This Linux filesystem was supposed to change everything—here’s the dark reason it failed


There are dozens of Linux file systems, and I’m sure you’ve heard of ReiserFS at least once. It promised a great deal but ultimately failed. I could give you some technical reason for its demise, but that would be dishonest. The true reason is much darker, and if you heard it, you might appreciate your day a little more.

ReiserFS was a project that promised so much in the early days of Linux, and its lead developer—Hans Reiser—had big aspirations for his invention and company (Namesys). ReiserFS took his Linux file system in an entirely new direction with its B-tree index and tail-packing features—something sorely needed at the time. With distros like SUSE adopting it early, the future looked good for Hans Reiser’s gem, but fate had other plans.

Problems begging to be fixed

Inefficient searches and storage bogged Linux down

In the early days of Linux, file systems were not as performant as they are now—scalability was a mere afterthought, and Ext2 is a prime example.

Everything is a file on Linux, and directories are no different. What you see as a folder icon is merely an illusion, and the directory is actually a special file that stores directory data. The reality is slightly more complex, involving an inode, but that’s the general idea.

To search for a particular filename in a directory, Ext2 performed a linear search of its directory file, which means it checked every file entry one after the other. When a directory contains millions of files (like an email server), and the requests come thick and fast, the server begins to buckle under the enormous pressure.

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B-tree indexing

A rapid and scalable solution that could handle millions of files

A B-tree is a self-balancing data structure organized like a Christmas tree. To skip all the gory details, their primary benefit to ReiserFS is their astounding speed. For example, searching a tree with trillions of items takes only a few dozen operations. For ReiserFS, storing metadata in the tree meant there was no limit to the number of files a directory could contain—unlike Ext2, which got bogged down for every file added.

ReiserFS also stored everything in the tree—metadata and file data. This was very different for the time and eliminated performance bottlenecks during metadata operations.

Tail packing

A sensible space-saving technique

ReiserFS saved space by packing small files into the same block, which is a small (e.g., 4KB) boundary that most file systems use to assign a standard space. When you save a 6KB file, it allocates two 4KB blocks, with half a block going unused. ReiserFS crammed small files into the unused tail of the block, keeping the number of allocations and wasted space down. Such a technique is useful for servers that host many small files, which were every web, email, and file server at the time.

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From the mainline to the main yard

An unrecoverable error

Linux mascot on a globe holding a flag. Credit: Lucas Gouveia/How-To Geek | eamesBot/Shutterstock

It was looking good for Hans and his team, and in 2001, ReiserFS found its way into the kernel mainline. That lasted for several years until Hans and his company hit a tiny snag: he murdered his wife.

In 2008, the state of California convicted Hans of first-degree murder. He initially denied it at his trial but later confessed on tape for a reduced sentence of second-degree murder—which carries 15 years to life. Hans described punching his wife in the mouth and then strangling her while his children played computer games in another part of the house. He stored her body in the bathroom and then in his car for two days while he searched for a place to bury her.

According to Hans, his wife (a physician) was an “unfathomable” psychopath and a gifted liar who was “jealous of her own children.” He also later claimed at a civil trial in 2012 that he was protecting them because she had Munchausen by proxy—a mental disorder where a caregiver fabricates or induces illness in someone under their care. At the same trial, he compared himself to Moses, who murdered a slave master and buried the body in the sand.

Sometime around the first trial, his company had become inactive and ceased all operations. Hans was effectively out of business, and, in the civil trial, he was ordered to pay $60m in damages to his children.

The inevitable demise of ReiserFS

It’s not us, it’s you

To add to the woes, cracks begun to appear in ReiserFS, from subtle file corruption issues to using outdated kernel APIs. The most pressing issue was that ReiserFS got swept up in the Y2038 problem. While ReiserFS could represent times up to 2106, it did not modernize along with the kernel, and in 2022, it was deprecated in the kernel mainline and then later removed in 2024.


Hans had big plans for ReiserFS, and for a while, his company was delivering. Things were looking up for him, but like the rest of us, he couldn’t escape real life. Hans clearly had problems and didn’t deal with them. It cost him his freedom, his children, and his dream.

The moral of the story is: if you don’t maintain your code, Linus will delete it from the mainline.

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Do you ever walk past a person on the streets exhibiting mental health issues and wonder what happened to their family? I have a brother—or at least, I used to. I worry about where he is and hope he is safe. He hasn’t taken my call since 2014.

James and his brother as young children playing together before his brother became sick. James is on the right and his brother is on the left.

James and his brother as young children playing together before his brother became sick. James is on the right and his brother is on the left.

When I was 13, I had a very bad day. I was in the back of the car, and what I remember most was the world-crushing sound violently panging off every surface: he was pounding his fists into the steering wheel, and I worried it would break apart. He was screaming at me and my mother, and I remember the web of saliva and tears hanging over his mouth. His eyes were red, and I knew this day would change everything between us. My brother was sick.

Nearly 20 years later, I still have trouble thinking about him. By the time we realized he was mentally ill, he was no longer a minor. The police brought him to a facility for the standard 72-hour hold, where he was diagnosed with paranoid delusional schizophrenia. Concluding he was not a danger to himself or others, they released him.

There was only one problem: at 18, my brother told the facility he was not related to us and that we were imposters. When they let him out, he refused to come home.

My parents sought help and even arranged for medication, but he didn’t take it. Before long, he disappeared.

My brother’s decline and disappearance had nothing to do with the common narratives about drug use or criminal behavior. He was sick. By the time my family discovered his condition, he was already 18 and legally independent from our custody.

The last time he let me visit, I asked about his bed. I remember seeing his dirty mattress on the floor beside broken glass and garbage. I also asked about the laptop my parents had gifted him just a year earlier. He needed the money, he said—and he had maxed out my parents’ credit card.

In secret from my parents, I gave him all the cash I had saved. I just wanted him to be alright.

My parents and I tried texting and calling him; there was no response except the occasional text every few weeks. But weeks turned into months.

Before long, I was graduating from high school. I begged him to come. When I looked in the bleachers, he was nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t help but wonder what I had done wrong.

The last time I heard from him was over the phone in 2014. I tried to tell him about our parents and how much we all missed him. I asked him to be my brother again, but he cut me off, saying he was never my brother. After a pause, he admitted we could be friends. Making the toughest call of my life, I told him he was my brother—and if he ever remembers that, I’ll be there, ready for him to come back.

I’m now 32 years old. I often wonder how different our lives would have been if he had been diagnosed as a minor and received appropriate care. The laws in place do not help families in my situation.

My brother has no social media, and we suspect he traded his phone several years ago. My family has hired private investigators over the years, who have also worked with local police to try to track him down.

One private investigator’s report indicated an artist befriended my brother many years ago. When my mother tried contacting the artist, they said whatever happened between them was best left in the past and declined to respond. My mom had wanted to wish my brother a happy 30th birthday.

My brother grew up in a safe, middle-class home with two parents. He had no history of drug use or criminal record. He loved collecting vintage basketball cards, eating mint chocolate chip ice cream, and listening to Motown music. To my parents, there was no smoking gun indicating he needed help before it was too late.

The next time you think about a person screaming outside on the street, picture their families. We need policies and services that allow families to locate and support their loved ones living with mental illness, and stronger protections to ensure that individuals leaving facilities can transition into stable care. Current laws, including age-based consent rules, the limits of 72-hour holds, and the lack of step-down or supported housing options, leave too many families without resources when a serious diagnosis occurs.

Governments and lawmakers need to do better for people like my brother. As someone who thinks about him every day, I can tell you the burden is too heavy to carry alone.

James Finney-Conlon is a concerned brother and mental health advocate. He can be reached at [email protected].



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