Wednesday, 6 May 2026

Code Is Cheap. Taste Is Expensive.

Cat Wu runs product for Claude Code at Anthropic. Her team ships features in a day. Not a sprint. Not a week. A day. And she just told Lenny Rachitsky something that should rewire how every operator thinks about building right now: the cost of writing code has collapsed, and the skill that matters is deciding what to write.

That is the entire shift. Everything else is a consequence of it.

For two decades, product management was a coordination job. You wrote PRDs, aligned partner teams, negotiated quarterly roadmaps, and shipped a feature every month or so. The work was slow because code was expensive. Teams needed four months to build a thing, so a PM spent four months making sure the thing was worth building.

That calculus has inverted. When a feature can be stood up in a day, the bottleneck is no longer engineering capacity. It is taste. It is knowing which of ten thousand GitHub issues is worth touching. It is knowing whether the current model can actually pull off the feature you are imagining, or whether you are shipping a broken promise.

Wu's own team operates on a rule worth stealing: ship almost everything as a research preview. Brand it clearly as an early idea. Tell users it might not survive. This one framing move reduces the commitment to a feature from "we shipped it, we own it forever" to "here is a draft, tell us what works." Commitment becomes cheap. Feedback becomes the roadmap.

If you are running an agency or a D2C brand or a tech platform, steal this verbatim. Half the reason your team ships slowly is because every release is treated as a marriage. It isn't. It is a first date.

The second thing worth sitting with: Wu openly says the PM role and the engineer role are merging, and Anthropic is hiring engineers with product taste over PMs who cannot ship. Designers on Claude Code write frontend code. Engineers take an idea from Twitter and turn it into a working feature by lunch. The PM job survives only as a multiplier role for people who can already build. The pure-coordinator PM is a dying species. Operators who cannot at least drive a coding agent are about to be priced out of their own product.

The third lesson is the one that hits the hardest, and it is buried under all the talk of velocity. Wu calls it the last-mile rule. Building 95% of a feature is the easy part. Pushing it from 95% to 100% — where it actually works for users every time, not just in the demo — is the entire job. Most teams ship half-baked features because the model fails five percent of the time, and now you have a broken process that you half-trust, which is worse than no process at all. Either put in the elbow grease to push it to 100%, or do not build it. The middle ground is the worst place to be.

Watch Amazon sellers and D2C operators doing this weekly. They build a half-working repricer, a half-working ad bidder, a half-working review responder, and then spend more time babysitting the automation than they saved. Wu's point is simple: the last mile is the entire job. Skip it and you have bought yourself technical debt dressed up as productivity.

There is a deeper layer under all of this, which is how Anthropic itself moves. Wu said that if Claude Code failed but Anthropic succeeded, she would be happy. Teams trade off against one another openly because the mission sits above any product line. That clarity is why the company ships a feature a day across a dozen surfaces without tripping over itself. It also explains some decisions that looked weird from outside — like sunsetting features built for old models because the new model makes them unnecessary. You don't carry around scaffolding that was put up to compensate for a previous model's weakness; you assume the next model will close that gap and you build with that future capability to catch up. Code review was exactly this — attempted for two years, only launched when Sonnet 4.6 could actually catch bugs.

If you are building for today's model only, you will be blindsided every quarter when a new model changes what is possible. Build for six months from now. The model will eat your harness for breakfast, and the things you scaffolded around to compensate for its weaknesses will quietly become unnecessary. That is the point. Remove the crutches. Keep the scaffolding honest.

The one-line takeaway: stop coordinating, start shipping. Stop prototyping, start using. Stop pretending 95% is done.

The bar moved. Your roadmap should too.

Source: Cat Wu on Lenny's Podcast

Tuesday, 5 May 2026

Create. Spread. Kill.

Every brand on Amazon moves through three phases. Most never get past the first.

1. Create space for yourself

You don't enter a category. You carve a hole in it.

One keyword. One use case. One price point. One thing you can own before anyone notices you exist.

This is not about being everywhere. It is about being undeniable somewhere.

Most brands skip this. They launch wide and show up as the fifth-best option on twenty keywords. Fifth-best is invisible. Fifth-best dies.

Create space first. One inch of territory you fully own.

2. Spread yourself

Once you own one thing, you expand from it.

More ASINs. More variants. More keywords. Every search a buyer might run should eventually surface you.

The customer who searched "study lamp" should also find you when they search "reading lamp," "bedside lamp," "LED desk lamp," "table lamp for office." Same brand. Different doors. Same shelf at the end.

You stop being a product. You start being a presence.

This is where the flywheel turns. Each ASIN feeds reviews into the brand. Each keyword feeds ranking into the others. Spread compounds in a way a single-product strategy never can.

3. Kill the category

Most brands don't believe this phase is real.

It is. We did it with table lamps. Nobody comes close. The category isn't competitive anymore. It is ours.

Killing the category means you hold the #1 BSR. You also hold #2. And #4. And #7. Half the search results page is you. Buyers stop comparing. They just buy.

Competitors can't catch up even when they try. Your review base is too deep. Your ranking is too entrenched. Your data on what sells, at what price, with which images, in which season — they don't have it. You do.

This is the endgame. Not market share. Market ownership.

The order is the strategy

Brands fail when they confuse the phases.

They try to spread before they create. They try to kill before they spread. They go wide and shallow and get drowned out.

There is no shortcut. There is only sequence.

Create first. Spread second. Kill third.

The Year You're Off By

Dario Amodei thinks there's a 90% chance we get a country of geniuses in a data center within ten years. He says it in public, with a straight face. He will still not buy a trillion dollars of compute.

The CEO who believes — really believes — that his own product is about to become the most valuable thing in history refuses to place the bet his conviction implies. Not because the compute isn't available. Not because he can't raise the money. Because if the revenue curve slips by one year, Anthropic dies.

This is the economics of certainty-of-utility in plain sight. Believing the payoff arrives is cheap. Believing when it arrives is expensive, and it's the only variable the check-writer is pricing.

Attach yourself to an exponential. But budget for the year you're off by.

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=n1E9IZfvGMA

Sunday, 3 May 2026

Diffusion Is The Product

Diffusion is cope, Dwarkesh tells Dario. The word's become a buzzword — a way to wave off AI progress when the model can't do the thing yet. Dario, who you'd expect to agree, doesn't. His position is sharper.

The model being smart isn't the constraint anymore. Procurement is the constraint. Legal review is the constraint. The 3,000 developers a CIO has to roll it out to — that's the constraint. Claude Code is the easiest enterprise sale Anthropic has ever made. It's still slower than selling to a Series A.

The capability curve and the diffusion curve are two different exponentials, and the second one is the one your business actually lives inside. This is why implementation is the moat, not the model. Anyone with an API key has the same intelligence. What they don't have is the workflow, the buy-in, the change management, the person who can tell the model exactly what to do by Thursday.

If the model is the raw material, diffusion is the product. Sell that.

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=n1E9IZfvGMA

If She Likes You, There Are No Rules


The Two States

There are only two states a woman can be in with you.

She likes you. Or she doesn't.

There is no third option. There is no "working on it." There is no "she's coming around." There is no "give it time." Time is not a strategy. Time is what you spend while the answer is already decided.


State One — She Likes You

If she likes you, there are no rules.

  • She'll make time when she has none.
  • She'll cancel plans she shouldn't cancel.
  • She'll reply at 2 AM.
  • She'll drive across the city for you.
  • She'll forgive the things she swore she'd never forgive.
  • She'll bend in ways her own friends will tell her not to bend.

The same woman who is hard, busy, principled, unreachable to the rest of the world — soft, available, almost obedient with you.

Not because she's weak. Not because you tricked her. Not because of some "technique" you read on the internet.

Because she likes you. That's the only reason. That's the whole reason.


State Two — She Doesn't Like You

If she doesn't like you, there is no access.

  • The texts go unread.
  • The calls go unanswered.
  • The plans never land.
  • Every small ask becomes a negotiation.
  • Every gesture is read in the worst possible light.
  • Every effort you make is filed under "trying too hard."

She will be polite, maybe. She will be civil, maybe. But behind the civility, she will quietly make your life a living hell.

And the cruelest part — she won't even feel cruel doing it.

To her, it's just admin. To you, it's the whole year.


What It Is Not About

This is not about charm.
Not about looks.
Not about money, status, gym, gifts.
Not about a six-figure job, six-foot height, six-pack.

None of it.

Those are inputs. The output is binary.

She likes you, or she doesn't.


What Men Do When They've Already Lost

Stop trying to win the argument.
Stop trying to be reasonable.
Stop trying to "communicate better."

Reasonable doesn't unlock the door.

Reasonable is what men do when they've already lost.


The Whole Thing

Either she likes you —

— or you're managing a problem that has no solution.

That's it. That's the whole thing.

Friday, 1 May 2026

Claude Code Was An Accident

Claude Code is now the most-copied product in AI. Every frontier lab has built one. Every VC has funded three. Anthropic didn't set out to build it.

What happened, per Dario: early 2025, he told the team "models are good enough now — experiment with using them on your own work." Someone wired up a CLI. Internally, everyone started using it. The name was Claude CLI before it was Claude Code. At some point Dario looked around and said: this has product-market fit inside the building. Let's launch it.

The interesting thing isn't the origin story. It's the filter. Anthropic only ships products where they're the customer. "We didn't launch a pharma company because we don't have the resources to know what we'd need." That's the whole test.

Most product decks answer the wrong question. They ask: is there a market? The better question is: are you in it? Because if you're not, you're guessing at everything a real user would feel in five minutes.

Build what you use. Launch what you can't stop using yourself.

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=n1E9IZfvGMA

Wednesday, 29 April 2026

The Diffusion Gap: Why AI Won't Reach the Enterprise on Silicon Valley's Timeline

There's a gap opening up between what a San Francisco startup looks like in 2026 and what a JP Morgan looks like in 2026, and it's going to get worse before it gets better. Box CEO Aaron Levie had a conversation with Martin Casado and Steven Sinofsky on The a16z Show that named the three forces pulling the tech industry apart from the rest of the economy — and the biggest mistake most executives are making about the shape of the next five years.

The diffusion gap

Silicon Valley assumes that because startups can now automate a marketing team with one person and Claude Code, every enterprise is a year away from the same leverage. That's wrong, and it's wrong for a reason that doesn't get discussed often: algorithmic thinking is rare.

Sinofsky's framing: walk into a marketing team of 50 people at a global brand. Ask each one to draw a flowchart of their own job. Maybe one person can do it. The others know how to do the job — they don't know how to describe it as a system. That's the bottleneck for AI adoption inside large companies. It's not GPU access, it's not budget, it's not even resistance to change. It's that most people in most jobs were never trained to think in terms of process, branches, and feedback loops. The training they got was apprenticeship — watch someone, copy them, get good. That doesn't translate into directing an agent.

The viral Anthropic example (one growth marketer replacing five or ten people via Claude Code) works because that person was already a systems thinker. Put the same tool in front of most marketing teams and they freeze.

The optimistic version of this, which Levie believes: the abstraction layer just moves up. Sinofsky's cousin joined a bank right before spreadsheets arrived. She couldn't use Excel, so she supervised a room of interns who could. Two years later she was the spreadsheet person, and the interns were doing something higher. That's the pattern. Today's "rocket scientist coordinating 42 agents" is temporary. In a year or two there's just a skill-level domain agent — "marketing-ish" — and the average marketer can ask it for things.

Fine for the ten-year outcome. Ugly for the two-year transition. And the gap in capability between a startup using agents from day one and a 200,000-person bank trying to retrofit them is widening, not narrowing.

Build for agents, not for humans

But there's a subtle mistake in the discourse that Martin Casado called out and it's worth internalizing: you are not "marketing to agents." Agents don't care about your documentation, your positioning, your interface polish. The one thing agents are genuinely great at is finding the right backend for the job. They pick on cost, durability, semantics, the actual properties of the system.

This is a gift and a threat. The gift: merit actually wins. If your product is technically the best for the job, the agent will find it and use it, and you don't need to buy Gartner quadrants or run bigger trade-show booths. The threat: if your product is mediocre but has dominated because of brand or sales, the agent will skip you. "Which database should I use for this?" is a question the agent is going to answer from first principles now. Gartner is going to matter less.

(Casado's dry caveat: Silicon Valley will ruin the meritocracy quickly once the incumbents figure out how to pay-to-influence agent selection. Give it two years.)

The enterprise control problem is brutal

Every big tech company is confronting the same scenario right now: 5,000 employees, each one running Claude Code with access to the Box CLI or its internal equivalent. That's potentially 10,000 write operations per hour against the shared system of record — with agents creating nested directories without limit, conflicting with each other, racing each other on file moves, and accidentally leaking M&A data room contents because a prompt injection slipped in from a shared document.

The intuition that "treat the agent like a human" doesn't work cleanly. Humans have a right to privacy. Agents don't. You can log in as the agent and audit its entire output; you can't do that with an employee. But if you can log in as the agent, the agent can't really operate as a separate identity at all — any agent it talks to could be routed back to you. So the mental model collapses.

Sinofsky drew the parallel that fits best: the open source era. For years, engineers debated in conference rooms how much open source code could be pulled into Windows or Office, what the licensing constraints were, how to manage the security posture. None of that debate happened in public. It took a decade to build the norms. The same debate is happening now — except it's happening on podcasts and X in real time, and everyone expects the end state to arrive in six months.

It won't. The enterprise lockdown is coming first. Startups will pull further ahead in that window.

The engineering compute budget — the most consequential line item of the next two years

Levie's final warning deserves its own highlighted paragraph. R&D spend for a typical tech company is 14–30% of revenue. If tokens are 2× your engineering team cost, that's your entire EPS eaten. If they're 3%, you're fine. The delta between those two numbers is being debated today with effectively zero data.

CFOs are going to be forced to pick a number. Wall Street will hold them to it. Some will be spectacularly wrong. Some will get fired. Most of the economics people are using to model this right now are off by an order of magnitude — in the same way the PC market was underestimated (nobody predicted a thousandfold increase in MIPS-per-desk, or that software would sell separately from hardware), and the cloud was underestimated (nobody predicted that giving every engineer elastic compute would lead to a thousandfold increase in consumption, not a lateral migration of 60,000 servers).

The IBM analogy closes the loop. For years IBM was selling more MIPS for fewer dollars every year. They were pricing mainframes on MIPS anyway, and didn't notice they were on a decreasing curve — making MIPS faster than they could charge for them. Today's AI pricing is on the same trajectory. The companies pricing by token are going to be the ones pointing at their own decreasing curve in three years.

Three things to actually do about all this

1. If you run a SaaS business: stop treating your API like a compliance afterthought. The agent is your new main user. Your monetization model, your identity system, your rate limits — all of it gets redesigned around agent volume. The companies that get this right become infrastructure. The ones that don't become line items.

2. If you run an enterprise: resist the instinct to build a new governance layer for agents. Use the identity systems you already have — give the agent its own Gmail, its own phone number, its own RBAC role, its own payment method. Treat it like a separate identity with tight scopes. Adding a fresh policy plane on top of your existing mess just slows everything down.

3. If you're doing financial planning: assume your compute budget assumption is off by at least 10×. In both directions. Plan scenarios, not point estimates. CFOs who commit now to a precise number will be the ones getting fired later.

The line that closed the conversation: "They thought the Dakotas would be covered in vacuum-tube warehouses to fight World War II. Then someone invented the transistor." AI is in its vacuum-tube-warehouse phase. Act accordingly.

Source: Box CEO Aaron Levie on the AI Adoption Gap — The a16z Show