Dan Shipper's Predictions for AI and Work: Super-Agents, Codex as the New Desktop, and Why He Would Buy SaaS Stocks

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Overview

A year before this conversation, Dan Shipper, co-founder and CEO of Every, told Lenny Rachitsky that people were sleeping on Claude Code, especially for non-engineering work. Rachitsky says that call turned out to be remarkably accurate. Anthropic went on to build Claude Cowork on that idea, and OpenAI's Codex is now moving in the same direction. So Rachitsky invited Shipper back to make a new set of predictions, which the two agreed to score in May 2027.

33 min read

The predictions fall into three groups: how the way we work will change, how the shape of the work itself will change, and who will do well. Throughout, Shipper describes himself as "simultaneously extremely AI-pilled and very bullish on humans." He expects AI to reshape nearly every workflow. He also argues that it will not eliminate human work, SaaS, or most jobs, and that it may create more work than it removes.

4:40

How Every "predicts" the future: living in it

Shipper says Every tries not to prognosticate. Instead, the team lives in the future together. The company has grown from about 15 people at his last appearance to almost 30. Every employee is an AI early adopter, including the engineers, designers, writers, editors, salespeople, and customer service staff. He contrasts this with most companies, where early adopters work alongside a middle-of-the-pack majority and a strongly anti-AI contingent. Every also reviews models, so the team often gets alpha and beta access to new releases and can help steer them a little.

In that setting, he says, prediction mostly means noticing what is happening and writing about it. Articulating what you notice makes it real for the team and for readers.

His original Claude Code call came about this way. The team tried Claude Code at launch as part of its normal job, and it was a little early. Around Sonnet 3.5 or 3.7, during their "vibe check," they realized Anthropic had effectively gotten rid of the code editor. From then on, Every shifted to a world where no one looked at code and everyone talked to their computer in English through Claude Code in the terminal. The company ran two or three internal software products at the time and runs about six now. Shipper then started wondering whether the tool could help with his writing. He uses an internal "reach test" for new tools: when you wake up in the morning, do you reach for it without thinking?

The paradox behind the predictions

Shipper opens with a tension. Benchmarks suggest AI will soon do everything. He cites METR's measure of how long models can work autonomously and says Anthropic's Mythos Preview can reportedly handle 17-hour tasks at 50% accuracy. He considers that progress real and exponential. Even so, his feeling is that a year from now "we actually have a lot more work to do. Humans have a lot more work to do," even as models get better at doing work.

He adds that his timelines are loose. Most of what he predicts should be apparent within a year, but it could take longer. To count as correct, a prediction should at least look like it is moving in the right direction by then.

11:26

Prediction 1: One super-agent per company, not a daemon for everyone

Shipper's main prediction about how work will change is that it will split into two modes. The first is the one people imagined years ago: everyone at a company will have at least one agent they talk to and offload work to, essentially something like OpenClaw.

He says the architecture of that setup is still unsettled. It could be one agent per person, per team, or per company, or some kind of parallel "shadow org chart" of specialized agents. When OpenClaw came out, everyone at Every adopted it, and Shipper was convinced each person would have their own agent. He compares a personal agent to the daemons in The Golden Compass, a small reflection of you that sits on your shoulder.

He has since "completely flipped." He now thinks the near-term model is a single super-agent for the whole company, and he points to Shopify and Ramp as companies that already have one. He still expects personal agents to arrive eventually. For now, though, the OpenClaw hype ran into reality at Every. Setting it up was too much work, it broke constantly, and it required things like SSH-ing into a server. Most people either could not or would not spend that time.

The underlying reason, in his view, applies to any harness. For an agent to be useful today, "it really needs a human who cares about it": someone who watches what it does, makes sure it is doing the right thing, and keeps it useful. Once that person stops caring and decides they no longer want to maintain the thing, the agent stops being useful.

That is why he sees companies consolidating around one agent, maintained by a forward deployed engineer or someone with a similar profile. The agent sometimes handles everything. Often it handles one job the company has decided everyone needs, such as data requests. He expects specialization to trickle down from there to team agents and eventually personal ones as people get used to the use cases and agents become "less fiddly." He says the model companies themselves are starting to see this pattern.

Asked where these agents will live, Shipper says work agents will mostly be in Slack. People enjoy using OpenClaw through iMessage on their phones, but he believes people want to keep personal and work agents separate. Every's COO, Brandon Gell, calls the personal side "computer errands," like ordering groceries. Shipper thinks that territory will be huge, but Every focuses on work.

18:21

Prediction 2: Codex and Cowork become the operating system for work

The second mode is that most of the work you do on your computer will happen inside an environment like Codex or Claude Cowork. That environment becomes the operating system for email, documents, and everything else. Shipper calls this the clear competitive landscape.

His account of how this happened: Anthropic realized that an agent running locally has access to everything the user has access to. It uses the terminal, which gives it powerful access, and models are very good at the terminal because so much material about it exists online. At a time when others still thought of coding models as pair programmers, Anthropic made the local agent work. Earlier cloud-environment approaches, he says, such as Devin and OpenAI's own attempt, did not see the same adoption. Then Anthropic and its community discovered that a local coding agent that can build anything is also good at any kind of work. People hacked Claude Code to do all their work, and Anthropic built Cowork as "a little bit of a nicer wrapping" around the same thing.

Shipper thinks OpenAI was very far behind for a while and has recently pulled ahead. In his description, earlier Codex versions were very smart but overly literal. They did exactly what you said rather than what you meant. Around the 5.3 release, perhaps three or four months before this conversation, OpenAI moved toward a fast model suited to general knowledge work and launched the Codex desktop app. He reads the app as OpenAI skipping straight to where Anthropic had arrived after going from Claude Code to Cowork, a path he says is visible in the tabs of Anthropic's desktop app. He calls the competition a horse race in which leadership will change. Right now, Codex is his daily driver.

The feature he considers most important is Codex's in-app browser. He keeps one Codex thread per project. To write, he opens the in-app browser to a document in Proof, a markdown editor he built, and lets Codex watch. He can see what Codex is doing and Codex can see what he is doing, all in one place. He describes this as an extension of what made Claude Code work in the first place. The result feels like a parallel work buddy that can edit the document, go do research, and use his computer for anything he could do.

Email is his favorite example. He says he has been at inbox zero for about ten days straight, which he calls unprecedented for him. Codex gathers his emails using Cora, Every's email agent, and renders a small page. He then monologues through the emails one by one. One instruction might be to research something. Another, responding to a question from the company's lawyers, might be to collect four years of documents into a report and send it. The tasks he used to procrastinate on now just get done.

He points out that this inverts the common assumption. People expected the ideal was to put AI into the browser. What he finds valuable instead is putting a browser into the agent you already use, so it can see everything you are doing. He says this combination is rare today, noting that Claude Code does not let you browse external websites inside it, and he predicts it will be common within a year.

27:54

What this means for SaaS: bring your own tokens, and build for humans and agents together

Rachitsky highlights one implication: SaaS tools will increasingly run inside Codex or Claude Code rather than embedding their own AI. Shipper agrees and describes the second-order effect. When he uses Proof, PostHog, or any website inside his agent, the agent has his access, and it runs on his tokens rather than the vendor's. That "puts SaaS back in its place." Vendors need to make their products agent-friendly. Everyone now has a CLI, the HTML should be usable, and anything that happens through the CLI should appear to the user immediately. What vendors don't necessarily need is their own built-in agent as the main interface. Proof, for example, pays nothing for tokens because users bring their own AI. Shipper argues this changes both what SaaS companies build and their margins.

He expects this to produce a new category of software. Classic productivity tools like Slack, Word, and PowerPoint were built for humans. CLIs are built for agents working independently. The new paradigm has a human and an agent working on the same piece of work at the same time, each seeing what the other is doing. That changes product design in several ways:

  • Simpler products. Proof lacks much of Word's formatting, page breaks, and table machinery, because the agent handles formatting.
  • New affordances. Agents can make huge numbers of changes at once. Products need approval flows, an inbox summarizing what will happen or has happened, logs, and fast rollback.
  • Different infrastructure. Agents can make a very large number of requests in seconds. Shipper attributes GitHub's current problems to exploding usage that is largely agents.

He also gives a concrete benefit. Users of Proof and some other Every products don't email support. Their agents file bug reports that include exact repro steps and, because Proof is open source, a guess at where the problem is in the code. These become GitHub issues, and Every can send an agent to fix them. It doesn't work for everything, but he sees the beginnings of a fast closed loop: a user hits a paper cut, their agent talks to the company's agent, and the company's agent fixes it.

Where Cursor fits, and the race to own the harness

Asked about Cursor, Shipper says it sees many of the same things. In some respects it is ahead: he considers Cursor's cloud implementation better and more advanced than OpenAI's or Anthropic's. However, Cursor has chosen more clearly to serve programmers. The definition of "programmer" is expanding enough to give it a large market, but he doubts it will move into general work like making slide decks, and he thinks deciding whether to stay coders-only will be hard for the company.

More broadly, he says every model company now understands that a harness is needed to get the most out of a model. Platforms are moving from prompt-and-response APIs toward running the model on a cloud computer and returning the result. He cites Anthropic's managed agents offering, assumes OpenAI will respond, and describes Cursor as having been "essentially acquired by SpaceX," not a full acquisition but close. In his view, the ultimate form of this harness is one that can do any kind of knowledge work.

31:25

"CLIs are over"

Rachitsky asks whether this means people will move away from working in the terminal. Shipper says "we speed ran the CLI era." CLIs have existed for decades and will keep existing. But during Claude Code's rise, people concluded the CLI was the thing that worked, and Shipper thinks that was a mistake. Once you use a real UI for agents, you remember "we made GUIs for a reason." You get the same benefits in a GUI, especially for non-programming work. He estimates that most of Every's technical staff no longer use a CLI as their main work surface. Some programmers still drop into it occasionally, but mostly they work in Codex, Claude Code, or Cursor.

33:40

Two agents are better than one

Shipper says he is "definitely not an agent maximalist" and expects people to use many agents. He thinks two agents often beat one. When Codex talks to another agent, it can convey far more context about him than he would type himself.

His example is Every's hosted OpenClaw product. The company had it on a waitlist and had to pause after starting to let people in. OpenClaw moves so fast that a platform built on it can't fix things when they break. Along the way, the team learned something about onboarding. The conventional approach is to build a web form or Slack workflow asking who the user is, what they want, and what their dream outcome is. The alternative is to serve only users of Codex or Cowork. The user pastes a prompt into their agent, the agent talks to the app (a plain server or another agent), and because Codex already knows what Shipper has been working on and how he might use the app, the result is highly customized. When something breaks in a technical product, he can tell Codex to go fix it, and Codex talks to the app to work out the problem. He believes the whole paradigm changes once you assume everyone has an agent that talks to other agents.

36:34

Why he would buy SaaS stocks

Shipper's most contrarian call is that the "SaaS apocalypse" is wrong and that SaaS stocks will rise sharply over the next couple of years. He adds that this is not investment advice.

His reasoning ties back to tokens. Many SaaS companies are rushing to bolt on agents on the assumption that agents will become the main interface, and that costs tokens. If users treat Codex or Cowork as their main work surface and still want SaaS, the vendor's job becomes building software that humans and AI can collaborate on. He considers that hard to do, but much cheaper to run than paying for everyone's tokens.

He also points to Every's own experience. Everyone there has agents and uses Codex, yet the company still pays for a lot of SaaS, its SaaS spend is up year over year, and it does not vibe-code every small tool. His thesis is that agents increase the number of SaaS users, so SaaS companies will see a huge spike in demand from agents using their products at high volume. That creates infrastructure and pricing challenges, but it makes him bullish.

39:00

"Automation is a lie": the senior engineer benchmark

Rachitsky notes that Every doubled its headcount, which is not what one would expect from such an AI-forward company. Shipper's explanation is that "automation is a lie," in the sense that every automation needs a human watching it to make sure it works. He returns to an idea from an earlier essay of his, the "allocation economy," in which working with AI resembles being a manager. Managers, he points out, work a lot. They check in constantly and figure out how to make things better. Managing models differs from managing people in some ways, but it still takes time and attention. He says he feels this paradox personally: there is more automation than ever, and he works much more.

What clarified the paradox for him was building his own benchmark. He vibe-coded Proof on the side while running Every. It worked in internal testing and with beta testers, but after launch the servers went down roughly every ten minutes. He couldn't fix it. Codex either didn't know what was wrong or claimed to have fixed it while causing four new errors. He wasn't sleeping and says he vibe-coded so hard he got bursitis in his elbow. Eventually, two senior engineers independently rewrote the codebase.

Those two rewrites became his "senior engineer benchmark." Each new model gets a prompt saying, in effect, that the code is vibe-coded slop and it should rewrite it from first principles. By his account, every model before GPT-5.5 scored around 30 out of 100, while the human senior engineers scored in the high 80s to low 90s. GPT-5.5 scored about 62, and that result used a plan written by Opus 4.7. Shipper considers Opus 4.7's plans very good, but says GPT-5.5 is the only model with the agency and confidence to actually rip out old code and rewrite it. Other models paper over the edges with small patches even when told not to. From that jump, he finds it "very clear" the benchmark will reach senior-engineer level within a year or less.

His caveat is that he will easily be able to redesign the benchmark to zero out the model at that point. The current prompt looks effortless, but it took him a while to find wording that reveals the model's capability without giving away the answer. His original prompt, the one he actually used during the outage, asked the model to review the four or five issues reported the day before, make a plan to resolve them, and carry it out. Shipper predicts that every coding model on the market will still take that instruction at face value a year from now and simply try to fix the listed issues. A human senior engineer, by contrast, looks at the codebase, concludes it is badly built, and says a risky rewrite is needed even though you don't want to hear it. A model might get there if you asked directly, but it won't do so on its own, and there are incentives pushing against it. There is also always a higher frame a human can step up to.

His broader point is that benchmarks rise on problems that have already been framed, articulated, and made scorable. The thinking needed to frame a problem in the first place can't be measured. So saturating a benchmark doesn't mean replacing all senior engineers, and that is why he still hires them.

Rachitsky mentions hearing that data-labeling companies are buying pre-2021 human-written code. Shipper clarifies that his benchmark's rewrites were not hand-written. The engineers used AI. Comparing an unaided human with AI would be like racing a person against a car. The meaningful comparison is between one human using AI and another, "cuz AI doesn't use itself." The engineers simply used AI in a way he couldn't, because he didn't understand the codebase and didn't have time to learn it.

Shipper also adds a refinement to Rachitsky's takeaways for this section. The current approach to agent-friendly software is a CLI the agent uses on a task you delegated. Where things are heading, the agent probably uses the CLI while you use the web interface, and the two have to stay in sync.

50:26

The changing shape of work: floods of pull requests and forward deployed engineers

Once people have both delegated agents and a Codex-style work surface, Shipper says, the volume of pull requests skyrockets. Every sees this internally, and he says the big model companies see it too. Consultants, ops staff, and editors now make PRs. A larger share of a company, or of its users, does work that used to require technical skills. That puts pressure on the people who have to absorb all the new code.

He cites OpenClaw creator Pete, who he says receives thousands of pull requests a day, spins up large numbers of Codex instances to sort them, and merges around a thousand. Shipper expects this to become more common. It raises the question of which PRs to merge. Adding capacity in one part of a process breaks other parts. Building used to be the hard part. Now the harder questions are whether something fits with the rest of the product, how to keep a coherent whole, and what to delete. He credits Anthropic with deleting a lot from Claude Code to keep it from bloating.

Rachitsky raises the role confusion people report when engineers can design, PMs can code, and marketers can ship. Shipper agrees it is real. At Every, everyone is something of a generalist, which he thinks suits smaller companies especially well. He expects things to settle: marketers will still do marketing, and touching the website will simply be part of the job.

He sees one new role as clearly real: the forward deployed engineer, which follows from "every agent needs a human." Big model companies have teams running their internal agents, and he doesn't expect those teams to disappear. Agents will grow more capable and more numerous, but people will still manage them. Every has a few such people and also lends them out through its consulting practice. He notes the irony that automation seems to have created jobs rather than removed them. His example is Nitesh, an AI engineer who spends much of his time in Slack talking to Claudie, the internal agent that runs Every's consulting practice. The work includes code and Claude Code, but much of it is conversations along the lines of "Why did you do this dumb thing?" Shipper says certain engineers love this kind of hands-on work with the newest tools.

He resists Rachitsky's framing of this as "babysitting." He describes it as an engineering challenge: building a system that lets people with less knowledge do what used to be technical work without doing something dumb.

56:41

Data scientists and the flood of bad analysis

Rachitsky relays a data science friend's complaint. Everyone now runs their own analyses, and the team spends most of its time reviewing incorrect work. Shipper sees this as a sign that the right systems haven't been set up. He describes at least one major model company that has a data science bot anyone in the org can query. It is connected to the data warehouse and knows who has permission to see what, and a dedicated team keeps it answering basic questions correctly. Without that team, he says, the data scientists "would hate their lives." With it, their jobs can actually improve, because routine requests are filtered out and they can focus on deeper questions.

58:37

Which roles have changed least?

Rachitsky asks which product or tech role has changed least. Shipper's first answer is that CEOs and investors can still largely opt out, and Rachitsky agrees it seems that way. Shipper then argues the opposite should be true. From Every's work with senior leadership teams, he believes "your company's only going to go as far as your CEO goes in AI," and that this can't be delegated because leaders need hands-on intuition. For now, though, a CEO's day, and perhaps a middle manager's, can look much the same as before. He expects that to change quickly at some point.

His other candidate is sales, because selling is so personal. AI is creeping into BDR-type work and research, and it helps with top-of-funnel sourcing and qualification, but the core job hasn't fundamentally changed. Rachitsky contrasts this with customer support, which has. Shipper's research example comes from recruiting. Every was hiring a head of learning and development, and he guessed that a former General Assembly employee who had become deeply interested in AI would be ideal. He typed that into Codex and left. When he came back, it had found someone who had been an instructor at General Assembly, was very into AI, and already followed Shipper on Twitter. Shipper DM'd him and they had dinner.

1:03:21

We will read far more AI-generated writing, and like it

Shipper predicts we will read much more AI-generated writing in documents and email and will be glad of it. Coding already works this way: he wouldn't want an engineer to hand-write a plan document. For Every's end-of-2025 quarterly planning, the team used a Notion agent. Against a top-level company strategy, each person talked to the agent. It asked about the past year, their goals, and their metrics, pushed back, and connected their answers to company strategy. Shipper then received what he calls "incredibly good" AI-generated plans for each team. They made it easier to see which teams needed to talk to each other without realizing it, and which plans were weak.

His definition of slop has two parts. A slop document took less time to make than it takes to read, and the sender doesn't stand behind every line. Sending him an AI-generated document is fine. Being unable to discuss what's in it is not allowed. He argues that most people are bad at writing strategy documents, so a GPT-5.5 draft well directed by a team member beats one typed out by hand.

Most of his own email, he says, is now written by GPT-5.5 in Codex, and he would prefer it to say so and might configure it that way. Codex usually asks him before sending. Once it didn't, and it sent an email to an investor that he hadn't looked at. When he checked his sent folder, it was exactly what he would have written. It can be a bit over-formal. His view is that most email is rote: he wants to decide what it says, but the actual sentences usually don't matter much to him.

He stresses that he is a writer who cares a great deal about writing and considers human writing important. Every publishes a mix of human and AI writing and always labels it; sometimes an AI co-author is useful. Every's guides are often agent-assisted and written to be read by both humans and agents. Shipper's reasoning is that the best way to apply a long informational piece is to have your agent ingest it and bring it up at the right moment, say the next time you work on pricing. The human reads the story and core ideas, and the agent holds the details. Rachitsky notes that people usually associate AI writing with social media and video, and that internal documents are a much less fraught setting.

1:08:38

Who wins: AI-pilled PMs and full-stack designers

Shipper says he is "super, super bullish on PMs." His evidence is Marcus, who runs Spiral, Every's writing app. Marcus is a PM by training who previously ran Axios's writing product, leading a large team to tens of millions in revenue. After taking a year off and going deep on AI, first with Cursor and now, Shipper believes, Claude Code, Marcus became what Shipper calls "lightly technical." He knows what a database migration is and can follow code if needed. Shipper says Every could never have hired him for this role a year earlier. The coding models are now good enough that his limited technical knowledge, paired with sharp product sense, writing sense, and attention to users, makes him formidable. According to Shipper, he ships faster than almost anyone on the team and turns every user conversation into a story about what to build and fix next, without needing to organize a team to do it. Rachitsky, who has long argued that deciding what to build is the skill that remains once building is automated, jokes that this is the most contrarian episode they have done.

Full-stack designers are Shipper's other big winners. Designers have long watched engineers resist or mis-implement their interactions. Now they can build those interactions themselves, and Shipper sees them submitting pull requests instead of handing work off. That matters because distinctive design is exactly what's hard to get from vibe coding, where everything looks the same. He sees a large opportunity for designers to improve and even start their own companies. Rachitsky agrees that creativity will matter more as a way to stand out from the slop. They note that designer hiring, according to Rachitsky's job-market research, hasn't grown in a while, and they flag it as something to watch.

1:13:18

No job apocalypse, and how to "ride the models"

Shipper believes "the AI job apocalypse is not really a thing." Companies are reorganizing, and he suspects much of that is overhiring or weak performance with AI as the excuse. He doesn't expect the mass unemployment some AI CEOs describe. He admits he has no crystal ball but says he has seen enough model releases to form a view. Models "make yesterday's human competence cheap." They take what has already been done and make it cheap to deploy anywhere, so it spreads fast: landing pages everywhere, slop tweets everywhere. Because everyone uses roughly the same models, default output looks the same and becomes commoditized. Humans then take that "frozen human competence from yesterday" and make something new for their particular situation. He argues that the models' nature, combined with the incentive for model companies to make them compliant and aligned, means they will structurally trail the people pushing ahead. When those advances get absorbed into models, more room opens up. That's why, in his view, everyone becoming an engineer creates more demand for engineers, who are needed to decide how all that output should actually fit into a codebase.

Rachitsky worries this could sound too comforting and asks what people should actually do. Shipper's answer is that "the only thing you need to do is ride the models." Use them for whatever you do, work inside tools like Codex and Cowork, and try each new model to see what new powers it offers, rather than ignoring it out of fear, which he calls a rational response. For someone at a company like Salesforce, which may not give employees access to the latest models, he suggests doing it in their own time. His personal practice is to play. He keeps a set of tasks models can't yet do and "turns the rock over again" with each release, as with his senior engineer benchmark jumping to about 60.

He argues that the edge of AI isn't in San Francisco. It is wherever AI meets a real person doing something. The builders don't fully know how their models will be used, so anyone trying a new model can be among the first to discover what it's good for. He thinks Every, based in Brooklyn, is well ahead of many people in San Francisco because the team uses AI for everything. Rachitsky adds that nearly anyone can get access to frontier models on release day, though Shipper jokes that seeing Anthropic staff using Mythos at an event annoyed him. Shipper says that if IBM had invented AI, it would cost a fortune and be used in uninteresting ways. He considers it important that AI came out of a Silicon Valley culture that wants intelligence "too cheap to meter."

Rachitsky observes a two-sided picture: SaaS, jobs, email, and Slack persist while every role transforms. Shipper agrees and offers a metaphor. Our intuitions about the future resemble medieval ideas about the edge of the map, where either dragons or utopia wait. When you get there, you find some good things, some bad things, and another horizon. He warns against getting carried away with stories that sound real in the moment. He also calls AI companies' fear-based messaging ineffective and wrong, while granting that it's genuine.

1:23:44

Closing advice and lightning round

Shipper's closing advice is to ride the models. Try all your workflows in Codex or Cowork. If your company won't allow it, experiment on your own time with agent products like OpenClaw or Hermes, or simpler options for less technical people, so you get comfortable with both modes of work. Above all, he says, try to have fun. FOMO about losing your job is a worse driver of useful discoveries than doing something enjoyable. Rachitsky echoes a past guest's advice to find your "moment of joy" with AI by picking a real problem and trying to solve it with tools like Lovable, Claude Code, or Replit.

In the lightning round, Shipper recommended three books:

  • The last chapter of Annie Dillard's The Writing Life, which every Every employee receives and is expected to read.
  • Churchill's history of World War II, which he values as the account of someone who both did the work and wrote about it.
  • The Rigor of Angels, which links Heisenberg, Borges, and Kant and which he found full of overlaps with AI.

He is also watching Knicks basketball, which he took up this year, and the docuseries The Dark Wizard about climber and BASE jumper Dean Potter.

He named two mottos. The first is one he wrote in college: "Do things worth writing about and write things worth reading." The second comes from a meditation teacher he admires, who has since died: meet hard things from "a position of spaciousness and strength." He says this has helped him face fears about how AI might change his job.

Asked for an underrated AI tool, he said Codex again. He says he recently urged Boris and Kat from the Claude Code team at an Anthropic conference to try it, especially for tasks like email and analytics. He thinks Anthropic can catch up. He sees it as a horse race in which OpenAI has "gotten back the mandate of heaven a little bit" after a rough six months or so. He says he isn't sponsored by OpenAI, still uses Claude a lot, and would switch if the lead changed, just as he was loud about Claude Code when it was his favorite. Whether his predictions hold up is what he and Rachitsky plan to check in May 2027.