Category Archives: iOS

Nullable Edge Cases

I’ve recently embarked on the tedious process of annotating my source code for nullability. This is a good idea in theory, because it adds information about assumptions in your code, which may have been previously held in arcane comments, or worse yet your mind, in a format that can be readily understood by the compiler. If you’re bridging your Objective C to Swift, the idea goes from good to essential, as the nullability information is critical to Swift working safely with your existing classes.

Does nil make sense here or not? If you decide to take on this task, you’ll ask yourself that question again, and again, and again. It sounds like such an easy thing to answer, and it certainly is in many cases, but the edge cases are deeply tied to one of several impedance mismatches between Objective C and Swift.

The easiest answers apply to methods where you can state with absolute certainty that programmers should never pass nil as a method. For example, I’m confident in annotating this method’s single parameter nonnull because the functionality of the method would be inherently undefined were a nil value supplied:

- (void) presentMessageToUser:(NSString*)theMessage;

The implications of marking a method parameter as nonnull are less worrisome than marking a return value, at least with respect to bridging the gap between Swift and Objective C. Because a method parameter will almost always represent the mapping of a Swift variable into Objective C, where handling of nil is traditionally safer, it doesn’t matter as much if a Swift variable passed to a nonnull Objective C parameter actually an optional. Marking method parameters optimistically nonnull is a fairly safe move.

Marking return values accurately is more important, because it maps possibly null values into Swift variable classes that won’t allow it. The annotation of a return value can be very straightforward, if inspection of the method indicates a 100% likelihood of a null response:

- (NSString*) importantString
{
	NSLog(@"Not implemented! Subclass responsibility.");
	return nil;
}

Or a nonnull one:

- (NSString*) errorMessage
{
	return @"Welp!";
}

For this method to return nil, the statically allocated string that the compiler creates and compiles into your binary would have to somehow turn to nil at runtime. If this were to somehow occur, you’d be facing much worse problems than the nonnull method managing to return nil.

It’s only slightly more complicated when the code path for a method can be audited to a degree that a nil result seems exceedingly unlikely:

- (NSString*) localizedErrorMessage
{
	return NSLocalizedString(@"Welp!", @"Error message of last resort");
}

For this method to return nil, NSLocalizedString, which is a macro that maps to -[NSBundle localizedStringForKey:value:table:], would have to return nil. This method is not only annotated by Apple as nonnull, but supported in its documentation as returning sensible, nonnull values in error cases:

This method returns the following when key is nil or not found in table:

  • If key is nil and value is nil, returns an empty string.
  • If key is nil and value is non-nil, returns value.
  • If key is not found and value is nil or an empty string, returns key.

So, any method whose return value is derived from a nonnull method, can also be annotated as nonnull. Right? Yes, for the most part.

The question of whether a method should return nil vs. whether it may return nil gets very fuzzy around the edges, owing to Objective C’s traditionally very nil-friendly (some might say nil-happy) programming paradigm. Let’s take a core method, one of the most fundamental in all of Objective C, the NSObject init method. Barring an override in any Objective C class, this method will be used to initialize and return a usable instance of any just-allocated class:

- (instancetype) init;

But is it nullable? In practice, NSObject’s root implementation, at least, should never return nil. It’s safer even than -[NSObject alloc], which should also never return nil, but theoretically could if you for example had completely exhausted virtual memory. Want to absolutely convince yourself that -[NSObject init] cannot return nil? Break in the debugger and examine its disassembly:

libobjc.A.dylib`-[NSObject init]:
    0x7fff8909ebf0 <+0>:  pushq  %rbp
    0x7fff8909ebf1 <+1>:  movq   %rsp, %rbp
    0x7fff8909ebf4 <+4>:  movq   %rdi, %rax
    0x7fff8909ebf7 <+7>:  popq   %rbp
    0x7fff8909ebf8 <+8>:  retq   

To summarize the behavior of this simple method, literally all it does, apart from the probably unnecessary stack-manipulating boilerplate, is to move the parameter in register %rdi (the first parameter to objc_msgSend, the object instnace itself) to register %rax (the return value of the method). It’s just “return self”, and self has to be nonnull or else this method wouldn’t have been reached.

Yet if you examine the objc/NSObject.h header file, where -[NSObject init] is declared, you’ll find something curious: it’s not annotated for nullability at all. And although I showed by disassembly above that it is guaranteed 100% to be nonnull, here’s what Apple’s own documentation says:

Return Value
An initialized object, or nil if an object could not be created for some reason that would not result in an exception.

Although this is declared on the documentation for NSObject, it’s no doubt based on the Cocoa convention that any class’s own particular -init method may and in fact should return nil if it cannot be initialized:

In a custom implementation of this method, you must invoke super’s designated initializer then initialize and return the new object. If the new object can’t be initialized, the method should return nil.

NSObject’s init method is one example of many situations in Objective C where nil is an expected return value in edge cases, but where as a general rule, a nonnull value will be returned. This is at huge odds with Swift’s emphasis on variable values being either nonnull or nullable by design.

In recent Xcode releases, Apple has added a useful clang analysis option, off by default, called CLANG_ANALYZER_NONNULL. When enabled, the analyzer goes the extra mile identifying situations where your code contains paths that will violate the spirit of your nonnull annotations. This has been very useful to me in identifying some spots where I missed a nuanced behavior of a method when adding nullability annotations. However, it also identifies a lot of defensive coding techniques that I’m frankly not prepared to abandon. The Objective C, it is strong in my family. Here is an example of a category class method I’ve defined on NSImage (explicit nonnull annotations added for emphasis):

+ (nonnull NSImage*) rsImageWithCGImage:(nonnull CGImageRef)srcImage
{
	NSImage *newImage = nil;
	if (srcImage != NULL)
	{
		NSBitmapImageRep *bitmapImageRep = [[NSBitmapImageRep alloc] initWithCGImage:srcImage];
		if (bitmapImageRep != nil)
		{
			newImage = [[NSImage alloc] init];
			[newImage addRepresentation:bitmapImageRep];
		}
	}

	return newImage;
}

Clang analysis rightly reveals that although I’ve marked this method as having both a nonnull parameter and a nonnull result, the implementation of the method behaves otherwise. But this method is exceedingly unlikely to return nil. The srcImage parameter is marked nonnull, so that first line of defense should always be breached, and the -[NSBitmapImageRep initWithCGImage:] is so likely to return a nonnull value, it is annotated as nonnull (even though the documentation claims it may return nil, Radar #26621826).

I struggle with methods like these: do I mark them optimistically as nonnull, or do I suck it up and concede that they may in fact return nil? Do I remove the defensive checks for nil that I’m so accustomed to, and migrate to the Swift-style assumption that nonnull values will be as they say they will? I clearly have trust issues.

The consequences of vending a null value to a Swift non-optional are dire: the app crashes immediately either unwrapping an implicitly unwrapped optional, or directly accessing a nonnull value. Because of this, I think that in annotating Objective C code for nullability, one must err heavily towards marking return values as nullable, even if such a result is unlikely. How heavily will I err? Will I assume that every -init method may return nil, as indeed Apple has documented? I … well, no. That way lies madness. But wherever I felt compelled to put up overt safeguards in Objective C to handle possible nils from Apple’s frameworks, there is probably still cause for skepticism, even if the method has been marked as nonnull.

The down side of course is that my Swift code will have to jump through mostly unnecessary optional chaining, or other protections, to work safely with what is 99.9% guaranteed to be safe. But in the rare instances where nil is returned, especially when the circumstances that lead to it are out of my control in Apple’s own frameworks, I’d rather my Swift code behave a little bit more like my beloved old Objective C code, and fail gracefully on null.

Principally Unclassy

I had a real head-scratcher of a bug with MarsEdit, manifesting as a subtle failure of specific AppleScript commands to work properly in the release builds of the app. It seemed as though AppleScript were unable to reckon any properties of my app stemming directly from the application object itself.

I was so perplexed that I found myself digging around inside AppleScript’s own internal handling of the command. Setting a breakpoint on -[NSScriptCommand executeCommand], I could trace the evaluation of the request from AppleScript, watching as it ultimately failed to handle the command and returned an error.

It made sense to discover that, in the course of determining how to handle the command, it would consult the application’s “top level object.” That is, the application object itself. I witnessed that AppleScript internally determines the object by calling something like this:

(lldb) po [[NSScriptExecutionContext sharedScriptExecutionContext] topLevelObject]
<NSApplication: 0x618000160600>

Well, that all looks pretty ordinary. Nothing to be alarmed by, right? Luckily, it jumped out at me as all wrong, even though it’s the subtlest of things. The instance returned above is of class NSApplication, which would normally be fine, except that I’ve subclassed NSApplication in my app. It should be of class MEApplication.

Apple doesn’t encourage subclassing NSApplication, but it’s well-documented and appropriate in some circumstances. I happen to implement some of MarsEdit’s high level scripting support in the NSApplication subclass.

I double-checked the target’s Info.plist file. Sure enough the value for NSPrincipalClass is “MEApplication”, so why am I getting an NSApplication instance instead? And why did this suddenly start happening in recent beta test releases of the app?

The answer is that I added an innocuous looking call to -[NSApplication sharedApplication] in MarsEdit’s main.m, before the call to NSApplicationMain. And this code path doesn’t get reached on Debug builds, only on Release ones. Sigh.

It’s in NSApplicationMain that the documented behavior occurs of looking up NSPrincipalClass from the Info.plist, and using that value to call -[WhateverClass sharedApplication]. By calling -[NSApplication sharedApplication] before that, I preemptively force the shared application instance to be of class NSApplication.

So remember, kids: don’t subclass NSApplication. But if you do, then don’t reference -sharedApplication before NSApplicationMain. And if you simply must, then make darned sure you explicitly target your custom subclass by name. For you iOS developers, this wisdom applies to UIApplication, as well!

Nasty. Yeah.

Constraint Activation

I got started with Auto Layout a few years ago, and on the whole I’m very happy with the framework. It can be exceedingly frustrating at times, especially when some nuanced constraint priority or other is imposing a layout that just doesn’t make sense. But I measure its value by the degree to which I shudder in imagining going back to the old springs and struts approach.

Although some interfaces work perfectly with a fixed set of constraints, other interfaces require dynamic manipulation at runtime in order to achieve the desired result. For example, if a change in a preferences panel brings in some new element to the UI, it might make sense to adjust constraints at runtime to accommodate it.

Prior to OS X 10.10 and iOS 8.0, this could be achieved in a general case by removing and adding constraints as needed to the view in question:

  1. Remove constraints and save them somewhere, e.g. in an array, for later.
  2. Add or remove elements to the view.
  3. Add constraints, e.g. by fetching them from a saved array.

It is important to remove constraints and save them before removing an affected element, because removing the element will cause the constraint to be implicitly removed before you can save it.

Starting in OS X 10.10 and iOS 8.0, I was intrigued by the announcement that NSLayoutConstraint now supports a property called “active,” which can be used to, you guessed it, activate or deactivate a constraint. I assumed this would be an answer to my prayers: a constraint could now be left installed on a view for safe-keeping, but its impact on layout would be negated by setting it to be “inactive.” I envisioned setting up competing groups of constraints on a view and simply activating or deactiving them en masse when the need arose.

I assumed wrong.

Looking at the documentation more closely, I see the description of what the method actually does:

Activating or deactivating the constraint calls addConstraint: and removeConstraint: on the view that is the closest common ancestor of the items managed by this constraint. Use this property instead of calling addConstraint: or removeConstraint: directly.

The rub is that an NSLayoutConstraint whose “active” is set to false will be removed from view it is installed on. So if you have any hopes or dreams of reapplying that constraint later, you’ll need to save it somewhere, just as before. If you don’t keep a strong reference to the constraint, it may be deallocated. If you tried to go back and set “active” a constraint that you referenced as a weak IBOutlet, for example, it would be nil by the time you tried to do so.

The OS X 10.10 AppKit Release Notes makes a clearer emphasis on the intended utility of the “active” property:

Under Mac OS X 10.10, it is now possible to directly activate and deactivate NSLayoutConstraint objects, without having to worry about adding them to an appropriate ancestor view. This is accomplished by manipulating NSLayoutConstraint’s new boolean property ‘active’. Class methods are available for operating on multiple constraints simultaneously, which can be much faster. The legacy API on NSView for adding & removing constraints is now deprecated.

So “active” is not a convenience for easily toggling whether an installed layout constraint has an effect or not, but a convenience for the plumbing of installing and removing them. The emphasis on adding and removal API being deprecated especially underscores that.

Having written this all out, it suddenly occurs to me that the “active” flag I was dreaming of is actually sort of available, and has been all along. Because NSLayoutConstraint supports a mutable “priority” property, you can effectively disable it by setting its priority lower than any other constraints that affect the same view. One caveat though is you can’t change a constraint’s priority to or from “required” at runtime, so you have to choose a priority lower than 1000. Something like this should work:

NSLayoutPriority newPriority = activate ? 999 : 1;
[dynamicConstraint setPriority:newPriority];

So long as a set of counterpart constraints affecting similar views is always prioritize to the inverse when toggling state, something like this should work™. Of course, it requires knowing the “active” priority in code. If a given disabled constraint should actually have priority 501 or 250, or whatever, then you’d have to save that priority somewhere. In which case you may as well go back to saving the whole constraint.

Remote Codesign Trust

It’s common to use a remote, headless build server to perform iOS or Mac builds for which the “codesign” tool must be run to sign either the resulting binary, the installer package, or both.

My friend Mitch Cohen raised a concern on our local CocoaHeads that, since 10.11.1 was released, there is a problem with such setups. The dialog that pops up when using a code signing identity for the first time ignores clicks to the “Allow” and “Always Allow” buttons:

Panel prompting to allow permission to use codesign tool with private key.

If you look in the system Console, you see a line along the lines of this, correlated to each attempted click of an “Allow” button:

3/15/16 8:51:55.303 AM SecurityAgent[65532]: Ignoring user action since the dialog has received events from an untrusted source

The changes are apparently rooted in a legitimate security update made by Apple, but the end result for us developers is pretty bleak. It’s seemingly impossible to authorize use of a code signing identity on a remote server. As my friend Mitch put it, he has to call IT and “get someone to go into the data closet” every time this happens. What a drag!

I’m also affected by this issue, since I use a headless Mac Mini as a build server. Lucky for me the server is in my house, but it’s still a drag to have to go log in and control the computer with an attached keyboard.

I poked around for a solution to this problem, and found it lurking in the answers and comments of a Stack Overflow question. The basic idea is you can convince OS X to trust codesign to use the tool, just as if you had clicked the “Allow” button in that UI prompt. Here is a recipe for doing just that, logged in as a remote user over say Screen Sharing:

  1. Open Keychain Access and locate the pertinent private key. You may have to click on the “Certificates” section and then type in part of the name of the identity in question, e.g. “iPhone Distribution”:

    Screenshot of Keychain Access showing the private key

  2. Click the private key and then select File -> Export Items from the menu bar. Save the item anywhere on your server, for example the Desktop. Give it a password e.g. “hardpassword”.
  3. Now stop. Think real hard before you continue. You should have a backup of that private key somewhere. If you don’t? Don’t continue. Did you just make a backup to the Desktop? Yes, in theory. But if these are the only two copies of this private key you need to think long and hard before you continue with the next step, which I absolutely do not advise you to do.
  4. Delete the private key from your keychain. This is the scary (see above), but necessary step to get the Keychain to respect the new permissions you’re going to grant the key in a minute.
  5. Switch to the Terminal and issue a command like the following:
    security import ~/Desktop/Certificates.p12 -k ~/Library/Keychains/login.keychain -P hardpassword -t priv -T /usr/bin/codesign -T /Applications/Utilities/Keychain\ Access.app
    

    It may be important to specify the path to the specific keychain, and to belabor the point you’re importing a private key with the “-t priv” parameter. It seemed like maybe things weren’t working for me until I deigned to include these. In any case, the goal here after running this command is that the private key shown in the screenshot above should now be back in your keychain, but if you double-click it to examine its permissions, you’ll find that codesign is listed among the approved apps. If you need to provide access to other tools than codesign, list them as shown above with multiple -T parameters to the “security import” command.

In my tests that seems to address the issue. After following the recipe above carefully, I can remotely “codesign” with the specified identity to my heart’s content, without a UI prompt of any kind.

It strikes me that this trick probably shouldn’t work, at least in light of Apple’s clamping down on the ability to change authorizations through the UI of Keychain Access. So I won’t be surprised if this series of tricks doesn’t stand the test of time. For now though? No need to call IT and have them go into the data closet.

Update: Erik Schwiebert reports that Apple has addressed this problem in 10.11.4 betas:

That’s great news!

Unsteady Platform

I ran into a vexing build failure with one of my iOS integration builds. The vast majority of everything in my complex project, consisting of dozens of dependencies, has built fine, but at link time things blow up because one of the dependencies is not of the expected architecture.

Undefined symbols for architecture armv7:
"_RSIsEmpty", referenced from:
-[RSFormattingMacro emptyMarkupPlaceholders] in RSFormattingMacro.o
ld: symbol(s) not found for architecture armv7

Ugh, huh, wha? How is this happening? It turns out the library in which “RSIsEmpty” resides, RSFoundation, is being linked to, but it’s opting for an OS X version of the library instead of an iOS one. Because this is an integration build that performs a number of related builds for both Mac and iOS, it makes some sense that I would have both an iOS and OS X build result in the build folder. But even if I have built copies for either architecture, why is it opting for the OS X version on an iOS build?

I decided to blow away all the built versions of RSFoundation and try the build again. This time, I got an even more perplexing failure:

clang: error: no such file or directory: '[...]/build-Integration/Release/RSFoundation.framework/RSFoundation'

I’m scratching my head. Did it somehow get removed as a dependency? But then I notice something subtle. It’s looking for the framework in the “Release” build folder, but for my iOS build it should be looking in “Release-iphoneos”. What the heck is going on?

In spite of the sole build target in this scheme being an iOS app, Xcode (actually xcodebuild) is opting to build this scheme with a default destination of OS X. I don’t know of a direct way to get xcodebuild to list the available destinations for a scheme, but I know that if you pass a bogus destination platform, it will do the honor of listing its impressions:

xcodebuild -destination "platform=xx" -scheme MyIPhoneApp

The requested device could not be found because no platform could be found for the requested platform name.

Available destinations for the "MyIPhoneApp" scheme:
		{ platform:OS X, arch:x86_64 }
		{ platform:iOS Simulator, id:6DF04FFC-1C8A-4745-8F8C-7369E9CBF8DB, OS:9.3, name:iPad 2 }
		[... every other iOS simulator on my Mac ...]

Aha! So it thinks my iPhone app is suitable for OS X. But why? After a great deal of experimentation and poking around, I discovered the root of the problem is summarized by this true statement:

If any target in a Scheme’s dependency tree targets OS X, then the scheme itself will also be considered to target OS X.

In retrospect, this explains the problem perfectly. I had recently added a subproject to my dependency tree that builds both an iOS and a Mac version of a library. That’s fine: it works pretty well these days to allow targets for differing platforms to coexist in the same project file. But each of these targets also shares a dependency on a single, legitimate OS X target: a helper tool used in the process of generating that project’s own source files.

This must be at least a relatively common scenario for iOS builds of certain complexity. Because the platform on which all iOS builds run is OS X, any helper tools that are compiled and used in the process of generating sources or otherwise processing build materials, must be built for OS X.

The workaround to my specific problem is to specify a platform explicitly on the command line. I can’t assume that because the scheme targets iOS, it will necessarily default to an iOS platform target. I consider this a bug, not only because it led to this difficult to diagnose build error, but because it has other ramifications such as the presentation in Xcode’s scheme popup for these projects a useless, distracting “My Mac” target which should never be selected for the schemes in question.

I filed this as Radar #24247701: A scheme whose target has dependencies on another platform shouldn’t “support” that platform.

Right Storyboard, Wrong Platform

If, in haste, you inadvertently add a storyboard file to your Mac or iOS project from the wrong platform palette, you’ll end up with a storyboard that compiles and installs into the app bundle, but which products cryptic errors upon building and running. For example, a Mac storyboard lost in an iOS world:

*** Assertion failure in -[UIStoryboard initWithBundle:storyboardFileName:identifierToNibNameMap:designatedEntryPointIdentifier:], /SourceCache/UIKit_Sim/UIKit-3347.44.1/UIStoryboard.m:52

*** Terminating app due to uncaught exception 'NSInternalInconsistencyException', reason: 'Invalid parameter not satisfying: nibNameMap != nil'

The assertion above occurs when, internally to UIStoryboard, the Info.plist for your compiled “.storyboardc” file is consulted to determine its constituent “.nib” files. In the Mac case, the keys for storyboard Info.plist entries have an “NS” prefix, e.g. NSViewControllerIdentifiersToNibNames, whereas on iOS, it goes hunting for a UI-prefixed key: UIViewControllerIdentifiersToNibNames.

Granted, as soon as you proceeded to the next step, trying to populate the storyboard with UI elements that make sense for the platform, you would probably figure out your mistake. But if you’re just trying to get the ball rolling and end up immediately scratching your head over the failure, hopefully this blog post will have helped you figure out more quickly what was wrong.

I don’t think there’s any official way to change a created storyboard’s platform target. Best bet if you run into this is to delete the storyboard and recreate it from scratch, taking care to select the file template from the appropriate platform in Xcode’s “New File” panel.

Xcode Consolation

One of the best things any Mac or iOS developer can do to improve their craft is to simply watch another developer at work in Xcode. Regardless of the number of years or the diversity of projects that make up your experience with the tool, you will undoubtedly notice a neat trick here or there that changes everything about the way you work.

If you were sitting in my office on a typical workday, looking over my shoulder, that would be a little creepy. But one thing you’d notice that differentiates me from many others is the amount of time I spend typing into the Xcode debugger console.

In my experience, other developers fall into three groups when I mention that I use the console almost exclusively when interacting with the debugger:

  1. Those who share this approach. We exchange high-fives and move on.
  2. Those who appreciate the console for occasional tricks, but rely mostly on the variables view.
  3. Those who have never heard of or noticed the console.

Let’s assume for the sake of argument that you fall into group 3. You can show the console while debugging any process by selecting View -> Debug Area -> Activate Console from the menu bar. In fact, I do this so often that that the keyboard shortcut, Cmd-Shift-C, is completely second-nature to me.

Xcode window with console highlighted.

In fact I find the console so useful that it’s not unusual for me to hide much of the other junk, so I can have a mainline connection to the debugger.

Xcode window with large console area

So let’s go back again to the uncomfortable assumption that you’re sitting in my office, looking over my shoulder. What would you see me do in the console? All manner of things: For one thing I rarely click those visual buttons for stepping through code. Instead, I use these terse keyboard aliases, inherited from the bad old Gdb days. In lldb, these all come as standard abbreviations of more verbosely named commands:

  • n – step over the next line of source
  • s – step into the first line of source of a function
  • ni – step over the next instruction of assembly code
  • si – step into the first instruction of a function
  • c – continue
  • fin – continue until return from current stack frame

Those are the basics, but another trick, I believe it was called ret in Gdb, comes in handy often:

  • thread return – return immediately from the current stack frame

You could use this if you are stuck in some function that is crashed, for example, but you know that returning to the caller would allow the process to continue running as normal. Or, you could use it to completely circumvent a path of code by breaking on a function and bolting right out, optionally overriding the return value. Just to pick an absurd example with flair, let’s stub out AppKit’s +[NSColor controlTextColor]:

(lldb) b +[NSColor controlTextColor]
Breakpoint 1: where = AppKit`+[NSColor controlTextColor], address = 0x00007fff8fb05572
(lldb) break command add
Enter your debugger command(s).  Type 'DONE' to end.
> thread ret [NSColor redColor]
> c
> DONE
(lldb) c

Here we have opted to break on every single call to controlTextColor, returning to the caller with a fraudulent color that is apparently not consulted by the label for this popup menu in MarsEdit:

MarsEdit screenshot with labels drawn in red

In fact, mucking about with system symbols is one of the great tricks of the console, and lldb’s built-in “breakpoint” command brings with it superpowers that can’t be touched by Xcode’s dumbed down GUI-based controls. For example, what if we wanted to set a breakpoint that would catch not only +controlTextColor, but any similar variation? Using lldb’s support for regular expression breakpoints, it’s a snap:

(lldb) break set -r control.*Color -s AppKit
Breakpoint 1: 20 locations.

Here we request that a breakpoint be set for any symbol in the AppKit framework that contains the lower-cased “control,” followed by anything, then capitalized “Color.” And lldb just set 20 breakpoints at once. To see them all, just type “breakpoint list” and you’ll see all the variations listed out as sub-breakpoints:

(lldb) break list
Current breakpoints:
1: regex = 'control.*Color', locations = 20, resolved = 20, hit count = 0
  1.1: where = AppKit`+[NSColor controlTextColor], address = 0x00007fff8fb05572, resolved, hit count = 0 
  1.2: where = AppKit`+[NSDynamicSystemColor controlTextColor], address = 0x00007fff8fb05670, resolved, hit count = 0 
  1.3: where = AppKit`+[NSColor controlBackgroundColor], address = 0x00007fff8fb1465d, resolved, hit count = 0 
  1.4: where = AppKit`+[NSDynamicSystemColor controlBackgroundColor], address = 0x00007fff8fb1475d, resolved, hit count = 0 
  (etc...)

One major shortcoming of all this goodness is Xcode has a mind of its own when it comes to which breakpoints are set on a given target. Anything you add from the lldb prompt will not register as a breakpoint in Xcode’s list, so you’ll have to continue to manipulate it through the console. You can enable or disable breakpoints precisely by specifying both the breakpoint number and its, umm, sub-number? For example to disable the breakpoint on +[NSColor controlBackgroundColor] above, just type “break disable 1.3”.

Regular expressions can be very handy for setting breakpoint precisely on a subset of related methods, but they can also be very useful for casting about widely in the vain pursuit of a clue. For example, when I’m boggled by some behavior in my app, and suspect it has to do with some system-provided API, or even an internal framework method, I’ll just throw some verbs that seem related at a breakpoint, and see what I land on. For example, it seems like some delegate, somewhere should be imposing this behavior:

(lldb) break set -r should.*:
Breakpoint 5: 735 locations.

That’s right, set a breakpoint for any ObjC method that includes the conventional “shouldBlahBlahBlah:” form in its selector name. Or if you are really at your wit’s end about an event related issue, why not capture the whole lot and see where you stand?

(lldb) break set -r [eE]vent
Breakpoint 10: 9520 locations.

Sometimes I’ll set a breakpoint like this and immediately continue, to see what I land on, but often I’ll use lldb’s breakpoint system as a quick way of searching the universe of symbol names. After setting a breakpoint like the one above, I’ll do a “break list” and then search through the results for other substrings I’m interested in. This often gives me a clue about the existence of methods or functions that are pertinent to the problem at hand.

I’ve scratched the surface here of all the powerful things you can use Xcode’s debugger console for, but I hope it has brought you some increased knowledge about the tools at your disposal. If you’ve never used the console before, or only use it occasionally, perhaps I’ve pushed you a bit farther down the path of having its Cmd-Shift-C shortcut feel like second-nature to you as well.

Share Extension Iterations

One of the many big surprises at WWDC this year was the news that iOS 8 and Mac OS X 10.10 would support app extensions, which give developers a variety of new ways in which data and services can be shared between apps.

One of these new types of extension, called a Share extension, essentially allows apps that generate user data provide content to apps that publish user data. As a developer whose main app, MarsEdit, is a blog-publishing tool for the Mac, you can imagine how this might be of interest to me.

The first thing I noticed upon digging into app extension development is that it’s fairly fiddly to get set up, and the default build, run, invoke iteration loop is fraught with administrative overhead.

First of all, when you add a Share extension target to an existing project, you’ll discover that the new target can’t be run directly. To test or debug it, you have to invoke the Share extension from some app that supports … sharing. There are many default apps on the Mac and iOS that support sharing data of various formats. For example on Mac OS X the system Preview app makes a canonical sharing source for photo data, while the Notes app is one of many suitable test apps for sharing text. If you don’t do anything special after adding a Share extension target to your project, the auto-generated Xcode scheme will be configured to ask every time you run:

ChooseAnApp

This will get old fast, and 99% of the time what you’ll want to run is exactly the same dang app you just ran. Luckily, this is easily addressed in the scheme settings, where you can change the “Executable” selection in the “Info” section of the “Run” tab from “Ask on Launch” to a specific application of your choosing.

OtherApp

That’s all well and good, but you still have to go through the tedious task of selecting some suitable content in the target app, clicking the share button, and choosing your extension from the list, before you even have the luxury of examining your own code’s behavior.

Wouldn’t it be great if you could make changes to your app extension’s appearance or behavior, click Run, and moments later be looking at your Share extension’s UI without having to do anything else? Good news: you can, and I’m about to explain how to achieve it for both Mac and iOS targets.

Automatic Invocation

The problem with all the targets on your Mac or iOS that may or may not support sharing pertinent data to your extension, is you have to walk them through the process of invoking you. When you’re deep into the development of a particular aspect of the user interface or mechanical behavior of your extension, what you really want is to repeatedly invoke the extension with the same, predictable kinds of data. Luckily, it’s possible on both Mac and iOS platforms for a host app to invoke sharing extensions programmatically, so you just need to choose a Run target that will predictably invoke your extension upon launching.

The only way I know to guarantee this is to write your own code that invokes the extension, and put it in a custom debugging-purposed target, or else put it into your main app as conditional code that only runs when building Debug variants and when prompted to take effect. I can imagine a sophisticated version of this approach involving a multi-faceted extension-debugging target that would be capable of fast-tracking extension invocation for a variety of data formats. But for the simplest solution, I recommend adding the ability to invoke your extension to the very app that hosts it. Then your simple test mode behavior will always coexist in the same source base as your extension code.

The way I approached this was to add an environment variable, “RSDebugAppExtension” to the scheme configuration for my app extension, which is also configured now to target the main app as its Executable target. So when I build and run the app extension scheme, may main app runs with these environment variables set:

Screenshot 11 24 14 3 12 PM

Now in the main app’s applicationDidFinishLaunching: method, I just have to add the appropriate code for invoking the app extension’s UI. Without the platform-specific voodoo, it looks something like this:

#if DEBUG
	// Check for flag to invoke app extension
	NSDictionary* env = [[NSProcessInfo processInfo] environment];
	NSString* appExtensionDebug = [env objectForKey:@"RSDebugAppExtension"];
	if (appExtensionDebug != nil)
	{
		// RUN MY EXTENSION
	}
#endif

The #if DEBUG just ensures that I will never inadvertenly ship this code in a release version of my app. The environment variable ensures I won’t be plagued by my extension’s UI appearing whenever I’m working on other aspects of my app besides the extension.

Now we just have to dig into the specifics of how to “RUN MY EXTENSION.” I’ll show you how that works for both Mac and iOS based Share extensions.

Invoking a Mac-based Share Extension

If you’re working on a Mac-based Share extension, the key to invoking it at runtime is to enlist the help of the NSSharingService infrastructure. You simply ask it for a service with your identifier, and ask it to “perform.”

NSString* serviceName = @"com.red-sweater.yeehaw";
NSSharingService* myService = [NSSharingService sharingServiceNamed:serviceName];
[myService performWithItems:@[@"Hello world"]];

Now when I build and run with the aforementioned environment variable set up, it pops up my Share extension, pre-populated with the text “Hello world.”

Invoking an iOS-based Share Extension

Unfortunately, iOS doesn’t support the same NSSharingService infrastructure that the Mac has. This seems like an area where we might be lucky to see more unification over the years, but for the time being the iOS notion of a sharing service is tied up with the existing “Social.framework” and its SLComposeViewController class. This is the interface that is supposed to be used to invoke a sharing panel for Facebook, Twitter, Tencent Weibo, etc. And luckily, although I don’t believe it’s documented, you can also pass in the extension identifier for your custom Share extension to instantiate a suitable view controller for hosting your extension:

NSString* serviceName = @"com.red-sweater.yeehaw";
SLComposeViewController* myController = [SLComposeViewController composeViewControllerForServiceType:serviceName];
[myController setInitialText:@"Hello World"];
[[self navigationController] presentViewController:myController animated:YES completion:nil];

You can see the basic gist of it is similar to the Mac, but you have to configure the view controller directly as opposed to providing a list of arbitrary input values. Also bear in mind that because the iOS-based solution above relies upon [self navigationController] being non-nil, you’ll need to add the special debugging code at a point in your app’s launch process when this is already set up, or else find another way of ensuring you can meaningfully present view controllers to your app’s main window.

Going Further

Notice that I hinge all the invocation on simply whether the RSDebugAppExtension environment variable is non-nil. Basically while I’m debugging I have to go in and change the code in applicationDidFinishLaunching to invoke the extension in the way I want. This works OK for me at least at this stage, but I can imagine down the road wanting to be able to fine-tune the behavior of how the extension is invoked. For this purpose, why not encode into the value of the environment variable itself certain clues about how to invoke the extension? It could specify for example what text should be passed the extension, or other configuration as desired.

My intent in sharing this blog post is both to point out some potentially time-saving tricks that will help those of you developing Share app extensions, but also to encourage you to look for creative ways to cut out the tedious aspects of whatever you work on. When all is said and done, the few monotonous steps during each iteration of work on a Share extension probably don’t add up to all that much in sheer time, but they take a lot of the joy and immediacy out of development, which frankly puts me in a bad mood. Clicking Run and seeing my work, including my latest changes, pop up instantly on the screen makes me feel a lot happier about my job.

Bridging iOS WebViews

I hinted in my previous post that similar techniques could be used to bridge JavaScript to Objective-C on iOS, but that it would require using undocumented methods. As with the Mac-based solution, it’s not such a big deal so long as you’re only going to use it for private, debugging builds of your app. So how can it be done?

WebKit on iOS is for the most part famously, frustratingly hidden from developer use. As apps like Safari show, there is an extensive, powerful WebKit framework just as there is on the Mac, but iOS developers are limited to the comparatively impotent UIWebView.

But here’s a hint: UIWebView is itself a client of “proper WebKit,” and thus implements many of the powerful delegate methods that you would implement as the Mac delegate of a WebView. So if I were an iOS developer and wanted to play around with bridging WebView to Objective-C, I would simply subclass UIWebView, and override the delegate methods methods I am interested in:

#if DEBUG
@interface UIWebView (PrivateMethods)
- (void)webView:(UIWebView*)webView
      didClearWindowObject:(id)windowObject
      forFrame:(id)frame;
@end

@interface MyWebView : UIWebView
@end

@implementation MyWebView

// Override methods on UIWebView that it itself employs
// as delegate of a "proper" WebKit WebView object
- (void)webView:(UIWebView*)webView
      didClearWindowObject:(id)windowObject
      forFrame:(id)frame
{
   [super webView:webView didClearWindowObject:windowObject forFrame:frame];

   id myDelegate = [[UIApplication sharedApplication] delegate];
   [windowObject setValue:myDelegate forKey:@"appDelegate"];
}

@end

#endif

Set your WebView to use the custom class “MyWebView”, and now your iOS-based WebView can pass whatever information it needs to directly to your delegate, just as I illustrated for the Mac version.

JavaScript Bug Traps

I am the kind of developer who leans heavily on automated systems for the improvement of my code. For this reason I tend to enable the maximum number of warnings, rely upon static analysis to discover nuanced bugs, develop and run unit tests to automatically confirm expected behaviors, and I encourage my apps to crash hard if they are going to crash at all.

I would characterize all of these behaviors as part of an overall attitude of vigilance against software defects. Learning about problems in code quickly and clearly is a key step maintaining an overall high level of code quality.

Most of my software is developed in Objective-C, which enables me to leverage compile-time and run-time tools from Apple that catch my errors quickly. Between compile-time warnings and errors, and runtime exceptions and crashes, the vast majority of my programming errors in Objective-C are caught within minutes of writing them.

On the other hand, MarsEdit features a rich HTML text editor largely implemented in JavaScript, a language which tends not to afford any of these convenient alerts to my mistakes. I have often stared in bewilderment at the editor window’s perplexing behavior, only to discover after many lost minutes or hours, that some subtle JavaScript error has been preventing the expected behavior of my code. I’ll switch to the WebKit inspector for the affected WebView, and discover the console is littered with red: errors being dutifully logged by the JavaScript runtime, but ignored by everybody.

Wouldn’t it be great if the JavaScript code crashed as hard as the Objective-C code does?

In fact, these days mine does. By a combination of JavaScript hooks that are alerted to the errors, Objective-C bridges that propagate them to the host app, and the judicious use of undocumented WebKit Inspector methods, development versions of my WebView-based apps now automatically present an inspector window the moment any error occurs in the view’s underlying JavaScript code.

For those of you who also develop JavaScript-heavy WebKit apps, I’ll share the steps for enabling this same type of behavior in your app. These steps all apply to Mac-based WebViews, but most of the same techniques could be used with iOS if you are willing to use some private methods to establish a bridge between the WebView and host app (for debug builds only, of course).

Step 1: Catch the error in JavaScript.

In whatever the main source content is for your WebView-based user interface, add some script code to register a callback for JavaScript errors:

<script type="text/javascript">
   function gotJavaScriptError(errorEvent)
   {
      console.log("Error: " + errorEvent.message);
   }

   window.addEventListener("error", gotJavaScriptError,  false);
</script>

Now if you encounter some error and happen to be attached with the web inspector, you’ll see additional confirmation that the error has in fact been noticed. if you’re following along in your own code while you read, I strongly encourage you to add a testing mechanism for generating errors. A simple “click” event callback (or “touchstart” on iOS) does the trick well:

<script type="text/javascript">
   function gotClick(theEvent)
   {
      blargh
   }

   window.addEventListener("click", gotClick, false);
</script>

Now when you click, you blargh. And when you blargh, the error is logged. Of course, just logging the error isn’t very useful because it’s quiet and goes ignored. Just like JavaScript errors usually do…

Step 2: Propagate the error to the host app.

You could do some interesting stuff in the WebView itself. For example you might convert the error into a string and display a prominent alert message. But since there’s so much more you can do once the host app is in charge, it’s worth going the extra mile for that functionality.

To tie the host app to the WebView we need to wait for the WebView’s frame to finish preparing its “window script object,” and then set a named attribute on that object that refers to an Objective-C instance. See that your WebView has a frameLoadDelegate configured, and within that delegate object implement this method:

- (void)webView:(WebView *)webView 
        didClearWindowObject:(WebScriptObject *)windowObject
        forFrame:(WebFrame *)frame
{
   // Expose ourselves as a JavaScript window attribute
   [[webView windowScriptObject] setValue:self forKey:@"appDelegate"];
}

At this point any JavaScript code, including our error-handling callback, can reference the Objective-C delegate directly. But in order to make good use of the delegate we’ll have to add a couple other methods. The first lets the WebKit runtime know that we are not fussy about which of our methods are accessible to the WebView:

+ (BOOL) isSelectorExcludedFromWebScript:(SEL)aSelector
{
   return NO;
}

Now JavaScript code within the WebView can call any method it chooses on the delegate object. Implement something suitable for catching the news of the JavaScript error:

- (void) javaScriptErrorOccurred:(WebScriptObject*)errorEvent
{
   NSLog(@"WARNING JavaScript error: %@", errorEvent);
}

And back in your WebView HTML source file, amend the JavaScript error handler to call through to Objective-C instead of pointlessly logging to the JavaScript console:

<script type="text/javascript">
   function gotJavaScriptError(errorEvent)
   {
      console.log("Error: " + errorEvent.message);
      window.appDelegate.javaScriptErrorOccurred_(errorEvent);
   }

   ...
</script>

Notice that the colons in Objective-C method names are simply replaced with underscores to make them compatible with the JavaScript function naming rules. The errorEvent argument in this case is translated to a DOMEvent object instance in Objective-C, where it can be further interrogated. Alternatively you could pull the parts of the event you want out in JavaScript, and pass along only those bits.

Now we’ve done a considerable amount of work, only to upgrade our easy to ignore JavaScript errors from littering the web console to littering the system console. At least we’d notice these errors in the Xcode debugger console, and might eventually get around to taking a closer look. But we can still do much better.

Step 3: Get face to face with the error.

Of course from Objective-C there are any manner of ways you could handle the error. In a shipping app it might make sense to prompt the user with news of the issue and offer, much like a crash reporter would, to send information about the error to you. Or if the contents and behavior of your WebView are critical enough, maybe it’s worth forcing the app to quit just as it would for a native code crash. But for debugging builds I’ve find it very helpful simply to have the error force the Web Inspector open so I am no longer able to quietly ignore all the red console logging. In the delegate class, go back to the javaScriptErrorOccurred: method and replace the NSLog call with this string of fancy mumbo-jumbo

- (void) javaScriptErrorOccurred:(id)errorEvent
{
#if DEBUG
   id inspector = [[self webView] performSelector:@selector(inspector)];
   [inspector performSelector:@selector(showConsole:) withObject:nil];
#endif
}

That’s it. Now when you run into a WebView-based JavaScript error, the web inspector appears and the list of pertinent errors is front-and-center.

I encourage you to leave the DEBUG barrier in place, because as the prolific use of “performSelector” may suggest, these are private WebKit methods that would probably not be viewed as acceptable by e.g. App Store reviewers. Anyway, you probably don’t want customers being pushed into the Web Inspector.

I hope this technique proves useful for those of you with extensive JavaScript source bases of your own. For everybody else, perhaps I’ve helped to drive home the idea that we should be as vigilant as possible against software defects. All developers write bugs, all the time. It’s only fair that we try to balance the scales and give ourselves a fighting chance by also being alerted to the bugs we write, all the time.