A Bench, a Bit of Shade and Some Decent Links: Rethinking the ChrisJM Footer

Someone emailed me last week to say they'd found my RSS feed "buried in the footer, like a spare key under a flowerpot." Fair comment. It was meant to be helpful, but it had ended up in that no-man's-land where websites put things they don't quite know what to do with. Copyright notices. Privacy links. A row of social icons that look like they were stamped out of the same mould as everyone else's.

That email got me thinking about the bottom of a page. On a personal site, the footer isn't the bin. It's the last thing someone sees before they close the tab. It's the equivalent of walking someone to the gate after a good evening — not the main event, but it says a lot about how the whole thing was hosted.

The bit everyone forgets

Most footers are an afterthought because most websites are built from the top down. You spend ages on the header, the hero image, the first paragraph. By the time you reach the bottom you're knackered and you just want to paste in a copyright line and be done with it. I've done exactly that more times than I'd like to admit.

But a footer is also the only part of the page that every visitor sees if they scroll all the way through. It's a dependable little bit of real estate. And on a site like ChrisJM, where the whole point is that a human being made it, the footer is a chance to be a bit more human than a legal disclaimer.

What a good pub garden actually does

I keep coming back to the pub garden comparison because it's the right kind of unpretentious. A good pub garden doesn't try to be a beer garden in Berlin or a rooftop bar in Soho. It gives you a bench that's mostly level, a bit of shade if you're lucky, and enough space to put your pint down without worrying it'll end up in your lap. It's welcoming without being fussy.

A good website footer can do the same job. It can offer a seat, point you towards the things you might have missed, and then let you go without a hard sell. It doesn't need to shout. It just needs to be there, tidy and friendly, like a landlord who nods when you walk in and doesn't chase you for a review on the way out.

The little table of contents I keep down there

On ChrisJM, the footer is mostly a short list of useful doors. Not a sitemap with forty links, just the ones I'd actually point a friend towards if they were sat next to me.

There's a link back to the home page, obviously, and one to the archive for anyone who fancies a browse. The /now page is there too, because it's the closest thing I've got to a note on the door saying what I'm up to this month. The colophon sits alongside it — the page where I explain what the site is built with and why it looks the way it does. It's not essential reading, but the people who like that sort of thing really like that sort of thing.

Then there's the RSS feed. I know RSS feels like a relic to some people, but I still use it, and putting it in the footer feels like leaving the side gate unlocked for anyone who prefers to come in that way. Next to it is a plain email address, not a contact form with fourteen required fields. If you want to say hello, you can say hello.

And because I'm a bit of a stickler, there's a small accessibility statement and a line about how the site handles data — which, on a personal site with no tracking, is a short paragraph rather than a legal maze.

The human touches that earn their place

A footer can also carry a little bit of personality without turning into a CV. I've got a line that says when the site was last updated, because I like knowing that a page hasn't been left to go stale. There's a short "currently" note — what I'm reading, what I'm listening to, what I'm pretending to learn on the guitar. It changes slowly, which is the point.

I also keep a small note about where the site is made. Not in a flag-waving way, just a quiet bit of context: this is a UK site, written by one person, usually with a cup of tea going cold beside the keyboard. It's the sort of detail that doesn't need to be there, but it makes the bottom of the page feel less like a template and more like a place.

What I've deliberately left out

There are no social media icons in the ChrisJM footer. Not because I'm against social media, but because a row of logos at the bottom of a personal site often feels like a row of fire exits. If I'm somewhere worth finding, I'd rather link to it in a blog post and explain why. The footer doesn't need to be a directory of everywhere else I exist.

I've also resisted the urge to put a newsletter sign-up down there. Nothing against newsletters — I read a few — but a pop-up in disguise at the bottom of the page is still a pop-up. The footer should be the bit where the site relaxes, not the bit where it asks you for something.

Last orders, but no rush

The footer is the pub garden of a website: not the reason you came, but often the reason you stay a few minutes longer. It's where you can put down your glass, have a look at the noticeboard, and decide whether you've got time for one more.

On ChrisJM, I want the bottom of the page to feel like that. A bench, a bit of shade and some decent links. If you've scrolled all the way down, you've earned a proper goodbye — and maybe a quiet nudge towards the archive. No hard sell. Just a gate left open.