If your iOS app sells anything digital in the US, you can send users to your own web checkout today and Apple takes nothing from that sale. That has been true since the contempt ruling in Epic v. Apple in April 2025, and it still holds while a court works out what Apple may charge instead. Apple’s opening bid is 15%. Epic’s answer is close to zero.

For developers the window is open now, and it won’t stay free forever. What you build in the meantime should hold up whichever number the court lands on.

Performance work in mobile development wastes more effort than almost any other kind of engineering. Teams burn sprints shaving milliseconds off benchmarks that no user will ever feel. Meanwhile the problems that actually make people uninstall, the freezes, the janky feeds, the phone that’s dead by 4pm, sit in the backlog because nobody put a number on them.

The gap between what’s easy to measure and what users care about is wide. Closing it starts with picking the right metrics.

The accessibility argument is made with sufficient frequency in developer conferences and engineering blog posts that it has acquired the character of something everyone agrees with and nobody acts on. Apps ship with missing accessibility labels, unlabeled buttons, broken VoiceOver navigation, and dynamic type support that was added for text elements but forgotten for layout constraints. The gap between the accessibility investment that development teams describe as important and the accessibility state of their shipped applications is among the widest in software development.

Mobile testing is harder than web testing for reasons that are partly technical and partly organizational. The technical reasons: the diversity of physical devices, OS versions, screen sizes, and hardware configurations that a production mobile app must run on is several orders of magnitude larger than the browser matrix that web applications face. The organizational reasons: mobile development cycles historically moved faster than testing infrastructure could keep pace with, producing teams that ship without adequate test coverage and accumulate testing debt that compounds with each release.

App Store Optimization was, in its early form, a relatively straightforward keyword game. Include the right terms in your app title and description, achieve a certain volume of downloads and ratings, and the app store algorithm would surface your app to relevant searches. The practitioners who figured this out first made significant money. The techniques spread, the competition intensified, and the algorithm changed — as algorithms always do when they are being gamed at scale.

The cross-platform vs native debate has a quality problem: the people most qualified to give objective assessments have financial or professional stakes in one answer. Agency developers who charge by the hour prefer native because it doubles the billable work. Cross-platform framework vendors publish benchmark comparisons designed to minimize the gaps between their output and native. Native platform advocates at Apple and Google have obvious incentives to characterize cross-platform output as inferior.

Mobile security vulnerabilities cluster in a predictable set of categories. The same mistakes appear in security audits of consumer apps, enterprise apps, and fintech apps with equal regularity. The recurrence of the same errors across different teams and different organizations suggests that the failures are not primarily due to ignorance — most mobile developers are aware that security matters — but to a gap between security knowledge and the specific engineering practices that translate that knowledge into secure code.

SwiftUI launched in 2019 with a demonstration that made experienced iOS developers simultaneously excited and nervous. Excited because the declarative paradigm promised to eliminate the impedance mismatch between interface builder storyboards and code. Nervous because Apple’s track record with new frameworks included several that were replaced, deprecated, or quietly ignored within a few development cycles.

Five years later, SwiftUI is neither the complete replacement for UIKit that Apple’s marketing implied nor the abandoned experiment that skeptics predicted. It is a mature but still-evolving framework that handles a large majority of common iOS UI requirements elegantly, struggles with a specific set of advanced requirements, and has permanently changed how iOS UI code is written even when developers reach for UIKit to solve problems SwiftUI cannot.

The question of whether to build natively for iOS and Android or to abstract across both platforms with a cross-platform framework has occupied mobile development teams for more than a decade. The answer has not settled. What has settled is the character of native development itself — and in 2026, Swift and Kotlin have each reached a maturity that makes the native argument significantly stronger than it was five years ago.