Docker is just a software store — one whose apps happen to run on a web page. Server people will never put it that way, but for ordinary users it’s exactly right. Open Docker, search Jellyfin, click install, wait a moment, open an address in the browser — it works. Open the App Store, search WeChat, click install, wait a moment, an icon appears — it works. Users don’t care about containers, images, daemons. They know one thing: I clicked, and the thing runs. Containers and enterprise support are the phenomena. One URL equals one app — that’s the essence.
The strongest counterargument: a store sells finished products, while this sells parts. Every container is a Lego brick — the player is a part, the database is a part, the mesh VPN is a part; which disk holds the movies, which directory holds the config — the user decides. In the App Store you cannot assign WeChat a database. Strictly speaking, Docker is a parts shop, and that’s why it will never become Apple: Apple sells finished goods, and finished goods must work out of the box.
Counterargument received; the judgment stands. To identify what a thing is, don’t read its nouns — watch the user’s actions. Search, install, use. Nouns are for engineers; actions are for users.
Between parts and finished goods lies a business: pre-assemble the parts and sell the result. Why does nobody do it? Because finished goods mean you own the assembly and the after-sales; a parts shop walks away with clean hands. That business has an old name: a product.
