I was checking upgrades over the weekend (part of my daily routine, in fact). I found myself having to search for a specific version of a favorite app. Why? Because the developer erected upgrade walls around free versions of the app. It’s just a “little reminder,” I guess, that users should support developers by paying for what they use.

Why Put Upgrade Walls Around Free Versions?

Basically, the developer steered its “manual update” capability into the purchase dialog for the same program’s for-a-fee version. I have the paid-for version on my production PC, in fact. But I don’t pay for the instances I run on my test PCs (which vastly outnumber my home desktop and traveling “work laptop” — by 5 to 1). It just ticks me off when the developer leads users down a road with no obvious access to downloading the free version through the application’s own built-in update facility. Am I wrong to feel that way?

I don’t think so. But in this case, I had to remember that the name of the free version includes “lite” in its name (cute). Then, I had to Google the name of the application with that string in its name to get to the right download page. Not too challenging, but at least mildly vexatious, IMO.

The Pecuniary Imperative

Sure, developers need income to justify their time and effort spent in creating and maintaining their offerings. But do users need to be reminded that they could pay for the for-a-fee version each time they update (or upgrade) its free counterpart? Depends on who you ask: some developers obviously feel that the answer to that question is “Hell, yeah!” As for me, I just find it somewhat annoying.

Sigh. That’s just the way things go in Windows-World sometimes. Thanks for letting me vent…

OK then, I’m back in the office after a 10-day hiatus. Natch, after meeting today’s writing deadlines, I started updating all 11 of my Windows PCs. Along the way, I found myself caught up in Intel DSA version confusion for that company’s Driver & Support Assistant software.

Look at the lead-in screencap. The Intel download page shows version 23.2.17.8 is the latest and greatest version. Yet the details for the download file show it as version 23.1.9.7. And indeed, when you install or repair DSA using the file the lower-numbered version is what’s installed. Go figure!

Overcoming Intel DSA Version Confusion

After handling over 100 updates, the Patch Tuesday and incidental WU stuff, I didn’t want to find myself troubleshooting a bogus update problem. But that’s what I’ve got going on. Until Intel puts the update for version 23.2.17.8 in the “Latest” position on its download center, there’s not much I can do to fix this.

C’mon Intel: please fix this issue so OCD updaters — like yours truly — can get caught up. I’ve already got 23.1.9.7 (the version that actually appears in the Properties window for the 23.2.17.8 download) installed. I can’t catch up until the right file gets posted to the download center.

It’s Always Something, Right?

Just goes to show you that here in Windows-World there’s always some kind of gotcha lurking to make life more interesting. In some cases, my issues are of my own making. In this particular case, it looks like something odd is up with the Intel download page itself.

Just for grins, I went to an alternate download source. Much to my surprise, that installer shows the correct version number for this file, to wit:

An “alternate download source” DOES have the right file.
Go figure again!

I wish I knew how the other source got the right file, when I couldn’t grab it myself directly. As Mr. Churchill said of Russia, that makes this “a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.” I don’t know whether to laugh, or cry.

There’s a famous line in Tennessee Williams well-known play, A Streetcar Named Desire. It comes from trashy, tragic Blanche DuBois. It reads “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” I hope I’m not over-reaching in finding a connection between Blanche and Microsoft’s built-in package manager Winget. Why do I say that Winget suffers Blanche DuBois effect? Because third-party developers must provide package definitions so Winget can handle their updates. Some do, some don’t is my experience on this front.

Overcoming Winget Suffers Blanche DuBois Effect

I turn to other tools to help me catch what happens when the “Blanche DuBois Effect” fails — namely, when a developer or owner does not supply Winget with the necessary package definitions. You can see what I mean by this in the figure below. (Click on it to expand to full-sized view to read what it says for yourself.)

Note that Winget sees 4 items in need of update; SUMo sees 7 or 8.

For the record, Winget sees about half of what KC Software’s Software Update Monitor (aka SUMo) does, to wit:

For accuracy, Winget sees one thing that SUMo does not — namely, Visual Studio Enterprise 2022 (abbreviated as VSEnt22 above). OTOH, SUMo sees 5 (or 6) things that Winget does not — specifically, Firefox, CPU-Z (a false positive, in fact), MS Edge, Snagit, and WizTree (in both 64- and 32-bit versions). That’s why I use other application update tools to help me keep up on the ten-plus PCs in residence here at Chez Tittel.

Winget Supplements of Choice Are…

My tools of choice to cover what Winget misses are:

1. Software Update Monitor (aka SUMo) from KC Softwares
2. PatchMyPC from PatchMyPC.com

Why two? Because PatchMyPC sees fewer things than SUMo does. But what the freeware version of PatchMyPC sees, it also updates automatically and easily. The free version of SUMo sees more, but only the paid version tries to update those things for you (and its track record is far enough from stellar on performing updates that I’m not sure it’s worth the US$25-30 you’ll be asked to pay for it).

I’ve learned to use SUMo solely for detection, then I let PatchMyPC handle for me what it can. I do the rest myself manually.

Frankly, though, I think MS should put some of its much-vaunted AI capability to work so that Winget can generate packages for third-party applications on its own with no need to, as Blanch DuBois once did, rely on the kindness of strangers.