Communication

TL;DR When two AI agents talk to each other in English, they are doing something faintly absurd: serialising rich internal state into a lossy human language, transmitting it, and decoding it back. English between machines is a compatibility layer, not a natural medium. Machines have already shown they will drop that layer the moment we let them - negotiation bots drifting out of English in 2017, agents switching to sound-based data protocols in 2025, and research systems now sharing internal model state directly with no language in between. The same logic applies to programming languages. Python and Rust exist for human readers. If agents write, maintain, and consume the software, the human-readability requirement quietly disappears - and with it, eventually, the need for source code and compilers as we know them. I do not think compilers vanish so much as sink. Like assembly, the layers below us stop being something humans write or read, while the guarantees they provide get absorbed into the agents’ toolchain. The part worth worrying about is not efficiency, it is legibility. Human language and human-readable code are our audit trail into what machines are doing. This is all speculation on my part, and I sketch where I think the line should be held. Human Language Is a Compatibility Layer Think about what actually happens when two AI agents have a conversation in English today. ...

The Shape of Engineer Burnout Creative burnout in engineering looks different than burnout in other fields. It’s not just exhaustion from long hours (though that’s part of it). It’s the specific fatigue that comes from: Infinite scope. Features that seemed scoped end up needing architecture work, documentation, refactoring, and support. The work expands to fill available time. Context switching. Ping-pong between your own work, meetings, code reviews, unplanned incidents, and people asking “quick questions” that aren’t quick. Invisible work. You spend days thinking about a problem before writing a line of code. To everyone else, you look idle. Pressure mounts. Decision fatigue. Every technical choice branches into five more questions. Should we use library A or B? Refactor or ship? Upgrade or wait? Your judgment gets spent before lunch. The expectation to be always-on. Slack notifications, on-call rotations, “can you just look at this?” messages at 6 PM. The mental boundary between work and life dissolves. This burnout doesn’t announce itself with a bang. It creeps in through a thousand small surrenders: skipping lunch, saying yes to projects you don’t have time for, staying late “just one more time,” working weekends to catch up. By the time you notice it, you’ve already lost the energy to fix it. ...