Switcher 2026: Debian is Too Complex For Its Own Good ⭐

There’s no other way to say it: Debian is different. It’s one of two Linux distributions that date back to 1993, the other being Slackware. It’s the upstream base for an astonishing range of other distributions, including some of the most popular, like Ubuntu, Linux Mint, Pop! OS, and Zorin OS. And it chooses reliability and stability over the bleeding edge, with major releases occurring roughly every two years. The current release, Debian 13, dates back to August 2025, and none of the core system components, like the Linux kernel and the GNOME desktop, are in any way up-to-date with the latest versions.

There is a case to be made that boring is good, and I may, in fact, write an article to that effect soon. But Debian isn’t boring, it’s anachronistic and even hostile to its users. And though I’ve installed this distribution at least three times on different laptops since the beginning of 2026, I am still surprised by some of the curious difficulties I encounter when I try to use this system. This isn’t about using the latest versions of whatever technologies, it’s about Debian not doing the minimum.

So let’s start there.

The first stumbling block: sudo, su, and you

The Debian experience starts off well: The installer is mostly friendly and graphical, though there are those weird instances of far too small text not being upsized on a modern, high-DPI display. You can choose between various window managers during setup, which is somewhat unusual (I stuck with GNOME, which I prefer). And then there’s a hint at one of the weirdnesses to come: You’re asked to provide a password for the root (admin) account and then to create your own account, with its own password. Meaning, you don’t just create a single account with root access, which is how most other Linux distributions–and systems like macOS and Windows–work.

You might think that’s a good thing. And maybe it is, assuming you want to remember two different passwords on a system that only accepts passwords (meaning there’s no PIN or biometric login capabilities) and actually use two different passwords. But the way Debian handles security is bizarre.

Most are likely familiar with the notion that certain tasks on a modern computer can occur within the security context of a standard user while others require elevation. In Windows, we typically approve of that elevation using a User Account Control (UAC) prompt, and Linux has a similar prompt for GUI activities. But at the command line, you typically use sudo (e.g. “superuser do”) to temporarily elevate. For example, if you type something like the following, most Linux distributions will report back that this command requires sudo:

apt install

So you try it again, with:

sudo apt install

It prompts you for your password and then it runs the command. Usually. But not in Debian. In Debian, your user account doesn’t even have the ability to use sudo. This command will still prompt you for your password, but after you enter it, you will be told that “username is not in the sudoers file.” And it will fail.

OK.

After Googling this issue, I discovered that you can use the su command to switch users, which in this case can let you run elevated commands using sudo. And there is a root account hiding in Debian, so you can use the following to switch to it:

su –

Then, you’re prompted for the root password. When you enter that, you can then use sudo. It’s like a second layer of security. A really annoying and pointless second layer of security.

To get around this, you can add your normal user account to the sudoers file. Which you accomplish by signing in to root with su and running the following command:

usermod -aG sudo username

After you reboot–signing out and signing back in will not do it–you can then use sudo like a normal Linux user.

The second stumbling block: Package management and the Software app

Above, I noted that I may or may not write a “Boring is good” article. But one article I will definitely write will be called “The Zen of Linux,” which is about the conceptual shifts one needs to make when switching from Windows (especially, but also a Mac, I guess) to Linux. And one of the core conceptual shifts is that Linux has long had integrated package managers for installing, upgrading, configuring, and removing applications (and other software, like drivers).

As with all things Linux, this feel-good story is partially undermined by all the different package manager choices out there; choice is a double-edged sword that can add complexity. But package managers handle all the behind-the-scenes issues around apps, including whatever dependencies each may have. This is something that Microsoft only came to belatedly with Windows, where the Windows Package Manager (winget) offers only partial package manager functionality and feels tacked on because it is.

Long story short, package managers are good. But for the typical Windows user who finds app installer downloads on the web–or maybe in the Microsoft Store, too, speaking of tacked on–not doing that on Linux requires a bit of muscle memory alignment. You should only download a Linux executable from the web as a last resort. You should use a package manager first. That can happen graphically from what most Linux distributions position as a sort of app store; in Debian, this is called Software. Or it can happen from the command line, using that apt (Advanced Package Tool) command noted above.

We’re all different, but the first two apps I typically install–or, in this case, try to install–are a web browser and Typora, my preferred writing app. These days, I’m using the Helium web browser on desktop, and most of the Linux distributions I’ve used offer this through their Software (or equivalent) app. You just search, click “Install,” and off you go. The underlying package manager handles the rest.

Well, not on Debian, not for Helium, and not for Typora. In both cases, Software told me “No App Found” when I searched for those apps.

So did apt when I tried apt search [appname] from the command line. It’s like they do not exist.

Having to install an app from the web doesn’t sound so bad, it’s what we all do in Windows all the time, after all. But Linux is inconsistent when it comes to downloadable files and perhaps overly protective. There are package manager issues to consider, since many apps will offer two or more Linux installer app types (like .deb, .rpm, and so on, plus compressed files like .tar.gz and others), so you need to be on top of that. And depending on the file type you download, you may need to run a command line on it before it will even be executable. It’s a whole world of hurt.

But let me be more specific. I navigated to the Helium website, clicked the “Download” button, and got an AppImage (.AppImage) file. AppImage is a way to install a downloaded executable and handle dependencies automatically, a bit like a DMG file on the Mac. But when I tried to double-click the downloaded file, nothing happened. So I Googled it and used this command line to make the file executable:

chmod +x helium-0.12.4.1-x86_64.AppImage

And then it ran. From its home in my Downloads folder. No.

I went back to the Helium website, found a link to all downloads, and looked to see what was available for Linux. There, I found a .deb installer, which would obviously work in Debian. So I downloaded that, double-clicked the download to run it, and installed Helium normally and successfully through the Software app. In going through this, I completely bypassed the beauty of package managers, because whatever is in Debian 13 is so out-of-date, but at least I got it installed.

There’s no reason to beat this to death, but I had a similar experience trying to get Typora installed. Typora offers some fairly terrible instructions for installing this app on Linux and my success rate using the command line-based instructions is low to nonexistent. But if you scroll down, there’s a link to download the .deb file manually, so I just did that. As before, double-clicking the installer opened the Software app so I could install it. And Typora came up and worked normally.

And that was what it was like to install the first two apps I wanted to install in Debian. Not great.

The third stumbling block: User interface minimalism taken to the extreme

In keeping with the notion of choice being a double-edged sword, Linux is blessed and cursed with different window managers (though Wayland has emerged as the way forward for most) an astonishing array of desktop environments (GNOME, KDE, many more), and then whatever level of customization, typically through the Settings app, where you will find a familiar Appearance interface with Default/Dark style, accent color, and background customization capabilities.

Here, Debian matches what we see in the latest Ubuntu release, but other Linux distributions often go much further. Zorin OS, for example, provides themes that help that distribution look like Windows, macOS, and whatever else.

But there are problems, and the user interface weirdness in Debian surfaces in other ways.

First and most obviously, Debian windows have a Close window button but no Minimize or Restore/Maximize window buttons. You can get around the Restore/Maximize button issue by double-clicking the title bar area in windows, which is intuitive enough (or, at least a learned skill consistent with other platforms). But minimizing a window is not intuitive. I’ve stumbled upon two ways: You can type WINKEY + H (which I guessed might work) or you can right-click the title bar area and choose “Hide” from the pop-up menu that appears.

So what’s the problem? Two things. First, that right-click menu isn’t available in all app windows; Firefox, the default built-in web browser, for example, doesn’t offer this option. And second, there’s no control in Settings to just configure this. Why not give users that choice?

(There are third-party utilities that will help one customize this or any other Linux desktop environment, as I’m sure some reading this were gearing up to tell me. Yes, I know. My point is that I shouldn’t need to play whack a mole with such a basic feature or do research or whatever. This is a weird thing to customize and then provide a control for changing it.)

There’s so much more. But let me highlight one more key UI issue.

Most Linux desktops offer a pretty consistent UI with a system menu bar on the top with access to the quick settings and a dock for accessing pinned and running apps. Together, these things approximate the desktop UIs we see on Windows and the Mac, and one can tap the Start button to bring up a Dash UI that displays the dock, a search box, running app thumbnails (similar to Task view in Windows) and access to a second, blank virtual desktop.

But Debian doesn’t do consistent. On Debian, yes, the Dash works as it does elsewhere, say, on Ubuntu. But you can only access the dock from the dash; there’s no way to display it on the normal desktop, as is the case in just about every single other distribution. I don’t believe you can move it to other screen sides, either. But no matter. Even Ubuntu, which places the dock anachronistically on the left side of the display and in a NeXTStep-like panel mode by default, lets you customize how that thing works. And quite a bit: I usually configure the dock to not use panel mode and to auto-hide when the current window is maximized, but you can always access it by mousing down to the bottom of the screen (where I put it). You cannot do that in Debian. (Again, without a third-party utility.)

Collectively, these two things–the lack of normal window control buttons and the lack of dock customization–may seem minor, but this is the worst form of minimalism. Meaning, minimalism without purpose. If you agree that design is as much about what you put in as what you take out, this is removing too much and doing so without giving users a way to get it back. It doesn’t make any sense. This is where you remove choice?

Conclusions

If you can get past the security, package manager, and user interface issues that hit you like a ton of bricks the second you get to the desktop, Debian is otherwise fine. The hardware, software, and services compatibility is there, and there are even a few advantages to some of the older system components; for example, you can still connect to Google Drive through the Online Services interface, which is no longer possible, say, in the latest Ubuntu. But these are the types of things that would trip up just about any user, and not just beginners. That Debian is not for those new to Linux should be obvious, but I’m curious who exactly gravitates to something this constrained. It just seems directionless, and the lack of choice and customization in the features I point out here runs contrary to the very point of Linux.

Put simply, I don’t get it. I just don’t get it.