value.  And no, increasing the finite value to a value equal to 2,147,483,648 or higher doesn’t change things, because the computed value of anything in that range is still 2147483647.

The results here led me to an assumption that browsers (or at least the coding languages used to write them) use a system where any “infinity” that has multiplication, addition, or subtraction done to it just returns “infinite”.  So if you try to double Infinity, you get back Infinity (or Infinite or Inf or whatever symbol is being used to represent the concept of the infinite).  Maybe that’s entry-level knowledge for your average computer science major, but I was only one of those briefly and I don’t think it was covered in the assembler course that convinced me to find another major.

Looking across all those years back to my time in university got me thinking about infinite spans of time, so I decided to see just how long I could get an animation to run.

div {
	animation-name: shift;
	animation-duration: calc(infinity * 1s);
}
@keyframes shift {
	from {
		transform: translateX(0px);
	}
	to {
		transform: translateX(100px);
	}
}

<div>I’m timely!</div>

The results were truly something to behold, at least in the cases where beholding was possible.  Here’s what I got for the computed animation-duration value in each browser’s web inspector Computed Values tab or subtab:

animation-duration values

Browser	Computed value	As years
Safari	🤷🏽
Chrome	1.79769e+308s	5.7004376e+300
Firefox (Nightly)	3.40282e+38s	1.07902714e+31

Those are… very long durations.  In Firefox, the <div> will finish the animation in just a tiny bit over ten nonillion (ten quadrillion quadrillion) years.  That’s roughly ten times as long as it will take for nearly all the matter in the known Universe to have been swallowed by supermassive galactic black holes.

In Chrome, on the other hand, completing the animation will take approximately half again as long asan incomprehensibly longer amount of time than our current highest estimate for the amount of time it will take for all the protons and neutrons in the observable Universe to decay into radiation, assuming protons actually decay. (Source: Wikipedia’s Timeline of the far future.)

“Okay, but what about Safari?” you may be asking.  Well, there’s no way as yet to find out, because while Safari loads and renders the page like usual, the page then becomes essentially unresponsive.  Not the browser, just the page itself.  This includes not redrawing or moving the scrollbar gutters when the window is resized, or showing useful information in the Web Inspector.  I’ve already filed a bug, so hopefully one day we’ll find out whether its temporal limitations are the same as Chrome’s or not.

It should also be noted that it doesn’t matter whether you supply 1s or 1ms as the thing to multiply with infinity: you get the same result either way.  This makes some sense, because any finite number times infinity is still infinity.  Well, sort of.  But also yes.

So what happens if you divide a finite amount by infinity?  In browsers, you very consistently get nothing!

div {
	animation-name: shift;
	animation-duration: calc(100000000000000000000000s / infinity);
}

(Any finite number could be used there, so I decided to type 1 and then hold the 0 key for a second or two, and use the resulting large number.)

Division-by-infinity results

Browser	Computed value
Safari	0
Chrome	0
Firefox (Nightly)	0

Honestly, seeing that kind of cross-browser harmony… that was soothing.

And so we come full circle, from something that yielded consistent results to something else that yields consistent results.  Sometimes, it’s the little wins that count the most.

Just not infinitely.

• To Infinity… But Not Beyond! was published on Wednesday, August 20th, 2025.
• It was assigned to the Browsers and CSS categories.
• There have been two replies.

I was on one of my rounds of social media trawling, just seeing what was floating through the aether, when I came across a toot by Andy P that said:

Fun #css trick:

width: calc(infinity * 1px);
height: calc(infinity * 1px);

…and I immediately thought, This is a perfect outer-limits probe! By which I mean, if I hand a browser values that are effectively infinite by way of theinfinity keyword, it will necessarily end up clamping to something finite, thus revealing how far it’s able or willing to go for that property.

The first thing I did was exactly what Andy proposed, with a few extras to zero out box model extras:

div {
	width: calc(infinity * 1px);  
	height: calc(infinity * 1px);
	margin: 0;
	padding: 0; }

<body>
   <div>I’m huge!</div>
</body>

Then I loaded the (fully valid HTML 5) test page in Firefox Nightly, Chrome stable, and Safari stable, all on macOS, and things pretty immediately got weird:

Element Size Results

Browser	Computed value	Layout value
Safari	33,554,428	33,554,428
Chrome	33,554,400	33,554,400
Firefox (Nightly)	19.2 / 17,895,700	19.2 / 8,947,840 †

† height / width

Chrome and Safari both get very close to 2²⁵-1 (33,554,431), with Safari backing off from that by just 3 pixels, and Chrome by 31.  I can’t even hazard a guess as to why this sort of value would be limited in that way; if there was a period of time where 24-bit values were in vogue, I must have missed it.  I assume this is somehow rooted in the pre-Blink-fork codebase, but who knows. (Seriously, who knows?  I want to talk to you.)

But the faint whiff of oddness there has nothing on what’s happening in Firefox.  First off, the computed height is19.2px, which is the height of a line of text at default font size and line height.  If I explicitly gave it line-height: 1, the height of the <div> changes to 16px.  All this is despite my assigning a height of infinite pixels!  Which, to be fair, is not really possible to do, but does it make sense to just drop it on the floor rather than clamp to an upper bound?

Even if that can somehow be said to make sense, it only happens with height.  The computed width value is, as indicated, nearly 17.9 million, which is not the content width and is also nowhere close to any power of two.  But the actual layout width, according to the diagram in the Layout tab, is just over 8.9 million pixels; or, put another way, one-half of 17,895,700 minus 10.

This frankly makes my brain hurt.  I would truly love to understand the reasons for any of these oddities.  If you know from whence they arise, please, please leave a comment!  The more detail, the better.  I also accept trackbacks from blog posts if you want to get extra-detailed.

For the sake of my aching skullmeats, I almost called a halt there, but I decided to see what happened with font sizes.

div {
	width: calc(infinity * 1px);  
	height: calc(infinity * 1px);
	margin: 0;
	padding: 0;
	font-size: calc(infinity * 1px); }

My skullmeats did not thank me for this, because once again, things got… interesting.

Font Size Results

Browser	Computed value	Layout value
Safari	100,000	100,000
Chrome	10,000	10,000
Firefox (Nightly)	3.40282e38	2,400 / 17,895,700 †

† line height values of normal /1

Safari and Chrome have pretty clearly set hard limits, with Safari’s an order of magnitude larger than Chrome’s.  I get it: what are the odds of someone wanting their text to be any larger than, say, a viewport height, let alone ten or 100 times that height?  What intrigues me is the nature of the limits, which are so clearly base-ten numbers that someone typed in at some point, rather than being limited by setting a register size or variable length or something that would have coughed up a power of two.

And speaking of powers of two… ah, Firefox.  Your idiosyncrasy continues.  The computed value is a 32-bit single-precision floating-point number.  It doesn’t get used in any of the actual rendering, but that’s what it is.  Instead, the actual font size of the text, as judged by the Box Model diagram on the Layout tab, is… 2,400 pixels.

Except, I can’t say that’s the actual actual font size being used: I suspect the actual value is 2,000 with a line height of 1.2, which is generally what normal line heights are in browsers. “So why didn’t you just set line-height: 1 to verify that, genius?” I hear you asking.  I did!  And that’s when the layout height of the <div> bloomed to just over 8.9 million pixels, like it probably should have in the previous test!  And all the same stuff happened when I moved the styles from the<div> to the <body>!

I’ve started writing at least three different hypotheses for why this happens, and stopped halfway through each because each hypothesis self-evidently fell apart as I was writing it.  Maybe if I give my whimpering neurons a rest, I could come up with something.  Maybe not.  All I know is, I’d be much happier if someone just explained it to me; bonus points if their name is Clarissa.

Since setting line heights opened the door to madness in font sizing, I thought I’d try setting line-height to infinite pixels and see what came out.  This time, things were (relatively speaking) more sane.

Line Height Results

Browser	Computed value	Layout value
Safari	33,554,428	33,554,428
Chrome	33,554,400	33,554,400
Firefox (Nightly)	17,895,700	8,947,840

Essentially, the results were the same as what happened with element widths in the first example: Safari and Chrome were very close to 2²⁵-1, and Firefox had its thing of a strange computed value and a rendering size not quite half the computed value.

I’m sure there’s a fair bit more to investigate about infinite-pixel values, or about infinite values in general, but I’m going to leave this here because my gray matter needs a rest and possibly a pressure washing.  Still, if you have ideas for infinitely fun things to jam into browser engines and see what comes out, let me know.  I’m already wondering what kind of shenanigans, other than in z-index, I can get up to with calc(-infinity)…

• Infinite Pixels was published on Thursday, August 7th, 2025.
• It was assigned to the Browsers and CSS categories.
• There have been ten replies.