Richard Stallman is a figure of monumental importance in the world of computing, a man whose ideas have reshaped the digital landscape while whose personal conduct has sparked fierce debate. As the founder of the Free Software Foundation and a pioneer of the free software movement, Stallman’s philosophical and technical contributions are undeniable. Yet, his legacy is complicated by persistent controversies surrounding his ethical stances and remarks that many have found troubling. To understand Stallman fully, one must grapple with both his intellectual brilliance and the discomfort his behavior has provoked. Stallman’s greatest achievement is his uncompromising advocacy for software freedom. In the 1980s, as proprietary software began dominating the industry, he articulated a vision where users should have the right to study, modify, and share software without restriction. This philosophy crystallized in the GNU Project and the creation of the GNU General Public License (GPL), which enshrined these principles into legal frameworks that still underpin open-source development today. His work laid the foundation for Linux, countless free software projects, and a broader cultural movement that values transparency and user autonomy. Without Stallman, the digital world would look vastly different—more enclosed, more controlled by corporate interests. Yet, alongside his idealism, Stallman has often exhibited a combative and polarizing demeanor. His rigid adherence to principle sometimes borders on dogmatism, leading him to dismiss practical concerns in favor of ideological purity. He has been known to alienate even allies with his unyielding rhetoric, such as his insistence on calling Linux "GNU/Linux" to emphasize GNU’s role—a stance that strikes many as pedantic. While such traits might be dismissed as mere eccentricities in another context, they take on greater weight when combined with his more controversial statements. The most serious criticisms of Stallman stem from his comments on sensitive social issues, particularly those involving sexual misconduct and consent. In 2019, his resignation from MIT and the Free Software Foundation followed public backlash over remarks he made regarding the Jeffrey Epstein scandal, in which he appeared to downplay the gravity of Epstein’s crimes. Stallman’s defenders argue that his words were taken out of context, that he was engaging in a legalistic dissection of terminology rather than excusing wrongdoing. His critics, however, see a pattern of insensitivity—one that includes past jokes about sexual assault and dismissive attitudes toward harassment concerns in the tech community. Stallman’s defenders emphasize his intent: he approaches ethical questions with the precision of a programmer, parsing definitions with little regard for how his words might land in broader societal discourse. To him, the truth of a statement exists independently of its emotional impact. But this very trait—his inability or unwillingness to navigate the human dimensions of his speech—has made him a lightning rod for criticism. In an era where the tech industry faces growing scrutiny over its culture and ethics, Stallman’s behavior has been seen by some as emblematic of deeper problems: a community that prizes intellectual rigor over empathy, that tolerates abrasive personalities if they produce valuable code. The paradox of Stallman is that the same mind that crafted a revolutionary ethical framework for software seems, at times, blind to the ethical nuances of human interaction. His life’s work champions freedom, yet some of his statements have made people—particularly women and marginalized groups in tech—feel unwelcome or unsafe. This tension raises difficult questions: Can one separate a visionary’s ideas from their personal conduct? Should the free software movement, which Stallman helped define, be judged by his flaws? There are no easy answers. What remains undeniable is Stallman’s impact. He forced the world to recognize that software is an ethical issue, not just a technical one. But his legacy is now inseparable from the debates over whether genius excuses indifference, whether principle absolves insensitivity. In the end, Stallman is a man who demanded that technology serve humanity—yet whose own humanity, in all its brilliance and imperfection, remains as contested as the systems he sought to liberate.