“Just a few more tokens”
I hit ‘agent mode’ and submit the prompt. The terminal churrs; green blocks of code pour onto the screen — frontend components, controllers, environment variables, everything. Less than a minute has passed. The prototype actually works.
“This is incredible,” I think, as I cross the threshold.
1.
At first, I move slowly. Not from fear, but to admire the pristine folders and files. The technology has come such a long way.
“Oh… he’s thought of that module too. I didn’t even need to ask for it.”
New knowledge lures me deeper:
“Oh? This is how you can smuggle a Python binary into a Mac app? …I didn’t know Apple allowed that. Very cool.”
2.
It’s been an hour.
I congratulate myself for having the wisdom to balance my instructions with questions. ‘I’m learning.’
“Make this change… now explain this pattern to me.”
It’s a partnership. Progress is instant; I barely even need to edit — I just give directions and can review the changes. We move faster.
“Float this element to the right…”,
“When the user presses this, make sure the state updates as follows…”,
“No, not quite like that — like this…”
Claude can do everything. This project will be finished in no time.
3.
He’s really churning out the code now. Since every change is so small, there’s no need to review them. I’ve stopped asking questions — I have the gist of the code now.
It’s been a few days (time flies), but we’re making great progress.
4.
“Wait. Haven’t we been here before?”
I’m definitely not lost… but admit there have been …issues.
Claude’s dropped the thread a few times, and there have been one or two lapses in judgment. Minor difficulties, nothing serious.
I’ll adjust the model version and add tests. Tests will solve everything.
…Though really, probably best if he writes them. After all, he’s most familiar with the codebase.
5.
More setbacks, but it’s fine. The app is basically working, and it’s been barely two weeks.
I understand his limits now and am in control. I’m not frustrated, but will be more rigorous: detailed prompts and firm acceptance criteria.
I even smirk — this is almost like pre-agile software development.
Every change now comes with its own git commit and documentation file.
I’ll definitely read these.
6.
I’m lost, again. When did this start?
It’s fine, though, the app is almost finished.
I’ll just dive into the code myself to see what the trouble is.
Yes, it’s as I expected: the code is too complicated. He should not have made it so complicated.
I’ll ask for an analysis and refactor. “— Please.”
Disable tests? …Well, I suppose that’s alright. ‘Allow.’
7.
I was almost ready to release, but there’s been another snag.
Turns out that the major architectural decision was a mistake.
How frustrating. This must be the third time — remember the Apple binaries debacle?
I did question it at the time, but it was so confident.
Maybe I’ll switch models again.
I just need to coax it into rebuilding the backend from scratch.
8.
It’s been a month. I’m completely lost.
The code is an abomination. My sessions alternate between begging and berating. I’ve lost count of refactors. I don’t know how it will ever get finished.
I look at the latest regression and ask, bewildered:
“Why has this broken again? I thought you fixed it? It’s a mess.”
The terminal whirrs.
SCP-LLM replies:
“You’re absolutely right. We should refactor.”
