About 15 years ago I sold a car I owned. Its fair market value was $5,000, but to get that I'd have to wash it, put an ad on Craigslist, deal with the scammers who want to pay with fake money orders, meet with potential buyers, let them test-drive it, etc., and I didn't have the time or patience to do all that. So instead I sold it to a coworker at a low price, maybe $4,000. I sent an email to the company's water-cooler list and included a photo of the car. Within probably 15 minutes someone replied saying the car would be perfect for his mom. By the end of the day, I had received a personal check, signed over the title, etc., and I thought that was the end of it.<p>A few days later another coworker emailed me with a screenshot of a Craigslist ad for a car like mine. In fact, it actually was for my car! The first coworker listed it for something like $5,250, and by the time Coworker #2 pinged him, he'd already sold it for that price. Coworker #1 didn't even take a new picture -- he just reposted the one I'd taken!<p>At first I felt exploited. Here I was, being nice to my coworkers and offering a discounted car. And I later confirmed that the guy who bought it actually did lie about intending it for his mom, which made the whole thing seem even more unsavory. But I calmed down after a few minutes. I remembered that my plan was to sell it to a coworker rather than deal with the scumbags on Craigslist, and I was willing to take a big discount for that. "Being nice to my coworkers" was just the story that I told myself to justify my priorities. I got exactly what I wanted out of the original deal: an easy way to get rid of a car I didn't need anymore. And unlike me, someone else was willing to put in the effort to flip the car and extract that last $1,000 or so of value. My instant emotional reaction was to feel vaguely cheated, or that the guy I sold it to was a sleaze. But he didn't actually hurt me. I got what I wanted, and so did he.<p>In the case of this software tool, I'd ask the article author whether, in retrospect, he wishes that he'd kept the tool rights and gone down the SEO rabbit hole to monetize it for himself. Let's say further than he was successful, obtaining $X/month in ad revenue. Would he feel better in that case? I'd guess not; for most values of $X, he'd conclude it wasn't worth his time. But what happens once he concedes that he's not going to put in the effort? Does he <i>still</i> not open-source it solely to prevent anyone from monetizing it? That's the key question. Would he feel better knowing that he prevented someone else from benefiting?<p>When we give gifts, we hope the recipient will use it in the way we would have. Use the tool to create awesome ovals. Drive your family around in the car. It's hard when the recipient instead uses it "the wrong way." SEO the tool. Flip the car. But that's always a risk when truly giving a gift with no strings attached.