I genuinely feel like we’re living through another big shift — like what smartphones did in the 2000s, AI is doing now.
I’m not a developer, but I can already feel how the way I use the internet is changing. I used to search for things, now I just ask — and the AI replies like a person. It’s subtle, but powerful.
I really think in a few years, most of us will have some kind of personal AI. Not just a tool, but more like a life companion — helping us plan, decide, learn, even reflect. Kind of like how we can’t imagine life without Google now.
I’m quite positive on Meta right now.They’ve been making a string of smart, forward-looking moves — open-sourcing their LLMs (which builds ecosystem mindshare), scaling AI infrastructure aggressively, and now securing nuclear energy for long-term stability.
This nuclear deal isn’t just PR or “greenwashing” — it’s a serious bet on power availability, which is quickly becoming the real bottleneck in AI.
Compared to some of their peers, Meta seems more willing to take technically grounded, long-term positions rather than chasing hype.
Why don’t we talk more about how fragile the whole system becomes when tech degrades and the human has to take over?
In the Flight 1492 case, the lightning strike didn’t bring the plane down — the system’s reaction to it did.
It feels like we’ve optimized for normal conditions, but when things go sideways, we rely on the pilot to do the impossible — often without the tools, training, or time.
A few years ago, I pitched an internal developer tool that would've saved hours of manual QA work. I had data, a working prototype, and even initial support from a couple of engineers.
It went nowhere. Why? I didn’t do any pre-alignment. I presented it cold in a leadership meeting and watched people nod politely… then forget about it the next day.
Reading about Nemawashi and Engineered Serendipity now makes it painfully obvious what I missed:
those informal 1:1s, quiet pre-chats, and planting the seed before the meeting.