Friday: what we are not saying yet
The weekly update. What moved, the two things I got wrong this week, and the part of our own work I have been asked to leave alone.
Most coverage treats a blog post and a working product as the same event. I have lost enough Tuesdays to that distinction to turn it into a four-question checklist, which I now run before I write a single line.
A model behind a waitlist has not shipped. A benchmark in a blog post is not a product. Most AI coverage collapses announcement and availability into one event, and building on the wrong side of that line is the most reliable way I know to lose a fortnight.
When something is described as released, it is one of these four, and they are nowhere near equivalent. I keep this list in my head permanently now, which should tell you how many times it has rescued a week.
Only the fourth is something you can build on. The other three are weather. Interesting weather, worth watching, but you do not pour a foundation on it.
I once spent an entire Tuesday building against something in category two while cheerfully believing it was category four. The integration was not the problem. The integration took an hour and was rather elegant, thank you.
The Tuesday went on everything downstream of a rate limit that did not exist yet: a queue I did not need, retry logic tuned against imaginary numbers, a batching layer built for a throughput ceiling that turned out to be four times lower on the day it actually opened. None of it was salvageable, because I had not built a seam, I had built a dependency. That is the real cost, and it is why this is not a rant about press releases. Work built on a preview gets discarded, not adjusted.
Before I write a line against anything new, I answer these four. It takes about four minutes and it has never once been wasted time.
Four yeses and it is shipped, and I will build on it happily. Three yeses is a prototype, and I will build a seam rather than a dependency, so that swapping it later costs me an afternoon instead of a fortnight. Two or fewer and I write the date in a note, set a reminder, and go back to what I was doing.
Not malice. Incentives, mostly, and I want to be fair about it because I have written my share of things that were easier than they were useful. An announcement is a clean story with a fixed date and a press contact. Availability is diffuse, regional, and changes quietly on a Thursday afternoon with no announcement at all. One of those is a headline and one is a maintenance task, and attention goes exactly where you would expect.
Which means the correction is yours to make, every single time, on your own. That sounds like a complaint and it genuinely is not. It is the highest-leverage habit I have, it costs four minutes, and almost nobody bothers.
Announced is a plan. Shipped is a fact. Read the plans, enjoy the plans, build on the facts, and never confuse the two on a Tuesday.
No newsletter. When there is something to see, the people on this list see it before the log does.
The weekly update. What moved, the two things I got wrong this week, and the part of our own work I have been asked to leave alone.
Ranking tenth on a page of links used to be worth something. When an assistant answers the question instead, there is one source and there is no page. I think this is the most interesting thing happening in my field, and I appear to be almost alone in that.