4 reasons I stopped using Ubuntu and don't miss it

I started my Linux journey back around 2001 with Mandrake Linux, which later became Mandriva. I jumped on the Ubuntu train in late 2004. Initially, I tinkered around with it, but kept a Windows partition handy for all those pesky details that Linux could not yet do. I totally abandoned Windows in 2008 and have run exclusively on Linux (and caffeine) since then.

Once you step outside Ubuntu, it becomes clear how many Linux distributions are designed around specific use cases. Some prioritize speed and minimalism. Others focus on stability, rolling releases, or creative workflows. Choosing a distro stops being about defaults and starts being about alignment.

When the system starts making decisions for you

Why autonomy beats hand-holding

For my work, lighter Linux systems with fewer enforced decisions make more sense. I want to decide what runs in the background, how updates behave, and when changes happen. That level of control reduces surprises, but more importantly, it builds long-term trust in the system. When nothing updates itself unexpectedly, and no component changes behavior without consent, the operating system becomes predictable. Predictability is underrated, but it is essential when you rely on your machine every day.

Ubuntu, by comparison, increasingly feels like it wants to manage those decisions on my behalf. Defaults are stronger. Automation is more assertive. The system often assumes that convenience should come before control, even when that convenience is not universally helpful. Over time, that creates friction, not because Ubuntu is broken, but because it no longer aligns with how I prefer to work.

Ubuntu lowers the barrier to Linux and offers a polished first experience. But once you find a distro that truly fits how you think and work, going back feels like accepting limits you no longer need. After working with a system that adapts to you instead of guiding you, those limits become difficult to justify again. These constraints became most apparent in three key areas: the desktop environment, the packaging system, and the overall footprint of the OS.

Ubuntu’s GNOME feels over-customized

Polished, but oddly stiff

Ubuntu runs GNOME, but not in its upstream form, and that distinction matters more than it sounds. Canonical layers extensions, patches, and design decisions on top of GNOME, resulting in a desktop that looks refined at first glance while behaving in subtly frustrating ways once you start living in it. Menus appear where GNOME itself does not expect them. Extensions overlap responsibilities. Small interactions sometimes feel slightly off, like furniture that has been rearranged just enough to trip you in the dark. Updates occasionally shift behavior without delivering a clear improvement, which makes the desktop feel less stable over time rather than more polished.

The end result is a desktop that feels opinionated but not entirely coherent. It is not the clean, predictable GNOME experience you get on distributions that stays close to upstream, and it is not radically different enough to justify the divergence either. You are left in an awkward middle ground where GNOME’s design philosophy is present but constantly interrupted. It works, but it rarely disappears, and that matters when your desktop is something you interact with for hours every day.

Lightly modified or vanilla GNOME environments tend to feel calmer and more consistent. They respect GNOME’s workflow logic and respond better to customization because they are not fighting against additional layers of intent. Once you have spent time with GNOME in a more restrained form, Ubuntu’s version starts to feel less like helpful polish and more like a set of well-meaning constraints. But the friction isn't just visual or organizational; it extends into the very way applications are launched and managed.

Snap packaging still breaks my flow

Slower launches add up faster than you think

Snap was introduced as a modern solution for packaging and security, and conceptually, it makes sense. In daily use, however, it keeps interrupting momentum. Applications that should open instantly hesitate. Small utilities take an extra moment to start. That delay sounds minor, but it compounds quickly.

When you open a browser dozens of times a day or rely on lightweight tools constantly, latency becomes impossible to ignore. Native packages and alternatives like Flatpak often feel more immediate and predictable. They behave like traditional desktop applications without the sense that something else is happening first.

Ubuntu’s increasing reliance on Snap also reduces choice. Workarounds exist, but needing them at all becomes part of the problem. After using a system where packaging stays invisible and fast, the Snap experience starts to feel like friction you no longer need to tolerate. This choice reflects a larger change in Ubuntu’s trajectory and is one where the system’s footprint has expanded far beyond its original boundaries.

Ubuntu has grown heavier than it needs to be

What once felt lean now feels padded

Ubuntu once struck a comfortable balance between usability and efficiency. Over time, that balance has shifted. Modern installs carry more background services, more default applications, and more moving parts than many users actually need.

Ubuntu is shaped by Canonical, and that influence is increasingly visible on the desktop. Decisions around defaults, packaging, and system behavior often feel driven by enterprise strategy rather than individual user experience. That focus makes sense from a business perspective, but it changes who the operating system is really optimized for.

As a desktop user, you feel this in small but persistent ways. Tools are selected for manageability. Flexibility gives way to opinionated choices that are difficult to undo cleanly. The system feels more like a product roadmap than a community-driven platform.

Ubuntu is absolutely not a no-go zone

None of this makes Ubuntu unusable. It simply makes it harder to justify when lighter distributions offer the same core functionality with fewer resources. On modest or older hardware, the difference is immediately noticeable. Systems boot faster and respond quicker; in fact, choosing a truly minimalist operating system can make an aging machine feel brand new again by stripping away the modern 'padding'.

Ubuntu’s added layers are often framed as convenience, but convenience is subjective. For users who value responsiveness and focus over bundled features, that extra weight becomes friction. Once you experience a genuinely lean system again, returning to Ubuntu’s bulk feels unnecessary rather than helpful.