Posts in Ai (20 found)

Workshop Basel day two

If you missed it. I already described day one . Caffeinated and ready, we all gathered in the same spacious room as yesterday, but seated in new places as “suggested” by our captain. Some of us even remembered to move over the name tags we wrote yesterday to our new seats. No time was wasted on introductions today. We dove straight in at the deep end. Is the future of software that we check-in the AI prompts in the git repository and trust it to generate the correct code? Are specifications the new level o f abstraction for source code? These questions triggered long discussions with a huge mix of opinions and experiences getting shared about how AI is used, should be used and could be used now and in the future. The Common Crawl spidering upgraded to using HTTP/2 for their scan and as an end result, I believe 61% of the responses used HTTP/2 and the entire round ended a few percent faster than before, which when you traverse a few billion URLs really makes a difference. They apparently use a locally patched version of Apache Nutch for this. The HTTP probe project runs a lot of tests on HTTP/1 servers and compares how they behave in a lot of different aspects and then generates these awesome tables. Looks like something for every server implementer team to have a look at and decide what of these red boxes that should rather be converted into green alternatives. HTTP Zoll is a new test suite for intermediaries that tests intermediaries (what we often call proxies) for a large amount of request and response smuggling issues. Some real world problems found were discussed and as this project aims at going Open Source words were expressed on what kind of precautions and checks that maybe should be done first. I hope we get to hear more about this project soon. The HTTP Arena is another project that does performance and measurements. They test HTTP server frameworks and present the results in various ways on their site. In this presentation , we were presented with different HTTP/3 deployment numbers from different sources and the associated reasoning around why they differ but then more importantly. what can and should be done to increase HTTP/3 usage.  Anti-virus interceptions, enterprise blocks and server-side performance not yet on par with TCP were mentioned as reasons for holding back the numbers. Reasons for using HTTP/3 include use cases that encourage QUIC adoption: WebTransport, Media over QUIC and MASQUE (HTTP/3 proxies and HTTP/3 proxies over older HTTP proxies).  Using HTTPS-RR for upgrade was promoted , as every alt-svc response that is returned with an ALPN using h3 should perhaps also offer h3 over DNS. Why doesn’t your server announce its h3 support over HTTPS-RR? QUIC v2 is deployed on an amazing 0.003% of all QUIC v1 domains and there was a discussion why this is so and the common sentiment in the room seemed to be that very few saw a reason for deploying v2 and several expressed a concern that doing so might in fact introduce issues. Someone (you can probably guess who) in the room increased that number a lot by quietly mentioning that haxproxy.org certainly supports it. QUIC multiplexing over bi-directional streams is a proposal on how to do QUIC-style multiplexing over TLS (or anything else really). It has been adopted by the IETF QUIC working group and there was a somewhat extended discussion about what the HTTPbis group should or should not do with it. The biggest interest might be for data center use, but is that then something IETF should bother about? This is not the first time I blog about this, and even if there did not seem to be a strong demand or need for this, it also did not seem to be completely dead. I bet we will hear more about this later. Doing a TLS terminating MITM proxy has its challenges and we were given some insights and experiences on the challenges of doing HTTP/2 and HTTP/3 to the server. The browsers refuse to do HTTP/3 when they detect custom CA certs installed, which apparently is mostly because of lots of past bad experiences with anti-virus software that in particular seems to break QUIC and for users it is not obvious where the blame should go. This then makes browsers not do HTTP/3 over any MITM proxy. Some time was spent on how allowing different clients to the proxy uses a shared h2 connection to the target server is complicated and not used, even though in theory it should be possible. An argument was made that it could even lead to worse performance than when using HTTP/1 but I could not quite follow that reasoning. I’m sure I missed some subtle detail in that explanation. When the afternoon is running late and we have been promised beer and snacks after the final talk, what is better than a hard core technical presentation with lots of graphs and numbers showing how QUIC performance can be improved by tweaking the congestion control algorithm and send more data in the startup phase of a new QUIC connections? This new approach is called Rapid Start and it looks like a promising and yet simple improvement. According to experiments done on real world traffic, the time to last byte was reduced by 14.7% on average. Not bad at all. Our meeting sponsor Adobe graciously sponsored drinks and food so we got to linger around for a few extra hours and talk even more HTTP and networking until the personal firmly insistent they needed us to leave the room and we instead continued solving world problems elsewhere. Topics around the table included the famous HTTP/2 spec coin flip, the QUIC spin bit, the SCONE situation for QUIC, the timeline behind the QUERY method and many more great stories. Thanks for the beer! Now we can’t wait for day three.

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The OpenAI Bubble

Thanks for reading this week’s free Where’s Your Ed At newsletter. As I said last week, I’m taking the rest of this week off, so there won’t be a premium on Friday. That said, if you aren’t already a member, now’s a great time to subscribe.  To celebrate the one year anniversary of the premium newsletter, I’m offering a sale on one-year subscriptions. Between now and midnight July 22, you can get a permanent annual rate of just $60— a $10 discount on the usual price of $70 - for life. Click here for the offer . In addition to getting access to the entire back catalog of premium posts, you’ll also receive one additional post each week — usually anywhere between 10,000 and 20,000 words — covering the most pressing topics in the AI bubble - the best value in tech analysis. Highlights include last week's Hater's Guide To The Memory Crisis - a guide to how AI made everything more expensive - How OpenAI Kills Oracle (which pairs nicely with the Hater's Guide To Oracle ), The Hater's Guide To NVIDIA , The Hater's Guides To Private Credit and Private Equity , and how the entire AI Compute Demand Story Is A Lie . Today’s piece is one of the largest free newsletters I’ve ever written, and pulls together the last six months of my work. And it all starts with a question: how much do you trust Sam Altman? The stock market and (to some extent) the global economy rests on your answer. You see, OpenAI has become one of the largest liabilities in recent economic history. You can argue that OpenAI’s no longer the focal point of the AI bubble — you can talk all you want about open source models or Anthropic or any number of other elements — but without OpenAI, the AI industry doesn’t exist, and the justification for trillions of dollars of capex evaporates.  The AI bubble isn’t a result of any actual return on investment — whether that be in purely monetary terms, like revenue or profitability , productivity gains, or anything tangible or measurable. Rather, it’s an episode of cult-like psychosis that infected the brains of some of the most powerful and wealthy individuals and institutions, where the powerful mythology of a company inspired — and been used to inspire — the greatest capital misallocation in history.  As much as this’ll piss some people off, I fully believe that the only reason this has kept going so long is that OpenAI has yet to collapse. Its failure would be a watershed moment — the Lehman Brothers of the AI bubble, and an event that would define the end of one epoch, the start of another, and that would shake the afflicted out of that psychosis. Absent this wake-up call, NVIDIA has continued to sell GPUs, the coffers of the semiconductor industry have continued to swell, and more and more spending commitments have been made.  Look. OpenAI intends to burn over $852 billion by the end of 2030 . It accounts for $748 billion of the remaining performance obligations of Microsoft, Amazon, and Oracle, on top of at least another $70 billion of RPOs across Cerebras , CoreWeave , Nebius, IREN, Lambda, and Nscale (per Kakashii), and plans to spend indeterminate billions’-worth of Broadcom “Jalapeno” chips . It intends to spend $50 billion or more on compute this year , which I estimate is more than 50% of all global AI compute spend (with OpenAI taking up 50%+ of all AI compute infrastructure ).  OpenAI can only afford to pay that as a result of its latest (assuming it fully closes) $122 billion funding round , of which it has received at least $50 billion, with $20 billion from SoftBank (of $30 billion, with the third tranche due October 1, 2026 ). NVIDIA mentioned in its latest quarterly earnings report that it “estimate[d] that one AI research and deployment company contributed to a meaningful amount of [its] revenue by purchasing cloud services from [its] customers in the first quarter of fiscal year 2027,” referring, of course, to OpenAI. OpenAI is the reason anyone cares about AI. In March 2019 ( per JustDario ), NVIDIA bought a company called Mellanox that made the high-speed networking tech necessary to create AI GPU clusters, and four months after that, Microsoft invested a billion dollars in OpenAI and started buying AI GPUs and building AI infrastructure for it. By March 2020, NVIDIA would ship its A100 GPU , and in May 2020 , Microsoft would announce it had built a supercomputer just for OpenAI with “more than 285,000 CPU cores [and] 10,000 GPUs.” The launch of ChatGPT in November 2022 came at the perfect time for a tech industry that had run out of ideas and was flirting with a prolonged depression. The IPO market had collapsed , interest hikes killed the Zero Interest Free era dead, pandemic era overhiring began to unwind with some of the worst layoffs in the history of the industry , global venture funding dwindled after historic overinvestment in 2021 , and tech stocks took a massive beating .  For the first time, the tech industry was forced to cut its cloth in accordance with its means — something which it has historically been loath to do. Big tech was unpopular, both with investors and the general public. The excesses of the past decade — combined with the growing frustration with, for lack of a better word, “tech exceptionalism,” where it believed that the rules which governed the rest of the world didn’t apply to Silicon Valley — had tested the patience of both regulators and lawmakers. And, in the absence of “one more thing” — a big, splashy, game-changing product category — it no longer had an excuse for its prodigal spending, or its regular breaking of the rules, both written and unwritten, that govern society. The existence of OpenAI justified an era of mania and opulence. Hyperscalers, bereft of new hypergrowth ideas , were able to point at the fact that ChatGPT had “the fastest growing userbase of all time” and the Microsoft “supercomputer” that built it and tell their investors that if they didn’t invest, they’d be left behind , with Amazon , Meta , and Google announcing their own nebulous “supercomputers” in 2023.  By the end of 2023, NVIDIA had sold 500,000 A100 GPUs , and the only reason it did so was because of ChatGPT’s rapid growth . Sam Altman’s brief ouster only sought to inflate the AI bubble by adding a layer of dull palace intrigue to a tech industry bereft of whimsy or character — and helped further entrench Microsoft’s role as the paternalistic benefactor of OpenAI, which made sure that Altman returned to the helm . To be clear, when I say “rapid growth,” I mean that OpenAI hit 100 million weekly active users by the end of 2023 and had about $108 million in monthly revenue . Microsoft would invest $10 billion more that year , with the majority of that funding coming in the form of credits to be used on Microsoft Azure . OpenAI is also the reason that Anthropic exists — not just because multiple founders came from the company, but because both Google and Amazon both agreed to give it a total of $6 billion in 2023 as a means of “competing” with Microsoft’s new obsession, which allowed both to justify spending further hundreds of billions of dollars “to make sure they didn’t miss out on AI.”  When you remove the term “AI” from the equation, this all seems a little ludicrous. $16 billion in equity investment on top of what was, by the end of 2023, over $150 billion in capital expenditures, all of which was pretty much justified by the fact that a single website had been very popular.  And the only reason either of these companies were able to grow was because of hyperscalers bankrolling their entire infrastructure.  In the fourth quarter of 2023 , global venture capital funding had dropped to its lowest levels since the third quarter of 2016, with American startups taking up $183.6 billion of the year’s investments. Venture capital alone couldn’t have — and wouldn’t have — actually backed OpenAI or Anthropic at the scale that was necessary to build their infrastructure, nor would there have been any of the hunger from hyperscalers or those providing debt for data centers without hyperscalers inflating both of these companies, almost entirely because of the success of OpenAI.   Remove OpenAI from the years 2020 through 2024 and the AI bubble wouldn’t have inflated at all. No other major AI companies showed any sign of life — not those peddled by hyperscalers, funded by venture capitalists, or those launched by other tech firms.  The only reason that any hyperscaler AI efforts have any revenue — and outside OpenAI and Anthropic it’s pretty meager! — is because they knew they could just sit there and keep saying “AI is the future” until their customers eventually gave in and tried it…largely because everybody was talking about ChatGPT .  Anthropic was considered an also-ran until early 2025, and only continued to get funded because people wanted to invest in the next OpenAI , and Anthropic’s initial funding rounds and infrastructure buildout were only justified in terms of competing with OpenAI.   Those $178.5 billion in US-based data center debt deals in 2025 ? Pretty much entirely justified by the growth of OpenAI and its rapacious hunger for compute, because outside of OpenAI (and eventually Anthropic), nobody else was using massive clusters of tens of thousands of GPUs, nor does a market for compute at that scale appeared to have popped up in the months and years since.  The largest consumers of compute remain Microsoft (for OpenAI), Google (for Anthropic), Amazon (for OpenAI and Anthropic), CoreWeave (for OpenAI and Anthropic), Meta (which is copying what the other hyperscalers are doing), and Oracle (for OpenAI). Otherwise, there’s very little evidence — and boy, have I looked — that there’s more than a few billion in demand for AI compute, and that’s being generous.  All of those investments — both in AI startups and data centers — existed to fund either the next OpenAI or become the next OpenAI’s landlord.  The assumption — because nobody ever thinks things through — was that because one OpenAI existed, many OpenAIs would bloom. That because one large customer of compute existed, the template had been built for future compute-intensive startups…and, again, because nobody ever thinks about anything, nobody ever stopped to realize that the reason there isn’t another OpenAI is because OpenAI and Anthropic are financial psy-ops by the largest software companies in the world.  The grim truth is that you can’t venture fund an AI lab. While OpenAI and Anthropic have raised nearly $300 billion in the last few years, their actual infrastructure costs — the GPUs and the data centers to power their services — were entirely funded by hyperscalers, likely costing another $250 billion in the process, given that Microsoft has said it spent $100 billion on its OpenAI relationship as of early 2026 .  Yet the real cost wasn’t just financial , but the experience and industrial know-how to actually execute on a massive infrastructure bailout. Other than Google, Microsoft, and Amazon, nobody else has the scale or experience to build the kind of AI clusters that OpenAI (and eventually Anthropic) needed.  We know that for a couple of reasons. First, because prior to 2023, there were few — if any — companies actually building AI computing clusters at the kind of scale demanded by OpenAI or Anthropic. The closest thing that one could point to were crypto-mining firms, and it’s telling that many of the neoclouds today (most famously Coreweave) started life running warehouses full of ASICs to mine Bitcoin and Ethereum. Second, because, based on conversations with people in the data center industry, the whole Overton window of what is considered to be a “big” facility has shifted. Previously, a 50MW data center would have been considered a significant (even noteworthy) development. These were the exception, and not the rule, with most data centers being vastly more modest affairs. The only companies which had any experience building at that scale were, for the most part, hyperscalers.   By treating OpenAI as a “venture backed startup,” hyperscalers created the illusion that this was the next type of big company that would in turn create the next great demand center in cloud computing , except the only reason that these companies existed was because of the hyperscalers themselves willing them into existence, funding them with incredible sums, and allowing them to burn as much money as they’d like.   This is why the idea that OpenAI will continue to grow infinitely is central to the mythology of the AI bubble. The existence of one OpenAI allows others to — no matter how illogical — imagine the existence of more OpenAIs, which in turn means that those OpenAIs will need just as much compute as OpenAI.   The dimwitted investor who believes this tripe can justify it through any number of different buy-side analysts or captured members of the media that talk about the “insatiable demand for compute,” pointing to capacity constraints ( caused by slow data center construction and — hah! — OpenAI and Anthropic taking up much of the world’s compute ) and increasing GPU prices as proof that actually, there’s tons of demand , all without ever really thinking too hard. The greatest trick that hyperscalers played was never backing down. By sinking more than a trillion dollars into AI capex without ever showing a single dollar of profit , they justified literally anyone investing in AI data centers under the logic that “the largest companies in the world couldn’t be wrong,” even if the reason they were doing so was to expand capacity for OpenAI and Anthropic, who the hyperscalers themselves incubated.   It is fundamentally illogical and insane for hyperscalers to have spent so much money on AI infrastructure, and the reason that few people will say so is because it was, until recently, considered radical to suggest that this was a waste of money, almost entirely because of the existence and continued growth of OpenAI. Whatever utility you may or may not get out of LLMs is irrelevant because it has not, for the most part, been what actually underpins data center investment. While accelerating gains in code generation (itself something that could have only happened without vast subsidies) might have helped grow Anthropic , the vast majority of data center capex has been built chasing the dragon of what AI could be rather than any connection to the revenues or economics of the companies at large — outside, of course, their compute spend.  This is the underlying greed that has driven this wasteful, reckless and destructive era — the belief that there will be another OpenAI and, as I’ve said, the chance to become the next OpenAI’s landlord. And because the media and analysts very rarely have original ideas, everybody justified (and justifies) the waste through the same tired mantras, saying it was “just like Uber ( nope !)” or “just like Amazon Web Services ( between 2003 and 2015, Amazon spent $29.7 billion on capex, normalized for inflation ).” And like any great investment bubble, the more money that piled in, the greater the fear of missing out, the more dollars that can be justified in turn, and the more-complex and deranged the mythology becomes, which is why you have noted venture capitalists claiming that AI labs have “90%+ inference margins,” a completely unproven statement that AI boosters cling to and repeat often enough that it’s taken as gospel, likely to avoid thinking about the fact that you can burn $14,000 in tokens on a $200-a-month ChatGPT subscription .  This kind of mythology only grows in an environment deliberately deprived of good information. The fact that we’re four years into this horrible bubble and still don’t have consistently-held consensus around the actual costs of large language models is a testament to an industry-wide effort to suppress them.  OpenAI, Anthropic, Microsoft, Google, and Amazon have done everything in their power — based on discussions with sources familiar with their infrastructure — to obfuscate the actual underlying costs of their operations, and Silicon Valley, an industry of alleged free thinkers and individuals, is more than willing to accept whatever convenient myths might sustain their dreams.  And in the end, they all became useful idiots for hyperscalers. Their obsessive attachment to OpenAI — and by extension Anthropic — seems like a decision made under the auspices of “democratizing powerful AI,” all as effectively every dollar flows to either Microsoft, Google, Amazon, or Oracle, who in turn feed that money to NVIDIA or Broadcom, who in turn feeds that money to TSMC, SK Hynix, Samsung, or Micron.  Invest in an AI startup? They’re gonna be paying one of the AI labs, who will in turn pay a hyperscaler. Invest in an AI infrastructure company? That money will flow to NVIDIA, and then upstream to semiconductor companies. In the end, whether they die or get acquired (as none of them are going public) , all of the value will end up in the hands of one of the hyperscalers who created this imaginary era, then helped inflate it into something very, very dangerous. Yet the problem is that this industry cannot, under any circumstances, survive without OpenAI.  When people discuss OpenAI’s potential collapse, they act with pure cowardice either saying “it won’t be that bad” or say something vague about it “ being too big to fail .”  If OpenAI — the company with the most money and the most infrastructure and the most attention and the most talent in AI — collapses, it will likely do so after AI data center debt and venture capital funding has been almost entirely exhausted.  You see, Goldman Sachs’ Jeffrey Papai recently noted that it will be “very difficult” to replicate the hundreds of billions of dollars that hyperscalers have raised in the last four years — $244 billion in 2026 alone if you include NVIDIA and SpaceX — which is a problem considering that they can no longer fund their data center capex using their cashflows as of Q3 2026 .   And to be clear, hyperscaler capex doesn’t have to stop for NVIDIA to stumble. It just has to slow down meaningfully enough that Jensen Huang can no longer give investors 60%+ year-over-year revenue bumps, because the AI bubble is built on vibes, and it can only survive so long as those vibes don’t become sour.  Yes, yes, I realize there are other customers, but the vast majority of NVIDIA’s demand comes from hyperscalers, who are (for the most part) either building out their operations for OpenAI and Anthropic or simply copying what the other hyperscalers are doing (see: Meta and SpaceX).  Once hyperscalers stop spending money, banks that are afraid of “choking” on data center debt will see that a vast amount of capital is leaving the market and underwrite (or not, as the case may be) deals as such. This will mean, at some point, that both OpenAI and Anthropic will be walking around with their hands out saying “money please!” at precisely the moment that everybody will be cutting back. While NVIDIA might get a little desperate and throw some extra cash their way, if revenues start collapsing, so too will its interest in further inflating the bubble as investors begin to ask whether any of this was real or one large circular financing scam . While this is absolutely a problem for Anthropic — especially after its $35 billion debt deal with Broadcom — it’s much, much worse for OpenAI, which has (as mentioned) made $748 billion in compute commitments to some of the largest and well-lawyered companies in the world. OpenAI’s continued marketing efforts involve constantly refreshing rate limits around the launches of its most-expensive models, giving away millions of dollars of tokens to startups , and generally running the “grow as fast as possible and work out a business later” model into the ground at speed, all fueled and funded by Clammy Sammy Altman’s nasty habit of overpromising and underdelivering. Clamuel’s biggest mistake was leaving the pearly gates of the hyperscalers and dancing with the mortals of Oracle, Cerebras, and CoreWeave. While Microsoft or Amazon might be willing to extend payment terms as a means of saving face and prolonging the inevitable, Oracle — a law firm with a software company attached — is more than capable of loud and aggressive litigation under any contractual breach. Then there’s the fact that Apple is suing OpenAI after poaching multiple engineers for its hardware efforts and allegedly both coaching and coercing them into stealing trade secrets , which is all but certain to destroy any chance of OpenAI releasing a device in the next few years…and potentially the company itself. These are extremely serious allegations, with Apple also accusing OpenAI of trying to coerce trusted partners into revealing manufacturing techniques for iPhones — the kind of thing that can (and will) lead to brutal discovery and potentially criminal charges. OpenAI also, as I’ve mentioned, needs to keep growing to keep up with those bills, and at some point will run out of real dollars to pay people, likely at exactly the time that it’s hardest to find more of them. While there might be billions of dollars left to be raised, to pay any of its bills, OpenAI needs tens of billions of dollars multiple times a year. Based on my own reporting on its audited financials from 2024 and 2025 , OpenAI will need to raise funding at least three more times in the next decade.  To make matters worse, its free users have become a massive liability. While The Information reported that OpenAI expected to generate $2.4 billion in ad revenue in 2026, and $102 billion in 2030 , it turns out that reality is a little harsher, with analyst eMarketer projects that the entire AI chatbot ad industry combined will only make $1 billion this year , with the entire market making $5.41 billion by 2030.  This means that the 900 million weekly active users of ChatGPT will remain a massive drain on the company’s finances, with only 5% or so of them opting to pay , and a projected 80% of its $20-a-month users expected to churn in 2026 . At some point, OpenAI will simply run out of money. It’s nearly exhausted every available source of capital, and now that it’s likely delaying its IPO to 2027 — largely in part because it couldn’t list at a $1 trillion valuation — it will have to raise again, potentially at a down-round valuation or at a modest increase which will, in turn, make it much more difficult for investors to see a return in an IPO.  Investors will likely ask questions like “why couldn’t you go public?” and “what is it that bankers didn’t like?” as Sam Altman looks at them like this: You see, OpenAI is awesome at selling mythology and hype, but crumbles the second that its numbers have to face the cold, harsh light of day.  While it’s been able to skate by in situations like Altman’s ouster and its conversion to a for-profit, these were strictly legal situations that could be dealt with by lawyers and cheered on by the press . OpenAI has never faced a problem like “not being able to pay its bills” or “breaching a contract with a major company,” and I think these are an inevitability in its future. In the end, OpenAI’s collapse will be a dramatic narration of the boring, horrifying economics of the AI bubble. Let me explain: The AI bubble is inflated based on hype and hopium rather than tangible proof or substantial revenues driven to anyone outside of the semiconductor industry, and without NVIDIA’s massive returns, I don’t think anybody would’ve taken it seriously past 2024. Any and all achievements of the AI industry are a direct result of market psychosis, a broken media ecosystem, and a trillion dollars that could’ve been sunk into literally anything else, and must be evaluated as such. The double-edge sword of a mythology-inflated bubble is that it’s much harder to sustain when said mythology dies. The AI bubble was able to grow to such a horrendous size because the markets and the media were willing to accept basically anything that Sam Altman or the greater AI industry said.  By waving away any economic problems as growing pains and dismiss those who would scrutinize it as haters or cynics, reporters and analysts provided investors with the justification to invest again and again in these companies without them ever having to make a real business , which means that, well…they don’t have real businesses, which is a problem when you need to actually pay somebody money that wasn’t given to you by a venture capitalist. This will leave the AI industry short-changed in its most-desperate times.  The media is important for many, many reasons, but one of the biggest ones is that scrutiny is what keeps capital in check, for the benefit of humanity and at times the companies themselves. By choosing to pull their punches, ignore glaring economic problems and accept every projection with blind faith, the media empowers grifting and suffocates good businesses as a result, encouraging bad behavior and helping them raise unbelievable amounts of money at ridiculous valuations without worrying about having to make a good business. In some cases, the media even encourages them to do so, saying that “all startups lose money at first” instead of thinking about things for a fucking second. When companies know they won’t face that scrutiny, they engineer themselves as such, putting off ever finding a real business model in favor of whatever will make them buzzy enough to get coverage and raise funding as a result. In a vacuum of skepticism, bubbles inflate, monsters get rich, and regular people always get left holding the bag. As a result, if companies ever bother to become a real business, they only do so at the very last minute, endangering anyone who has backed them and every counterparty in the event they’re incorrect.  When OpenAI dies, it will be after a prolonged period of desperate reorganization and attempts to appeal to investors and the media that it can, in fact, become a real business. These attempts — price increases, price cuts, selling off IP, nebulous circular deals, and so on — will all fail, and by the end, Sam Altman will have run through every single trick imaginable to keep the party going.  And when those fail, what do you think Perplexity does? How about Harvey? Cursor got the last chopper out of ‘Nam with the SpaceX acquisition (assuming it actually happens), but what, exactly, is Cognition, or Glean, or Sierra, or really any AI startup meant to say to compel investors to believe in them once OpenAI dies? That they’re different? That they’re gonna work it out after the company that got given basically everything it needed failed?  The entire AI industry’s sales pitch is that OpenAI opened the world’s eyes to the power of AI, and that giving the AI industry as much money as possible would end in economic abundance the likes of which we’ve never seen. Instead, we’ve got two AI labs that both lose billions of dollars, and the latest model from one of them randomly deletes people’s stuff. It’s not like any of this was sold on actual ROI or real businesses or returns or productivity or any actual measurable thing other than physical infrastructure erected in its honor.  There are simply no compelling stories about the AI industry that can be told in the present tense. Everything is always based on the theoretical multiplicative power of just waiting a few more years, which becomes much harder to believe if the company with the Mandate of Heaven gets sent to Cocytus.  This will have massive downstream effects on basically everything and everyone connected to the AI industry. You won’t be able to raise money for a startup to spend money on compute, nor will you be able to convince somebody that your LLM wrapper will change the world, nor will you be able to justify a massive valuation. Venture capitalists fancy themselves as brave soldiers of the economy, but are really cowardly lemmings that will sprint for cover the second that things get rough.  I also keep hearing from people that Anthropic is magically safe from the AI bubble’s clutches, or insulated from its rotten economics. The amount of pure mythology and misinformation I read about this company on Twitter is genuinely offensive, and the fact that journalists have categorically failed to push back against it is proof that too few people give a shit about anything other than which boot they get to lick next. Anthropic faces the same economic realities as OpenAI. It burns billions of dollars on training, it hides inference costs in sales and marketing, and the only real differences are that it focused more on coding and made fewer ridiculous infrastructure commitments…right up until this year, when it committed $200 billion in compute and hardware commitments to Google , raised $35 billion in debt from Apollo to buy Google TPUs , signed a $15 billion a year compute deal with SpaceX , and agreed to a 20-year-long, $19 billion lease with TeraWulf . Much like OpenAI, Anthropic is also doing way, way too much. There’s Claude for Life Sciences , Claude for Legal , Claude for Small Business , Claude Design , and even, for whatever reason, reports that Anthropic intends to develop its own drugs — and instead of saying “hey man, what the fuck are you doing?” the media falls over itself to repeat and celebrate every single one as if they’re all viable or useful products. Anthropic is as messy, disorderly and unfocused as OpenAI, but has done a better job of convincing people that it’s somehow “ethical” as it fucks over its partners and farts out 200 new products a month.  This is a company that lacks focus or vision other than “more” and “bigger.” The only thing that differentiates OpenAI from Anthropic at this point is the nebulous promises of “AI code” and Dario Amodei’s Doom Trolling and safety theater. The fact that the majority of the media made no efforts to push back against its shenanigan-rich “profitability” narrative is why we’re in this fucking mess.  Anthropic is an AI lab just like OpenAI. It uses GPUs, TPUs and Trainium chips. It trains models in much the same way to do much the same things, and builds quasi-functional plugins on top of them, just like OpenAI does. It makes big compute commitments, it had its infrastructure built out for it by hyperscalers, its CEO is annoying and beloved by cretins, and its value is largely determined by 1000 people on “X The Everything App” experiencing varying levels of AI psychosis.  Attempts to claim otherwise are tacit admissions that OpenAI is unsustainable. Please note that when I say “victims,” I don’t always mean “people you should feel sorry for.” In some cases I’ll be talking about real people who are facing the horrible consequences of the OpenAI bubble bursting, and for whom you should feel a degree of sympathy, and in others, I’m referring to various Patagonia gargoyles’ financial woes. I assume you’ll be able to differentiate between them.  My last premium newsletter was the massive Hater’s Guide To The Memory Crisis , or the twisted tale of how three companies — Samsung, SK Hynix and Micron — have diverted meaningful amounts of manufacturing supply away from making the RAM you find in laptops and smartphones toward making the high-bandwidth memory that powers GPUs, jacking up the price of consumer electronics in the process.  To explain: To simplify, the AI GPUs in AI data centers require hundreds of gigabytes of high-bandwidth memory, the CPUs attached to them require the same RAM as your smartphone, and the companies making all of this RAM are making huge profits by jacking up the price because of supply chain constraints that they themselves have created. That’s why Micron had 84.9% gross margins in the last quarter . The RAM triopoly controls more than 90% of the world’s memory, and can set prices at whatever rate they want. These three companies were all fined over $100 million by the Department of justice back in 2002 for price-fixing , with Micron avoiding the fine by turning in its co-conspirators . Five years later in 2007, a Supreme Court judgment and resulting precedent ( Bell Atlantic V. Twombly ) drastically raised the bar for not simply winning an antitrust case, but even getting one to trial : This precedent would kill a 2019 class action case against SK Hynix, Samsung and Micron that alleged they had colluded to tighten the supply of the world’s DRAM , because despite statements from company representatives made at public events, their collective participation in certain industry groups, and observable pricing trends, the precedent set by Twombly meant that the plaintiffs required more than circumstantial evidence to bring something to trial.  Anyway, the reason I bring this up is that while I am not accusing Samsung, SK Hynix, and Micron of price-fixing, a recent lawsuit is accusing them of exactly that : So, what does this have to do with OpenAI?  Well, back on October 1, 2025 , OpenAI, Samsung and SK Hynix announced a “strategic partnership” that would involve OpenAI buying 900,000 wafers of DRAM a month (around 40% of the world’s supply at the time) for Stargate data centers — something that never actually happened (it was a memorandum of understanding, and OpenAI also had nowhere to put them), but both SK Hynix and Samsung’s stocks immediately rallied , and Samsung happened to hike prices by 60% a month later , which could be a coincidence, or could have been the company saying “yeah, wow, we’re gonna run out of RAM I guess, better buy now at whatever price we have it!” Another clue that this might not all have been above board was that Samsung was reportedly doing another deal with OpenAI in March 2026 , “...to supply up to 800 ⁠million gigabits (Gb) of 12-layer HBM4 chips to OpenAI in ​the second half of this year” per Reuters, for use with Broadcom’s custom “Jalapeno” chip . Though it’s hard to calculate exactly how much that would be wafer-wise, from what I understand we’re talking in terms of less than 100,000 wafers total after OpenAI, Samsung, and SK Hynix said they’d be taking up 900,000 a month. Regardless of whether OpenAI ever takes a single wafer of silicon, these deals existed to put the squeeze on any company that uses memory in their products — including NVIDIA, AMD and Broadcom — which in turn led to the most aggressive price increases in the history of consumer electronics. As I said last Friday: And yes, OpenAI is responsible, both in its naked collusion with memory manufacturers to push an announcement that never resulted in anything other than price increases and its siren song that made every dimwit with debt desperate to build AI data centers.  Every single consumer suffers as a result. RAM is in everything, and it’s unclear when new manufacturing capacity will actually come online, as fabs are expensive and complex construction efforts and require tons of specialist talent, raw materials, permitting, land and power. SK Hynix Chairman Chey Tae-won said in March that the memory shortage would last until 2030 , and he may be right, as a Bank of America report just said that SK Hynix may only be able to add a sixth of its planned capacity by 2028 . This means that the price of consumer electronics will be inflated for the foreseeable future, even if the AI bubble bursts. While capex pullbacks will eventually happen and by extension eventually lead to supply constraints easing, Micron, Samsung, and SK Hynix had sold out their entire 2026 supply by the second week of January , and noted that they’d only be able to handle 60% of “medium-term” customer memory orders, which suggests to me that 2027 might be even worse, with a subtle clue being that SK Hynix CEO Kwak Noh-jung recently told Reuters that 2027 would be “the worst year in the industry’s history from a supply perspective.”  While the memory triopoly has every incentive to make things seem bleak to drum up business and sustain their margins, behind the scenes reports suggest they’re turning the screws on everybody. This is a graphic example of companies with massive amounts of leverage using it to fuck over both their customers and their customers’ customers .  Who gave them that leverage? The AI industry and Sam fucking Altman.  Hey, remember when I just said that ( it seems, but I cannot confirm that) OpenAI helped SK Hynix and Samsung manufacture a supply chain crisis last year using a phoney announcement for a project that would never happen? That happened three other fucking times in the same three week period, and modern journalism doesn’t seem to give much of a shit! Let’s review what happened, per my year-ending Enshittifinancial Crisis newsletter : All four of these companies’ stocks rallied on deals that land somewhere between misleading and fictional, with basically anyone who invested in them being underwater within two months, though all three have recovered thanks to similarly-questionable announcements and deals made by companies with the sole intention of boosting their stocks.  Why else would Sam Altman go on CNBC with NVIDIA CEO Jensen Huang on the day of an announcement of a project that was only ever a letter of understanding ? Why else would Sam Altman jump on TV with Bob Iger to talk about a Disney deal that clearly never went anywhere? Spare me any explanations around the “fast-paced dealmaking of AI” or “how deals are complex.” CNBC reported the day after the NVIDIA deal was announced that the first $10 billion tranche would “close within a month or once the transaction had finalized” via a source! It’s blatantly obvious that the intention was to create the appearance that a deal existed that never actually existed at all! The AI trade is the natural endpoint of an increasingly-enshittified stock market where many analysts and journalists exist only to repeat narratives to influence stock prices. Outside of semiconductors, the AI trade has never, ever been about the actual underlying economics or the actual economic potential of Large Language Models, but projecting shadows on the wall to resemble something that looks like the next generation of technology. That’s because the AI trade is entirely symbolic and driven by stock prices. When NVIDIA and the rest of the Magnificent Seven (sans Apple) does well, AI is the greatest thing on Earth. When the Magnificent Seven stumbles, everybody worries that they might be overspending on AI. The AI trade exists only to manipulate stock prices through spurious news and smoke signals on social media, and to drag gullible retail investors ( who account for 20% of US equity trading volumes, the highest it’s been since 2021 ) and the rest of the market away from caring about things like “fundamentals” or “reality” toward whatever keys are currently jingling.  My evidence is fairly simple: Google, Meta, Microsoft, and Amazon don’t actually tell you their AI revenues, other than when Microsoft and Amazon have chosen to define it in terms of undefined “run rates.” And why would they? Reporters have been saying that their AI bets have paid off for years without the companies ever having to show it paying off other than their stocks running.  Here’s another example: CoreWeave, a time bomb /AI compute company that only really exists as a revenue source for NVIDIA ( per Jensen Huang , if [NVIDIA] didn’t help CoreWeave exist, they would not exist”) by signing contracts with companies for unbuilt capacity that it then takes to banks and uses to raise more money to buy GPUs. NVIDIA knows that analysts and reporters don’t give a shit about the blatant self-dealing and circular financing, all because these deals help the stock price go up, which apparently is the only metric that modern journalism evaluates. That’s why when NVIDIA invested $2 billion in CoreWeave in January 2026 — a warning sign that the company had liquidity problems! — led to endless positive coverage after “the stock popped on the news,” per CNBC. That’s because the AI trade exists only to extract value and con investors. It is not a trade related to the actual fundamentals of whether AI works or not, whether AI actually makes anyone money, or really anything about AI at all outside of whether mentioning AI or an AI-related company makes a stock number go up or down. I’ll be blunt: modern journalism has failed the retail investor and directly helped the wallet inspector regulate the stock market. By empowering Sam Altman and the rest of the AI industry’s deliberate attempts to obfuscate the actual economics of generative AI and setting the terms of AI’s success as “how stocks are doing and whether the companies are growing in general,” they have defaulted on their responsibility to the general public and helped the already-rich get richer.  None of this would be possible if business journalism actually saw themselves as having a responsibility to give their audience good information. While one could argue that if you had blindly invested in the AI trade you might have made money, the ability to make money in the AI trade was directly driven by modern journalism’s inability or unwillingness to push back on any corporate narrative. Every major outlet ran a story on every one of the deals I mentioned, and not a single one seemed remotely upset or deterred by the fact they were misled, and in turn misled their audience. And yes, investment funds can be just as easily manipulated as a retail investor, and will follow whatever trend seems likely to make them money, even if said trend is utterly disconnected from any fundamentals. Tech analysts help do so by creating vast models that give a veneer of respectability, even if their projections mostly amount to “number will always go up in the future.”  This is why Musk was able to dump SpaceX on the public markets. Why SK Hynix chose to list on the NASDAQ. When the entire world is captured by a childlike belief that “AI is good and will be the biggest thing ever,” you empower grifting and swindling at scale.  Well, that and underwriters like Goldman Sachs are so nakedly crooked that they’ll say they expect SpaceX’s AI revenue to grow 100x by 2030 . Fuck off! Yet the memory boom/bust/crisis is where the media has failed investors the most — a final insult before everything collapses. You see ( to quote myself ), what makes this particular memory crisis so distinctly dangerous is that it isn’t a result of consumer demand so much as it is capital expenditures from very large companies making bets that don’t connect with reality.  Microsoft, Google, Amazon, and Meta aren’t spending $765 billion in capex in 2026 because of rapid demand by consumers for AI services, but a desperation caused by a lack of hypergrowth ideas , circular financing with Anthropic and OpenAI , and a vague concern that if they stop spending that the other guy will do something as a result.  Anyone blathering on about a “memory supercycle” is intentionally obfuscating where that revenue and demand is coming from — high-bandwidth memory attached to AI GPUs, meaning that this boom cycle only exists as a symptom of a greater hype cycle, meaning that when companies stop buying GPUs , the demand for that (briefly) high-margin high-bandwidth memory goes with it.   To give you some context, a chart from ComputerBase.de showed that high-bandwidth memory demand grew from 681 million gigabits of HBM in 2022 to 29.3 billion gigabits on 2026 — a 40x increase over the course of four years that suggests that once GPU-related capital expenditures stop, high-bandwidth memory demand will effectively disappear .  As I mentioned previously, this isn’t even me being a hater . Hyperscalers are now joining the rest of the world in having to raise debt to buy more GPUs, which means that at some point they aren’t going to be able to afford to buy as much, which will in turn mean that NVIDIA — which accounts for around 65% of all HBM purchasing — won’t need as much. I have not read a single fucking article that mentions that this is a possibility! Every article about the memory industry right now is about supply constraints and the increasing cost of memory , but none of them warn investors or the general public about what will happen when capex slows , and certainly not the many, many articles in major business publications about SK Hynix, Samsung and Micron’s revenues. In fact, Reuters said that SK Hynix’s “ scarcity premium looks built to last .” The cynical (and boring) response here is that “the market can stay irrational longer than you can stay solvent,” but saying that distracts from the larger point of how said irrationality was manufactured by the media .  I am not sure what the majority of the media sees as its purpose or responsibility to its readers, so I will speak plainly: the responsibility is to tell them the cold, hard truth, rather than going along with whatever hype cycle is happening out of fear of being wrong or missing out. Skepticism is not doomerism! Being critical is not being negative! These companies are some of the largest and richest enterprises in the world — they should be scrutinized! And no, scrutiny is not publishing everything they say and then making a vague comment about “whether or not that bet will pay off.” Too often, journalism conflates objectivity with passivity, seeing critiques as “negative” or “biased” when, in fact, repeating everything that corporations say to their benefits is about as biased as it gets. In the end, the victims are anybody who doesn’t exit the AI trade in time.  By the way, there’s no Hell hot enough, by the way, for the people that will read this and smugly say “heh, well, I made money,” or who point to anyone’s returns as evidence that the AI trade is anything other than manufactured consent. The fact that anyone made money on this trade is a sign that the stock market is inherently manipulated to benefit the wealthy at the cost of the many — and when the bubble bursts, the people that will suffer will have suffered because of the media’s participation by helping Sam Altman and the rest of the AI industry obfuscate and twist reality to pump stocks. Which leads us neatly to our next victim! In my Hater’s Guide To SoftBank , I told the story of CEO Masayoshi Son, a degenerate gambler who has steered his company through boom and bust cycles only through the grace of whatever God he believes in and sheer luck.  SoftBank Group — the holding company, and not to be confused with Softbank Corp, which runs a bunch of telcos and media companies in Japan — makes money only through either investing in or buying companies, then taking them public or selling them to someone else, and otherwise needs debt for liquidity.  Masayoshi Son makes terrible bet after terrible bet, but his luck always seems to work out for him. His $20 million stake in Alibaba turned into $50 billion at IPO. He bought a 70% stake in Sprint that turned into a 24% holding in T-Mobile . In the early 2000s, Softbank took a 23% stake in Betfair that eventually became part of the $17.7 billion Flutter Entertainment. And then there’s its most-recent and arguably most-impressive (after Alibaba at least) investment, ARM, which it acquired for $32 billion in 2016 and then took it public in 2023 at a valuation of $54.5 billion , and currently sits at around a $300 billion market cap.  Yet his problem has always been his dalliances with whimsical white boys. SoftBank sunk $1.5 billion into dodgy financial services firm Greensill Capital before its collapse, and in the aftermath, it was revealed that Masayoshi Son and CEO Lex Greensill talked on the phone every day , to the point that ( per Greensill himself ) SoftBank managers felt “threatened” by Greensill’s relationship with Son. It only took Masayoshi Son 28 minutes of conversation with WeWork’s Adam Neumann before he drew up the terms for a $4.4 billion investment on his iPad and signing the deal in the back of a cab, with Son saying that “the last person he felt this with was [Alibaba CEO] Jack Ma.”  And no white boy has ever been more whimsical than Sam Altman.  In 2019 , Altman turned down $10 billion from Masayoshi Son (which, ironically, would’ve been an incredible investment at the time), going instead with $1 billion (and full infrastructure support) from Microsoft, and I believe this moment drove Son into a level of madness that will potentially wreck the company. You see, up until fairly recently, SoftBank had been dragged down by the declining value of its atrocious investments via its two venture capital funds — Vision Fund 1 and 2, the latter of which was self-funded and has mostly gone toward funding OpenAI. Up until recently, SoftBank had quarter after quarter of losses as investment after investment saw its NAV drop because, well, they were overvalued and SoftBank never should’ve invested in them in the first place. To survive, SoftBank moved into “ defense mode ” in 2020, slowing investments and selling the vast majority of its Alibaba stock by April 2023 , with the ARM IPO and billions of dollars of bond sales helping slow the bleed. Yet Masayoshi Son knew he was destined for greater things, as he told CNBC in June 2024 : OpenAI — and the larger AI trade — had given Masayoshi Son a certain kind of greed-driven mania, where he believed that AI would make SoftBank (as he said recently) “ the goose that laid golden eggs ,” an eternal money-printer that ostensibly started with the biggest cash-burning machine in history.  Altman, like Neumann, like Greensill, told Masayoshi Son exactly what he wanted to hear: that this would be the biggest thing ever, and that Son would capture all of the value both through his investment in OpenAI and further investments in data centers and other AI infrastructure.  And so began his most vulgar investment yet — OpenAI, sinking $2 billion into the company from Vision Fund 2 in November 2024 — only for Altman to turn around and demand he fund $30 billion of a $40 billion round that would get announced four months later in March 2025 . Masayoshi Son was an emphatic “yes,” except for one little problem: he didn’t have the money, and could only afford the first $7.5 billion (due in April 2025) by taking out a $15 billion, year-long bridge loan , with the rest of it going toward his eventual purchase of Ampere computing .  To fund the remaining $22.5 billion, SoftBank was forced to take out further margin loans on its ARM stock , and sell large chunks of its T-Mobile stock , as well as its entire $5.83 billion stake in NVIDIA . Yet as soon as the check cleared, Sam Altman was blowing up his phone demanding more money as part of a $110 billion funding round in February 2026 (that eventually became $122 billion in late March). Masayoshi Son was once again an emphatic yes, except by this point he’d exhausted basically every useful thing left in his coffers outside of around $118 billion in ARM shares that make up around 40% of SoftBank’s net asset value, meaning that selling or using further ARM shares as collateral would directly tank its value — both through the obvious “they have less of a valuable thing” and sales/collateralization of further ARM shares affecting its share price. So, what did Masayoshi Son do? More debt, baby! More risky debt! You can always refinance it, right?  To pay for its share of OpenAI’s 2026 funding round, SoftBank took out a $40 billion bridge loan (maturing in March 2027), bringing its investment in the company to over $40 billion, with its payments to $10 billion tranches of OpenAI funding due in April, July and October 2026. A few months later, it tried to raise a $10 billion margin loan using its entire OpenAI investment as collateral, cut the amount it was raising to $6 billion, and when banks remained hesitant to give it the money anyway offered to “ guarantee repayment of the loan to address lender concerns, ” effectively backing the loan with its own balance sheet (called a recourse loan) because, despite being worth over $100 billion on paper, its lenders had doubts that its OpenAI stake was actually worth that much.  If you’re wondering why it didn’t simply take out more debt, it’s because (as a result of its continuing investments in OpenAI) S&P Global revised SoftBank’s outlook to negative , emphasis theirs : This has had a knock-on effect on the rating of the telecoms-focused Softbank Corp (as a reminder, Softbank Group is the holding company that owns stock in other companies, Softbank Corp is the energy/telecoms company that actually makes stuff), which is now rated BBB, or the lowest-possible rung of investment-grade financing in the S&P system. To make matters worse, if SoftBank continues to hold a loan-to-value ratio of above 30% for much longer, it runs the risk of its debt getting downgraded even further, which would slam the door shut on its ability to raise money via bonds, which is…well, basically how SoftBank has functioned for the last 10 or 20 years. And this is all happening as Japan is determinedly inching away from the era of persistently low interest rates — making debt far more expensive to service.   SoftBank needs OpenAI to IPO so that it can turn that on-paper gain into actual liquid stocks that can be dumped into the market or used for real-life margin loans. SoftBank has jettisoned the vast majority of its heaviest-weight investments, leaving it largely dependent on the continued value of ARM’s stock to keep its seat at the table, and if OpenAI can’t go public, it’ll end up sitting on illiquid stock in a company that will see its value tank as a result. Yet even if OpenAI does go public, any attempts to get a margin loan will likely be dangerous, as I bet that it will be one of the single-most shorted and volatile stocks in history, which will also be a problem for SoftBank’s underlying net-asset value, which will ebb and flow based on whatever bullshit Altman cooks up every three months. Masayoshi Son is both a victim of the manufactured consent of the AI trade and an enabler of its worst excesses, empowering and enriching Sam Altman at a time when any kind of financial prudence might have curbed OpenAI’s greed or killed it before it caused further damage.  SoftBank tanking will fuck over anyone invested in the Japanese stock market, where it currently sits as the third-largest company by market cap behind KIOXIA (a memory company booming thanks to the AI trade) and Mitsubishi UFJ Financial (a bank with heavy ties to the AI industry and data center infrastructure). While I severely doubt it’ll die — it’s likely MUFJ and SMBC Bank would extend whatever credit necessary to keep the doors open — OpenAI and the greater AI trade has become a load-bearing toothpick holding up the trillion-ton ass of the world’s most well-funded gambler. For SoftBank to survive in its current form, OpenAI must go public, become a thriving and profitable business, and have its stock price stay elevated for the foreseeable future. Additionally, ARM must also retain or exceed its current stock price. Hey, while we’re on the subject of “companies betting the entire future on OpenAI that recently got downgraded by S&P Global…” Hey! You in the back! Stop laughing! Stop laughing at Larry Ellison! He’s now only the world’s 8th-most-richest guy !  Just kidding, fuck Larry Ellison. What I’m about to tell you might make you laugh, probably because it’s really funny. Oracle is currently spending over $340 billion to build out over 7.1GW of data center capacity for OpenAI , as part of its $300 billion, five-year-long cloud compute contract that began, at least in theory, on June 1, 2026 at the beginning of its Fiscal Year 2027, though much of the capacity is yet to be built. To fund the buildout, Oracle has had to raise over $50 billion via stock sales and debt , spent $55.7 billion in its last fiscal year , and expects to spend at least $90 billion more in FY2027. As a result of that , S&P Global downgraded Oracle’s credit rating to BBB/A-2 , the literal lowest level before it’ll become junk-grade, meaning that one more downgrade ( though it would have to be from two ratings agencies ) from here would risk Oracle becoming a “fallen angel,” with investment funds (that can’t hold junk grade debt) having to jettison its debt from indexes, as happened to Ford in March 2020 , leading to over $35 billion in debt being dumped and its borrowing costs skyrocketing to between 8.5% and 9.625% when it raised in April 2020 . For some context, Ford reported an average interest rate of 5.2% on its long term debt in its 2019 annual report .    You’ll never guess why S&P Global downgraded Oracle! And, once again, the emphasis is theirs: That’s a load-bearing if, brother!  Anyway, you know who else is trying to warn you about Oracle’s exposure to OpenAI? Oracle! Per Bloomberg : As a reminder, the only way that OpenAI will be able to afford to pay its $300 billion cloud compute contract with Oracle will be if it continues to hit revenue projections ( per The Information ) that have it making $113 billion in 2028, $184 billion in 2029, and $284 billion in 2030, a year when it will magically become profitable, and no, I don’t know how that happens: Based on my own analysis , assuming that Oracle can successfully build capacity for OpenAI to pay for (a load-bearing assumption), it would have to pay around $75 billion to rent that 7.1GW of capacity. Stargate Abilene, an 8-building, 1.2GW project that broke ground in July 2024 , has (per sources familiar with the matter) only built and operationalized three buildings, despite the project having meant to be fully operational by the end of 2025 ( per landowner Lancium ), or energized by the middle of 2026 , it isn’t really clear, and I can’t get a straight answer from anyone about whether the power even exists on site to turn any of it on.  Anyway, for Oracle to make all the rest of that money, it will have to build five more Stargate Abilenes. If you’re wondering how that’s going, Stargate Shackelford only broke ground in December 2025 , Stargate Wisconsin appeared to have a single steam beam in March , Stargate Michigan only got its first steel beams two months ago , and Stargate New Mexico is still waiting for permitting to begin construction .  Based on Lancium’s presentation and discussions with sources familiar, Oracle will pull in somewhere in the region of $10 billion in annual revenue from the (assuming it’s ever done), completely-finished 824MW of critical IT infrastructure at Stargate Abilene. It is unclear how Oracle hopes to be paid even a fraction of its $300 billion compute deal, because in its current state, its annual revenue from Stargate projects currently sits in the region of a maximum $5 billion a year, or less than a tenth of its FY2026 capex. For the most part, Oracle has funded the various Stargate data centers with project financing, meaning that a nebulous SPV will be responsible in the event it defaults on any of these contracts…until Stargate Michigan, which only closed when Oracle agreed to guarantee the $14 billion in bonds raised .  All of this revenue — both theoretical and otherwise — sits in Oracle’s “Cloud” segment, the only part of the business that’s actually growing , as the rest of its business has either been declining or plateauing for about a decade.  In any case, for Oracle to actually get paid its $300 billion, it will have to build upwards of 6GW of data center capacity…in a year and a half? This deal is meant to be worth in the higher range of tens of billions of dollars in annual revenue by FY2028, which begins on June 1 2027! Stargate is horribly, impossibly delayed, to a level that makes me wonder if anybody other than perhaps Anissa Gardizy has bothered to think about Stargate for even a fucking second. Anyway, Oracle’s entire future rides on this deal. While Oracle Cloud Infrastructure continues to grow, its future growth (and remaining performance obligations) almost entirely hinge on both its ability to build the largest infrastructure project of all time and for OpenAI to continue raising funding for an indefinite amount of time. The rest of that growth comes from Meta and xAI, both of whom are only really “doing AI” because everybody else is. This puts Oracle in a very, very compromising position on multiple different levels.  Generative AI is the only reason that Wall Street started liking Oracle again as its other business plateaued, even as it burned billions of dollars on capital expenditures and cut its gross margins by a little under 15% since 2022 , with the vast majority of that value coming from its revenue from OpenAI and what’s actually active at Stargate Abilene.  Much like the rest of the AI trade, everything about Oracle’s future is sold on potential rather than anybody thinking about reality or things like “whether Oracle can actually build the data centers” or “how Oracle makes any of that revenue if the data centers aren’t built” or “how OpenAI affords to pay for the compute if the data centers get built.” As Oracle said in its own disclosures, if OpenAI can’t pay, “Oracle could be left with massive data center leases that it might be unable to exit or have to re-lease to new tenants under less-favorable terms,” and there isn’t a single company on Earth who can or would pay for such a large amount of compute, nor is there the aggregate demand to justify it. While its many government contracts and national security significance make it unlikely that Oracle would be allowed to die , the collapse of its only growth segment will likely spell dark times for a company that’s already laid off 21,000 people as a means of funding its AI buildout. The double-edged sword of the AI trade’s childlike attachment to stock valuations poses an egregious threat to Larry Ellison himself. Hey — HEY! I said no laughing! Stop it! This is all very serious! This is a serious situation! You’re laughing about the potential downfall of a guy who once wrote a letter to the New York Times attacking HP for firing former CEO Mark Hurd for repeatedly making sexual advances toward a reality star using HP’s finances !  Sorry, my mistake, you should keep laughing, even the prospect of what I’m about to tell you is hilarious.  As I said in my piece about how OpenAI Kills Oracle:  One of the consistent themes of this piece is that much of the “value” of AI is hot air — by which I mean whatever people are willing to pay for a stock that’s continually inflated by specious media-driven hype.  Ellison’s wealth is driven by both his share of Oracle’s ongoing yearly dividend, his Oracle shares, and his ability to offer said shares as margin loans, which makes him vulnerable to even a symbolic collapse of OpenAI, which is why it had to tweet in February that “ the NVIDIA-OpenAI deal has zero impact on its financial relationship with OpenAI ” to calm those dumping the stock.  To be clear, Ellison has around 1.16 billion Oracle shares, leaving him with around 810 million or so left, allowing him to pledge them as further collateral rather than having to either dump them on the market or dip into his reserves of about $10 billion in cash and $15 billion in Tesla stock , with Ellison historically never selling more than about $4.7 billion in stock. We don’t know the exact scale of terms of his personal loans, but do know that he’s got a shit-ton of them, and that his entire fortune rests on the idea that he never has to sell Oracle stock. That becomes a problem if things drag on with the Warner Bros deal, as he’s also guaranteed $40 billion from the Ellison Trust , effectively barring him from selling or using those shares until the deal clears (and the money from the Middle East arrives to fund the deal). The amount of shares that Ellison has committed has oscillated on a year-by-year basis, sitting at 305 million in both 2018 and 2019 , rising to 317 million in both 2020 and 2021 , dropping to its lowest level in 2024 ( 217 million ) before bumping back up to 346 million in 2025. While the board theoretically keeps an eye on his loans and what he’s pledging, he holds 40% of Oracle’s stock and the undying loyalty of veterans like former CEO Safra Catz and co-CEOs Clay Magouyrk and Mike Sicilia. To get specific about how the Paramount/Warner Bros deal breaks down, $24 billion will be covered by funds from the Middle East (primarily sovereign wealth funds), with Ellison providing $22 billion and bank debt funding the rest.  If the deal doesn’t close by September 30, the Ellisons have to pay around $650 million a quarter in fees . If it does , Ellison will likely either have to liquidate his Tesla stock, hand over cash, or take out further margin loans on his Oracle stock to fund it. Those would likely increase the amount of shares he’d have to commit somewhere between 150 million and 300 million (at a loan-to-value of 25% to 50%) at whatever price Oracle is currently trading at. Though it’s hard to tell exactly, the number to look for with Oracle is “below $70.” Once that happens, Ellison will likely have to proffer more Oracle stock to keep up with his margin calls, which will severely limit his ability to take out further margin loans using his Oracle stock. He will have to renegotiate loans, and if he’s managed to buy Paramount, he’ll be sitting on the stock of a company with $80 billion in debt and constantly loses money , which will be far less-appetizing to potential lenders who are aware that the rest of Ellison’s money is tied up in the plummeting hopes of Oracle. Things could get much darker if Oracle plunges below $50, as at that point the encumbrances of his various enterprises and his own margin loans could become too much to avoid having to liquidate Oracle stock. If that happens, it creates a vicious cycle that will potentially involve selling off Paramount, dumping further Oracle shares, or even trying to engineer a firesale for the company. All of this was entirely avoidable if he had never met Sam Altman, and never gave in to the temptation of the AI trade. When the OpenAI Bubble — and OpenAI itself — bursts, many will attempt to eulogize the situation in terms of how we could’ve possibly known this would happen, and I want to be clear that I’m going to be reading and commenting on as many of them as I can find. I believe that once OpenAI collapses it’ll have a violent, punishing effect on the entire stock market, a precursor to a much greater drawdown as everybody accepts that the AI bubble has burst.  This view is shared by the Bank of England governor Andrew Bailey , who warned that the bursting of the AI bubble would have an effect on the UK economy, even though the UK economy — and the UK financial system — isn’t nearly as exposed to it as that of the United States, and would have significant enough effects to change British monetary policy, specifically, interest rates.  And I continue to stand by my belief that this company will die, though I can’t say when it’ll happen. The promises that Sam Altman has made at the scale that he’s made them are equal parts ridiculous and dangerous, leaving any counterparty somewhere between burned or destitute as a result.  There is no compelling story for any AI company once OpenAI dies. Other AI labs will suddenly have to explain how they avoid the same economical pitfalls while still showing the same aggressive growth projections promised by Sam Altman, and half-measures will no longer be acceptable. Their ability to secure credit — or even venture funding — will be met with impossible-to-answer questions about sustainability and profitability. Any startup connected to its models will suffer because it’ll be clear that any AI lab is a financial black hole, and it’ll become obvious that basically every AI startup is an unprofitable LLM wrapper. That should be obvious now, but nobody bothers to look. Any AI infrastructure company will have to pivot aggressively to open source models if they haven’t already, and realize that much of the demand for AI services came from brainless curiosity driven by the AI trade and market hype. CoreWeave, IREN, and the many circular-financed neoclouds will, much like AI labs, find themselves unable to secure funding, as the first question will be “how do you know your customers won’t die?” NVIDIA just won’t be able to justify selling as many GPUs, as it has repeatedly cited OpenAI (albeit without saying its name) as a proxy driver of sales via counterparties including Microsoft and Amazon. It’ll be a permanent blemish on a startup ecosystem that helped so many people become rich based on fictional or fanciful promises and projections, enabled and funded by venture capitalists that didn’t force founders to make stable or sustainable companies because it “always worked out before.” And I genuinely think this will create an accountability crisis in the media. I speak with readers and listeners every single day that are horrified about how many half-truths and outright lies are published and used as a means of propping up the AI bubble and the larger tech industry. The term “AI” has grown from a kind of technology to a cudgel wielded by the powerful to threaten and terrorize workers, all based on the outcomes from Large Language Models that simply do not do what their progenitors have promised and do not produce ROI or productivity benefits that are in any way measurable. The OpenAI Bubble inflated not because Sam Altman is a super-genius, but because he’s very, very good at telling people what they want to hear. He’ll give members of the media convincing-enough projections, said with the confidence ( or necessary fear ) necessary to sway the vast amounts of reporters who are excited to follow the next big hype cycle (or, put another way, are scared to miss out on it).  Altman knows the exact signifiers to use and the minimum viable product necessary to “prove” OpenAI’s worth — however many hundreds of millions of weekly active users, annualized run rates, gigawatts of data centers, vague promises of “abundance” and “intelligence too cheap to meter” that never actually resemble a tangible thing — that work to con reporters and investors who don’t want to think about anything but growth.  He’s also really, really good at playing on people’s greed, be it promising Satya Nadella he can build the next generation of cloud compute cash, Larry Ellison that he can make OCI bigger than Azure, and Masayoshi Son that he can birth a goose that lays golden, AI-labeled eggs.  Altman realized early on that the only way to sell AI was to talk about it in the future tense in a mixture of threats and promises, always subtly suggesting that those who follow the OpenAI gospel will be saved from the permanent underclass. And that same con worked on the minds of Silicon Valley founders who feel sore that they’ve yet to become an early employee of the next Apple, Google, Amazon or Microsoft, selling the dream of endless wealth under the auspices of “accelerationism” that really means “growth at all costs, usually billed to somebody else.” He and his acolytes have created a palpable mania in the Valley, convincing people that not using his software is a guarantee that they’ll be poverty-stricken imbeciles, and I think he’s fully aware of the fact that Silicon Valley is a dense monoculture that LARPs as a free thinker’s paradise. In the end, Altman is unlikely to suffer, at least anywhere near as much as those he’s misled or helped mislead. The scale of losses that the stock market may face scare me to the point I’m almost hoping I’m wrong, with the markets heavily dependent on eternal growth of the AI trade, as without NVIDIA selling more GPUs every quarter, it’s unlikely that anybody is going to be excited to invest in tech past the year 2028. All of this could’ve been stopped if those responsible for scrutinizing the powerful actually did their jobs, and spent more time doing that than critiquing the critics and repeating the promises of craven liars and billionaire scumbags. There were signs from the earliest days that this was all unsustainable, and the only reason it got this big was because the media and the markets fell behind a specious AI trade, empowering and enabling venture capitalists and hyperscalers to sink hundreds of billions of dollars into a doomed industry.  Whatever the AI industry achieves by the end of this farce will pale in comparison to the massive harms it has caused and will cause as a result, and for us to avoid this happening again, we need a fundamental reimagining of how the powerful are covered, how much effort is made to pry apart their plans, and accountability for those who either failed to stop them or actively assisted them. If I sound salty, it’s because I am worried about the regular people caught up in this madness — the tens of thousands of people that have suffered AI-washed layoffs , the hundreds of millions of people that invest in a global stock market dependent on the AI trade (for a taster, see what’s happened in Korea when the KOSPI dropped earlier in the week, forcing hundreds of thousands of retail investors to face margin calls ), those whose retirements and pensions and insurance annuities are tied up in private credit funds invested in AI data centers , and anyone of any kind who built their life around any promise made by Sam Altman and those that followed him.  I challenge those who are glibly dismissive of everything I say — who look for any smidgen of proof to dismiss hard numbers or clear economic issues — to truly think about the consequences of what I’ve written, and take the risk of the OpenAI Bubble seriously. Tech companies are not your friends, venture capitalists are not your saviors, Sam Altman doesn’t care if you live or die, and the AI industry — and Silicon Valley — will dump you the second that you stop being useful as an acolyte or booster.  I love technology, and credit it with making me a success and the person I’ve become, as well as connecting me to many people I love dearly. I believe that tech should be something that empowers, protects and enriches the human experience, something that’s sustainable and reliable and replicable and stable and makes human beings the same as a result.  The tech industry as it stands shows nothing but contempt for the user. Every tech product is somewhere between broken and buggy. The people that write about tech write for the companies far more than they write for those that pay them. Venture capitalists fund companies that they think they can sell to other companies or take public, which in turn means they fund things that are only attractive to people on Twitter or other venture capitalists. Big tech is unregulated, unrestrained, and works entirely to either enrich or fuck over shareholders depending on the day, and because the finance media has little interest in pushing back, they’ll continue to do so to the detriment of the markets and the retail investor. Everything comes back to a distinct selfishness and lack of responsibility across basically every part of the tech industry. The fact that AI has grown this large is a symptom that Silicon Valley needs to be restrained — that it can and will release dangerous, unreliable, unpredictable and unstable products at scale with little regard for the consequences, in part because it knows the media will celebrate it doing so if it can show user or revenue growth.  OpenAI is the company the tech industry deserves — a directionless company of questionable worth that grew in a vacuum of responsibility that exploits greed and ignorance at scale. And the tech industry will deserve exactly what it gets for coddling Sam Altman, and letting his empire grow this large. If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year, or $7 a month, and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words, including vast, detailed analyses of the biggest events and companies in the AI bubble.  As a reminder, if you sign up between now and XX July, you’ll get $10 off a subscription.  OpenAI’s collapse will be a direct result of its loss-laden economics — its doomed, loss-making subscriptions, its pathetic advertising revenue, and API costs that became a “huge issue” for its enterprise customers — and the fact that outside of the hype , AI lacks measurable ROI . When OpenAI eventually leaves CoreWeave, Cerebras, and Oracle in the lurch, there won’t be anyone else to pick up that compute.These are all debt-laden companies, and without meaningful revenues, they’ll struggle to service their obligations. When OpenAI dies — likely folding into Microsoft in the process — it will massively pull back on any and all compute demands, with the likely end of and free ChatGPT and a massive price bump across the board. OpenAI’s demise would also naturally call into question the rationality of investing in any AI startup. If the largest, best-funded, best-resourced company in the entire industry backed by the world’s largest software companies couldn’t make it, why would you believe somebody else would do so? The collapse of the largest company in the ecosystem would also seize up any and all AI data center debt (if any exists at that point), because the literal largest consumer of AI compute would be dead. On September 22, 2025, NVIDIA announced a “strategic partnership” to invest “up to $100 billion” and build 10GW of data centers with OpenAI, with the first gigawatt to be deployed in the second half of 2026. Where would the data centers go? How would OpenAI afford to build them? How would OpenAI build a gigawatt in less than a year? Don’t ask questions, pig!  NVIDIA’s stock bumped from from $175.30 to $181 in the space of a day. The media wrote about the story as if the deal was done, with CNBC claiming that “the initial $10 billion tranche [was] expected to close within a month or so once the transaction has been finalized.” I read at least ten stories that said that “NVIDIA had invested $100 billion.” This deal never happened. Three months later, the Wall Street Journal said that it was “on ice,” and two months after that , NVIDIA pledged to invest $30 billion in the company , and though NVIDIA mentioned investing $18.6 billion in “private companies and infrastructure funds…[including] AI model makers that may indirectly purchase or use our products in the cloud,” it’s unclear how much made it to OpenAI. On October 5, 2025, AMD announced that it had entered a “multi-year, multi-generation agreement” with OpenAI to build 6 GW of data centers, with “the first 1GW deployment set to begin in the second half of 2026,” calling the agreement “definitive” with terms that allowed OpenAI to buy up to 10% of AMD’s stock, vesting over “specific milestones” that started with the first gigawatt of data center development. Said data centers would also use AMD’s yet-to-be-released MI450 GPUs. The deal would, per Reuters , bring in “tens of billions of dollars of revenue.” AMD’s shares surged by 34% , with analyst Dan Ives of Wedbush saying that this was a “major valuation moment” for AMD.  I can find no tangible evidence that OpenAI has bought a single AMD GPU. While its most-recent 10K references a “product purchase agreement with OpenAI OpCo LLC,” and while you can sort of blame the rumoured delays of the MI450 GPUs OpenAI is supposedly buying , it’s weird that AMD hasn’t loudly mentioned this on every earnings call. It’s also weird that in February 2026, Meta and AMD signed a near-identical agreement . On October 13, 2025, Broadcom announced a 10 gigawatt deal with OpenAI , claiming that it would deploy 10GW of OpenAI-designed chips, with the first racks to deploy the second half of 2026 and the entire deployment completed by end of 2029. Broadcom's stock popped by 9% on the news about the 10GW deal, with CNBC adding that " the companies have been working together for 18 months . [emphasis mine, for a reason that will soon become obvious]"  On May 7, 2026 , The Information reported that Broadcom and OpenAI had yet to work out how to finance the initial purchase of its specialist chips. On June 24 2026 , OpenAI and Broadcom would announce the chip had been “developed from design to production in nine months,” the kind of blatant lie that you tell when you know nobody in the media is watching.  On December 11, 2025, The Walt Disney Company announced that it had reached a “ landmark agreement ” with OpenAI to bring its characters to Sora, adding that it would invest $1 billion in the company. The same day, Disney CEO Bob Iger and Sam Altman went on CNBC , with Iger adding that Disney “[wanted] to participate in what Sam is creating, what his team is creating,” and added that Disney “thought this is a good investment for the company.” It would also buy ChatGPT for the entire company. On March 24, 2026 , OpenAI announced Sora was dead, the deal was dead, and it’s unclear whether anything actually happened.

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How to stay in the coding flow using LLMs

We all know that moving to LLMs and agents has caused the feeling of losing touch with parts, or maybe even all, of a code base. This isn’t just something that is problematic for managing and handling the translation from business logic to implementation it is a problem because it feels exhausting . I’ve had coding sessions that lasted 12 hours and afterwards felt great. Meanwhile I’ve done LLM prompting for a few hours and felt exhausted or unsure of what I did. Lately I’ve been keeping this in mind and have been looking for a few ways in which I can maintain a flow state and take advantage of LLMs. Remember back in 2025 when this was the default way of using them? I actually still find this to be my preferred way. Using LLMs with code harnesses in projects injects so much unnecessary information that asking simple questions gets out control. For example, here I’m exploring some data, and I wanted a quick regex, I turned over to my VSCode chat window, and forgot that it was an agent, and asked it the question. It proceeds to start looking at the files, wanting to run code etc. All off target of what I need . So next I switched VSCode to “Ask” instead of agent, again the LLM is flooded with context about my project and proceeds to output a massive amount of distracting and off topic code suggestions. Switch to a browser chat window which has little to no context about what you’re working on and ask it my specific question, boom it spits out a few quick regexes for my Python list comprehension that are exactly what I need . Is this bad advice? Well, maybe. But was this what you’re already doing, definitely. But the point here is to multitask coding on more than one thing at a time. I’ve found that this keeps me in the flow state much better than if I let myself browse the news. So instead of switching from your agent -> browse social media switch between multiple projects. This depends on how your code / work is structured, but depending on the scope this means either switching between several agents in the same project or having several projects open at once. Types of positive multitasking to stay in the zone: For me, working on AppGoblin’s free ASO and mobile app ecosystem data , I have certain areas that *I* need to understand what is happening, for those reasons I do not let AI write anything more than boiler plate code. The clearest example of this I can give is SQL, where a lot of my most important relational logic exists. Sure, I can let an LLM one shot a complicated SQL and it will “work” but come weeks (or months!) later and I’ll find a complicated bug that slipped in. It’s not even necessarily about who was right/wrong in this situation, it’s that *I* need to know what’s going on in certain parts of the codebase. Something that ‘looks fine’ is a terrible feeling that later it was not what I wanted. This last one is probably best suited for other data crunchers out there, but it’s where I find a great sweet spot for staying in the zone. My favorite way to write code has always been to write code in an editor and send line to a REPL. This is also more or less how SQL gets written as well where you build queries in your SQL editor by slowly making changes to the data, checking values / assumptions and eventually getting to your final SQL query. With the LLMs, I find myself using this flow lately: It’s more or less the same as I did before, just a lot less writing and let’s me hold onto the difficult concepts longer. If you’re actually in the flow of editing code, the best way to augment your coding is with code completion. I’ve found this to be the most powerful in that I don’t even have to start letting my mind wander for how to do some boiler plate code, it just pops up automatically. I love this because it helps me think at a high level in the code without the distractions of trying to remember how to do something when the how is not the important part. Probably the only issue with this is that code completion can be quite annoying and distracting in some situations. For example, writing free form and handling imports at the top of a file are examples where LLM ‘helpful’ code completion is just not helpful. If you enjoyed this feel free to share. Working on related projects File and project cleanup. LLMs generate many extra files and code and it’s best to stay on top of that yourself. Go through and delete extra files. Try asking LLMs for advice on what to remove, but do be careful with this idea. Tell LLM to write new code for processing data Step through the code my self line by line, checking the hotspots where I know assumptions / tricky data might be

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Microsoft Patches a Record 570 Security Flaws

Microsoft Corp. today released software updates to plug at least 570 security holes in its Windows operating systems and other software, almost triple the number of vulnerabilities the software giant fixed in its record-smashing Patch Tuesday release last month. Microsoft attributed the burgeoning patch counts to vulnerability discoveries aided by artificial intelligence. Nearly 60 of the bugs quashed in July’s Patch Tuesday earned a “critical” severity rating, meaning miscreants or malware could use them to seize remote control over a Windows device with little or no help from the user. Microsoft also addressed three zero-day flaws, including two that are already being exploited in the wild. Two of the zero-day weaknesses allow an attacker to elevate their user rights on a Windows system, as do approximately 250 other elevation of privilege flaws fixed this month; they include CVE-2026-56155 — an Active Directory Federation Services bug — and CVE-2026-56164 , a Microsoft Sharepoint vulnerability. CVE-2026-50661 is a security feature bypass in Windows BitLocker that could allow attackers to gain access to encrypted data if they have physical access to the device. Microsoft said this bug has been detailed publicly, but that it is not aware of any active exploitation. In a blog post on July 9, Microsoft Executive Vice President Pavan Davuluri wrote that Windows users will notice “a higher volume of security updates included in each security release” as a result of AI aiding in the discovery of vulnerabilities. “The pace of vulnerability discovery is changing with advances in AI making it possible to find more issues, faster, across more code, with new mechanisms that can accelerate both discovery and analysis,” Davuluri wrote . Jack Bicer , director of vulnerability research at Action1 , called attention to CVE-2026-48561 , a remote code execution flaw in Microsoft Copilot (with a 9.6 CVSS threat score) that allows an unauthorized attacker to execute code over the network. Microsoft says an attacker could exploit this bug by hosting a malicious website that causes Microsoft Edge for Android to automatically send crafted prompts to Copilot when a user visits the site. As AI advances the state of vulnerability discovery and remediation, it is also making it easier for attackers to quickly devise working exploits for known software flaws. Microsoft has long labeled security bugs using its “exploitability index,” which is Redmond’s best guess as to how likely it is that attackers will be able to figure out a reliable way to exploit a given vulnerability. But Satnam Narang , senior staff research engineer at Tenable , argues that Microsoft’s exploitability index needs to do a better job of shifting with the machine speed of discovery. For example, Microsoft originally gave this month’s SharePoint zero-day an exploitability rating of “less likely,” although the flaw was added to CISA’s Known Exploited Vulnerabilities list on July 1. “Anthropic’s Red Team’s own findings for known vulnerabilities (n-days) revealed how fragile this system has become, with its Mythos Preview model being able to produce proof-of-concept exploits for 13 of 14 vulnerabilities that were rated ‘Exploitation Less Likely’ or ‘Exploitation Unlikely,'” Narang said. “What this means is that our way of looking at Patch Tuesday has changed, because the exploitability index is centered around humans, not AI tools, and as these tools continue to improve, defense needs to improve alongside it.” Chris Goettl at Ivanti observed that the record patch numbers from Microsoft come as a number of other major software makers are increasing their patch cadence, including Adobe which announced today it is moving to twice-monthly security bulletins published on the 2nd and 4th Tuesday of each month (Adobe also cited AI for accelerating their patch cycles). Cisco , Mozilla and Oracle also are shipping updates more frequently, while Google’s patch batches in June 2026 totaled more than 900 security fixes, Goettl noted. Backing up your Windows system and/or data is always a good idea before applying operating system updates. Given the volume of patches addressed this month it may be wise for end users to wait a few days before applying these fixes. It’s not uncommon for security patches to introduce system stability issues, and those chances probably increase quite a bit with the gigantic patch count released today. Further reading: Action1’s Patch Tuesday blog Automox’s rundown

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Pete Warden 2 days ago

Launching Moonshine Micro

Long-time readers will know I’m convinced local voice interfaces and sub-$1 embedded chips will fundamentally change how we interact with everything in the physical world. That’s why I’m so excited to introduce Moonshine Micro , a version of the Moonshine Voice open source framework that can run a useful voice interface in just 520KB of RAM. It contains separate libraries for voice-activity detection , speech to text , and text to speech , all powered by tiny neural networks with an example bringing them all together on an 80 cent Raspberry Pi RP2350 chip . I’m still working towards the end goal of the moonshot I started at Google Brain in 2017, a full ASR and TTS system on a 50 cent chip that can run on a coin battery for a year, but this is a big milestone on the journey. This release runs a 50-word command recognizer, that’s fully trainable for custom words , and a neural network-based text to speech engine, and can be used to set up a wifi connection. There’s still a lot of work to do to increase the scope of the recognition to full speech, rather than individual words, increase the text to speech quality, and to offer advanced intent recognition on this kind of system, but with the hardware improvements that are likely to come over the next few years, I think we’re getting a lot closer. I’m looking forward to seeing applications I’d never thought of for this technology, so if you build something neat please tag me on Hackster, and for questions or issues let me know on GitHub .

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Martin Fowler 2 days ago

DSLs Enable Reliable Use of LLMs

LLMs generate code incredibly fast, but to ensure they generate exactly what is intended, they need clear boundaries. Abstractions and Domain-Specific Languages (DSLs) provide a strong harness that guides LLMs right from the start. Unmesh Joshi describes how the example of Tickloom - a domain model and DSL for illustrating distributed system behavior - shows how we can use an LLM as a partner to iteratively build a DSL and as a natural language interface to use it. Such a DSL can act as the key source of truth for software systems in the world of LLMs.

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Stratechery 2 days ago

The OpenAI Super App, ChatGPT = Codex, Whither Chat

OpenAI has refashioned Codex as the new ChatGPT; is the company abandoning the chat category they pioneered?

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9 months in: building an advanced StarCraft reporting tool with Go & Claude

The story of how I built screpdb, an advanced StarCraft: Brood War replay reporting tool, using Go & Claude over 9 months, and what AI could and couldn’t do along the way.

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DYNOMIGHT 2 days ago

Pseudpocalypse

Here’s a conjecture: If you put any significant amount of text on the internet under different names, those identities can be linked using only the text itself. This is possible (I conject) because of the statistical “fingerprint” you leave in everything you write. Imagine a website where you can paste in some brand-new text someone just wrote. In return, the website provides links to all the text that writer has ever published under any name. It’s not perfect, but it’s pretty good. As far as I know, no such website exists—at least not on the public internet. But I suspect it’s possible and will soon become easy. This will pose some difficulty for pseudonymous blogging. Note : I wrote most of this essay in mid-2025, after which I idiotically sat on it for a year tinkering with theorem statements that none of you will read. 1 In the meantime, LLMs have gotten much better at guessing authors from text. (Given the first 1000 words of a draft of this post, Claude 4.8 knows it’s me.) Still, I think we’re just getting started. I expect to see increasingly obscure writers identified from increasingly small bits of text. I expect that this work even when people are writing in a different register or about unrelated subjects. And I expect that everything I’ve ever written under any pseudonym will soon be linked to my genuine-nym. 2 A stronger conjecture is that we’re heading towards a sort of generalized pseudpocalypse. Perhaps, in the future, if you interact with the world through essentially any high-bandwidth channel, then you identify yourself. Say you wear a mask in public and only speak by sub-vocalizing into a voice changer. That’s fine, you’ll still be identified using your body shape, gait, or chemical signature. Or say you don’t like your car being tracked everywhere, so you stop carrying a phone and you somehow convince lawmakers to ban license plates. No problem, your car will still be tracked using tiny scratches or unique pinging sounds from the engine. Or say you don’t like being tracked on the internet, so you lock down your browser profile, buy stuff only with Monero, and connect through a chain of three VPNs. That’s OK. You’ll still be identified through how you wiggle your finger as you scroll down the page. We’re all just too unique, and the information theoretic limit is coming for us. Let’s start from first principles. Imagine that at birth, everyone is assigned a random binary string. Whenever you post anything on the internet, you’re required to sign it with that string. If the strings are very short, like , then lots of other people will have the same one as you. But if the strings are very long, then yours would almost certainly be unique and it would be trivial to link all your pseudonyms. Where’s the transition point? If you only know that the author is currently alive and living somewhere in the Anglosphere, it’s around 29 bits. That’s because if there are K digits, then there are 2ᴷ possible binary strings, and if K = 28.86, then 2ᴷ ≈ 490,000,000 is the number of currently-alive Anglosphere-dwellers. If the strings have fewer than 29 bits, then someone else will probably share your string. If they have more than 29 bits, then your string is probably unique. We don’t (yet?) have to sign the things we write with immutable government-issued strings. But the way you write still provides lots of clues about you by way of your tone, personality, word choice, and so on. Theoretically speaking, I think it has to be possible to link the identities of anyone who writes enough. Imagine again that everyone is assigned a random binary string at birth, but instead of you needing to sign the stuff you write with your string, each time you write a word, there’s some chance that a random bit from your string is revealed and added as a signature to your message. For example, maybe a signature of is added, indicating that your string at position 129 has value 1. Think of your string as representing all your writing style quirks, and a bit being revealed as representing when you write something that reveals a preference. For example, maybe bit 18 indicates if you prefer to write your em-dashes with hideous spaces — like this — or without spaces—like this. If you use an em-dash, that bit is revealed. So imagine you’ve written a lot under Pseudonym A, enough that the full bit-string has been revealed. Maybe it’s this: Now say you start writing under Pseudonym B. Initially, none of the bits will be known: But slowly, you’ll start to leak a few bits: And eventually you’ll leak a lot of bits: Now think about this from the perspective of an “attacker” who wants to know if A and B are the same person. Let’s assume they’ve only seen the above bits, and have no information about anyone else. Then here’s what the attacker knows: Intuitively, if K was 5, then the fact that all bits match wouldn’t prove much, since with 490 million people, lots of people would match on those bits by chance. But if K was 70, it’s extremely unlikely that two different people would share all of them, even with such a gigantic pool to start with. It turns out that if there are N other people with random bits, and you pick K of your bits, the probability that someone exists who matches all of them is 1 - (1-2⁻ᴷ)ᴺ. When N is 490 million, that looks like this: Look at that, 29 appears again. (Isn’t math wonderful?) In general, the transition happens around whatever number of bits K makes 2ᴷ ≈ N, namely K = log₂(N). If you reveal significantly fewer than 29 bits under pseudonym B, then it’s almost guaranteed that there’s someone else out there who matches all of them. But if you reveal significantly more than 29 bits, then there’s almost no chance that anyone else exists who matches all of them. So the attacker essentially knows that A and B are the same person. And I stress again: They know that without needing to see anything from the other 490 million people. Of course, we don’t literally leak bits of immutable feature strings as we write. But you can make the model more realistic, and the same issue persists. If you want to reflect that text only provides noisy information about the writer, then you can add noise to the bits before they’re revealed. If you want to reflect that some writing styles are more common than others, then you can make the distribution over bit strings non-uniform. If you want to reflect that certain quirks are more obvious than others, you can give different bits different probabilities of being revealed. All these make the math more complicated. But they don’t change the basic conclusion: If your writing style contains at least 29 bits of information, and you do enough writing, you’re done. That’s my argument that pseudpocalypse is possible. But I don’t just want to claim that it could happen, eventually. I think it is likely to happen, soon, and that the amount of text you need to reveal isn’t very large. To make that argument, we need to get specific: What features do people have that are reflected in their writing? How many bits of information do those features contain? How accurately can those bits be guessed from written text? Note : To avoid this turning into a giant information theory lecture, I’ll mostly use words like “bit” and “information” without being 100% fully precise about what they mean. I’m doing that because I expect that most people reading this aren’t definition-of-bit fetishists, and anyway being hyper-technical would obscure the big picture. If you’re an information theory enthusiast and/or skeptical that I know what I’m doing, I refer you to the Section For Skeptical Information Theory Enthusiasts, below. Until then, use your intuition and have faith. Say you knew nothing about me other than that I wrote the above words. And say you had to guess my age or religion or occupation. You could guess , right? It wouldn’t be perfect, but you’d do much better than you would without being able to read those words. Thus, somehow, those words contain information about my demographic characteristics. So I tried to make a list of similar things that you could plausibly guess from text at least somewhat better then chance. Here’s what I came up with: In the same spirit, if you only read the above words, could you guess how extroverted or conscientious I am? Again, not perfectly. (When I meet people who read this blog, they usually seem surprised I can survive direct sunlight.) But still, I’m sure you’d do OK. So, again, these words contain information about my personality. What features does personality have? The HEXACO model lists six, namely honesty-humility, emotionality, extraversion, agreeableness, conscientiousness, and openness to experience. I suspect those can all be guessed with reasonable accuracy from a long-enough writing sample. But could you guess more? For each of those six factors, the HEXACO model lists four “facets”. In the abstract, trying to guess 6 × 4 = 24 different personality features from text sounds ludicrous, but just look at them: If you think about specific people, I think you can convince yourself that these 24 represent real things, and that it’s plausible to guess them from text. (Your favorite existential angst + science blogger, for example, might score lower on “modesty” than the other honesty-humility facets.) The different sub-factors are surely correlated, but not perfectly correlated. Of course, the biggest thing you learn from people’s writing is how they write . Do they tend to pointlessly split infinitives? Do they use hyphen-connected words? Do they, incorrectly, position their adverbial clauses? The idea of attributing authorship using writing style features goes back to at least 1440, when Lorenzo Valla demonstrated that the Donation of Constantine —in which Emperor Constantine supposedly donated the Roman Empire to the Catholic Church—used a vernacular that came from 400 years after Constantine’s death and was therefore a forgery. In 1851, Augustus De Morgan observed that average word length tends to be stable for the same author. The first “modern” attempt seemingly came in 1964, when Mosteller and Wallace published Inference in an Authorship Problem : This study [attempts] to solve the authorship question of The Federalist papers; […] Word counts are the variables used for discrimination. Since the topic written about heavily influences the rate with which a word is used, care in selection of words is necessary. The filler words of the language such as an , of , and upon , and, more generally, articles, preposition, and conjunctions provide fairly stable rates, whereas more meaningful words like war , executive , and legislature do not. After an investigation of the distribution of these counts, the authors execute an analysis […] based on Bayesian methods. The conclusions about the authorship problem are that Madison rather than Hamilton wrote all 12 of the disputed papers. Get that? The idea is that your usage of the word war depends mostly on if you happen to be talking about war. But your usage of upon mostly depends mostly on how much you like the word upon . To demonstrate this, they took 48 papers written by Hamilton and 50 by Madison and made this table of how many times they used by , from , and to : Madison liked by . Hamilton was more a to man. Using these kinds of statistics, they concluded that the disputed Federalist papers must have been written by Madison. So I did some research looking for other writing style features that are believed to be stable when people write about different subjects. I found that there are a lot. There were so many that I struggle to even organize them into meaningful groups: Low-level frequencies: Lexical features: Syntactic features: Style features: Rule preference features: Idiosyncratic features: That’s a lot. There are surely more. And these are all “shallow” features that humans came up with using our tiny little brains. I strongly suspect that there are many more “deep” features that could be found by looking for statistical patterns in a sufficiently large dataset. Many of those features might not even have a coherent English-language description. But they’re still there, providing bits for those who seek them. So we leak information about lots of different stuff when we write. But how much information? Is it possible to say how many words are needed to uniquely fingerprint someone? No. To a first approximation, the answer is no. But to a second approximation, maybe? Within an order of magnitude? I’ll try, but it’s going to be hard. How many bits of identifying information does text provide by way of demographic features like age and sex and so on? At first glance, this seems a perilous question, as it depends on the number of categories you consider those things to have. Take sex. For pseudpocalypse purposes, your opinion about how sex should be defined or how many sexes exist is irrelevant. Finer categorizations always provide more information, and our de-pseudonymizing attacker friends will use that information if they can. However, going beyond two categories for sex makes little difference, because the additional categories will be hard to guess and even if you could, categories with low prevalence don’t contribute much extra information. 3 So, for us, two categories is the right answer. And what about age? At first glance, converting age into a set of categories seems meaningless. If you code age by the millisecond, then there are 3.156 trillion categories for people born in the last 100 years. If you code age by the decade, there are only 10. Here, the thing to notice is that while you might be able to guess my decade of birth from how I write, you don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of guessing the millisecond. (See what I did there? People born in certain decades are more likely to use expressions like snowball’s chance in hell ? 4 ) If we took age to have some crazy number of categories, we’d have to discount later to reflect the difficulty of guessing. My intuition is that it would be hard to guess age more accurately than around five years, so 20 categories seems reasonable. Following this kind of logic, I chose a number of categories for each of the demographic variables, trying to hit the upper end of what could be guessed from text. (I’ll provide the actual categories below.) If each of the age bins were equally likely, then knowing what bin someone fell into would provide 4.32 bits of information, because 2ᴷ ≈ 20 when K = 4.32. Doing that same calculation for each feature gives the maximum amount of information they could contain. But there’s a problem. There are more people aged 30-35 than there are people aged 90-95. So, even if you could guess those age bins perfectly, they’d provide less than 4.32 bits of information on average. However, it turns out that categories need to get pretty damned uneven before information content drops very much. A perfectly balanced 50/50 distribution provides 1 bit of information, but if you switch to a 60/40 distribution, you still get 0.971 bits, and you need to go almost to 90/10 before information content drops to 0.5 bits. 5 The same basic thing is true when there are more than two categories. 6 So I went through all those features, rated them by how unevenly people are distributed, and tried to discount the bits accordingly. I’ve put the full details of what the original categories are and how I discounted them in a footnote. 7 But there’s another problem. Female 65 to 70 year-old Asians living in Scotland tend to have different {occupations, family statuses, religious affiliations} than 15 to 20 year-old Latinos living in Southeast Australia. That is, the above features are correlated. So as you look at more of them, they gradually become less surprising and thus contribute less information. How much less? Answering that the right way would require us to estimate how likely someone is to fall into each of the 20 × 6 × 6 × 2 × 11 × 3 × 3 × 2 × 23 × 3 × 3 × 23 × 3 × 2 = 8,144,737,920 joint categories. That seems hard. But a not-completely-ridiculous approximation is that if a group of variables are all pairwise correlated at a level of ρ>0, then the total information might be reduced by a fraction of ρ. 8 So how correlated are those features? In the social sciences, a correlation of 0.5 is considered quite high. That’s plausible for some pairs of variables, e.g. age vs. health or political leaning vs. religious affiliation. But many of those correlations are are probably quite weak, e.g. age vs. native language or region vs. sex vs. marital status. 9 Overall, my guess is that correlations reduce the total information by at least 10% but I doubt they reduce it by more than 60%. So I’d think the total information in the above features (if you could guess the categories perfectly) is somewhere between 10.6 and 23.9 bits. Let’s take the average and call it 17.2 bits. What about personality features? Let’s use the same same recipe we used for demographic features, but faster: To start, let’s give each of the 24 personality features five bins, in deference to dynomight personality notation . That would correspond to 24 × 2.32 = 55.68 bits total, because 2ᴷ ≈ 5 when K = 2.32. Then we need to discount for correlations. The six main HEXACO personality factors are designed to be uncorrelated, but the different “facets” inside each factor are correlated (usually with a coefficient between 0.3 and 0.6). It seems reasonable to use an overall discount factor of 0.3 to reflect strong intra-factor correlations but weak inter-factor correlations. That suggests 39.0 bits overall. And what about writing style features? How much information do they contain? This seems hard. Some of the features, like character n-grams are actually themselves long lists of features. (Frequency of typing , frequency of typing , etc.) However, many of those features contain little information, since almost everyone types around 0% of the time. And, of course, writing style features are correlated, since people who write instead of are less likely to put spaces around their em-dashes. In absence of a better idea, I’m going to give one bit for each leaf node in the above list of style features. I think of this as giving each feature two bins, and then assuming that uneven distributions of features and correlations (which reduce information) are canceled out by the fact that many features deserve more than one bin and that there are probably more “deep” features that aren’t listed (which increase information). This gives us the suspiciously round number of 50.0 bits. If you believe the above numbers, then we have at least 17.2 + 39.0 + 50.0 = 106.2 bits of identifying information that we leave clues about when we write. That’s a lot. If you could see all those features, it would be enough to identify people even on a planet with 93 million trillion trillion people. But to argue that the pseudpocalypse is nigh, it’s not enough to argue that those bits exist. We need to argue that they can and will be guessed from a relatively small amount of text. So obviously we need to talk about nuclear weapons. In a nuclear detonation, many unstable atoms are created. These spontaneously decay into more-stable atoms, in the process emitting radiation. Some types of atoms are very eager to decay, meaning they release a lot of radiation but stop existing within a few weeks (iodine-131). Others are reluctant to decay, meaning they don’t release as much radiation but they stick around for decades (strontium-90). Others stick around for millions of years, but they produce so little radiation that they’re not a big problem (cesium-135). 10 So, the residual radiation produced after a nuclear detonation is the sum of many different exponential curves, one for each isotope created during the detonation. I suspect that identifying bits in text are sort of like that. Your level of formality and your average sentence length are revealed almost immediately. Your preference for latinate vs. germanic words takes a while to come through. And your social boldness and the fact that you live in Queensland rather than Southeast Australia are revealed very slowly, perhaps so slowly that it’s effectively not revealed at all. Right. So if you start with 106.2 bits, how many of those do you reveal after writing a given number of words? I will answer that question through the noble method of making up numbers. But first, let’s calibrate. You just read 4500 words written by me. How well could you guess my demographic and personality features? As a sanity check, I gave the above words to an LLM and asked it to guess. It did unnervingly well. It wasn’t always right, but it usually was, and it did a great job of rating the confidence of the individual predictions. I don’t think there’s any magical explanation for this. The fact is, if you look at the individual personality and demographic features, guessing them just isn’t that hard. So I’m sure you could do just as well. And given enough time, I’m pretty sure you’d do even better for writing style features. Even so, you’re probably bad at it. Take the example of GeoGuessr , where people guess a location in the world from a random photo. Random people are sort of OK, but if you pick the top natural talents and have them practice obsessively, they’re really good. I don’t think LLMs are particularly good at guessing features from text, either. They weren’t trained for it. It’s just an emergent property of their general intelligence. The information-theoretic limit is surely much higher. So here’s a very rough cut: After 4500 words, I’d think it’s possible to guess around: If we model each of those with a separate exponential, and start them at 17.2 / 39.0 / 50.0 bits, then the total number of identifying bits that remain hidden after writing a given number of words is as plotted here: 11 Et voilà , pseudonymity is compromised when you leak 29 bits, which happens after 1071 words. Of course not. The above figure stands on a creaking tower of tenuous assumptions. I’ve gone through the details of deriving that curve not because you should trust it, but because I think seeing the calculations makes the following points hard to argue with: I’ve made lots of debatable choices in terms of choosing features, assigning numbers of categories, estimating distributions across those categories, discounting for correlations, and guessing how many bins can be guessed. Those choices are all individually suspect. But the above points are supported by a pretty wide margin of error. You can make different choices, but it seems very hard to avoid concluding that the above three points are true. 12 You might be wondering why I’m using so many made-up numbers. After all, there’s a whole field devoted to identifying authors from text, usually called “stylometry” or “authorship attribution”. They have research papers and competitions and all that. However, as best I can tell, state of the art published results look something like this: That sounds OK, but that’s only identifying people against a pool of ~50 authors. For my claim to be true, similar accuracy would have to be possible with 490 million people. That’s seven orders of magnitude more. The thing is, the methods those papers are using are extremely weak. All the above math assumes that you’re operating at the “information-theoretic limit”, making perfect use of all available information. If you want to get close to that, we now have some idea how to do it: You apply the “modern” machine learning recipe of gigantic dataset + gigantic neural network + gigantic fortune spent on GPUs. My guess is that for us, that would require something on the order of “all the words ever written” + “tens of billions of parameters” + “tens of millions of dollars”. I couldn’t find a single paper that came remotely close to attempting that. So I don’t think those papers tell us much, for the same reason that a 3rd-order Markov model trained on a few books doesn’t tell us much about how good computers could be at writing text. LLMs have shown that if you use the above recipe, then computers can get close to the information-theoretic limit for generating text. 13 So, I suspect that an LLM-level effort could achieve the same thing for identifying authors. You might also wonder: Why am I talking about this as some possible future technology? Isn’t that technology just LLMs? I suspect the technology will be quite LLM-like in how it models human language. But current general-purpose LLMs aren’t trained for this task. They’re good at it “by accident”. So, just like specialized chess AIs can crush LLMs at chess, I suspect specialized stylometry methods could crush general-purpose LLMs at stylometry. It’s just that those specialized stylometry methods don’t seem to exist yet, or at least aren’t public. 14 So we shouldn’t imagine that current LLMs are anything close to what’s possible, even if you assume that generic LLM progress stopped today. 15 If this is all true, what could be done about it? The most obvious “countermeasure” would be to get used to it. I mean, imagine that we did live in a world in which everyone literally had to sign everything they wrote with a unique immutable string. What would happen? I’d expect a mixture of: There are strong historical analogies here, since over the past 20 years many governments and tech companies have in fact decreed that people must sign the things they write with their real names. The effects seem to vary quite a lot based on the ambient culture and political system. Overall, my impression is that people are already much more comfortable with the idea that their work colleagues might read their dating profile or learn that they go to furry conventions. I’m optimistic that culture will continue to adapt to respect the fact that we all encompass multitudes. This seems healthy. Some effects seem clearly positive. Self-censoring is not necessarily bad. For example, on the margin, real-names surely stop some teenagers from engaging in cyber-bullying. On the other hand, were you ever a teenager? I’m pretty sure that for anyone who is “different”, having those differences broadcast to the world creates a much larger “bullying surface area”. So the effects are mixed. And adults aren’t as different from teenagers as we might like to think. Twenty years ago, I might have predicted that real names would discourage people from expressing controversial political ideas online. Superficially, that seems completely wrong. At least in the West, lots of people are very happy to express minority political views, and if you disagree at all, then you can go to hell. But I also tend to think this hides a lot of self-censorship, where most people don’t want engage in political mortal combat and so are cowed by a feisty minority. And, obviously, people in certain countries know that it’s unwise to criticize the Party. So, getting used to it seems like an imperfect solution at best. Another countermeasure would be to not build this technology, or not make it widely available. In the short term, this seems plausible. As far as I can tell, it’s been possible for years for a modestly-funded group to build a phone app that would identify most people on the street from a photo. And yet, almost no one reading this has access to such an app. If general-purpose LLMs continue to get better at stylometry, it seems entirely possible that AI companies might decide it’s a safety issue and train their AIs to refuse to do it. 16 This could work for a while. But if the technology is possible, it seems certain that governments will build it and use it. They might try to keep it out of the hands of normal people. Certain governments might restrict their own use. My privacy-minded allies always seem very jaded, but it wouldn’t surprise me at all if the Supreme Court declared that a warrant was needed before the FBI could de-pseudonymize a U.S. citizen. But when/if that technology becomes sufficiently cheap, it seems like it would be very difficult to keep it out of the hands of normal people and/or bad actors. My guess is that it’s possible to create a program that’s a few hundred gigabytes large and can run (slowly) on most modern laptops. If that program is made public, it would be hard to put the genie back in the bottle. There are also technological countermeasures. Most obviously, you could run your writing through a “filter” to try to remove identifying bits, e.g. by asking an LLM to rewrite it. It’s hard to be sure how well this would work, since we don’t have accurate estimates of how many bits you’re starting with or how many bits this would remove. But I’d guess this would be pretty effective if done carefully. The reason is that the number of identifying bits you leave in writing probably isn’t that large, relative to the number needed to identify you. If you “homogenize” your writing to remove all style and personality, you should be able to remove most of those bits. Theoretically, you’ll still leak some information. But I’d think this would substantially increase the amount you could write while remaining pseudonymous. 17 But after thinking about it, this makes me sad. Effectively, this countermeasure would preserve pseudonymity by taking writing and destroying all traces of humanity. It seems like this would work well for the “bad” uses of pseudonymity, like cyber-bullying or coordinated violence, but it wouldn’t work at all for the “good” uses, like for example someone who likes to write pseudonymously because they feel like it allows them to be more honest and vulnerable and more fully themselves, damn it. Maybe this isn’t just true for writing. Maybe it’s just a feature of our universe that if you interact with the world in any significant way, then you leave traces that make it possible to identify you. If you walk around in public, then you can likely be identified by your face, your gait, your voice, your DNA, your retinas, or your literal fingerprints. Or say you use the internet. Even if you lock down your browser fingerprint and hide your IP address using a VPN or Tor, a sufficiently powerful adversary could still identify you by analyzing global packet flow. Or say you use any phone or computer. You might be identified through keystroke dynamics or the way you jiggle your finger or mouse. Say you buy food at the grocery store, but you pay with cash and somehow shop at a grocery store with no cameras. If you buy more than a handful of items, I’d bet you can still be identified through the patterns in the stuff you buy. (Incidentally, did you ever notice that cash has serial numbers on it? And did you know that more and more ATMs are starting to track those numbers?) Or say you don’t like your car being tracked, so you stop carrying a phone and somehow get lawmakers to outlaw license plates. Still, your car surely has a few small unique scratches, and the engine probably doesn’t sound exactly the same as other cars, even from the same model and year. So if there’s any high-resolution video or audio, that’s still enough to track you. Say you plug your headphones into a charging station at the airport. Your headphones have eccentricities in their analog charging circuits. If someone really wanted to, they could track that. Or say you use electricity. Given high-resolution power-usage data, what can be said about how many people live with you? And what devices you’re using? Probably a lot? Or say you use a toilet. Many places already test sewage and know, at a population level, what drugs people are using and how prevalent various diseases are. Imagine this was upgraded to test many places in the system, with high temporal resolution, possibly correlated with flow measurements from individual houses. That would be exciting. Or say you are a country and you have submarines. Can they be detected by adversaries using distributed acoustic sensing? What about satellite-based synthetic aperture radar? Gravity Gradiometers? Quantum magnetometry? As far as I can tell, the general trend is that without countermeasures, almost everything can be identified. Countermeasures can make it harder, but they’re costly, and on the whole, the arms race seems to favor the identifier, not the person who doesn’t want to be identified. I stress: This is not all bad. The goodness / badness of a generalized pseudpocalypse depends on how society is structured. After all, the foundation of civilization is finding ways for people to make deals, and arguably less privacy makes that easier. The degree that we live in a vulnerable world where it’s easy to create civilization-destroying technologies, perhaps we’re very lucky to find ourselves in a non-private world. Still, I do worry that privacy has long provided a kind of “slack” from laws and norms. Historically, that slack has limited the power of institutions to enforce their rules. If privacy is going away, we need to think about how to preserve slack, particularly when institutions don’t want to. Above, I tried to estimate the number of bits of identifying information in writing. But what is a “bit”? In general, if x is a discrete random variable, then the Shannon entropy of x in bits is H(x) = ∑ₓ p(x) log₂(1/p(x)) , where the sum is over all the values x can take. This is always bounded between zero and the logarithm of the number of values x can take. That’s fine, but “writing style” is not a discrete variable with a discrete number of categories. So how can I estimate the entropy of writing style? The short answer is that I can’t. What I’ve actually estimated above is the mutual information between writing and writing style. Let s be a random variable representing writing style. Think of this as some sort of high dimensional continuous vector representing all the quirks of how different people write. And let x be a writing sample of some length. This is discrete because we can represent writing on digital computers. Then what I’ve estimated above is the mutual information I(x;s) = H(x) - H(x|s) , where H(x|s) is the conditional entropy of x given s . This can be measured in bits because both H(x) and H(x|s) can be measured in bits. So that’s what my estimate above really says: I(x;s) ≈ 106.2 bits . Now, you still might be skeptical. Above, I’ve implicitly assumed something like the following was true: It’s possible to identify one person out of N possibilities with low accuracy if and only if the mutual information between identifying features and writing is at least log₂(N) bits. That’s how I justified pseudonymity being compromised around 29 bits. But is it really true? Strictly speaking, no. Actually, even more strictly speaking, it’s “not even untrue” because it’s not precise enough to be true or false. But as far as I can tell, basically any precise version of that statement is false. However, it’s possible to find versions of that statement that are true, provided you add some extra not-too-crazy assumptions. To start, let’s consider an extremely simple model of information leakage. Theorem. Suppose the world consists of you plus N other people, and suppose each person has a binary identity string, drawn at uniform from the distribution over M -bit binary strings. All these strings are known to the attacker. Suppose you pick some subset of K bits and reveal them. Then the probability that this identifies you is Furthermore, in order to hold the probability of being identified below (1-1/N)ᴺ ≈ exp(-1) ≈ 36.7% , it is necessary that K ≤ log₂(N) . Proof. The probability that all K observed features collide with any random person in the crowd is 2⁻ᴷ . Thus, the probability of no collisions after checking the crowd of N people (meaning you are the only one matching the observed features) is (1-2⁻ᴷ)ᴺ . □ That’s simple. But it’s not realistic at all, since it assumes that people have immutable binary strings that they leak into their writing. Can we make it more realistic? Well, there is a simple lower bound. That is, we can say in general that if the mutual information is significantly less than log₂(N) , then it’s not possible to reliably identify someone. Theorem. Suppose N random people are selected and their full writing style features are made public. One person from that group is chosen and produces a writing sample. Then, the attacker must guess who produced it. The average success rate of the attacker (averaged over the random pool, the random choice of author, and the random writing sample) is at most (I(x;s)+1)/log₂(N) . Proof. Let S=(s₁, s₂, s₃, …) be the pool of N styles and let n be a random variable indicating which person was chosen. Fano’s inequality says that the highest possible success rate is bounded by the conditional mutual information between the writing sample x and the identity n , conditioning on the pool of writing styles, i.e. the probability of success is at most (I(x;n|S)+1)/log₂(N) . However, we can bound that conditional mutual information as I(x;n|S) ≤ I(x;n,S) = I(x;n,sₙ) = I(x;sₙ) = I(x;s). The first inequality is standard. The second step uses the fact that given n , the writing x is conditionally independent of all styles except the chosen writer. The third step uses the fact that n is conditionally independent of x given sₙ . The last step uses that (x,sₙ) is distributed as (x,s) . Substituting this bound gives the claimed result. □ So, if mutual information is much less than log₂(N) , reliable identification is impossible, even if the attacker knows all the style vectors perfectly. So, provided you don’t leak that many bits, you’re definitely safe. But is the converse true? Does leaking more than log₂(N) bits always identify you? The general answer is no . The basic problem is that I(x;s) is the average information that an average person leaks in an average writing sample. Without further assumptions, you can construct scenarios where some rare people and writing samples contain gigantic amounts of information, but most people usually leak nothing. That would mean that the attacker is very certain in some cases but usually learns nothing. So, to get a guarantee that identification is actually possible, you need to make some kind of additional assumption that the information leakage rate doesn’t vary too much between different writers or between different things they write. Suppose that p(x,s) is the joint distribution over writing styles s and writing samples x . Let’s suppose that the attacker knows the true style vector ŝ for some person. Then, they will be given a writing sample x that either came from that person or came from a randomly chosen person, and must decide which. Formally, the attacker’s goal is to guess if x was sampled from the writing distribution for that person, p(x|ŝ) or from the population marginal p(x) . Intuition suggests that the attacker’s best strategy will be to look at the ratio p(x|ŝ)/p(x), and “accept” x as coming from ŝ if above some threshold, and reject it otherwise. In fact, the Neyman-Pearson lemma guarantees that this is the optimal strategy, in a very strong sense: That ratio contains all the information that’s useful for making that decision. Now here’s something interesting: Instead of looking at the ratio, the attacker could look at the logarithm of the ratio. It makes no difference since it’s monotonic. But if you take the logarithm of that ratio, and take the expectation over people and over texts, what do you get? Well: 𝔼 ln (p(x|s)/p(x)) = 𝔼 ln (p(x,s)/(p(x) p(s))) = I(x;s) It’s the mutual information! So, intuitively, the mutual information is how much an attacker learns about the style of the writer “on average”, where that average is over both writers and text. The following theorem will look at the average information in text for a writer with a particular style. I’ll define this as D(s) = KL(p(X|s) || p(X)) . Intuitively, this is how different the writing of someone with style s is from the population average. That’s because if you take the average of this value over different styles, you get the mutual information. That is, I(x;s) = 𝔼[D(s)] . 18 Theorem (informal). Suppose that the attacker will observe some text and wishes to classify it as either coming from a writer with specific known style ŝ , or coming from someone with a random style. Suppose that the attacker is only willing to tolerate some small risk ε of a false positive. Provided that D(ŝ) is significantly larger than -ln(ε) , the attacker can achieve that, while also keeping the risk of false negatives very low, provided that the variance of how much information is revealed in a random writing sample is bounded. Theorem. Let D(ŝ) = KL(p(X|ŝ) || p(X)) to be the divergence between the target’s writing distribution and the marginal distribution. Also, define qₜ(x) ∝ p(x|ŝ)ᵗ p(x)¹⁻ᵗ to be the family that interpolates between those two distributions. To formalize the idea that “information leakage” for ŝ doesn’t vary that much, we assume that some constant V exists such that for 0 < t < 1 , the variance of log(p(x|ŝ)/p(x)) under qₜ is bounded by V . Then for any ε satisfying exp(-D) < ε < exp(-D + ½ V) , it is possible for the attacker to simultaneously achieve a false positive rate of FPR ≤ ε and a false negative rate of FNR ≤ exp( - ½ (D+ ln ε)² / V). This false positive rate reflects the mistake rate provided the writing sample x came from a randomly chosen other person, while the false negative rate reflects the mistake rate provided the writing sample x actually came from the person with style ŝ . Proof sketch. Let f be the distribution of l(x) = log(p(x|ŝ)/p(x)) with respect to p(x|ŝ) and let g be the distribution of l(x) with respect to p(x) . The stated variance assumption implies a quadratic bound K(u) ≤ D u +½ V u^2 for -1 < u < 0 , where K is the cumulant generating function of f . Observe that g is an exponential tilting of f . The attacker’s strategy must be to “accept” x as coming from ŝ if l is above some threshold c and “reject” it otherwise. Use K in a Chernoff bound on the probability l is less than c under f to upper-bound FNR ≤ exp( - ½ (D-c)²/V) . Now, using that g(l) = exp(-l) f(l) , again use K in a Chernoff bound on the probability l exceeds c under g to upper-bound FPR ≤ exp( -c - ½ (D-c)²/V) . Both of these bounds are simultaneously valid when D-V < c < D . Setting c to make the false-positive bound equal to ε gives FPR ≤ ε and FNR ≤ exp( -½ (V - √(V² - 2V(D + ln ε)))²/V). The latter can be relaxed into the stated result using that √(1-x) ≤1-x/2 for 0 ≤ x ≤ 1 . □ Now, if we suppose that the attacker wants to find a particular person, with a particular known style s . And suppose that the attacker has a pool of N people and will see one writing sample from each, but wants to limit the total probability of a false positive to δ after seeing one sample from each person. Then, they will need that (1-ε)ᴺ ≈ exp(-εN) = (1-δ), which is satisfied by ε ≈ δ/N . Substituting this into the previous result says that the attacker can hold the total risk of a false positive to δ while achieving a false-negative risk of FNR ≤ exp( - ½ (D(s) + ln δ - ln N)² / V). These results use natural logarithms because the math is easier if you measure information in nats. If you measure information in bits then you would get log₂ δ and log₂ N . (Rescaling D and V appropriately.) So, again, as long as the average information for user s is significantly larger than log₂ N , the attacker can identify that user with minimal risk of false positives. Some writers might leak more information (higher D(s) ) and some writers might leak less information (lower D(s) ). But remember, I(x;s)=𝔼 D(s) . So as long as information leakage doesn’t vary too much between people, and assuming that I(x;s) is much larger than log₂ N (and assuming that variance condition), almost everyone can be identified. Editor’s note: After this sentence was written, many additional hours were devoted to further idiotic tinkering.  ↩ It’s fine.  ↩ A standard binary variable that is 0 or 1 with 50% probability conveys 1 bit of information, while a variable that is 0 / 1 / 2 with probability 49.8% / 49.8% / 0.4% conveys 1.0336 bits.  ↩ People born in certain decades are also presumably more likely to employ see what I did there gambits.  ↩ For example, here is the information content for seven different “bent coins”: Here’s a more formal looking version of the table from the previous footnote: You can generate that table by running this code: With three categories, the story is much the same. Things need to get quite uneven before information drops too much: You can generate that with this code: Roughly speaking, we we should discount those maximum bits as follows: The Shannon entropy of a categorical distribution is - Σᵢ pᵢ log₂ pᵢ. Or, in python: Age: It’s hard for me to imagine you could guess age from text with accuracy higher than 5 years. If you assume an age between 0 and 100, that would be 20 categories and log2(20)=4.32 bits. These are mildly non-uniform so I’ll reduce to 3.9. Education: I’m assuming 6 categories: less than high school, high school, some college, finished college, master’s degree, doctorate. That would be log2(6)=2.58 bits, but fairly uneven, so I’ll reduce by 20% to reflect that. Ethnicity: Assuming 62% white, 11% black, 16% latino, 6% asian, 1.5% indigenous, 3.5% mixed/other, and actually using the entropy formula. Family status: I’m using two categories: Children / no children, on the logic that guessing the number of children would be very hard. These are mildly non-uniform, so I’ll drop to 0.8 bits. You could have a third category for having children that are grown and that had left home, but this would be heavily redundant with age. Income: The US census gives 11 income brackets. That seems as good a way of discretizing as anything. That would be log2(11) = 3.459 bits, but these are again moderately non-uniform, so I’ll reduce to 2.5. Marital status: I’m taking 3 categories (single, married, divorced / widowed / etc). That would be log2(3)=1.58 bits at maximum, but again these are somewhat non-uniform, so I dropped that to 1.2. Mental health: I’m using 3 categories: “Healthy”, “chronic condition”, and “severe issues”. Assuming 73% healthy 25% chronic condition, 2% “severe issues”, and using the entropy formula gives 0.9 bits. Native language: I’m using 2 categories, namely “English native”, and “non-English native”. These are pretty uneven inside the Anglosphere, so I’ll drop from 1 bit to 0.6 bits. Occupation. The BLS classification gives 23 major groups. That would be log2(23)=4.523 bits, but it’s moderately non-uniform, so I’ll reduce to 4 bits. Physical health: Assuming 60% “healthy” 30% “chronic condition” 10% “severe issues” and using the entropy formula. Political leanings: I’m using three categories (left, center, right). These are fairly uniform so I’m using 1.58 bits. Region: I asked an LLM to divide the Anglosphere up into a number of regions with reasonable granularity. With some tinkering, it gave 23 regions: South East England, South West England, Midlands, Northern England, Scotland, Wales, Republic of Ireland, Northern Ireland, Quebec, Ontario, Western Canada, Atlantic Canada, Northeast US, Southern US, Midwest US, Western US, Alaska, Hawaii, Southeast Australia, Western Australia, Queensland, Central & Southern Australia, New Zealand. With LLM-generated population estimates (which looked reasonable) and plugging into the entropy formula, this gave 3.5481 bits. Religious affiliation: 3 categories (christian, other religion, atheist / agnostic). These are uniform-ish. Sex: 2 categories, near-even  ↩ Consider a set of binary random variables, each of which is equally likely to be 0 and 1, yet all are correlated with a pairwise correlation coefficient of ρ. There are many distributions that satisfy this condition, but a natural choice is an Ising model. If there are many variables, then the entropy per-variable in an Ising model with pairwise correlations of ρ tends to h((1+√ρ)/2), where h is the binary entropy function . We can print out those numbers: As you can see, the entropy per-variable is always a bit more than 1-ρ. But the Ising model is optimistic, in the sense that it has the highest entropy of all distributions meeting the given conditions. So, screw it, let’s estimate the entropy per-variable to just be 1-ρ.  ↩ If it means anything to you, I asked Kimi 2.6 to hallucinate some numbers: Personally, this doesn’t mean very much to me…  ↩ It’s more complicated than this, because some atoms (e.g. strontium-90) emit more energy per decay than others. And some types of radiation are more harmful to human life than others.  ↩ In general, if you want an exponential curve f(n) that starts at 1 for n=0 and decays to 1-X for n=N, you should choose f(n) = exp(n × ln(1-X) / N). So for demographic features we’re using X=0.6 and N = 4500, meaning f(n) = exp(-0.00020362 × n). For personality features, we’re using X=0.7, meaning f(n) = exp(-0.00026755 × n), and for writing style features, we’re using X = 0.8, meaning f(n) = exp(-0.000357653 × n). So the total number of bits remaining hidden is 17.2 × exp(-0.00020362 × n) + 39.0 × exp(-0.00026755 × n) + 50.0 × exp(-0.000357653 × n).  ↩ OK, what’s the most likely reason I might be wrong? Above, I used math to estimate the information in features, and then I basically made up numbers for how much of that information can be guessed from text. Even so, my greatest concern is that the first part. I’m a bit worried that I might be overestimating the amount of information in the features themselves due to inadequately discounting for correlations. For one thing, there are probably correlations between feature groups. (For example, I’d bet that people who are high in perfectionism are less likely to use lose and loose interchangeably, and that people who live in Northern England are more likely to use the character string than people who live in Hawaii.) Also, my crude method of discounting information by ρ due to pairwise correlations of ρ might not discount enough: I used an estimate based on an Ising model, which is the maximum-entropy (highest information) distribution given the correlation constraints. I haven’t been able to figure out how much lower the information could be in the worst-case.  ↩ People debate if this is true for “intelligence”, but it’s definitely true in terms of bit-rate.  ↩ Also, arguably, stylometry is about language. This means that large language models probably have much of what they need baked in. That might explain why they’re pretty good at it just “by accident”. But to do this optimally I think they’d need self-reflection (e.g. access to probabilities of text given different contexts) that current LLMs aren’t typically capable of, and wouldn’t know how to manipulate correctly without task-specific training.  ↩ You could conjecture that near-optimal stylometry abilities are some kind of “emergent property”. But the general lesson so far is that LLMs mostly don’t have emergent properties but are just good at what they’re trained at.  ↩ (Meta-joke about you—person who works at an AI company—thinking, “maybe we should do that”, coming to this footnote, and seeing this meta-joke.)  ↩ Instead of “homogenizing” writing by imposing a generic style, perhaps it would be better to “camouflage” it by enforcing a very strong but random style.  ↩ Be a little careful here: Typically, the KL-divergence is understood to be measured in nats. But in this article, I’ve measured mutual information in bits. That’s fine, but you need to convert. For example, 106.2 bits = 73.60 nats.  ↩ A and B have revealed K overlapping bits, which all match. Different people have a 50% chance of matching on any given revealed bit. Non-different people have a 100% chance of matching on any given revealed bit. There are 490,000,000 people. Family status Marital status Mental health Native language Physical health Political leanings Religious affiliation Honesty-humility Sincerity Greed avoidance Emotionality Fearfulness Sentimentality Extraversion Social self-esteem Social boldness Sociability Agreeableness Forgivingness Flexibility Conscientiousness Organization Perfectionism Openness to experience Aesthetic appreciation Inquisitiveness Unconventionality Word lengths Sentence lengths Paragraph lengths Punctuation frequencies (commas, colons, dashes, parentheses) Function word frequencies ( the , of , and , to ) Adverb frequencies Intensifiers ( very , really , quite , pretty , so ) Evidential markers ( apparently , evidently , obviously ) Downtoners ( somewhat , fairly , rather ) Pronoun usage Overall preferences ( I / we vs. you vs. he / she / they ) Third-person singular preferences ( he , she , he or she , they , one ) Modal verbs ( can , could , might , must , should , will , would ) Hedges ( perhaps , maybe , possibly , probably ) Conjunctions ( and , but , yet , so ) Known stable ratios ( the / a , this / that , these / those , I / me / my ) Character N-grams (3-grams and 4-grams) Word N-grams (often 3-grams) Vocabulary size Lexical diversity / type-token ratio (Number of distinct words divided by number of words.) Frequencies of rare words Semantic density Discourse marker positions, combinations ( So , anyway , so anyway ) Use of abbreviations and acronyms Preference for latinate vs. germanic words ( The majestic creature traversed the terrain vs. the mighty beast strode across the land .) Syntactic complexity Subordination index Average parse tree depth Use of passive voice. Nominalization ( She was shocked I ate the pizza vs. My pizza consumption shocked her ) Verb tense and aspect ( I walk vs I walked vs I was walking vs I have walked ) Sentence structure preferences: Branching preferences (Cursed everyone had a good time when Alice taught some cool dogs I met and brought to dinner to juggle vs. clumsy-but-readable I met some dogs and they were cool and I took them to dinner and Alice taught them to juggle and and everyone had a good time .) Adverbial clause positioning ( Suddenly I was hungry vs. I was, suddenly, hungry vs. I was hungry, suddenly ) Sentence-final weight ( Your plan won’t work because of the dyslexic bears vs. Dyslexic bears mean your plan won’t work. ) Polysyndeton ( I like dogs, cats, and ferrets vs. I like dogs and cats and ferrets .) Repetition / breaking of syntactic structures. Register / formality. Patterns in sentence length (long/short/long/short vs. long/long/short/short) Stressed syllable interval preferences (e.g. iambic vs. trochaic) Minor punctuation ( I laughed—you cried vs. I laughed — you cried , “…” (three periods) vs. “…” an actual ellipsis) Capitalization. (Job titles, seasons, after a colon, mistakes) Apostrophes ( Steve Jobs’ car vs Steve Jobs’s car , 1990’s vs 1990s ) Hyphenation ( a highly-stable feature vs a highly stable feature ) Oxford commas. Article omissions ( Local dog was petted. vs. A local dog was petted. ) Relative pronoun omissions ( the dog you petted vs. the dog that you petted ) Who vs. whom . Split infinitives ( To obsessively blog vs. to blog obsessively ) Whitespace habits. Spelling errors ( loose instead of lose ) Grammar errors. ( Between you and I ) Consistent, unique typos Other consistent errors (repeated words, un-closed parentheses) 60% of the demographic features 70% of the personality features 80% writing style features You have far more than 29 bits of identifying information that you leak into your writing. Some of those bits take a long time to get revealed, but others are revealed pretty quickly. There are enough “fast leaking bits” that you can be identified from a writing sample that’s “pretty small”. Take 50 people. Get a few hundred writing samples from each author, each 1000-2000 words long. Now, take a new writing sample from one of those authors. Do some standard machine learning stuff. Hey look, the author can be identified with ~95% accuracy! People become more comfortable with their “full selves” being public, with less compartmentalization. People pull back from communicating in public channels, relying more on group chats and the like. People self-censor. If you walk around in public, then you can likely be identified by your face, your gait, your voice, your DNA, your retinas, or your literal fingerprints. Or say you use the internet. Even if you lock down your browser fingerprint and hide your IP address using a VPN or Tor, a sufficiently powerful adversary could still identify you by analyzing global packet flow. Or say you use any phone or computer. You might be identified through keystroke dynamics or the way you jiggle your finger or mouse. Say you buy food at the grocery store, but you pay with cash and somehow shop at a grocery store with no cameras. If you buy more than a handful of items, I’d bet you can still be identified through the patterns in the stuff you buy. (Incidentally, did you ever notice that cash has serial numbers on it? And did you know that more and more ATMs are starting to track those numbers?) Or say you don’t like your car being tracked, so you stop carrying a phone and somehow get lawmakers to outlaw license plates. Still, your car surely has a few small unique scratches, and the engine probably doesn’t sound exactly the same as other cars, even from the same model and year. So if there’s any high-resolution video or audio, that’s still enough to track you. Say you plug your headphones into a charging station at the airport. Your headphones have eccentricities in their analog charging circuits. If someone really wanted to, they could track that. Or say you use electricity. Given high-resolution power-usage data, what can be said about how many people live with you? And what devices you’re using? Probably a lot? Or say you use a toilet. Many places already test sewage and know, at a population level, what drugs people are using and how prevalent various diseases are. Imagine this was upgraded to test many places in the system, with high temporal resolution, possibly correlated with flow measurements from individual houses. That would be exciting. Or say you are a country and you have submarines. Can they be detected by adversaries using distributed acoustic sensing? What about satellite-based synthetic aperture radar? Gravity Gradiometers? Quantum magnetometry? Editor’s note: After this sentence was written, many additional hours were devoted to further idiotic tinkering.  ↩ It’s fine.  ↩ A standard binary variable that is 0 or 1 with 50% probability conveys 1 bit of information, while a variable that is 0 / 1 / 2 with probability 49.8% / 49.8% / 0.4% conveys 1.0336 bits.  ↩ People born in certain decades are also presumably more likely to employ see what I did there gambits.  ↩ For example, here is the information content for seven different “bent coins”: Probability of landing heads Information 0.50 (fair coin) 1.000 0.60 0.971 0.70 0.881 0.80 0.722 0.90 0.469 0.95 0.286 0.99 0.081 ↩ Here’s a more formal looking version of the table from the previous footnote: p(A) p(B) Information 0.50 0.50 1.000 0.60 0.40 0.971 0.70 0.30 0.881 0.80 0.20 0.722 0.90 0.10 0.469 0.95 0.05 0.286 0.99 0.01 0.081 You can generate that table by running this code: With three categories, the story is much the same. Things need to get quite uneven before information drops too much: p(A) p(B) p(C) Entropy 0.333 0.333 0.333 1.585 0.400 0.300 0.300 1.571 0.500 0.250 0.250 1.500 0.600 0.200 0.200 1.371 0.700 0.150 0.150 1.181 0.800 0.100 0.100 0.922 0.900 0.050 0.050 0.569 0.950 0.025 0.025 0.336 0.990 0.005 0.005 0.091 You can generate that with this code: ↩ Roughly speaking, we we should discount those maximum bits as follows: Near even: No discount. “Mildly uneven” (E.g. 70/30 with two categories) Discount by 10%. “Quite uneven” (E.g. 90/10 with two categories) Discount by 50%. “Extremely uneven” (E.g. 99/1 with two categories) Discount by 90%. Consider a set of binary random variables, each of which is equally likely to be 0 and 1, yet all are correlated with a pairwise correlation coefficient of ρ. There are many distributions that satisfy this condition, but a natural choice is an Ising model. If there are many variables, then the entropy per-variable in an Ising model with pairwise correlations of ρ tends to h((1+√ρ)/2), where h is the binary entropy function . We can print out those numbers: ρ h((1+√ρ)/2) 0.0000 1.00000000 0.1000 0.92661216 0.2000 0.85048963 0.3000 0.77121926 0.4000 0.68826012 0.5000 0.60087604 0.6000 0.50801160 0.7000 0.40803633 0.8000 0.29811751 0.9000 0.17212786 1.0000 0.00000000 As you can see, the entropy per-variable is always a bit more than 1-ρ. But the Ising model is optimistic, in the sense that it has the highest entropy of all distributions meeting the given conditions. So, screw it, let’s estimate the entropy per-variable to just be 1-ρ.  ↩ If it means anything to you, I asked Kimi 2.6 to hallucinate some numbers:   Age Edu Eth Fam Inc Mar Mhe Nlg Occ Phe Pol Reg Rel Sex Age 1.0 -0.2 0.0 0.6 0.1 0.5 -0.1 0.0 0.2 -0.5 0.1 0.0 0.2 -0.1 Edu -0.2 1.0 0.3 0.2 0.6 0.2 0.1 0.1 0.7 0.3 0.3 0.2 -0.2 -0.1 Eth 0.0 0.3 1.0 0.2 0.3 0.1 -0.1 0.7 0.3 -0.3 0.2 0.4 0.4 0.0 Fam 0.6 0.2 0.2 1.0 0.2 0.7 -0.1 0.0 0.1 0.0 0.1 0.0 0.2 0.1 Inc 0.1 0.6 0.3 0.2 1.0 0.3 -0.2 0.1 0.7 0.3 0.1 0.2 0.0 -0.1 Mar 0.5 0.2 0.1 0.7 0.3 1.0 0.2 0.0 0.1 0.2 0.1 0.0 0.2 0.0 Mhe -0.1 0.1 -0.1 -0.1 -0.2 0.2 1.0 0.0 -0.2 0.4 0.0 0.0 -0.1 0.1 Nlg 0.0 0.1 0.7 0.0 0.1 0.0 0.0 1.0 0.1 0.0 0.1 0.5 0.3 0.0 Occ 0.2 0.7 0.3 0.1 0.7 0.1 -0.2 0.1 1.0 0.1 0.2 0.2 0.0 0.3 Phe -0.5 0.3 -0.3 0.0 0.3 0.2 0.4 0.0 0.1 1.0 0.0 0.1 0.0 0.1 Pol 0.1 0.3 0.2 0.1 0.1 0.1 0.0 0.1 0.2 0.0 1.0 0.5 0.4 0.1 Reg 0.0 0.2 0.4 0.0 0.2 0.0 0.0 0.5 0.2 0.1 0.5 1.0 0.2 0.0 Rel 0.2 -0.2 0.4 0.2 0.0 0.2 -0.1 0.3 0.0 0.0 0.4 0.2 1.0 0.1 Sex -0.1 -0.1 0.0 0.1 -0.1 0.0 0.1 0.0 0.3 0.1 0.1 0.0 0.1 1.0 Personally, this doesn’t mean very much to me…  ↩ It’s more complicated than this, because some atoms (e.g. strontium-90) emit more energy per decay than others. And some types of radiation are more harmful to human life than others.  ↩ In general, if you want an exponential curve f(n) that starts at 1 for n=0 and decays to 1-X for n=N, you should choose f(n) = exp(n × ln(1-X) / N). So for demographic features we’re using X=0.6 and N = 4500, meaning f(n) = exp(-0.00020362 × n). For personality features, we’re using X=0.7, meaning f(n) = exp(-0.00026755 × n), and for writing style features, we’re using X = 0.8, meaning f(n) = exp(-0.000357653 × n). So the total number of bits remaining hidden is 17.2 × exp(-0.00020362 × n) + 39.0 × exp(-0.00026755 × n) + 50.0 × exp(-0.000357653 × n).  ↩ OK, what’s the most likely reason I might be wrong? Above, I used math to estimate the information in features, and then I basically made up numbers for how much of that information can be guessed from text. Even so, my greatest concern is that the first part. I’m a bit worried that I might be overestimating the amount of information in the features themselves due to inadequately discounting for correlations. For one thing, there are probably correlations between feature groups. (For example, I’d bet that people who are high in perfectionism are less likely to use lose and loose interchangeably, and that people who live in Northern England are more likely to use the character string than people who live in Hawaii.) Also, my crude method of discounting information by ρ due to pairwise correlations of ρ might not discount enough: I used an estimate based on an Ising model, which is the maximum-entropy (highest information) distribution given the correlation constraints. I haven’t been able to figure out how much lower the information could be in the worst-case.  ↩ People debate if this is true for “intelligence”, but it’s definitely true in terms of bit-rate.  ↩ Also, arguably, stylometry is about language. This means that large language models probably have much of what they need baked in. That might explain why they’re pretty good at it just “by accident”. But to do this optimally I think they’d need self-reflection (e.g. access to probabilities of text given different contexts) that current LLMs aren’t typically capable of, and wouldn’t know how to manipulate correctly without task-specific training.  ↩ You could conjecture that near-optimal stylometry abilities are some kind of “emergent property”. But the general lesson so far is that LLMs mostly don’t have emergent properties but are just good at what they’re trained at.  ↩ (Meta-joke about you—person who works at an AI company—thinking, “maybe we should do that”, coming to this footnote, and seeing this meta-joke.)  ↩ Instead of “homogenizing” writing by imposing a generic style, perhaps it would be better to “camouflage” it by enforcing a very strong but random style.  ↩ Be a little careful here: Typically, the KL-divergence is understood to be measured in nats. But in this article, I’ve measured mutual information in bits. That’s fine, but you need to convert. For example, 106.2 bits = 73.60 nats.  ↩

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Martin Fowler 3 days ago

Fragments: July 13

Some more of my notes from Thoughtworks Future of Software Development Retreat . When we had our first retreat in Utah early this year, nobody had heard of Harness Engineering . This time we had a whole session on it. When comes to the guide side of harnesses, most of the discussion is about context management. While context windows have increased is size as models get more sophisticated, that doesn’t mean that models will properly focus on the right bits. Models typically only focus attention on part of the context, and to get the best behavior, we need to manage that focus. One attendee keeps their context small, limiting the file to less than 200 lines On the sensor side, we see more attention on computational sensors. Two patterns from one participant was shifting to languages with greater controls, (eg Rust rather than Python) and “leveling up” validation approaches, using more property-based testing and techniques from formal methods. One commented that while they aren’t smart enough to write specifications in a formal specification language, they are smart enough to read it and check it makes sense for their domain. Will our attention on harnesses last long enough for our next retreat? Will the models just get so good that harnesses become unnecessary? Those with some mechanical sympathy for LLMs seem to think not - but are they overly coupled to the current state of technology? I find such speculation tends not to lead anywhere useful, I’ve not seen much success in guessing the future in the past, and with technology as radical as this, I don’t see it being any easier. So for the moment, attention to harnesses pays off. We find it reduces token usage, and also allows weaker models to be useful, supporting such things as local hosting of open-weight models. ❄                ❄ Which naturally segues me to a session on self-hosted models. Increasing token costs have made hosting an open-weight model more attractive, particularly due to the decreasing time for open-weight models to catch up with frontier models. Cost isn’t the only factor, however, many folks find a desire to be independent of the frontier model firms to be the the driving force. After all we’ve seen the U.S. government intervene to deny access to models, increasing the desire for greater model sovereignty. Information security is also something to consider, some attendees just can’t give models necessary data for critical work. Even without that, if someone else hosts the model then their model learns rather than your model. And although recent events have increased interest, several participants worked with companies that had been self-hosting for up to a couple of years. Is this trudging down the same path of self-hosted clouds, which led to lots of folks spending excessive funds on half-arsed private clouds ? The answer hinges upon whether it ends up being simpler to host a model than a cloud, perhaps due to a simpler interaction protocol. The hard part of this may be the talent required to efficiently use the GPUs, managing an inference data center currently isn’t a widely available skill. Even self-hosted models are a cost to operate, capital costs in GPUs, ongoing costs in electricity. The physical design of a data center can affect optimal usage. There’s an opportunity here for professional services firms to help companies manage this. Cost control also involves teaching people to pick the right model for the job. Can we teach engineers, or indeed other users, to pick a less-powerful model? This, of course, could be a job for model itself, acting as a broker, deciding which model is the best choice to tackle certain jobs. Self-hosting may lead to a greater use of fine-tuning. Currently that’s a niche activity, but over time we could well find that models that are fine-tuned to a particular domain need less reasoning, consume less tokens, and thus are cheaper to operate. We are seeing models trained specifically to support programming. As with any topic with this degree of uncertainty, the big win isn’t finding the right answer, but coming up with a strategy that will cope with the inevitable and unpredictable changes. ❄                ❄ After an event like this, many people come up to me and ask me to make some grand summing up. I hate this, because I rarely leave these kinds of event with some grand narrative. Even after mulling on it afterwards (in writing the above notes) I still usually don’t have one, and distrust one that forms, as my skepticism includes attempts to make coherent narratives of an event that’s naturally rather jumbled. However my failings are irrelevant this time, because Kief Morris has put together such a narrative, and it’s a convincing one , even to a narrative-denier like me. The sessions had different titles and different casts, and on the surface they were about different problems. But they weren’t. Nearly every one of them was a different facet of the same argument. How much do we let an agent decide, and how do we stay confident in what it does? He looks at code review, questions whether it matters, but sees that the rigor that many associate with code review shifts to other forms. He describes the disagreements about how much we should trust an agent to identify and fix production incidents. He sees that the contrast between how much leeway teams give to agents depends on the context they are operating Underneath all of these sessions, the operations debate, the wide-remit team, the dark-factory spectrum, the argument about who’s allowed to steer the model, people were making the same handful of choices over and over about a single thing: the unit of work they were prepared to hand to an agent. How big it is. How much of the job it covers. What you do to get it ready to hand over. How you check what comes back. What you put around the agent to keep it inside the lines. Different rooms set those differently, but they were setting the same controls. ❄                ❄ Sam Ruby convened a session called “Bring me a Rock”. The name evokes a particular kind of management dysfunction. The manager tells his underlings to bring him a rock, and then starts rejecting the results without explaining why (“no not that one”, “no not that one”) until eventually one rock matches the unstated expectation. It names a manager who substitutes serial rejection for the work of saying what they want, and makes you pay for their unfinished thinking one rock at a time. Sam had already written why he thought with LLMs, this changed from a slur to a defensible way to work . When its a bunch of tireless machines with endless patience, that return new rocks in minutes rather than days, then an approach like this (using the brainstorming register becomes a defensible way to work. Sam described the discussion : The room pulled it somewhere narrower than I’d framed, and the narrower place was the more interesting one: not how to explore by elimination but who should even be allowed to. Product managers, increasingly people managers, are reaching for these models directly, and seasoned engineers get measurably better results from them than untrained people do — so the worry followed. If expertise is what separates a good outcome from slop, should non-engineers be steering the model at all? It’s a fair question, and I think it’s the wrong one, because it mistakes the act. When a manager reaches for an LLM instead of routing the work to the team that reports to them, they didn’t pick up a tool — they made a hire. And you don’t ask permission to manage your own team; a manager who decides a piece of work is better given to a new participant than to the existing one is doing the most ordinary thing a manager does. Framed that way, the permission question dissolves into an older, better-understood one — the one Drucker named in 1959: when the worker knows more about the specifics than the manager does, you manage by objective, not by method. The non-engineer steering an agent is exactly that manager, out-known by the thing they’re directing, and the slop the room feared is the old danger of managing by method when you should be managing by objective. The question isn’t may they hire? It’s do they know how to manage by objective? — which you can teach, hire for, and hold people to without anyone first becoming an engineer. Sam’s article explores managing an LLM by objective, giving it a goal rather than a task. And Kief’s earlier point about the essence of the discussion still holds: how confident can we be that it’s done the right thing? We can outsource many things, but not the acceptance criteria, at some point there’s a human request and a human judgment on whether that request was properly executed. But the danger lies in important unstated objectives, unstated perhaps because they weren’t even imagined. It’s easy to state objectives around desired functionality. Give me a an application that will examine my emails and form a todo list for today. But behind that simple statement is a thicket of unstated assumptions. We tend to assume The Genie won’t include any undesired functionality, perhaps deleting emails it thinks are unworthy of our attention. We assume it won’t let an email tell it to send private information to [email protected]. We have some hope here - we hear more experiences that suggest that recent models can do an excellent job of finding (and hopefully fixing) security holes. The careful precision of the machine outruns the sloppy if imaginative thinking in squishyware. Perhaps we can assume the genie can take care of some of our unstated objectives. Conformance tests (sensors) are more valuable than specifications (guides), but it’s hard to imagine all the conformance tests that are needed to say what shouldn’t happen. Furthermore, building software is about exploration, finding out how a workflow can evolve as machines are embedded in the process. For a human to guide that process, we need some understanding of it. My sense is that model building is still important, and while I agree that the genie can take an active role in that construction, I don’t think the human can entirely outsource it. Even if the genie builds the model itself, it needs to teach us that model, because the model helps us imagine and communicate the goals, the objectives that we give to the machine. ❄                ❄                ❄                ❄                ❄ If you follow my feeds (which you probably do if you’re reading this), then you’ll know that Birgitta Böckeler has written a couple of memos on working with local models. She first looked the factors that influence how viable they are for programming , and then related some of her recent experiences evaluating such models . As a nice, if accidental, complement to these, Sebastian Raschka wrote a detailed guide to his local model environment . Like Birgitta, he’s found the Qwen 3.6 model to be the current sweet spot for local agentic programming. ❄                ❄                ❄                ❄                ❄ Simon Willison shares a useful tip to save money while using the latest Anthropic Fable model Tell Fable to use other models for smaller tasks, applying its own judgement about which model to use. ❄                ❄                ❄                ❄                ❄ Josh Comeau writes a blog and online courses for developer education, primarily front-end web material. His been successful for most of this decade but has found his online courses have had only ⅓ the sales this year . He attributes this to AI, partly as people worry if it’s worth spending money on a job that may not have a future, but also because AI can provide personalized tutoring. ideally, it shouldn’t cost any money to learn stuff. But I sorta worry about how this is supposed to work, going forwards, if there’s no incentive for people to make high-quality free content. I’ve spoken to a few course creators now, and we’re all seeing the same trend. Revenue down 50%+. Fewer people engaging with our content. People switching to LLMs, which slurp up all of our work and regurgitate it, without consent or compensation. It feels pretty bleak. 😅 ❄                ❄                ❄                ❄                ❄ John Gruber is annoyed that Claude’s desktop app for MacOS in uses Electron . Electron guarantees that an app feels just as wrong on all platforms. He has some tasty invective for the folks at Anthropic with ties to the Electron platform. Finding out that one guy — who is a senior Electron maintainer — has led the teams for the desktop clients for Slack, Notion, and now Claude is like discovering that it was one guy — whose family business was a distillery — who helmed the Titanic, piloted the Hindenburg, and then served as air traffic controller for Amelia Earhart. The deeper question here is whether there should be a future for cross-platform front-ends in the world of agentic programming. There’s lots of evidence that coding agents do a great job of building the same thing in multiple languages and platform ecosystems. That should mean that the days of least-denominator cross-platform UIs are numbered - and that number is small. ❄                ❄                ❄                ❄                ❄ Dan Davies tries to draw a distinction between interactional and contributory expertise . Contributory expertise is that held by people who are doing the work to advance a field of study, interaction expertise is held by folks that spend time talking to contributory experts, building up a decent store of knowledge themselves, but not steeped in the day-to-day of the work. it seems to me that there is an important distinction here, which is not any less important because the dividing line might be difficult to establish empirically, or even if that line turns out to be in a different place from where we guessed it was. As well as difficult cases where it’s not clear, I think we could also come up with cases where the distinction between interactional and contributory expertise would suddenly become very clear and important indeed – the ones where someone who was faking it got “found out”. And so the question that I think is quite important is whether there is a similar kind of distinction between the kind of expertise that it’s possible for a machine to get by industralised consumption and interaction with a much larger corpus of literature than any human being could inhale, and genuine contributory expertise that could apply to entirely new situations outside that literature. As a human, I’d like to think I’m more of a contributor than an interactor (especially given my increasing introversion), and thus relatively safe from being forced into obsolescence by silicon. But I’m also aware that my career is devoid of any original ideas, my skill is only that of someone who is good at selecting and explaining the ideas of others. (As Brian Foote put it more memorably: “an intellectual jackal with good taste in carrion”.) But there’s skill in being a good jackal too - and we don’t really know yet where the real boundaries of the LLMs will lie.

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<antirez> 3 days ago

Control the ideas, not the code

Look at the past history of this blog. There are many blog posts about programming with AI, a few of them date back to January 2024 (like this: https://antirez.com/news/140). I’m a relatively well regarded programmer, after all. I don’t have the need to still be in the “loop” as a old man that seeks for relevance, I recently rejoined Redis, and now I also am developing a new open source software for local LLM inference that received a good welcome in the community. Why I keep doing this, of saying what people don’t want to hear? Why I keep announcing how future programming will be by default? Because I feel the urge of lowering the impact for people less prepared to the change than me, often younger than me, and that, unlikely me, didn’t see many of those things coming (In 2022 I published, before ChatGPT existed, a book preannouncing many things that now happened and other things that I believe *will* happen, so I feel like I can say this without sounding egocentric). So mine is a trick. People feel more and more programming is completely modified by AI and don’t know what they should do, if they can really start coding in a completely different way, without looking much at the code as their main output. They feel like they are betraying their own field. So my intention is to arrive and say “look at me, In can write code, you know, I’m not hiding behind AI: yet, things changed, it’s not your weakness, it’s not that you are AI-pilled. It is just that our field is evolving in an incredible *and* painful (but also joyful) direction”. This is why yesterday, on X, I said that I believe many programmers at this point have less impact they could have because they look at the code. I truly believe into that. And note that this does not mean to vibe code something just asking for the final product. The point is: if you control the ideas of your software, looking at the code itself is suboptimal and often pointless. For the following reasons: 1. You can now generate a lot of code, even *not* accounting for the LLM code verbosity (that is also effect of not being able to instruct them well, for most of the part). How are you supposed to review 5k lines of code every day? 2. LLMs are very good at writing locally optimal code, and are worse (but improving) with big ideas. What’s the point of scanning function by function, line by line? Instead you should prompt the design you have in mind, sometimes ask “how is exactly the design of that part? How does it work?”, and evaluate if it is the right model. It is much faster. 3. The working day is 8 hours. If you read the code, it is a tradeoff. You are doing less of what today is the most important part of your job, that is, asking yourself: what I’m doing with this software? What are the new directions I want to take? And also, think at new ideas, features, optimizations tricks. And doing a lot of QA. Controlling the ideas. Do you remember this phrasing from the Mythical Man Month? Well, a book from the 70s tells us more things about the current software era than many of the things that were said from 2000 to 2020. Why people that now protest against AI were not horrified by the state of software in the last decade? The level of slop we touched during recent years, before AI, is unbelievable. I’ll say you another thing. What is slop? With DwarfStar I implemented an inference for two LLMs (DeepSeek v4 and GLM 5.2) in a completely automated way, but: try it yourself, you will discover you can’t just say “implement XYZ” and see it working. You have to understand how things work, what is the best design, how to reach a certain level of performance. Then I compared the implementation, for correctness, to other systems, finding that other implementations sometimes contained more errors. I researched more, and found that the local inference world is full of subtle errors that accumulate and damage the model output, issues in the attention implementation causing performance slopes after the context is over a certain limit because indexed attention implementations are broken (do more work than they should, for instance), and so forth. This is the result of a domain that is very complicated to handle, fast changing, with models that are slightly different one from the other in the inference graph being released every day. It’s an unfair game for developers. Well: AI helps a lot with that. There are many domains where rigorous engineering (in the design side) and testing is *far* better than writing a GPU kernel by hand (or reading it). So are we sure most of that resistance it is not ideological? Matteo Collina yesterday asked me, in reply to my tweet: but didn’t you say that you check all the AI generated code for Redis? And this is a good question indeed. Yes, I do, but this is, at this point, something I *need* to do but that I believe to be mostly pointless, partially once GPT 5.5 was released, but now with Fable and GPT 5.6 Sol even more. Yes: I identify things that I don’t like how they are coded, but if I open other Redis files written by other Redis contributors there is *far worse*, and not since they are not good coders, but because it is a matter of taste. I write very clean code since I want it to be readable, so during the implementation of Redis Arrays I operated changes. I’m doing it again for the 50% memory saving optimization of Redis sorted sets, a PR that I’ll submit soon. But I do not feel this is useful anymore. Nobody should anymore look at this code, but only at the ideas the code contains. I continued to do it out of respect for users. Redis is at this point a commonly useful thing, and many programmers will open files and modify stuff by hand. But if I had my hands free, you know what I would do, instead? Use all the time that the review is taking me to do more QA, to think at the next optimization idea and apply it, and to use LLMs to write a DESIGN.md file where each data structure is described in human language, with the ideas it contains, the implementation tricks, the design. That, in the future, is going to be much more useful. Do you want to modify sorted sets? You open the file, read the design, then you own the ideas. You can open your agent and ask it what to do with the right mental model. This is a lot more useful than reviewing the code. Fable and GPT 5.6 reviews to the sorted sets memory saving are going to spot ways more errors and subtle race conditions that my review is going to uncover. Yet I’ll do it. But for the majority of software projects, all this does not make sense anymore. Focus on controlling the ideas, instead. Focus on quality, testing, and having an idea of the software you want to ship. The world changed and it is painful, but also full of opportunities to improve a software world that was already completely rotten. I have a doubt only regarding young programmers that don't have enough experience, and can't build a mental model. We don't know, yet, if they will require or not to understand very well how a given piece of code works, but I believe they should learn how to write programs. Yet, I'm not sure checking the LLM output is the right thing they should do. It may be a lot more useful if they learn some programming language and implement a small interpreter, a small database, an hash table and so forth. Reviewing some Javascript stuff of some web site for a customer? Hell, no, don't lose time with that shit. Comments

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Stratechery 3 days ago

Apple Sues OpenAI, Apple’s Real Problem

Apple is suing AI for stealing trade secrets; there is one guilty employee, but this mostly feels like lashing out.

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Kev Quirk 3 days ago

📝 2026-07-13 08:12: Haven't worn this watch for months, but it's such a fun one to wear in...

Haven't worn this watch for months, but it's such a fun one to wear in summer. Beautiful dial and a Seiko movement that will probably outlive me. Thanks for reading this post via RSS. RSS is ace, and so are you. ❤️ You can reply to this post by email , or leave a comment .

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Hugo 3 days ago

AI and Ecology, Fantasy or Convenient Scapegoat?

It's hard to talk about AI these days. I've rarely, if ever, seen a subject so polarized in tech. You could tell me I have a short memory. The internet sparked plenty of criticism around the destruction of brick-and-mortar retail, print media, and the end of human interaction. Same for mobile, with added, legitimate reproaches about addiction and the ease of surveilling individuals. We could also mention crypto, a massive Ponzi scheme for some, a way to reclaim power from central banks for others. And yet, with AI, I feel like we've crossed a threshold. There would be only two possibilities: Pick a side, friend, and if you don't, others will do it for you. The "safest" bet is not to talk about it at all, but burying my head in the sand feels cowardly, if not impossible when you work in tech. Simply put, I need to stick my head out and try this exercise without resorting to clichés. And since we're in the middle of a heat wave, it seems obvious that the first subject to address is ecology. Is AI as catastrophic as people say? Is the impact of an AI query truly astronomically higher than a Google search? How does it compare with other digital uses? Let's take some time to look at all this. First, let's establish some basics about what we call ecological impact. This impact falls into several categories: To keep things simple, an AI consumes energy at two distinct stages: during training (when the model is created, like Gemini, Llama, Claude, etc.) and during inference (when users actually query the model). When looking at carbon footprints, models vary wildly, but the estimated range for training a single major model sits between 500 and 12,000 tonnes of CO2 equivalent. To put that into perspective: ::callout{type=primary} The massive gap between US and French household equivalents stems from the fact that France’s energy mix relies heavily on nuclear power, which is virtually carbon-free. :: Operational consumption is another moving target. It depends on the complexity of the prompt, the location of the data center (and its corresponding energy mix), the model being used, and so on. But it's estimated to vary between 0.03g , and 1g of CO2 per request. We'll see below how that compares with internet, gaming, streaming etc… To talk about water consumption, we must first address a common misconception: No, we don't destroy water . Earth’s water operates in a closed loop. When water is used in a cooling system, whether in a data center, nuclear power plant or anything else, it's not destroyed. When water evaporates, it eventually falls back as rain. However , evaporation causes water to displace. If water moves more than 800km, the region where it was drawn from has effectively lost it, temporarily but lost nonetheless. In ecology, we distinguish water withdrawal (borrowing water and returning it to the same place after use) and water consumption (drawing water and evaporating or releasing it elsewhere, making it unavailable locally). AI consumes water. On a planetary scale , it's not necessarily a problem. On a local scale , however, it can trigger severe water stress, creating direct competition between residents, agriculture, and data centers. To be fair, technology is advancing. The majority of new data center projects use closed-loop water systems so water isn't evaporated. Some countries (Ireland, Sweden, Finland) take advantage of their cold climate to reduce water needs by 90% and we see other systems emerging. But to look at the flip side, the vast majority of existing data centers use evaporation systems and in any case, these systems require electricity which creates tensions, for example in Sweden or Ireland. Now that we've said all that, what's the consumption for evaporation data centers? Training a recent model is estimated to consume approximately 40 to 80 million liters (a small lake). In a water-stressed region, that can make a difference. And if we look at usage, for a request, it's between 2 and 6.5ml of water per request. ::callout{type=warning} This section is the trickiest for me because it’s the one I’m least familiar with, and honestly, it probably deserves an entire article of its own. So, while we will only scratch the surface here, I promise to dive much deeper into this specific topic in a future post. :: We often focus on electricity and water, but the environmental footprint of mining is one of AI's biggest blind spots. To run AIs or train models, you need ultra-powerful equipment and colossal infrastructure that will require copper, aluminum, cobalt, lithium, nickel, rare earths and I imagine I'm forgetting some. Well, these resources are in limited quantities on earth but I'll discuss that in a future article, recycling in this sector is currently negligible but moreover, the extraction itself is extremely polluting. To make matters worse, we must add that current equipment becomes obsolete much faster. In the AI race, we replace equipment much faster. Certainly, new equipment is more efficient, particularly in terms of energy but this ultra-rapid rotation creates a volume of electronic waste we don't know how to manage. Despite everything, I don't yet know from which angle and with which figures to illustrate all this, especially since these subjects also pull along many other geopolitical subjects (tension over Taiwan, tension over rare earths etc…), so we'll set that aside for future publication. We already have plenty to do with the first two subjects. With these orders of magnitude in mind, is AI " stratospherically " different from the rest? How does it compare with a Google search for example? Or with streaming, video call, an online video game? By comparison, a query to a search engine (Google) is approximately 0.2g of CO2 . Depending on the complexity of the question and the model used, an AI prompt can cost slightly less than a Google search, or up to five times more . So, it is not "stratospherically" higher than a standard web search. Furthermore, if a topic requires you to do multiple Google searches and open several websites to find your answer, the gap quickly narrows, and can even reverse. But we must separate simple uses: "give me the strawberry pie recipe", from complex uses: "analyze this PDF document of several megabytes for me and create an application that displays results with charts". I propose we do an exercise and compare 1 hour of streaming, 1 hour of gaming, 1 hour of video call, and one hour of AI-assisted software development (a relatively power-consuming use). ::callout{type=primary} Why such strong variations when considering AI-assisted development? Because it encompasses vastly different habits. Consumption will be drastically different between an "amateur" coder copy-pasting a few lines from a browser, a "pro" user partially delegating tasks within their code editor, and an "intensive" power-user running automated tools where code generation is almost entirely outsourced. :: In other words: No matter how you look at the data, it is hard to find evidence of a "stratospheric" gap. And to go further, we could look at the impact of AI model creation compared to the ecological impact of creating a video game, or a movie. An AAA video game (big-budget), developed by a team of 150 people, costs between 500 and 3,000 tonnes of CO2 depending on development time, travel, and motion-capture filming. To this, we must add the annual maintenance for live-service games that push out continuous updates and DLCs (like World of Warcraft or Overwatch ). For a big budget film, we can estimate a carbon cost between 3,000 and 4,000t of CO2 , including transport, filming locations, generators, set construction. Granted, training a massive AI model can cost more than a single movie, but the difference isn't orders of magnitude apart. More importantly, we must remember that the world releases thousands of films and video games every year , whereas the creation of new foundational AI models remains relatively rare. Let's be careful here. It would be lazy whataboutism to simply say, "Sure, AI is bad, but look at how much worse everything else is." That is missing the point. The real goal here is to question our consumption habits as a whole. What is certain, however, is that the reality is far more nuanced than the mainstream narrative suggests. Today, the hyper-focus on AI serves as a very convenient distraction, allowing us to forget the environmental cost of our other digital habits. But you don't earn moral virtue points by campaigning against AI while actively indulging in online gaming, streaming blockbusters, or flying to international sports events. If you've followed the numbers well, the ecological impact of AI is relatively close to other impacts in digital (streaming and gaming for example). That doesn't mean it's good. In the world we live in, each additional tension on the planet is to be questioned . But it forces us to realize that all of our digital behaviors need to be reassessed, not just the fact that "I asked ChatGPT a question." I don't pretend to be able to rank these activities against one another. Comparing gaming, streaming, and professional workloads is highly complex. And even within professional uses, And I certainly won't decide, on my own , what constitutes a "good" or "bad" use of technology. But collectively, we might soon be forced to make those choices , not out of kindness, but by constraints (See next chapter). The core issue isn't about outright banning AI. This is precisely what organizations like Shift Project , France’s leading think tank on the energy transition, are trying to convey: we need to look at data volumes and digital use cases in their entirety. The argument isn't that we should abandon AI altogether, but rather that we cannot afford its current, unchecked trajectory Let's take an example: the FIFA World Cup generates between 9 and 15 million tonnes of CO2, which is roughly equivalent to the annual energy consumption of all US data centers combined.. Again, the idea isn't to say, they do worse. We'll get nowhere with that mindset. But I like this example because of the contrast it highlights. Playing football doesn't cost much. Gathering thousands of people across 3 countries and having them fly everywhere is absurd, as is air-conditioning football stadiums, or trying to organize winter games in a desert country. AI operates on the exact same spectrum. There is a massive gulf between a professional, high-utility application, like using AI in biochemistry, mathematics, meteorology, drug discovery, medical imaging, satellite analysis, or precision agriculture, and a purely recreational use aimed at generating thousands of Ghibli-style images just to dump them on social media. Yes, we can, and should, question the latter (and that’s an understatement). Ultimately, understanding these orders of magnitude is what empowers us to make informed choices instead of just parroting the absurdities we hear on TV. Once you know the real numbers, you can weigh your choices accurately. I said earlier that one hour of video call was between 30 and 60g of CO2. Ok, but that might replace a Paris Lyon trip. By car it's between 60 and 90kg of CO2 saved. By train it's about 1kg. Similarly, one hour of streaming costs about 100g of CO2. But if it prevented you from driving 20km to the local movie theater (which would cost around 4.4kg of CO2 in car emissions), streaming turns out to be "not so bad" after all. In the end, once we have the data, it is up to each of us to make those choices. A question I asked myself before writing this article was: If the carbon footprint of AI is actually pretty close to our other digital habits, and assuming it replaces some of them (if I’m using AI, I’m not doing something else), why on earth are we building so many new data centers? Ok, this question might seem naive but it's estimated that data center electricity consumption could double, or even triple by 2030 (See BCG study and this IRIS article). So why? Is it linked to AI? According to articles, partly yes, but only partly. The majority of electricity consumed by data centers (about 2/3) should be dedicated to historical digital uses and acceleration of cloud migrations. Yes AI plays a role, but it's mainly that digital is taking up more and more space. The share of digital in global CO2 emissions went from 2% in 2010 to about 4% today, with an annual increase of about 6% even though the global objective is to reduce our emissions by 5% per year to hope to ++stabilize++ the climate . Where AI genuinely worsens the problem compared to other tech is its rapid hardware obsolescence. However, the root cause is the massive scale-up of all our digital habits: the ubiquity of 4K/8K streaming, cloud gaming, high-fidelity music streaming, and the explosion of connected IoT (Internet of Things) devices. Of course, we should take these data center growth forecasts with a grain of salt. They remain predictions. They could easily be overestimated, just like the predicted "tidal wave" of data that was supposed to arrive with 5G but never quite materialized. Many of these projections are pushed by tech giants that have bet their entire financial futures on these exact growth scenarios. If you are Nvidia, Google, or Oracle, you have no choice but to reassure your shareholders by guaranteeing this growth will happen to justify the colossal investments already made. Honestly, if the AI financial bubble were to burst tomorrow, it might actually be good news for the planet, as it would instantly ease the pressure on our resources. That being said, we are looking at contracts that are already signed, budgets locked in, and massive public announcements, like the Stargate project or Europe's future investments . Every current scenario predicts a 2x to 3x increase in demand. Digital consumption is going up, and AI-related infrastructure is leading the charge. Will these digital habits replace physical ones (like my earlier example of a video call replacing a car trip)? Or are they purely additive ? Evidence suggests they are additive. While some AI applications will certainly accelerate decarbonization in specific industries, that impact remains relatively marginal for now. And, according to the Shift Project, it's mainly that the electrical consumption needed to run all these data centers will exceed our infrastructure capacity, and thus force using thermal sources (gas power plant) to compensate or create usage conflicts . So yes, it's alarming. Again, it's not about banning AI, the subject is much more global than that. How do we make our consumption and pressure on the planet decrease? At our individual scale, we have to audit our own habits. We need to question our obsession with upgrading devices, over-equipping our homes, and engaging in mindless, heavy recreational uses (like generating endless Ghibli images just for a laugh). At a collective level, we will eventually be forced, likely much sooner than we think, to make hard choices. We will have to decide whether to route precious electricity to a data center or to power and heat local homes . But let’s remember one crucial thing: the future isn’t set in stone. If we collectively choose to consume less, we won't need the electricity these companies are dying to sell us. If data centers are multiplying, it's only because there is a planned demand for them. To paraphrase a famous French comedian: "To think that if people just stopped buying, it wouldn't sell anymore!" The Doomers (declinists) who envision an ecological apocalypse, total destruction of employment and placing public opinions under the guardianship of Big Tech controlling AI. And the Bloomers (accelerationists), who advocate blind faith in progress, convinced that AI will liberate humanity, eradicate diseases and generate infinite growth, and for whom slowing research is the real crime. Electricity consumption (which translates into CO2 emissions) Water consumption for cooling data centers Resource extraction, required to build the data centers and user devices themselves There is only a 2x ratio between gaming and professional AI-assisted development. video call is what consumes the least Streaming is remarkably close to professional AI development usage

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Unsung 3 days ago

“Animating something and animating something well are two very different things.”

From Jakub Krehel, a new blog post about self constraint in the era when AI makes it easy to ignore constraints altogether. My caveat is that the post doesn’t fully come together for me – jumping from AI to animations and then back to AI the way the author did does not feel cohesive. At the same time, in the middle of the post, there are some nice examples of animating juxtaposed with overanimating that caught my attention. We talked about sugar and juice before, and this adds to that conversation. Here’s one example: Not all animations need to be wholly meaningful and functional – just like not all graphic design, iconography, and typography have to be – but part of growth as a designer is knowing how to limit your budget of “superfluous” stuff even if no one else tells you to, and then in spending that budget really, really well. #ai #craft #motion design

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Jim Nielsen 4 days ago

What’s an Icon in 2026?

As icons continue to change across Apple’s platforms, I have thoughts. They mainly revolve around two perspectives: Let’s see if I can articulate my thoughts. In “Create icons with Icon Composer” from WWDC 2025, Lyan Bewry from Apple’s Design Team gives the rationale for why developers should use Apple’s new Icon Composer: Icon design is moving from a past of simply static images, to a future of expressive, multi-layered artworks that respond to user input and adapt between appearances. They’ve become a much richer and more integrated experience on-device. Catch that? Icons are moving from a “static” past to an “expressive, multi-layered […] much richer” future. You may have noticed this in some of Apple’s latest OS releases, how lighting effects, customizations, etc., can all affect what an icon looks like at any given moment within the operating system. So what are these files made by Icon Composer? In the Accidental Tech Podcast episode 699 “Not the Correct Squircle” John Siracusa talks about some of the technical details and differences between app icons in macOS 26 (Tahoe) and 27 (Golden Gate): These files, this format that Apple came up with, it’s a bunch of resources and a recipe. So it’s like bitmaps, vector images, layers, recipes and effects. That’s what it is. And these icons are assembled on the fly by the operating system. It doesn’t burn up bitmaps of them. I take your ingredients, I assembled them, I composite them, I apply your layer effects, and then eventually it renders a bitmap that it keeps in memory somewhere. Who is thinking about backwards compatibility in their icons? Tahoe’s effects are different than 27’s effects […] And also, 27 has effects that 26 doesn’t support. And 26 won't even read the files from 27, which makes everything complicated. Complicated indeed. As noted, the days of a single, static image for icons are over. An app icon is no longer a PNG file. It’s a bit of a Schrödinger’s icon if you will. There’s no longer a universal answer for “What does your app icon look like?” An icon is simultaneously light, dark, glass, tinted, etc.. Only once it is “observed” — that is rendered at runtime on a device with settings applied (user preferences, device angle, etc.) — can you really know what it looks like. An icon now has a runtime. I don’t know. Icons are effective because of their ability to be quickly recognizable and memorable. Visual simplicity and consistency support that. Making something more “expressive” and “richer”, to me, means conveying more. But icons are meant, to a degree, to convey less. Only the essential. That’s what makes them effective. There’s definitely a point where, the more they convey, the less effective they are at their purpose. The more you move away from a singular, visual representation, the more room there is for confusion and greater cognitive effort for discernment. Take, for example, Apple’s Phone app. What’s the icon for it? Can you picture it in your head? It’s a green icon with a white phone glyph. That’s what it was in the original iPhone keynote (and it’s what the Phone app will always be to me). Iconic! But wait! Now it’s also a black icon with a green phone glyph if you’re in dark mode. And there’s more! It’s a clear glass icon with a phone glyph if you’re in clear mode. And! It’s [insert color here] with a phone glyph if you’ve tinted it. Consistent color is a strong ingredient in aiding memorability and recognizability. Look at Coke: Simplicity matters. It aids recognizability and memorability. If you start making it more complicated and more varied, you lose what made it simple, recognizable, and memorable to begin with. And what are app icons but visual tools for immediate recognizability? Anyway, now that app icons have a runtime and will increasingly vary in their appearance, I’m not sure how to archive them anymore. This story is still developing… Reply via: Email · Mastodon · Bluesky What I think of icons as a long-time user of Apple’s platforms. What I think of icons as a digital collector and physical archivist of icons. Red can? Coke Black can? Coke Zero Silver can? Diet Coke

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seated.ro 4 days ago

You fail to learn if you don't learn to fail

If all your time is spent watching output tokens, where do your input tokens come from? Letting an agent rip on full auto is basically doom scrolling. Even worse if you're doom scrolling while the agent runs. We humans love frying our dopamine receptors. This feels great until you realize what you were offloading: the struggle. The part where you fail. Failure is the entire point. You don't make progress in the gym unless you take a set at least close to failure. The muscle only adapts when it's forced to. It is no different for the brain. It is very hard to admit to yourself that your skills have atrophied. It is even harder to admit this to other people. I will admit that over the past several months my brain has gotten smoother (and I wasn't even on Twitter much!). Recently, I had written an abstraction for my diff viewer ( diffy ), an element system with a macro that lets agents write html-like code in rust for native ui (they reason better with this). But it wasn't adopted everywhere in the repo yet, so when I asked for a new feature, the model decided to hand paint it straight to the viewport instead. Every behavior the element system gives you for free was just... missing. Text wasn't selectable. Hover highlights wouldn't go away. And since I wasn't looking closely, it iterated on the slop and produced more slop, more bugs. I just kept saying continue. I lost a whole day untangling it, and the funny part is that once I actually looked at what it had built, every bug was the same bug. When you hit a roadblock and your immediate reaction is to reach for something else (previously, this used to be other people, but now it is a language model) you are essentially skipping the part where you actually learn to solve the problem. It is funny how one of the best "learning tools" has turned out to be the number one cause (anecdotal. sue me) of the lack of learning! It's been a few months since I started writing this, and things have gotten more dire. Several major software services barely work now, grown engineers I once respected are writing somber posts about missing a language model that was banned for a while. Mourning. For model weights. It's all so dystopian. As the agents get better, one is basically expected to produce code at an alarming rate. The timeline to get something done is compressed but the time it takes to come up with solutions to hard problems has not. There are usually a few good abstractions one can come up with that balance the upsides and tradeoffs for most software problems. However it is currently trivial to turn your brain off and let the slop flow. The code will be complex. It might look like it all works, but something always breaks. And the solution to that? More slop. Software quality is collapsing as a result, and the societal expectation that engineers understand what they ship is disappearing. You never understood the code in the first place. So when you need to change it, you're asking the same stateless clanker to modify code it has no memory of writing. All output tokens and zero thinking tokens. A lower barrier of entry to write software doesn't imply the standards for good software must be lowered. The growing trend is to do things because you now can (supposedly), but we used to try and do things because we could not out of sheer stubbornness. Carmack and gang shipped QuakeWorld with client-side prediction over dial-up when the conventional wisdom was that twitch shooters over the internet were unplayable. This only happened because Quake's original netcode was laggy and everyone hated it. (They fixed it in a month.) George Dantzig arrived late to class, mistook two "unsolvable" statistics problems for homework, and solved them. Nobody told him they were impossible, so he just did the work. Andrew Wiles spent seven years alone in his attic working on Fermat's Last Theorem, a problem mathematicians had given up on for 350 years. He announced the proof, a reviewer found a hole in it, and he spent another year fixing that too. Notice that all three of them became who they are because of the struggle, not despite it. The people benefiting most from generative tools today, say Terence Tao or Mitchell Hashimoto, already put in the time, so when they offload work they're just skipping the typing. When people like you and me (if this is not you, then I apologize) offload, we skip the grind itself. With language models, easy tasks got easier, hard tasks stayed hard. The hard part was never the task itself. I don't know, I am figuring this out as I go. The amount of time I have spent actually programming has been dropping month over month this year. I used to have a coding stats section on my website that would track hours I spent writing code split by language, recently I had updated it to this: and it made me quite sad. I do think that sometimes all you need is to realize that the thing you are doing is actually detrimental to your growth. Consistency matters more than one would assume. If you consistently take some time away from these tools and actually use your brain, that alone is already significantly better than offloading your thoughts. Solve the problems yourself. Or at least try, fail, and spend time thinking. There is seemingly no "learning" phase anymore. You are expected to just know things. Learning is fun, don't let anyone take this away from you. I've written about this before . It is probably going to be slow, learning takes time and effort. You will feel stupid (I feel stupid). This is a good feeling, because there exists a world where you are no longer stupid and the path towards it is learning. Books still exist! Libraries are still open, notebooks waiting to be written in. Read more. Write more. If you really do care about improving yourself, be honest and use these models for what they are, highly efficient filters of zettabytes of data (the internet is estimated to be 175-240 zettabytes ( 10^{21} bytes)). It was extremely difficult to identify what one needed to read to learn niche topics even like 2 years ago. I remember asking a good friend of mine to recommend material to dive deep into learning about SIMD, and honestly there wasn't much stuff to read except the Intel Intrinsics Guide. And if you've ever taken a look at that, it is quite cancerous for a first-time reader. Language models are super useful here because you can point them at material and you can ask questions that pertain to the thing you care about and it will simply just tell you the correct things. One good thing in this age of slop is to consume knowledge at an unbelievable pace. I don't necessarily mean using only model output for learning (I don't trust them to learn any topic more than a shallow amount), but rather using them to help sift through the plethora of information available out there and identifying the right things to read. Human slop exists too and using a language model to supplement your learning might help keep you sane (ironically). I like using these models to write code that I tell it to write (outside of work I enjoy doing it myself entirely), and I am largely disinterested in asking it what I should write. There are exceptions of course, because not everyone is working on scaling software services which has largely been solved (but slowly being forgotten), but that would be for you to decide. The best model you have access to (and it has solved continual learning) is, and always has been, the one inside your skull. It's time to scale up its input tokens.

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Unsung 5 days ago

“Not being good at something doesn’t mean you can’t love it.”

Perhaps ironically given the subject matter, I found this 34-minute video by Razbuten a bit intense, but I would still recommend it to people who work on onboarding, settings, etc.: = 2x) and (width >= 700px)" srcset="https://unsung.aresluna.org/_media/not-being-good-at-something-doesnt-mean-you-cant-love-it/yt1-play.2096w.avif" type="image/avif"> = 3x) or (width >= 700px)" srcset="https://unsung.aresluna.org/_media/not-being-good-at-something-doesnt-mean-you-cant-love-it/yt1-play.1600w.avif" type="image/avif"> In the video, the author tries to answer the question: how to make any given game a challenge, given there is no universal standard of difficulty and every player arrives at a game not just with different skillset, but also likely different goals. There are many techniques a game can use to adapt to the player – a simple upfront difficulty selector, complex difficulty settings, a training level, adaptive difficulty, accessibility/​assist modes – but there are no easy answers. Each method comes with pros and cons, and perhaps the very notion that a game should adapt to the user is flawed; some players might find it more rewarding to have to step up to the game instead. In the video, Razbuten covers a lot of examples really well. I’m not going to say any of this maps 1:1 to productivity software as goals of games are very different than goals of apps… but even though I have never played any of the games mentioned, the examples made me think. After all, some of the psychology of mastery will be the same between these two realms. (I bet there were at least some of you who saw the previous post about LaTeX and thought “this looks hard and fascinating – I’m going in,” and others took a note to never approach it.) #flow #games #onboarding #settings #youtube

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Premium: The Hater's Guide To The Memory Crisis

Hi premium readers! I’ll be taking a week off of the premium next week — July 17 — to have some well-earned rest. This will mark only the second time I’ve missed a premium piece since I started this newsletter in June 2025, and I hope you’ll forgive me for the (short) break. Don’t worry. Today’s piece is also an absolute banger. Everything’s more expensive, and it’s all AI’s fault. It really is that simple.  An AI data center is full of servers, which are in turn full of (for the most part) NVIDIA GPUs. Each NVIDIA GB300 has two B300 GPUs, the two of which have 576GB of High Bandwidth Memory (HBM, or HBM3e to be specific), and a CPU, which has 480GB of lower-power LPDDR5X RAM (the kind usually used in cellphones and other mobile devices). These systems tend to be sold in an NVL72 rack with 18 compute trays, bringing us to 36 GB300s , for a total of 20.7 terabytes of HBM and 17 terabytes of LPDDR5X RAM, and that’s before you get to the RAM associated with the high-speed networking gear and other associated components. Analyst estimates have the cost of the high bandwidth memory of a single NVL72 GB300 at around $15.27 per gigabyte, for a total of around $316,000 of HBM, and while I can’t seem to find a stable source for pricing around LPDDR5X, I think a fair estimate is around $4 per gigabyte based on this piece , so around $68,000 worth per NVL72 rack. At around 150kW of power draw per NVL72 , a 1GW data center (with 740MW of critical IT load) would have around 4,933 NVL7s racks — for a total of $ 1.894 billion in HBM and LPDDR5X costs, or around $2.559 million of HBM and LPDDR5X RAM per megawatt of IT load.  Oh, and each of these NVL72s can hold as much as a petabyte of expensive solid state storage, costing an additional tens of thousands of dollars.  Because HBM takes up more space on a wafer — the slice of semiconductor material that is etched using photolithography ( read: molten tin ) and then cut into separate dies (individual chips) — and generally has much higher margins (thanks to the triopoly of Samsung, SK Hynix and Micron), memory manufacturers are dedicating more space on their manufacturing lines to it than to regular consumer RAM, which allows (thanks to said triopoly) said manufacturers to charge effectively whatever they want for consumer RAM. And thanks to AI — to quote Tom’s Hardware and Counterpoint Research — NVIDIA is buying that LPDDR5X RAM at the scale of an Apple or a Samsung: The net result is pretty simple: every single consumer electronic of any kind is getting more expensive. Valve’s Steam Machine console debuted at a 30% higher price point than planned , Apple hiked the prices of its MacBooks and iPads and will likely have to do the same for its next iPhone . Nintendo , Microsoft and Sony increased the cost of their consoles, and the PS5 and Xbox Series now cost more today than they did when they first retailed, almost six years ago.  On the Android front, Samsung has bumped the price of its Galaxy smartphones , and manufacturers in this space (which tends to have smaller margins than those enjoyed by Apple) are likely to limit the number of new devices shipping with 16GB of RAM, as well as re-introduce models with 4GB of RAM   .  Meanwhile, memory manufacturers are having record quarters, with Micron’s revenue quadrupling year-over-year in Q3 2026 and its gross margin improving by ten percent (from 74.9% to 84.9%) quarter-over-quarter, and Samsung’s profits growing from $38 billion to $59 billion quarter-over-quarter thanks to the spiralling cost of revenue caused by…well…the companies setting the price of memory at whatever they’d like. This is a problem caused by the fact that these three companies — SK Hynix, Micron and Samsung — produce more than 90% of the world’s RAM, which is why there’s a price fixing lawsuit against them , per Polygon: To be clear, HBM is more expensive to make than regular RAM, and takes up significantly more space ( about 4x more ) on the wafer, but because of the incredible demand for AI servers, Samsung, SK Hynix, and Micron can charge effectively whatever they want for it, much like they are for the regular RAM that’s in short supply. The same is becoming increasingly true for the solid state storage that these companies (and others like Sandisk) sell too. Now, you may think it’s a little rich to suggest that memory manufacturers are colluding to rig their prices, perhaps a little judgmental , and you’d be wrong because they’ve done it before. Quoting Polygon again : To be clear, I am not saying — nor can I prove — that there is any kind of price-fixing or collusion going on. Nevertheless, there are three companies that effectively make all the world’s RAM, all raising prices at the same time, all seeing record profits, all riding high at a time when everybody else is suffering as a direct result.  The Wall Street Journal put it best : What makes this particular memory crisis so distinctly dangerous is that it isn’t a result of consumer demand so much as it is capital expenditures from very large companies making bets that don’t connect with reality.   Microsoft, Google, Amazon, and Meta aren’t spending $765 billion in capex in 2026 because of rapid demand by consumers for AI services, but a desperation caused by a lack of hypergrowth ideas , circular financing with Anthropic and OpenAI , and a vague concern that if they stop spending that the other guy will do something as a result. As I discussed earlier in the week , nobody can make a compelling case for building more data centers other than “we must do so, because of AI.” Nobody is having trouble accessing ChatGPT, Claude or another major AI service because of a lack of compute, outside of Anthropic and OpenAI’s continual rapacious hunger for more compute that doesn’t ever seem to involve them turning away business. While price increases generally help moderate demand for goods or services, none of that matters when you have four companies willing to spend a trillion dollars a year on the off chance that they might get something out of it .  As a result, Micron, Samsung, and SK Hynix can charge effectively as much as they want, and NVIDIA and others building black holes for AI capex can then pass those costs onto Microsoft, Google, Amazon, and Meta, who have given themselves a blank check to build whatever it is that they think will come out of the large language model era. Put another way, the capex spend of four of the largest companies of the world — all of whom are now funding their capex using debt — has now led to the single-largest increase in the price of consumer electronics in history, for the most part thanks to one company, NVIDIA, becoming the largest purchaser of HBM in the world because those four companies are buying so many GPUs.  To give you an idea of how bad that is, NVIDIA takes up roughly 65% of all high bandwidth memory, with the other 35% (mostly) going to specialist ASICs from Google and Amazon, and AMD’s Instinct line of AI GPUs.  This is a unique — and uniquely dangerous — bubble, because demand isn’t based on actual revenues or events happening outside of those in the imaginations of Sundar Pichai, Mark Zuckerberg, Andy Jassy and Satya Nadella. They didn’t start buying these GPUs because consumers demanded them. In fact, they did so without really checking whether consumers gave a shit, which is why I’m so worried about what comes next.  Only 23% of total DRAM wafers are taken up by HBM , but it’s accounting for a remarkable chunk of revenues, at least for SK Hynix, where it took up 40% of all DRAM sales back in Q3 2025 , the most-recent number I can get.  While I can’t find definitive numbers from Samsung or Micron, the situation is bad no matter which way you spin it. Either they’re increasingly-relying on HBM as a revenue driver to the point it’s crowding out the revenue from their other DRAM businesses (making them dependent on GPU and ASIC revenue), or their revenues are spiking because they’re able to crank up the cost of DRAM. This is setting everybody up for a dramatic and painful collapse, largely based on the strange nature of how memory is built and sold, unless cooler heads prevail and capex doesn’t accelerate based on hopium.  What happens when hyperscalers reduce their capex, or when banks stop issuing data center debt ? NVIDIA stops needing all that HBM, which means any and all capex dedicated to expanding manufacturing  infrastructure to produce more HBM — which is not particularly valuable outside of AI GPUs — will have been built to capture demand that doesn’t exist. While that capacity could be re-engineered to make useful DRAM with mass appeal, doing so will also drag down the profits of every memory manufacturer in the process, creating a supply glut the likes of which we’ve never seen in history.  The memory industry has gambled its financial future on the idea that there’s near-infinite amounts of capital available for data center capex, adjusting its supply chains and fabs to focus on scooping up demand that’s increasingly only made possible by the availability of debt. Microsoft, Google, Amazon and Meta have turned NVIDIA into a single point of failure for the entire tech industry, creating a painful present for consumers and a brutal future for suppliers, all because they decided to spend more than a trillion dollars on a dead end industry. The longer it takes for hyperscaler capex to retract, the more expensive everything becomes. The more GPUs that get sold, the more capacity that gets put toward high bandwidth memory, and the more that Micron, SK Hynix and Samsung can charge for it, which makes it more expensive to buy AI GPUs, which increases the amount that hyperscalers are spending on AI capex for effectively the same amount of gear. The longer that hyperscalers sustain this pace, the larger the return needs to be, and at this point, none of them have disclosed their AI revenues, which heavily suggests there’s yet to be a dollar of profit.  Yet the more they commit, the more committed they have to be. Pulling back at this point will prove to the markets that they’ve committed to too much capacity. Yet not pulling back means that hyperscalers will continue to turn their free cash flows negative in pursuit of an indeterminate goal. It’s a vicious cycle made worse by the fact that every spin of the capex wheel increases the price of just about every consumer electronic in the world , creating a market-wide inflation for what amounts to a speculative asset bubble. And If even one hyperscaler cuts their capex, the cartel-like memory industry is in for a nightmare scenario, one larger and uglier than any they’ve ever faced.  In the end, it all comes down to whose problem this high bandwidth memory becomes. Will SK Hynix, Samsung, and Micron have already built the RAM and face waves of cancellations, resulting in a bunch of fallow inventory it can’t use or sell? Or will they already have shipped it off to NVIDIA and ASIC builders, only for it to sit in warehouses waiting for the day it can finally be melted down? Who will end up holding the bag? The cartel of horrible fab-gargoyles, Jensen Huang’s Wallet Inspection Firm, one of the four simpleton hyperscalers, Broadcom, or one of the Taiwanese ODMs?  Just to be clear: everybody loses, unless the AI bubble continues in perpetuity. This is the Hater’s Guide To The Memory Crisis — and the terrible tale of the boom-and-bust memory industry.

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Kev Quirk 6 days ago

Extinct

Author: RR Haywood Genre: Sci-fi Released: 2018 Rating: ★★★★☆ The end of the world has been avoided—for now. With Miri and her team of extracted heroes still on the run, Mother, the disgraced former head of the British Secret Service, has other ideas… While Mother retreats to her bunker to plot her next move, Miri, Ben, Safa and Harry travel far into the future to ensure that they have prevented the apocalypse. But what they find just doesn’t make sense. London in 2111 is on the brink of annihilation. What’s more, the timelines have been twisted. Folded in on each other. It’s hard to keep track of who is where. Or, more accurately, who is when. The clock is ticking for them all. With nothing left to lose but life itself, our heroes must stop Mother—or die trying. Learn more on Goodreads ➡ I've really enjoyed this series - I'm a big fan of Haywood's writing, as regular readers will already know, I've read a few of his books . This one took me a little while to get through though; not because it was bad, just because I've had a lot going on at home, so haven't had much time for reading recently. Haywood recently released book #4 in this series, Rebirth, which I've already bought. But I don't know if I should take a break from the series. I have the Red Rising books on my Kindle and everyone keeps telling me how good they are, so I may jump over and start those. Any recommendations? Thanks for reading this post via RSS. RSS is ace, and so are you. ❤️ You can reply to this post by email , or leave a comment .

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