标签：#agi

This post was originally published on the main website on Apr 16 2026 . I am reposting it here for SEO reasons and enabling humble bumble discussions with the DEV community. Feel free to engage with this post and i am available to respond during weekends. Sorry about the spam posting all the blogs in one day. I forgor about my dev account <3! Hey everyone 👋, In my last few posts, I have been building a case, one piece at a time, that the direction most of the AI industry is moving in is not the direction that will produce genuine intelligence. In LLMs are Useful. LMMs will Break Reality , I argued that language models are trapped inside a symbolic cage, that they can describe the world without ever touching it, and that the transition from text-prediction to mathematical perception is the most important shift happening in AI right now. In Mathematical Equations are Multimodal by default , I argued that equations are not tools for homework but the most compressed and honest representations of reality that humans have ever produced, and that any system built around equations inherits their multimodal power for free. In LLMs destroyed the Internet. LMMs will make it alive. , I argued that the mass deployment of language models as content factories has quietly dissolved the authenticity that made the web worth using, and that only grounded intelligence tied to reality can reverse that damage. Each of those posts was a different face of the same underlying argument, which is that the current paradigm is built on a foundation that looks impressive from the outside and is rotten from the inside. And in this post I want to say the thing that connects all of those faces, the thing that I have been circling around for months without quite naming directly, because I was not sure I had earned the right to say it yet. The thing is this: training, as it is currently practiced and celebrated in the AI industry, is not a neutral engineering choice. It is a moral choice that most of

This post was originally published on the main website on Apr 14 2026 . I am reposting it here for SEO reasons and enabling humble bumble discussions with the DEV community. Feel free to engage with this post and i am available to respond during weekends. Sorry about the spam posting all the blogs in one day. I forgor about my dev account <3! Hey everyone 👋, I want to warn you upfront that this post is going to sound strange. I am a software engineer who spends most of his days thinking about rust compilers, physics-informed neural networks, and why language models are not as intelligent as the marketing says they are. I wrote about that in LLMs are Useful. LMMs will Break Reality , and I stand by every word. But today I want to do something different. I want to go back, way back, not to the sixties or the nineties or even to Turing, but to ancient Egypt, to a time when pharaohs were gods and the Nile was the spine of the world, and I want to make a case that feels almost absurd the first time you hear it. The case is this: the pharaonic civilization was the first human system to achieve something functionally equivalent to artificial superintelligence, not through silicon or transformers or gradient descent, but through symbols, mathematics, architecture, administration, and the compression of collective human knowledge into durable physical and textual form. I am not saying the pharaohs had computers. I am saying they built something that no individual human mind could contain, and they made it run for thousands of years, and it was smarter than any of its parts. That is the definition I care about, and by that definition, they did it first. I know how that sounds. I know some people will close this tab immediately. But I am asking you to stay, because the argument is more rigorous than the title suggests, and because I think it connects directly to the questions I have been asking in every post I have written so far. In Language is Limited. ASI is Impossible. , I

Everybody says AI governance matters. They are right. But that is the easy part. The harder part is...

Nintendo had a hotline where gamers could, at the time, call and speak with 'Game Counsellors' who provided them with tips and walkthroughs. It operated for quite sometime before Nintendo sunset it. There are a few (Product) lessons from this that I am sure will be of value to Product Leaders. 1- Necessity (Invention's mother) : The necessity of a situation usually births the creation of something that stands out from the rest. While Nintendo was not the first to use a phone as a 'business' function, it proved it can be used in the context of a video gaming community. That was their ‘necessity’. "We need a way to accomplish ‘xyz’ " usually turns to creating something specific to that situation. The ‘xyz’ in Nintendo’s case was supporting gamers instantly. It could also be something to support a Product or make it easier for the customer. It could be a feature or it could even be the Product itself. All we need to do is pay attention to our necessities, needs and allow it to guide us. Most people are not paying attention to their needs that’s why innovation and improvements appear difficult. Others know what their necessities are but prioritise wrongly – well that’s story for another day. The point here is simply to build for a necessary problem that exists and not out of assumptions. 2- Know what is available immediately : If necessity is calling, we cannot keep it waiting. We need to look around to know what’s available immediately. In most cases we do not need to go far for solution, we just need to pick what is close by then structure it to align with current needs. Sometimes the necessity demands using/importing an idea from some other place into your own specific area. In retrospect, Nintendo had other options it could have considered at that era in time. During that period, it was common to use print media to relate with the computer (and also gaming) community. There was also postal mail, bulleting boards. I do not know for sure but I am guessing the team at

Copernicus Browser adds wildfire visualization amid record wildfire season.

My favorite metaphor for brutal cognitive dissonance — the one we will likely experience when the Singularity actually arrives — is “ the knight in the supermarket .” I prefer the word “chevalier,” though, so I’ll be using that going forward. Try to imagine the following scene: a medieval chevalier, somewhere on the land of current Germany, riding his horse, heavily armored, helmet on, big sword. The year is 1450, and our chevalier is just charging in a small battle against some equally armed neighbors. But then something happens. A short circuit in the space-time continuum and our chevalier is fast forwarded to the current times, but in the exact same location. Where, of course, there is a supermarket now. The lights. The shiny shelves with thousands of small, colored objects. The cold near the meat sector. The TVs rotating ads with faces of women talking in a slightly similar language, but saying words he cannot understand. At this moment, it’s safe to say that our chevalier is completely lost. He has no idea how light is made (no “electricity” concept in his mind), no way to know how cold is made inside a building (no “refrigerator”), no way to understand what the tiny packages on the shelves are (“chemistry” is closer to alchemy for him) and no way to understand remote communication (“television” doesn’t simply exist). He can still walk around, but the world will feel almost hostile to him. We’re Not in the Singularity. Not Yet Now let’s get back to the current X timeline, where everybody is screaming that we’re in AGI. In the Singularity. The world will never be the same. This changes everything. But does it, really? Are we experiencing the same cognitive gap as our chevalier in the supermarket? I don’t think so. The world is keep worlding right now, except for a very small percentage of people who are subjecting themselves to some AI-related psychosis. All we’ve done so far is cramming a LOT of compute into tiny digital artifacts that are nothing more than ver

Process mismatch In tools built for Scrum, a task is an input: something you file, size, and work on. In Shape Up, a task is an output — something discovered while building work that was already shaped and bet on. That's the core mismatch, and it plays out differently depending on the tool. Jira Jira does exactly what it was built to do. Its shape is Scrum's shape: a backlog, estimates, sprints. Teams bring Shape Up in anyway and try to make it fit the tool's shape. A scope becomes an epic. A task becomes a ticket. The pitch — Shape Up's document for a problem, its appetite, and a proposed solution — has no equivalent object in Jira, so it ends up living in a Confluence doc, disconnected from the work it's supposed to govern. The substitutions are each small and reasonable on their own: An estimate field is there, so it gets filled in — and the velocity report looks broken without it. Losing bets need somewhere to go, so they land in the backlog. They aren't dead, they're waiting — and now someone has to groom them. Appetite ("how much is this worth") quietly reverts to estimate ("how long will this take"). Before long, the team is running Scrum, with a backlog-refinement meeting back on the calendar. The tool's requirements pull the ceremonies back in. Linear Linear is fast and well made. It even has cycles. The mismatch here isn't a quality problem — it's an inheritance problem. Linear carries the same assumptions as Scrum, just executed better. When a cycle ends with work unfinished, Linear rolls it forward automatically into the next one. It's meant as a convenience feature. It's also the inverse of Shape Up's circuit breaker. Shape Up's bet is that the deadline is real. The whole mechanism depends on a hard stop forcing a decision — cut the scope and ship what's done, while there's still time to make that call. A tool that quietly carries unfinished work forward removes the one moment the method needs. Every six weeks, it says: the deadline was just a suggestio

I'm a scrum master. I was a developer ten years ago. I have enough background to discuss design and trade-offs with an LLM — but three months ago I made a deliberate bet on my solo project: I would never read the code. The specs define the tests. The tests control the code. The code is a black box. I'm not claiming this is what everyone should do. But it's my bet, and it forced a system into existence: when nobody reads the code, the process has to carry the trust that a code-reading human normally provides. I've just published that system as a reference implementation: backlog-as-data — the full writeup, the Claude Code skills translated to English, and the CLI source, verbatim from my daily setup. Here's the short version. The backlog is git data, not a document Most agent task-management tools store tasks in a dedicated place — a tasks.json , a database, a backlog/ folder. My bet is different: the backlog is the YAML frontmatter of my spec files. One file per ticket, and the ticket's status is a field — never a location in a document. --- id : PARSE-07 title : Tolerate CRLF in decklist import type : ticket status : todo priority : should exec : model : sonnet effort : think review : light matured : 2026-07-22 --- # PARSE-07 — Tolerate CRLF in decklist import The spec body: design, contracts, test cases. The ticket file IS the spec. Everything below the frontmatter is the spec — written by the LLM, after it has challenged the need I expressed in conversation. The frontmatter is data — owned by a small CLI, mutated only through it. Same file, so they can never drift apart. Why it matters: "move it to Done" is not an operation. LLMs (and humans) mangle documents when a state change means relocating text. Making status a field makes every transition a one-line, idempotent, testable mutation. The board I look at (a small web page on my server, with GitHub deep links to each spec) and the readable markdown view are generated projections , locked by a do-not-edit sentin

Every team I've worked with has a version of the same Slack message. Someone posts a PR link, adds a...

Agility is opening a new training center for its Digit robots in Fremont, California.

There’s more to Google’s messaging app than you might realize.

AI Doesn’t Replace Agile. It Makes Good Agile More Important. The discussion around AI replacing Agile is becoming increasingly common. The argument usually goes something like this: Information is now instantly accessible. Code can be generated in hours instead of weeks. Documentation is no longer expensive to produce. Communication overhead is dramatically reduced. If all of that is true, do we still need Agile? I believe the answer is yes—but perhaps not in the way we practice it today. The mistake is assuming Agile is defined by stand-ups, sprint planning, retrospectives, or two-week iterations. Those are practices, not principles. The real purpose of Agile has always been much simpler: Deliver customer value incrementally while maintaining enough structure to ensure quality, accountability, and continuous learning. That objective hasn’t disappeared because AI became faster. AI Changes Execution, Not Responsibility Large language models can generate code, documentation, tests, infrastructure, and even architecture proposals. What they don’t generate is accountability. In enterprise environments—especially regulated industries—the question is rarely “Who wrote this code?” The real questions are: Who owns this decision? Why was this solution selected? Can we trace how we arrived here? Can we audit the process? Who is responsible when something fails? Without clear ownership and controlled handoffs, AI can produce enormous amounts of output that become increasingly difficult to understand, validate, or maintain. Speed without governance simply creates technical debt faster. Coordination Isn’t Going Away Many people assume AI eliminates the need for coordination. I would argue the opposite. As AI agents begin collaborating with humans—and eventually with other AI agents—the need for explicit coordination actually increases. Someone still needs to define: objectives, responsibilities, interfaces, quality gates, acceptance criteria, governance, and success metrics. Th

Un’area interna che sembra una lavagna di ragionamento: non è coscienza, ma è un indizio forte su come emergono controllo e pianificazione nei transformer. Negli ultimi anni ci siamo abituati a pensare ai modelli linguistici come a enormi “scatole nere”: un prompt entra, un testo esce, e nel mezzo c’è un mare di matrici difficili da ispezionare. Ma c’è una novità interessante: alcune analisi suggeriscono l’esistenza di una piccola regione interna, relativamente organizzata, che funziona come uno spazio di lavoro per concetti . Un posto dove il modello “tiene a mente” qualcosa prima di produrre la risposta. È un’idea che fa scattare subito l’associazione più pericolosa (e più abusata) del momento: coscienza . In realtà, il punto non è stabilire se un LLM sia cosciente; il punto è molto più concreto e utile per chi sviluppa: se esiste un’area interna che concentra il ragionamento controllabile , allora possiamo capire meglio cosa guida certe risposte e come intervenire su errori, allucinazioni e comportamenti indesiderati. J-Space: una “lavagna” interna per il ragionamento L’idea chiave è questa: dentro il modello emergerebbe un piccolo insieme di pattern neurali “coerenti” (chiamiamoli J-Space ) che si comporta come una lavagna. Su questa lavagna compaiono concetti (non necessariamente parole che verranno stampate). Questi concetti influenzano la catena di ragionamento . Molte altre abilità—fluency, grammatica, stile, completamento locale—sembrano invece scorrere “automaticamente” altrove. Se questa separazione regge, spiega un fenomeno che tutti abbiamo osservato: modelli capaci di scrivere in modo impeccabile, ma fragili nel ragionamento o incoerenti quando devono mantenere vincoli. Il test più interessante: sostituire un concetto e vedere il ragionamento obbedire Un esperimento illuminante consiste nell’individuare un concetto attivo nello spazio di lavoro e sostituirlo con un altro, senza cambiare né prompt né output manualmente. Esempio (semplificato): Domanda:

Async processing qua message queue: vì sao đẩy việc nặng ra khỏi request path, và cái giá phải trả bằng eventual consistency Async processing là mô hình tách một request thành hai giai đoạn: request handler nhận việc, xác nhận với client, rồi giao phần xử lý thật cho một worker chạy ngoài request path — thường qua một message queue (RabbitMQ, AWS SQS, Kafka, Redis Streams, hoặc queue trên nền Redis như BullMQ/Sidekiq). Lý do dev gặp nó trong việc thật rất cụ thể: một endpoint gọi payment provider mất 3s, gửi email confirm mất 1s, resize ảnh mất 5s — nếu làm tuần tự trong request, p99 latency của endpoint là tổng các con số đó, và một downstream chậm hoặc chết đủ để làm timeout hết thread pool của app server. Đẩy vào queue thì request trả về trong vài chục ms; nhưng đổi lại, cái "xong" mà client thấy không còn nghĩa là việc đã thực sự hoàn thành. Cơ chế hoạt động Ba thành phần: producer (thường là API server) đóng gói việc thành message rồi publish vào broker; broker (RabbitMQ/SQS/Kafka…) giữ message trong queue có persistence tuỳ cấu hình; consumer/worker poll hoặc được push message, xử lý, rồi ack để broker biết xoá. Nếu worker chết trước khi ack, broker redeliver — đây là gốc của semantic at-least-once : mỗi message được giao ít nhất một lần, có thể nhiều lần. Exactly-once trong hệ phân tán chỉ đạt được ở lớp application bằng cách consumer viết idempotent, không phải bằng cấu hình broker. Ví dụ với RabbitMQ + Node ( amqplib ): // producer — trong HTTP handler const ch = await conn . createConfirmChannel () await ch . assertQueue ( ' image.resize ' , { durable : true }) app . post ( ' /upload ' , async ( req , res ) => { const jobId = crypto . randomUUID () const payload = Buffer . from ( JSON . stringify ({ jobId , s3Key : req . body . key })) await ch . sendToQueue ( ' image.resize ' , payload , { persistent : true , // ghi xuống disk, sống sót broker restart messageId : jobId , // để consumer dedupe contentType : ' application/json ' , }) // đợi broker confirm đ

Top robotics researchers and founders explain how robot autonomy is evolving.

Top robotics researchers and founders explain how robot autonomy is evolving.

While other humanoid startups chase sky-high valuations, Agility Robotics is betting its future on execution — and a SPAC.

Middleware in PAGI A port of the sample app from What Is Middleware? — which builds the same three-layer stack in Plack/PSGI (Perl) and Starlette/ASGI (Python) — to PAGI , an async, ASGI-style application interface for Perl. The app is deliberately tiny but exercises the three things middleware exists to do: Logger — wrap the request, time it, log method/path in and status/duration out. Authenticator — inspect a header, inject context for downstream layers on success, or short-circuit with a 401 on failure. ProfileRouter — answer one specific route from inside the stack, reading the context the Authenticator injected. All code below was run under perl-5.40.0 with PAGI::Test::Client ; the log lines and responses shown in Running it are the actual captured output, not hand-written. The PAGI middleware contract A PAGI application is, in the spec's words, "a single coderef returning a Future": an async sub over the ($scope, $receive, $send) triple — the same shape as ASGI. $scope is the per-connection metadata hash ( type , method , path , headers , …), $receive pulls inbound events, $send pushes outbound ones ( http.response.start , then http.response.body ), and the Future it returns resolving is what tells the server the response is complete. Middleware is just as plain: a subroutine that takes an application and returns a new application, wrapping the inner one. That is the whole spec-level contract — app in, app out: sub middleware { my ( $app ) = @_ ; return async sub ($scope, $receive, $send) { # ... before ... await $app -> ( $scope , $receive , $send ); # call the inner app # ... after ... }; } A middleware propagates the inner app's Future — its completion and any exception flow straight through — and never reads its return value, which the spec defines as inert; to observe or rewrite the response it wraps $send instead, and to add per-request context it clones $scope (top-level edits stay visible downward only). PAGI::Middleware , from PAGI-Tools rather than

Nvidia has dominated the AI chip market for years, but the era of total dependence might be ending. OpenAI just shared its plans to spice things up with Jalapeño, its custom inference chip built with Broadcom, joining Google, Apple, and SpaceX in a growing list of companies building their way out of single-supplier risk. The goal is less of a […]

The small bit of air in the bottle sees oxygen and other chemicals move in and out.