An eye-opening story from Steve Troughton-Smith, who tested Codex for a month and ended up rewriting a bunch of his apps and shipping versions for Windows and Android:
I spent one month battle-testing Codex 5.3, the latest model from OpenAI, since I was already paying for the $20 ChatGPT Plus plan and already had access to it at no additional cost, with task after task. It didn’t just blow away my expectations, it showed me the world has changed: we’ve just undergone a permanent, irreversible abstraction level shift. I think it will be nigh-impossible to convince somebody who grows up with this stuff that they should ever drop down and write code the old way, like we do, akin to trying to convince the average Swift developer to use assembly language.
From his conclusion:
This story is unfinished; this feels like a first foray into what software development will look like for the rest of my life. Transitioning from the instrument player to the conductor of the orchestra. I can acknowledge that this is both incredibly exciting, and deeply terrifying.
I have perused the source code of some of these projects, especially during the first few days. But very quickly I learned there’s simply nothing gained from that. Code is trivial, implementations are ephemeral, and something like Codex can chew through and rewrite a thousand lines of code in a second. Eventually, I just trusted it. Granted, I almost always had a handwritten source of truth, as detailed a spec as any, so it had patterns and structure to follow.
The models are good now. A year ago, none of them could do any of this, certainly not to this quality level. But they don’t do it alone. A ton of work went into everything here, just a different kind of work to before. Above all, what mattered most in all of the above examples was taste. My taste, the human touch. I fear for the companies, oblivious to this, that trade their priceless human resources for OpenClaw nodes in a box.
The entire story is well-documented, rich in screenshots, and full of practical details for developers who may want to attempt a similar experiment.
It’s undeniable that programming is undergoing a massive shift that has possibly already changed the profession forever. Knowing what code is and does is still essential; writing it by hand does not seem to be anymore. And it sounds like the developers who are embracing this shift are happier than ever.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot: why are some of us okay with the concept of AI displacing humans in writing code, but not so much when it comes to, say, writing prose or music? I certainly wouldn’t want AI to replace me writing this, and I absolutely cannot stand the whole concept of “AI music” (here’s a great Rick Beato video on the matter). I don’t think I have a good answer to this, but the closest I can get is: code was always a means to an end – an abstraction layer to get to the actual user experience of a digital artifact. It just so happened that humans created it and had to learn it first. With text and storytelling, the raw material is the art form itself: what you read is the experience itself. But even then, what happens when the human-sourced art form gets augmented by AI in ways that increasingly blur the lines between what is real and artificial? What happens when a videogame gets enhanced by DLSS 5 or an article is a hybrid mesh of human- and AI-generated text? I don’t have answers to these questions.
I find what’s happening to software development so scary and fascinating at the same time: developers are reinventing themselves as “orchestrators” of tools and following new agentic engineering patterns. The results, like with Steve’s story, are out there and speak for themselves. I wish more people in our community were willing to have nuanced and pragmatic conversations about it rather than blindly taking sides.
