Figma just learned the hard way that trying to trademark common developer terms is the digital equivalent of claiming you invented breathing. The design software giant recently attempted to trademark the phrase ‘Dev Mode’ — a term about as distinctive in software circles as ‘coffee break’ is in office culture — triggering an unprecedented software trademark dispute that has the open-source community reaching for both pitchforks and legal textbooks.
The backlash highlights a growing tension in tech: as companies race to stake claims on increasingly common terminology, developers find their professional vocabulary being systematically privatized. It’s like watching someone trademark ‘naptime’ at a preschool — technically possible, wildly unpopular, and guaranteed to make everyone scream.
When Your Code Words Become Corporate Property
Developer mode isn’t just any technical term — it’s fundamental shorthand used across countless programming environments. Imagine Microsoft trying to trademark ‘Save File’ or Adobe claiming ownership of ‘New Document.’ These terms function as essential digital infrastructure rather than distinctive brand elements.
This isn’t Figma’s first controversial move since being acquired by Adobe for $20 billion in a deal that raised eyebrows across creative communities. The trademark application appears on the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office’s supplemental register rather than the principal register — a telling detail suggesting even government officials recognized the term might be too generic for full trademark protection.
For open-source advocates, this represents more than bureaucratic overreach — it’s existential. When basic vocabulary becomes corporate property, the collaborative foundation of software development itself comes under threat. Many developers are actively considering alternatives like Penpot, an open-source design platform seeing surge in interest amid the controversy.
The Clown Circus of Tech Term Land Grabs
Figma’s attempted trademark joins an illustrious history of questionable intellectual property claims that have sparked software trademark disputes. From Apple’s infamous attempt to trademark the phrase ‘App Store’ to Meta’s aggressive protection of ‘Meta’ against smaller businesses that had been using the term for years.
The situation echoes the infamous case of an Ethiopian farmer who tried to trademark teff flour — a staple food in Ethiopia for thousands of years. Corporate attempts to claim common terminology aren’t just annoying; they create genuine litigation risks for tech companies navigating increasingly murky intellectual property waters.
The legal framework governing software and trademark issues remains frustratingly outdated in many jurisdictions. While copyright clearly protects specific code implementations, trademarks on functional terminology create bizarre scenarios where common commands become potential legal landmines.
From Dev Mode to Revolt Mode
The developer community’s response to Figma’s move has been swift and unforgiving. Social media platforms erupted with creative expressions of outrage, including suggestions to rename the feature to increasingly absurd alternatives like ‘developer mode,’ ‘whitehat mode,’ or even more colorful variations that won’t survive our editorial standards.
This backlash reveals something significant about modern tech culture: community governance increasingly happens through distributed social pressure rather than traditional channels. When a self-hosting revolution is already gaining momentum among tech-savvy users looking to escape corporate control, moves like Figma’s only accelerate exodus toward community-driven alternatives.
The interesting twist? Figma may actually benefit from this controversy in the long run by receiving free consultation on intellectual property strategy. The immediate and visceral community feedback has likely saved them from a more prolonged and costly reputation management crisis.
The Open Source Nuclear Option
For companies contemplating similar trademark land grabs, the Figma debacle serves as a cautionary tale. The open source community possesses a powerful response mechanism: they can simply build alternatives that render proprietary systems irrelevant. This strategy has already played out successfully across other domains, as seen in database visualization tools and collaborative editing platforms.
The situation highlights how intellectual property law struggles to keep pace with software development practices. While trademark protections were designed to prevent consumer confusion, their application to ubiquitous technical terminology often achieves the opposite effect — creating artificial barriers in environments built on shared knowledge.
For everyday developers, these disputes represent more than legal curiosities. They’re reminders of the increasingly complex relationship between communal technical knowledge and corporate ownership claims. As one developer noted, ‘When common code terms become trademarked property, we all need to start reading the fine print on our keyboards.’