There’s nothing to fix, because there’s no interface to fix.

Years ago, you could open the hood of your car and see the engine. You’d pop the hood, poke around, maybe even fix a thing or two. It was comprehensible.

But today, open the hood of a Tesla and you’re looking at… a trunk. There’s nothing to fix, because there’s no interface to fix.

My friend Josh Knowles made this analogy about programming, and it’s been rattling around in my head ever since: We used to write code for other humans to read. The architecture mattered because another human needed to maintain it. But AI might shift that. We’re entering a world where code might be written by machines, for machines—not to be read, just to work.

It’s not bad. It’s just different. Like cars, the hood’s still there. But what’s under it might not be for us anymore.

Kinda wild, right?