The Profit Myth: Why Does Big Tech Fear Open Source?

We’ve Been Lied To About What Drives Innovation

You’ve been told that if no one gets rich, no one innovates.

That progress is only possible if there’s a paycheck dangling at the end of the stick.

But think about it: some of the most vital work in our world—volunteer firefighters risking their lives, caregivers who show up with no financial reward, Wikipedia editors keeping the record straight, mutual aid groups organizing without a profit in sight—none of it is driven by the almighty dollar.

And what if I told you the greatest digital tools on Earth were built by people who gave them away—on purpose?

That’s the myth of the profit motive.

The story we’ve all been sold: that human creativity only works if there’s cash on the line.

But open source flips that story on its head.

Every time you search the web, you’re leaning on Linux. Every time you connect to WiFi or play a video, you’re dancing on code built by volunteers.

Hell, even when your phone boots up, it’s probably powered by software that’s free as in freedom, not free as in free beer.

So why do we keep buying the idea that profit is the only real motivator?

Why do we let billion-dollar monopolies hold our digital lives hostage, while the real wizards of the internet are people who share their code for the love of it?

Today we’re going to rip that myth to shreds. We’re going to trace the real story of open source—the hackers, the legal rebels, and the communities who built the digital backbone of our world for free.

We’re going to talk about how this isn’t charity or some utopian dream—it’s an economic survival strategy and a direct threat to Big Tech’s empire.

👉 And if you want to go even deeper, I’ve got a full ebook on open source and the digital resistance. It’s packed with the historical twists, the license battles, and the strategies you can use right now.

If you’re ready to join the cyber resistance, grab that ebook—it’s got the full details I couldn’t fit here.

Alright, let’s dive in.

How Does Open Source Flip the Script?

Let’s travel back to the dawn of computing, when code wasn’t locked behind billion-dollar paywalls—it was a shared resource, like a family recipe passed down.

In the 50s and 60s, universities and hobbyists traded programs like baseball cards. There were no NDAs at the time, nor corporate lawyers breathing down your neck. Just a collective belief: if you found a bug, you fixed it. If you built something cool, you shared it.

This was the birth of the hacker ethos—the freedom to tinker, to remix, to build without asking permission. A world where knowledge was a common good, and curiosity was king.

But that freedom didn’t last.

By the late 70s, the money men had smelled the potential.

IBM and the other hardware giants saw there was gold in the software, not just the machines. They slammed shut the doors to the digital commons, turning what was once a public playground into a walled fortress of profit.

For the hackers, it felt like betrayal. And for one hacker at MIT, it was personal.

Richard Stallman watched this shift happen in real time. In the early 80s, he ran into a problem so mundane it’s almost poetic: a printer jam. But when he tried to fix the driver, he found the source code was locked away behind a corporate NDA. A printer jam he could see— but was forbidden to solve.

It was a moment of clarity.

Stallman realized this wasn’t just about a printer—it was about a war on the very idea of shared knowledge. It was a declaration that even the most basic code could be owned, hoarded, and sold back to the people who needed it most.

So in 1983, he did what any good hacker would do—he started building something better.

He launched the GNU Project, a bold mission to create software that would always be free—free to study, to modify, to share. Not free as in “zero dollars,” but free as in liberation. (Libre not gratis)

Then, in 1989, Stallman unveiled a legal hack as powerful as any technical one: the GNU General Public License (GPL). This was no ordinary license. It was a boomerang: if you used or improved on free software, you had to share it back. This means No take-backs, and no corporate capture.

It was a line in the sand— a legal shield for the hacker commons.

But even this wasn’t enough. GNU needed a final puzzle piece: a kernel. Enter Linus Torvalds.

In 1991, a young Finnish student with a rebellious streak dropped the Linux kernel on the world like a match on dry grass.

It was simple. It was powerful. And it was open.

Suddenly, GNU and Linux clicked together, forming the first truly free operating system—a digital commons that no single company, no single boardroom, could own.

This was no longer just about writing code—it was about rewriting the rules of power.

It was a global experiment: what happens when everyone, everywhere, can build on each other’s work?

And you know what? It worked.

By the late 90s, Linux was powering the internet, running the world’s fastest supercomputers, and fueling an explosion of creativity that no corporate fortress could contain.

Microsoft was so terrified they called Linux a “cancer,” trying to drown it in lawsuits and fear.

But it was too late. The genie was out of the bottle.

Open source was no longer a hobby or an idealistic daydream—it had become the digital backbone of our world. Proof of what happens when you let curiosity, not cash, lead the way.

What is Open Source, Really?

Let’s break it down: open source isn’t just code you can peek at or tweak. It’s a living, breathing ecosystem—a culture, a community, and a legal framework all rolled into one.

First, it’s a development model.

Open source means building software in the open. That means no gatekeepers or gatekeeping allowed. Every bug report, every patch, every new feature is there for the world to see, to test, and to improve.

It’s not a black box like corporations—it’s a bazaar of ideas, where anyone can walk in and make something better. That’s why open source can move faster and get stronger than the locked-down world of corporate software.

Second, it’s a culture. In open source, your worth isn’t measured by your job title or where you got your degree. It’s measured by what you build, what you share, and how you show up. It’s a place where curiosity rules and where unorthodox minds thrive—because here, intensity isn’t a problem.

Third, it’s a legal fortress. Open source licenses—like the GPL, MIT, and Apache—aren’t just dry paperwork. They’re shields that protect your work from corporate capture. They say: if you use this code, you have to keep it open. If you build on the commons, you owe it back to the commons. Copyleft isn’t just a legal clause—it’s a boomerang that keeps freedom in circulation.

And let’s be clear: “free software” and “open source” aren’t at odds.

Free software is the moral stance—freedom as a human right, no compromises. Open source is the pragmatic stance—collaboration as a proven method to build better tech.

Both reject the idea that software should be hoarded and sold back to us at a premium.

So what is open source, really? It’s more than a way to write software. It’s a statement: that knowledge should be shared, not locked away. That tools should serve the people, not the shareholders. That the best work happens when we build it together.

This means no kings of code nor data landlords. Just people—collaborating, tinkering, and rewriting the future in the open.

Can Volunteers Really Outperform Corporations?

Here’s the million-dollar question: if people aren’t charging for their software, how the hell can they build something that beats corporate-funded R&D?

Let’s start with the numbers. 100% of the 500 fastest supercomputers in the world run Linux. Let that sink in: the world’s most complex, high-stakes computing—powered not by some billion-dollar lab, but by a global swarm of volunteers, students, and renegade developers.

Apache—built by a worldwide team of contributors—runs massive chunks of the internet’s web servers. Python, PostgreSQL, Blender, Kubernetes—these aren’t hobby projects. They’re the beating heart of modern tech, community-driven and outpacing their proprietary competitors.

Why? Because when you take out the pressure to charge for every feature or lock people in, you remove the perverse incentives. No more software designed to trap users. No more endless upgrades just to keep people paying. Open source is driven by what actually matters: craft, quality, and the fierce satisfaction of solving real problems for everyone—not just for the shareholders.

And here’s the real story that the profit-obsessed myth misses entirely: why people contribute in the first place.

It’s the joy of creation—that rush of getting code to click, of seeing something you built come alive. It’s the intellectual challenge—an endless puzzle that stretches curious minds, where neurodivergent thinkers turn intensity into genius.

It’s also altruism and reciprocity—but let’s be real: it’s bigger than charity. Open source is a form of mutual aid. It’s about creating public goods that everyone can use, benefit from, and build on. It’s about giving back to the tools and communities that gave so much to you—and investing in an ecosystem that grows stronger the more you share.

Every contribution is a vote for the future you want to see—a future where knowledge is shared, not hoarded. Where tools are built to empower, not to exploit. That’s why open source is more than just code. It’s a declaration of values and a living example of how collective action can create things no single company ever could.

And let’s not forget reputation. In open source, your work is your calling card. For folks shut out by traditional hiring bias—women, trans people, Black folks, neurodivergent minds—open source is a place to prove what you’re made of without having to navigate the same systemic barriers from employment.

Here’s the final piece: future leverage. Every line of code you contribute is an investment in your skills, your community, and your future opportunities. You’re planting seeds that grow into consulting gigs, speaking opportunities, or even entire businesses.

This is what terrifies the corporate old guard. Because when people build not to charge at every turn but to create public goods and empower each other, they build software that lasts. They build ecosystems that adapt and evolve faster than any closed team.

Humans aren’t driven solely by money. We’re driven by mastery, autonomy, and purpose—and that’s exactly what open source delivers.

That’s why volunteers who don’t charge for the software itself consistently outperform corporate giants who do—because they’re driven by something bigger than a price tag. They’re driven by the future they want to see.

Can You Really Make a Living With Open Source? (Hell Yes.)

Here’s the biggest misconception: that open source is just a hobby. A passion project that never pays. Bullshit.

Open source isn’t unpaid labor. It’s an alternative economic ecosystem—and it’s more viable than you’ve been led to believe.

Let’s break it down:

👉 Consulting and Customization – Companies want open-source tools tailored to their needs. You’re the expert. You make it sing.

👉 Support and Training – Like Red Hat: selling peace of mind, not the code. Teaching folks how to wield the power of open source.

👉 Cloud Hosting and Managed Services – From AWS to smaller players, people pay for convenience and scale. Managed Postgres, managed Kubernetes—your expertise can power it all.

👉 Enterprise Support Contracts – Big players want guarantees. SLAs, custom integrations, security audits? That’s paid work.

👉 Paid Add-ons and Plug-ins – Open core: the code stays free, but premium features or plug-ins fund the work. No lock-in, just more power.

👉 SaaS Layers – Turn your project into a hosted service (like GitLab). Keep the code open, sell the convenience.

👉 Grants, Fellowships, and Sponsorships – From Mozilla to GitHub Sponsors to the Sovereign Tech Fund, real money backs real impact.

👉 Training and Certification – Workshops, courses, certs. You don’t need to build an empire—just share your expertise.

👉 Hardware and IoT Tie-ins – Projects like Raspberry Pi show how open software can drive hardware sales too.

👉 Crowdfunding – People vote with their wallets. Big features, new releases? Let the community help foot the bill.

👉 Books, Content, and Events – Document your work. Host your own events. Let your second brain shine—and monetize it.

Here’s the truth: in open source, money flows from value creation, not rent-seeking or surveillance. It’s about making something real—without begging the gatekeepers for scraps.

For marginalized folks and anyone tired of the corporate treadmill, open source is a lifeline. It’s how you reclaim your economic agency. It’s how you build a livelihood on your terms, not theirs.

And if they want to dismiss it as charity or “idealism”? Let them. Because the rest of us know the truth: open source is the future—and we’re already building it.

How Does Open Source Threaten Techno-Feudalism?

Here’s where the stakes skyrocket. Because open source isn’t just better software—it’s a direct threat to the digital landlords who think they own the internet.

We’re living in what some call techno-feudalism: a system where a handful of corporations own the platforms, own the data, own us. Every click, every message, every interaction—they’re extracting rent from our lives.

Closed-source software is their secret weapon: it’s how they keep us locked in and paying up.

Open source smashes those walls. It says: “This code belongs to everyone—not just the boardrooms of Meta or Google.” 

When the code is open, it’s not just about fixing bugs—it’s about taking back control. You can adapt it. Improve it. Fork it if they abandon it—like when Oracle tried to let OpenOffice rot and the community said, “Nope.” They forked it into LibreOffice and kept the dream alive.

Open source is the antidote to forced obsolescence—the endless cycle of upgrades that only benefit shareholders. It’s how we stop letting digital landlords decide who gets access and who gets left out.

Every time you use or contribute to open source, you’re not just writing code—you’re voting with your keyboard for a world where software serves people, not just profits.

That’s why it terrifies Big Tech. Because it proves that the real power is in our hands.

Can Open Source Be Both Liberation and Livelihood?

Here’s the gut-punch insight that’s missing from most conversations: open source isn’t just about free software—it’s about radical self-determination.

Open source is a double liberation. First, it’s cultural freedom. You’re not begging for a seat at someone else’s table. You’re building your own table, your own future, your own community. Every patch, every pull request, every contribution is a quiet rebellion against the idea that you need a boss to decide if your work matters.

Second, it’s economic autonomy. You’re not just making something for free. You’re investing in yourself and your communities—on your own terms. Ethical revenue models aren’t just possible—they’re already thriving. They’re based on reciprocity, not extraction—offering services, support, or add-ons around open code instead of locking it away.

For those of us who’ve been told we’re only here to check a DEI box? Open source is where our skills and insights finally get seen—where we’re not just contributors, we’re leaders.

Because let’s be real: we’re not just qualified. We’re overqualified. The more the old system tries to push us out, the more we’ll build alternatives that are better, stronger, and free.

How Do We Turn Code Into Collective Power?

This is where it all comes together. Because open source isn’t just about software—it’s about rewriting the story of work, value, and agency.

When you stop pouring your best ideas into companies that see you as disposable, you reclaim your power. When you build something that actually belongs to you and your collaborators, you’re not just making software—you’re rewriting your relationship with labor itself.

It’s collective empowerment. Tiny teams, scrappy hackers, and community-minded creators can build real alternatives to the corporate platforms that exploit us. We can design a world that respects data, creativity, and collaboration.

And for marginalized folks—people of color, queer folks, disabled people—it’s even bigger.

Open source is a space where your voice matters, your leadership is recognized, and your work is seen. Every repo you fork, every issue you file, every commit you push—it’s a vote for a world that’s built on shared purpose, not corporate greed.

Here’s the rallying cry: every line of code you liberate is a line of code that can’t be owned by a digital landlord. Every project you start is a step away from exploitation and a step toward collective freedom.

Ready to Replace, Reclaim, and Reinvent? Let’s Do This.

Alright, so what’s next? It’s time to put all this talk into action—because you don’t need anyone’s permission to start building a digital future that belongs to you.

Here’s the first step: replace one closed-source tool you use this week with an open-source alternative. Start with your browser, your notes app, your file storage—whatever feels doable. Watch how it changes the way you see the tools you use every day.

Then, reclaim your power by joining or supporting an open-source project you believe in. It doesn’t have to be code—open source thrives on writers, designers, marketers, translators, and testers too. Bring your skills and your second brain. Find a project that sparks something in you, reach out, offer help—or even just spread the word. Awareness is part of the revolution.

And finally, reinvent the way you think about work and value. You don’t need a boss to tell you your work matters. You don’t need to chase someone else’s bottom line to prove your worth. Every contribution you make, every project you lift up—it’s a declaration that the future of tech belongs to all of us.

Here’s the final truth: open source isn’t just about code. It’s about rewriting the social contract of technology itself.

It’s about showing that collaboration, curiosity, and shared purpose can outlast any walled garden or corporate monopoly.

👉 And if you want to go even deeper, grab the full ebook on open source and the digital resistance. It’s packed with the twists, the history, and the real-life tactics that I couldn’t fit into this newsletter. Join the cyber resistance—because the future is open, and it’s ours to build.

Stay Curious,

Addie LaMarr