Cybertronics ‘25
It’s January 5th and the first workday after the winter break. The two weeks of staying at home, spending time with family, were good for my mental health. I hope that returning to work, I won’t forget easily what this different pace feels like.
The last year was quite hectic at work. Reduced hours, furloughs for some employees, technical debt biting engineers in their (sometimes fuzzy, hi, that’s me) butts, surface quality control – no small challenges, all distracting from The Grind. No time, or attention rather, to pause and check the compass: are we still doing good things the right ways?
There’s a number of posts from my employer on LinkedIn, showcasing the positive impact our software has had on people’s lives. Navigating cultural challenges, helping people understand healthcare initiatives, connecting them with local communities, and providing valuable advice in times of danger.
Everything powered by language models.
It was when I turned 35 that I clearly felt The Pull of capitalism with my very spine. Scarce resources and big obligations let the mindset of cutting corners settle across the organization. Reducing costs, at all costs. They let go of many people; many others left themselves – it’s been a hot minute since many saw raises, and it never becomes less expensive to just... live.
They told us software developers are expensive, and in the context, it only evoked feelings of fear and guilt in me. Am I to blame for my colleagues suffering hardships now? If I could’ve been a little more productive, would that family have had to move to a more affordable place? Am I that useless?
“Do more good-enough faster” the ephemeral yet intrusive thought low-key pulsating on the back of my head. Sometimes in the chest, besides my heart, too.
I have always been an opponent of AI/LLM technology because it seemed artificial, an ersatz, shunt for human creativity, collaboration, and connection. I still don’t have the right words to express the intuition, but when I had started giving in to the cheap computer labor, I saw my tools, work, and the mind itself adapting to the idea of bringing more value (numerical, as in money) to the table.
A table with my friends and colleagues around, and small miniatures and figurines of things that matter – our families, hobbies, interests, and aspirations. Some people would hold on to dearly, other would have to slowly collect dust. There’s only so much we could pay for to take care of, isn’t it?
Who we’ll eventually become while trying to feed the void, an ever-growing and demanding entity with few people behind, that we both hate and depend on?
The humorous answer is: cyborgs. Not in a fun way the 80s imagined, with creatures in hot synthetic who’ve seeking their purpose, but good ol’ flesh and bones and pieces of mind replaced by a subscription service with ginormous matrix-multiplication data centers in the shadow.
As I’m mentally preparing myself for my first Monday of the year, I can’t help wondering if someday Google, OpenAI, Mistral, or whatever, decides it’s cheaper for them to cut my services, and effectively perform a cognitive lobectomy on my silly little brain.
Now my time is running out, and the family is about to wake up. I shall be someone they can rely upon, so I’ll likely have to spin up a coding agent later today, and get to be an anthropomorphic animal on the Internet in the evening, to wash down the aftertaste.
There’s one question the robots and cyborgs ask in the stories: “Am I alone?”