The junior dev in the next pod was arguing with her AI coding agent again. Not loudly. Just that tone people get when they’re trying to be polite but the tool won’t listen.
“Not that function,” she whispered. “The other one. You literally suggested it five minutes ago.”
Loop blinked. Then generated four more options.
She picked the third and moved on.
No one thought it was strange.
That’s where we are now. You sketch some vague instructions. The model returns a code diff. You scan, accept, run it. Something breaks. You paste the error back in. Eventually, it works.
You don’t always follow how. And most days, you don’t need to. Loop handles the details.
Some people call it vibe coding.
But it doesn’t stop there.
What starts as a shortcut turns into a shift. You use it on personal projects, then at work. At first, it’s to save time. Then it’s because the old way feels slow. Eventually, it’s because the old way stops making sense—too many layers, too many helpers, too much for one head to hold.
You’re no longer engineering. You’re steering. Prompting. Reviewing. Nudging the model back when it veers off course.
The work begins to feel less like construction and more like gardening. More compost than blueprint.
And it’s not just code.
If the loop works for programming, it works for planning. For analysis. For strategy. Throw in a few goals, add some data, and let the system chew. If the output’s off, tweak the inputs. Try again. You’re not tracing logic trees. You’re keeping momentum.
That change—from understanding to interaction—won’t stay niche.
Today, most knowledge work still rewards comprehension. But speed has its own gravity. Review might outpace reason. The fast path becomes: prompt, skim, deploy.
Which raises the real question.
What happens when most of the world is run by people nudging systems they don’t really control, to do things they don’t fully understand?
Because the loop doesn’t pause to explain itself. It just runs. And once it runs well enough, long enough, no one bothers to trace where the decisions came from.
Not because we’re careless. But because it worked. And we were busy.
And when something goes wrong, it’ll be easy to blame the tool. Harder to admit we were never driving—just keeping our hands near the wheel.
Loop’s still learning. So are we.