As part of this pointless push, an “AI explain” button appeared on MDN articles. This terrible idea actually got pushed to production (bypassing the usual deploy steps) where it lasted less than a day.
You can read the havoc it wreaked in the short term. We’ll find out how much long-term damage it has done to trust in Mozilla and MDN.
This may be the worst use of a large language model I’ve seen since synthentic users (if you click that link, no it’s not a joke: “user research without the users” is what they’re actually proposing).
In 1958, Mao ordered every village in China to produce steel. Farmers melted down their cooking pots in backyard furnaces and reported spectacular numbers. The steel was useless. The crops rotted. Thirty million people starved.
In 2026, every other company is having top down mandate on AI transformation.
Same energy.
Not sure I buy the argument here, though I do very much look forward to local language models getting better so we can ditch the predatory peddlars of today’s slop. But this trip down memory lane to the early web of the 1990s could’ve been describing my own experience:
But the thing I do remember was the first time I came across Derek Powazek’s Fray online magazine. It was the first time I had seen a website look beautiful. This was without CSS and without Javascript. I still remember quite clearly an “issue” of Fray that used frames to create some kind of “doors” you could slide open to reveal an article inside.
Fray was what made me want to make websites:
I distinctly remember sites like prehensile tales, 0sil8 and the inimitable Fray triggering something in my brain that made me realise what it was I wanted to do with my life.
I can’t remember the last time a blog post resonated with me this much.
Craig’s criteria on his job search:
- One: fuck offices
- Two: fuck AI
- Three: fuck React
And his conclusion:
Fuck work
Eleven years ago, I wrote:
Sometimes I consider the explosive growth of computation and think that strong AI is a near-term inevitability.
Then I remember printers.
That was just a brainfart, but Robin tackles it seriously in his thoughtful essay.
A pleasing image: if indeed AI automation does not flood fill the physical world, it will be because the humble paper jam stood in its way.
Software cannot, in fact, eat this world. Software can reflect it; encroach upon it; more than anything, distract us from it. But the real physical world is indigestible.
Related to Matt’s thoughts:
…working with agents feels much less like classic deep work, and much more like playing a game. Not to say the work is frivolous—it’s just because it feels like I’m in a game loop.
Flow, at least in the usual sense for me, feels smooth and continuous. The work and your attention starts to line up so cleanly that the experience becomes frictionless. You disappear into the work and meld with it. One notable aspect of flow has been I lose track of time. Working with agents on the other hand, is not like that at all. It’s highly engaging, but in a more jagged, reactive way. I’m focused, but not settled. I’m absorbed, but not merged with the task. I’m paying close attention the whole time, but the attention is dynamic and tactical rather than continuous. I don’t lose track of time at all.
Knock, knock! Who’s there? Control freak (now you say “control freak who?”)
Wake me up when we get to the plateau of productivity.
Language matters.
A large language model is as neutral as an AK-47.
The best of the web is under continuous attack from the technology that powers your generative “AI” tools.
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# Shared by Marty McGuire on Saturday, July 1st, 2023 at 1:55pm