I've gone back and forth between "we're so cooked" and "we're so back" and I've started heading back to the latter.

I don't like programming with AI help. It still feels, at best, like playing Doom with cheatcodes on: it'll get you to the end, but you're not actually playing the game that way. At worst, it's like attempting to eat with soft silicone chopsticks: what the "tool" does is so removed from your intent and commands, and its feedback so delayed and sloppy, that you can only wield it in broad general strokes, not with precision.

But I'm encouraged by the hope that programming with regular tools like an IDE, compiler, debugger, etc. in a world with AI will become more like painting in a world of photography. Painting never died, but it had to change in a world where images of the real world could be captured without the skill or interpretation of an artist. The easy money in things like portraiture was gone (some people, including heads of state such as the British royal family and every U.S. president, still sit for paintings but it's far less common). Painters had to adapt and to do so they leaned hard into imagination, developing new styles and forms, new ways the art could be bent, and trying to show the world that though their skill and imagination was no longer needed to capture images of the real world now that photography existed, it still mattered.

That said, there is still a rich commercial market, even today, for more traditional forms of painting. Fantasy and science fiction novels need cover art. Movies, TV shows, and video games need concept art. Comics and animation productions need backgrounds. Even Bob Ross and his happy little trees taught us that there is joy and value inherent to the practice of painting itself, in creating peaceful worlds for our minds to inhabit. Painters who find some form of pecuniary success have it good today, because even for the ones who submit to commercialism, their capacity for imagination and originality become the selling point now that verisimilitude is a problem so solved, people carry collections of thousands of realistic images around on their phones.

There will emerge a market for code written by humans. This has to happen: I can't prove it, but I can feel it. Despite vast improvements in the generative models, AI-generated art and music are still slop. AI-generated prose has gotten sloppier with phenomena like the much-mocked "Claudese". It's so obviously devoid of a human mind behind it that Zoomers and Alphennials are starting to use "that's so AI" as an insult. Despite the leaps-and-bounds improvements of recent models, I have to believe that AI code is slop too; the major difference between code and these other expressive forms is that we are far more tolerant of slop code: for the most part we just care if the damn thing works.

But I think that will change. I am far more tolerant of poorer quality art, for instance, than I used to be if it were created by a human. It's almost an autonomic response: I see human-created art, I like it by default. Because I can glimpse the mind behind it in a way I just can't with AI slop. The ability to program a computer directly, and to combine that with imagination and originality to bend the machine in ways yet unthought of, will become valuable. There will emerge a qualitative difference between handmade code and slop code that people will notice and seek out. You will get some sense, however small, of who created the code by reading it, or interacting with it, and humans are far easier for humans to read and understand than machines running unseen, unfathomable stochastic models. It may well mean that the easy money in programming is gone forever. Perhaps people will continue to be content with slop for the vast majority of commercial code, and that's fine; they're welcome to it. This development will push us and our craft in a new direction. It's gonna suck, maybe for a few more years. But I'm starting to think maybe traditional programming is far from cooked. And who knows—maybe AI-induced brainrot, combined with model collapse and skyrocketing inference expenses, will mean that a bubble pop is coming and humans will have to pick up the pieces, potentially making a killing like COBOL programmers during the Y2K days. It's tough to say.

To grieve, or not to grieve?