Dandelion-Utilitarian

Since the advent of the modern desktop paradigm in the mid-90s, not a great deal has changed in how we interact with desktop computing interfaces. Sure, the tiling desktop interface has gained popularity in the Linux world over the past decade — DWM, for instance, has been around for about 18 years now. But for the vast majority of computer users, the desktop experience remains largely the same, whether you’re on Linux, Windows, or macOS. Even mobile operating systems have settled into a familiar design language: a swipe-accessible app launcher, and that little pill at the bottom of the screen for multitasking.

macOS has always leaned on a more formal virtual desktop system for handling full-screen applications — something that often confuses new users. But aside from that, it’s not drastically different from the well-established Windows standard that most people have grown familiar with.

That is, until 2022, when macOS Ventura introduced Stage Manager — a baffling, seemingly underbaked feature that’s remained largely unchanged since its debut.

Since owning a MacBook, I’ve found myself regularly toggling Stage Manager on and off, trying to understand the reason for its existence. It always seemed a bit of a mystery to me. On iPadOS, though, it makes perfect sense — it offers a way to multitask that sidesteps some of the platform’s limitations, allowing you to switch between apps more fluidly with a pointer.

One use case that’s worked well for me is when I’m using my iPad (a 13-inch M2 Air) on the Magic Keyboard - Stage Manager lets me have my notes app open alongside a floating PDF window — perfect for academic work — and with a quick tap on the sidebar, I can jump straight into an almost full-screen browser window. While Stage Manager does support more than two apps on-screen at once, I think its primary strength is in offering a more desktop-like way of switching between tasks. It just feels more natural when you’re working with a pointer. Personally, I rarely use it when my iPad is off the keyboard, but it’s definitely come in handy whenever I’ve needed that flexibility.

On the desktop, though, application switching already feels pretty intuitive without Stage Manager. I’ve long held the theory that it’s mainly useful for iPad-first users who want something familiar when they’re on a Mac — and I still think that’s a solid benefit for some.

However, I have to admit- I turned Stage Manager on by accident over two months ago… and I haven’t looked back.

Once I stopped thinking of Stage Manager as an experiment and simply started using it as my default setup, I noticed my workflow became cleaner. I no longer had to contend with multiple windows from unrelated applications cluttering the screen. Minimising or hiding apps isn’t exactly hard work — but with Stage Manager, it’s handled for you. It’s one less thing to think about.

The ability to group multiple apps together in a single “stage.” This has allowed me to keep related applications side by side in more intentional, focused ways.

For example, I might have Scrivener open next to a Safari window with a research topic open, or a few dictionary tabs, in one stage. Meanwhile, another stage might contain a Safari tab with my online banking open, paired with my Notes and a financial spreadsheet. Each stage ends up being defined by a kind of “TV channel” logic — each one focused on a specific topic or task — letting me stay in the flow without closing down or rearranging things I’ll need later.

I’ve found it interesting that all the benefits I’ve gained from using Stage Manager have been psychological rather than technological. There’s no task I’m doing now with Stage Manager that I couldn’t technically do without it — even without minimising apps or entering full-screen mode. macOS has always been excellent for multitasking. But with Stage Manager turned on, I’ve found myself operating under this “TV channel” logic: choosing a stage isn’t just picking a set of apps — it’s picking a mental mode. When I switch to a stage, I’m also switching into the frame of mind I need to use it effectively.

It’s something I now find incredibly useful — and, increasingly, something I think about less and less. Earlier today, I tried turning Stage Manager off just to see if I was still enjoying it or had simply developed a habit. I missed it almost immediately. That separation of topic, of mental space — it’s become second nature. I rely on it without even realising.

That said, it’s not all positive. One downside I’ve noticed is that I’m now less likely to properly close unused applications. If they’re not part of a stage, I tend to just leave them running. It’s not a major issue — macOS handles memory well, and background apps without active windows don’t really hog resources — but it’s still a shift in behaviour. To counter this, I’ve been using an app called MagicQuit, which automatically closes apps after they’ve been idle for a set time. It’s been a handy way to manage a minor task.

It’s interesting how Stage Manager shifts the focus — not just away from windows, but from the management of applications. It changes what I think about and how I interact with the system. Technically, good habits become things I just don’t consider.

There’s also a bit of a learning curve. It’s not steep, but it does require some rethinking. At first, I was only using one app per stage — which defeats the point, really. It was only after some time (and a bit of experimenting) that I started dragging related apps into the same stage and began building stages based on tasks or topics rather than applications.

It’s worth noting that Stage Manager hasn’t replaced my use of full-screen mode. I still fullscreen apps — Scrivener, for example — when I want a distraction-free, dedicated space. But generally, I’m now less prone to having lots of apps in fullscreen, which I suspect may be worse from a resource point of view.

It even has me wondering whether I should dedicate some time to using it more consistently on my iPad — to give myself the same chance to adjust, and maybe make it feel more natural there too. That would fulfil the expectation I originally had for Stage Manager: a unified interface across my two main Apple devices.

But the truth is, it still feels less useful on the iPad, where I’m usually focused on a single app at a time. It doesn’t quite fit the way I use the iPad, at least not at the moment.

While I wouldn’t recommend Stage Manager to everyone, I do think it’s easy to recommend to people like me — people who tend to have multiple things on the go at once. And even then, I have to admit: it’s taken me quite literally a year of experimenting before I reached a point where it clicked, and I saw real value in it. So suggesting someone “just try it” feels a bit odd — like saying, “Give this a year of casual fiddling and eventually you’ll agree with me!”

That said, Stage Manager can be a meaningful improvement. But you have to let go of overthinking it. As long as you’re actively considering Stage Manager, it remains a topic — something separate from your workflow. Once it simply becomes a feature — something you use without thinking — that’s when it starts to show its worth.

I’ve also noticed that Stage Manager doesn’t seem to be widely used — or at least, it’s not often visible in the wild. It’s rare, for instance, to see a Reddit screenshot with Stage Manager active. And when it does appear, it tends to become a talking point in its own right. That tells me it’s probably not a particularly popular feature — which raises a question about its future. Will Apple keep supporting it long-term? Or will it quietly vanish in a few macOS versions’ time?

It’s something to consider. And perhaps yet another reason why putting time and energy into learning to use it might not appeal to everyone.

Regardless of all that, I do think Stage Manager is something worth trying — at the very least. You might find yourself reaping the same benefits I have. And ultimately, that’s been the point of this post: to highlight the value of a feature that’s easy to dismiss without giving it a proper chance. t