College students aren't just using AI chatbots anymore. They're building automation systems, running local LLMs, and treating software engineering as a just-in-time capability. The 'Chat Terminal' era is over.
Is a clock an asshole for telling you the time when you're late? The answer reveals something uncomfortable about how we receive honesty.
When will I be able to type natural language in my terminal and have the OS just understand? The answer is 2026—but not in the way you might expect.
Consulting has played this game twice before—with body shops, then offshore. Now AI is the new lever. But what if the pattern itself is the problem?
Wade Foster doesn't send memos about AI. He runs hackathons and show-and-tells. That distinction matters more than most CEOs realize—and it's the same thing I've been telling my own teams.
In the 1950s, engineers resisted compilers because they feared losing control. Now we're hitting that same phase transition—except the 'assembly' we're abstracting away is Python itself.
I don't need more Salesmen. I need a Sushi Master, a Pitmaster, and a Molecular Gastronomist. AI lets us return to the Guild—craftspeople in their own lanes, augmenting their own mastery.
An LLM is the ultimate observer. Like the angels in City of Angels, it watches everything. But it cannot taste. That's both a gap and an opportunity.
What if the billable hour isn't a business model—it's a coping mechanism? A way to avoid confronting that the thing we're selling might not be scarce anymore.
I've been the bridge. Between strategy and code, between design and delivery. It's exhausting. And lately I've been wondering if exhausting is the same thing as valuable.