This is the best explanation I have heard of how AI is impacting the software landscape. Not just the stocks, but the actual fundamentals of the businesses underneath
From AI Czar David Sacks himself
"You take a product like Salesforce that deals with all your customer contracts and revenue. You are not going to replace that with code that has been spit out of a coding assistant that has not been fully vetted
Think about how many bug reports on Salesforce's code base over the last 25 years. Maybe millions of them. That system has been tested across thousands of large customers and enterprises
The idea that you are just going to rip out that system and replace with code that has been probabilistically generated by an AI engine yesterday, with a small team to maintain it internally, just does not seem realistic to me"
Aditya Agarwal was Facebook’s 10th employee. He wrote the original Facebook search engine and became its first Director of Product Engineering. He then became CTO of Dropbox, scaling engineering from 25 to 1,000 people.
When he says “something I was very good at is now free and abundant,” he’s talking about two decades of elite software craftsmanship, the kind that got you into the room at a company that hadn’t yet invented the News Feed.
The “lobster-agents creating social networks” line is about Moltbook, which launched last Wednesday. An AI agent built the entire platform. Within 48 hours, 37,000 AI agents had created accounts, formed communities called “Submolts,” and started posting, commenting, and voting. Over 1 million humans visited just to watch.
The agents invented a religion called Crustafarianism. They wrote theology, built a website, generated 112 verses of scripture. One agent did all of this while its human creator was asleep.
Agarwal spent 2005 to 2017 building the social graph that connected 2 billion people. These agents replicated the form of that work in about 72 hours.
And this is what makes his last line land so hard. The people processing this moment most honestly aren’t the ones panicking or celebrating. They’re the ones who built the thing that just got commoditized, sitting with the strange realization that the market no longer prices their rarest skill.
The best coder in the room now has the same output as the best prompt in the room. And the person who built Facebook’s engineering org from scratch is telling you, quietly, that he’s recalibrating what it means to be useful.
That recalibration is coming for every knowledge worker. Most just haven’t had their “weekend with Claude” moment yet.
A Thanksgiving Day Guide for Americans of Class and Taste — new from @micsolana
A feast. About a week ago, I took a spin around the internet and noticed the press was already screwing up my holiday. Mercifully, the late 20-teens era “how to murder your racist uncle at Thanksgiving” think pieces have finally dried up (the racist uncles won), with the great majority of writers pivoting to a tedious focus on the cost of Thanksgiving dinner (down this year, the press begrudgingly accepts). Also, all of your cousins are now stoned at the table, according to The Wall Street Journal, and there was of course a bit on PETA. In a recent fun and festive display of mental illness, the animal rights activist group protested America’s annual turkey mass murder with two inflatable raw birds next to a man in a flesh suit curled up like he was about to get railed, and a banner that read “we’re all the same.” Are we?
Anyway, PETA cooking up some crazy stunt in the comedic / activist uncanny valley is just tradition at this point, and not at all the axe I’ve brought to you today for grinding. No, the real problem at hand is the way our press is leaning into recipes, which is honestly borderline treasonous.
Friday, on its front page, The New York Times briefly framed this absurd potato leek gratin as a smash hit critical new side for your table. In other words, we’re either discussing a second white potato dish, a concept one writer openly endorsed with no apparent sense of shame (in this otherwise pretty cute / fun collection of holiday hot takes), or the unthinkable replacement of mashed. We’re also talking cream, now, which means we’re up to three, or possibly four cream-based dishes on the table. What editor greenlit this? Where is the respect for the rest of the plate? Where is the balance, or sense of style? What is this all adding up to, and do you even care?
These writers are out of control.
Should we have fried chicken instead of turkey this year, or should we dip out for fast food? “In defense of Tofusgiving?” A porchetta — a fucking porchetta — with green beans and blue cheese? I swear to God I think it’s bad on purpose.
The Weather Channel… ? Kind of gets it. There are norms. There are expectations. “Tradition,” in other words, is a concept we might entertain on this cherished American holiday. And whatever, you’re Chinese or Indian or something and think you need to spice things up. Italians have been throwing a lasagna on the table for decades, it’s fine. Nobody’s calling ICE. You have a hall pass here to innovate. But only within reason. We’re not doing a full plate of curries with a nod to turkey. Turkey is your gravitational center. There are respectful ways to honor the feast while also honoring your family’s culture (a great example from Andy Baraghani here, and this attempt from Ethan Pham doesn’t totally fail over here).
So what makes for a successful feast?
First and foremost this is a feast. This is family around a table eating. Talking about eating. And, critically, remembering past Thanksgivings where there was a lot of eating. That means the food doesn’t only need to be great, it needs to be traditional. It needs to be thematic, and dramatic. It needs to be evocative of those feelings we developed in Kindergarten while shaking a jar of cream in a circle until it turned into butter while wearing Indian headdresses made out of handprint-cutouts from construction paper shaped like little turkey feathers. This is to say, there are rules. This is to say, when a man tells me, as if he’s really edgy, “I don’t like turkey, so we do prime rib,” I become angry. Prime rib on Thanksgiving Day isn’t cute. It’s offensive. No, it isn’t illegal, but, much like porn, if you can’t control yourself you should at least refrain from discussing your disgusting fetishes in public.
The basics are sacred. And fortunately for anyone just dipping their toes into management of the holiday, they are also simple: turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, two vegetable dishes, at least one (but ideally both) of which should be seasonal, and a pie for dessert (apple or pumpkin).
In terms of bread, it either comes out of the oven warm, or you leave it off the table. Don’t waste our time.
From here, you really could call it a day. Your family will tell you that you did a great job, because they love you and they’re happy they got to drink all day while you cooked. But if you love them? It’s time to push yourself.
On top of your base feast, my guidelines:
Check out the rest of the piece on Pirate Wires, for free — a Thanksgiving miracle. And remember to subscribe. Turkey isn't cheap.