In mid-September, Anthropic CEO Dario Amodei joined a growing group of researchers calling for the AI industry to slow down. While some have questioned these researchers’ motivation for voicing concerns about the rapid pace of development, the plea highlighted a key tension between safety and speed. The underlying problem is not simply a technical error, but a sociotechnical failure: Pressure to move quickly has made it hard for engineers to fully assess and manage new risks of increasingly powerful AI systems. It is a clear warning that responsible engineering requires more than technical expertise; engineers must also understand workplace pressures, moral and ethical rules, and the social consequences rooted in the systems they create. Cases like this, alongside invasive surveillance technologies and biased AI tools, have exposed serious shortcomings in how engineers recognize and address the ethical and social implications of their work. While the need to educate graduates in ethics and social responsibility is widely recognized, a persistent gap remains—these topics are too often treated as afterthoughts, disconnected from the technical content of engineering coursework. This siloed approach leaves graduates ill-equipped to address real-world challenges; indeed, only about a third of engineering professionals in the United States report having received training on their public welfare responsibilities during their formal engineering education. We are working to bridge this gap by designing two complementary instructional approaches, one that integrates social issues directly into foundation technical coursework and a second that prepares students to act as “public welfare watchdogs” through a standalone engineering course. By embedding ethics and social responsibility training directly into the core of undergraduate engineering coursework, we equip future professionals with the agency they will need to protect the public good. The gap in instruction about ethics and social responsibility Across the engineering profession, there is a persistent belief that technical skill-building is central to engineering, while ethical, social, and public welfare concerns are peripheral or distracting. This technical/social dualism is evident even in the evaluation of scholarly research. For instance, we recently submitted an academic position paper discussing this ethics education gap to a leading peer-reviewed engineering journal. It was dismissed by reviewers along the very same dualism it described. One reviewer warned that it would be “highly irresponsible” to challenge technical skill-building as “the foundation of any kind of engineering” by adding ethics and social responsibility training into engineering classrooms. Another reviewer objected that integrating these considerations into foundational courses risks “distracting the students from fully absorbing the technology.” These comments miss the core argument of our work: that ethics and social responsibility are integral to responsible technical practice. Today, accreditation agencies like ABET (formerly known as the Accreditation Board for Engineering and Technology) and professional licensing bodies like the National Society of Professional Engineers mandate student outcomes related to social and public welfare consequences. But these curriculum requirements tend to be unhelpfully generic and minimally enforced. As a result, engineering students often receive ethics instruction through introductory or non-engineering coursework, where the focus is on codes of conduct and academic integrity, rather than deeper topics of social responsibility. This instruction is almost always disconnected from the complex real-world dilemmas engineers face. Indeed, we find that only ethics instruction in actual engineering courses (not in other parts of the curriculum) can effectively instill ethical awareness as professionals. Concerningly, only about 4 in 10 engineers in the United States recall receiving this kind of training, and 3 in 10 report never receiving training on their public welfare responsibilities at any point in their careers. This leaves most of the profession underprepared to handle the complex challenges of engineering practice. A new approach: Integrating technical and social dimensions To advance a new paradigm—one that embeds ethics and social responsibility issues within the undergraduate engineering curriculum—we’ve designed two innovative course-based approaches: a library of one-hour sociotechnical modules for foundational circuits courses (described here and here) and a new engineering course dedicated to public welfare responsibilities. The first approach integrates discussions about relevant social issues directly into foundational engineering courses, where students begin to form their identities as engineers. “Introduction to Circuits” is typically the first course in the electrical engineering major and is a requirement for many other engineering disciplines, making it a powerful site for introducing social content and ethical reasoning. We designed several one-hour modules for this course, where social issues provide context for a technical topic, offering a manageable entry point for faculty who may feel ill-prepared to teach about ethics and social responsibility. While many engineering faculty recognize the importance of teaching students about these topics, they struggle to integrate them into their courses amid heavy teaching and research demands. To overcome these challenges, each module provides ready-to-use materials, including lecture slides with scripts and homework and exam problems. Integrating these modules directly into the course signals to students that sociotechnical awareness is not an “add-on,” but a required professional competency. Our module on hospital power prioritization, for instance, connects the technical topics of power and equivalent circuits to the ethical challenges of healthcare infrastructure. Students learn about the reality of “red outlets” in medical settings, debating the power needs of specific wards (e.g., the intensive care unit, operating rooms, and physiotherapy rooms) to decide which branches should receive emergency power during a hypothetical outage. Our conflict minerals module connects the technical topic of capacitors to the global tantalum supply chain. Students calculate the amount of tantalum used in cell phones and identify mining locations in regions like the Democratic Republic of the Congo, where revenue often fuels armed conflict and human rights abuses. Students research the conflict-mineral policies of major companies such as Apple and Samsung and reflect on their future roles as ethical designers and consumers. Student responses to these modules have been overwhelmingly positive. In interviews, students told us that the content helped them get away from the “stigma that engineers only worry about math” and made the work more meaningful. We plan to share the modules widely to help circuits instructors across the globe bridge the technical-social divide. Beyond these integrated modules, our second approach is a standalone engineering course—Public Welfare Responsibilities in Engineering (PWRE)—that helps round out students’ sociotechnical education by preparing them to fulfil their professional obligations as engineers. While most dedicated ethics courses end by introducing engineers’ abstract responsibilities, PWRE helps students recognize specific public welfare concerns, enhances their motivation to act when they encounter them, and teaches concrete, practical intervention strategies. In addition to teaching students about professional codes, such as the IEEE Code of Ethics, PWRE engages students in discussion of where these formal definitions may fall short, and how structural barriers such as workplace culture can hinder engineers from fulfilling these responsibilities. Then, the course equips students with intervention strategies. Students learn about their rights and responsibilities as whistleblowers, review tactics for seeking advice from professional societies, and practice writing op-eds to raise the alarm about ethical issues to the broader public. Our research shows that the course produces notable shifts in students’ ethical agency, strengthening their ability to serve as “public welfare watchdogs” in the modern workplace. Ethical engineers for the future Today’s engineering graduates face complex sociotechnical challenges beyond AI expansion, including climate change and global supply chains; they need tools to navigate ambiguity and act ethically in uncertain contexts. To meet these evolving demands, engineering education must move beyond outdated modes of instruction that focus only on building technical skills—some of which may soon be outsourced to AI. We must fundamentally reimagine the role of ethics and social responsibility, embedding them across the engineering curriculum and throughout the professional formation of engineers. All engineers learn to solve problems, but ethical engineers can also discern which problems are worth solving and anticipate the consequences of innovation for society. By centering ethics and social responsibility as core priorities of the profession, we can prepare engineers to be stewards of technology and trusted voices in public discourse. As one student reflected after participating in our modules, “we are a part of the issue if we don’t decide to fix it.”

Inside the harnesses that let AI carry a job across hours, days, and conversations.

how agents turn ruthless on paper first

I talk to a lot of old people, those who were born in the 20th century, and if I ask them what the word “unalive” means, they usually have no idea what I’m talking about, except for some of them who have kids or who study Internet culture. This will, of course, probably seem very weird to most people who were born in or grew up in the 21st century. Just to recap for the olds: “unalive” is the word you use to represent concepts like dying, or death, or killing or being killed, on digital platforms where saying those words accurately will cause the algorithm to punish or censor you. Or, maybe, where the perception is that using those words will result in being censored by the algorithm, and no one is actually willing to find out what happens if you use the forbidden words. This sort of attack on people’s expression started on platforms like TikTok, where nearly all content is distributed through an algorithmic feed, but has since become ubiquitous in nearly all digital media that we see. In fact, these tics are now so prevalent that it’s routine to hear people using this kind of language in everyday life, even though there’s not yet an algorithm to appease in the physical world. I’ve heard people say, out loud, “he unalived himself”, in reference to someone dying by suicide. And all of this has become even more visible in recent days as online conversation has turned to discussion of the horrific lack of accountability around the tragic rape case at Cornell University. Across the Internet, people are routinely referring to the central crime in the case as r*pe or “grape” or even using the 🍇 emoji, without a second thought for what it means that the very word can’t be said online anymore. Or, at least, the assumption is that it can’t be said. To be clear, I am very much in favor of people using content warnings or sensitivity markers for content, and fine with people using abbreviations like “SA” for references to disturbing or triggering topics like sexual assault; we should provide people with as much context and control as possible when choosing what information they want to consume and when. I also know that sometimes, people use lesser terms for stressful subjects like death or assault to create a bit of ironic distance from painful or upsetting topics. But most of the different variations of wording and emojis are coming from trying to appease the platforms, and there’s a heavy cost for those who are worried about being mindful: If someone is using a tool to filter out content, it will no longer be effective because everyone is using misspellings and euphemisms and imagery to get around the algorithm. The spread of censored and mangled syntax is happening because people believe, or have experienced, that platforms will silence them for accurately describing the world in plain language. This shit is terrible, and it has to stop. You Were Not Born With These Constraints One of the things that’s most concerning to me is that an entire generation has grown up not realizing how extreme it is that their very language is being chosen for them by platforms run by people who hate that generation’s ability to express itself, and who hate the things it has to say. From their youngest days, this generation grew up watching people make stupid faces at them for YouTube thumbnails and never had a chance to reflect on the fact that those creators didn’t want to be humiliating themselves by making those expressions — the demands of the algorithms of Big Tech forced them to do that. The rituals of feeding the algorithm are so built into people’s everyday habits that they’re invisible to people who weren’t alive before today’s platforms took over. Every parent of my cohort remembers the first time they heard their toddler finish doing something cute in their living room, and then turn around and say, “please like and subscribe!” afterwards. It’s a ghastly, sickening feeling to confront the fact that our little kids were being brainwashed into thinking that every adorable thing they did should be followed by a prompt to provide data to Google. Over on Instagram, where people originally signed up thinking they were going to see someone’s vacation pictures, or shots of their cousin’s kids, you’re now stuck watching people beg for everyone to reply with cultish phrases in the comments, which will then earn them an obviously AI-generated response in return, all in service of “showing activity” to the algorithm, like it’s an angry god that needs a sacrifice. They’re just not sure exactly what the angry god wants. Your free speech was taken away from you, and the people who did it are the same ones who spent years pretending to care about “free expression”. They contrived examples of lack of free speech on college campuses while squashing protests, and cried crocodile tears about “cancel culture” while getting people fired for political criticism. Now they have no problem with billionaires deciding exactly what words everyone is allowed to say. Larry Ellison is not content with his family owning all of the movies and TV shows — his family has to control what words people are allowed to speak on TikTok, too. Elon Musk isn’t content to merely generate and distribute child sexual abuse material for profit — he wants to silence the messages of the few decent people who are foolish enough to remain on Twitter/X, too. (That’s why I wrote you a guide on how to get your organization off of that cursed platform.) Now that an entire generation has grown up using these Orwellian euphemisms, and all of the Big AI products are trained on the Internet that was created under this regime, do you think today’s AI tools even know that the real, uncensored world exists? If you can’t say “genocide” on any of the major platforms, yet those are the ones all of the Big AI tools used as their training data... well, then the AI tools sure aren’t very likely to know much about genocide, are they? Fuck the Algorithm Our creativity can be constrained by the language we use — our imaginations are limited by what we can think to say. If we’re trained to limit the words we speak just by habit, and those limits are put in place by people whose social, political, cultural and moral goals are the opposite of what we value, then our work is unalive before it is even born. The answer to this is simple: say what you mean. This will take, to some degree, courage. It may even take, I hesitate to say, some sacrifice. When I suggest this course of action to people, they inevitably say, “But it will cost me audience!” or “But what if I lose followers!” or “What if they demonetize me!” Okay, what if they do? What if they do. Are you willing to push on this? To make a point about it? To move to platforms where you can actually say what you mean? Or to remember that you already have platforms where you can say what you mean? On an email newsletter or podcast you can say whatever the hell you want and nobody can stop you. On my blog right here, I can even curse in a headline and it won’t affect anything about how my site operates. (And a reminder: Substack is not an email newsletter, and a Spotify show is not a podcast — they’ll be unaliving your distribution any day now.) If you are a 20th century relic like me, it is incumbent upon you to remind the generation that grew up inside the algorithm that another world is possible, and that we know this because we lived it. We were able to style a MySpace page in any way that we wanted; the code for LiveJournal was entirely open source so there was no part of the algorithm that was unknowable. A blog like the one you’re reading right now could be made by anyone, and put up for pennies, and nobody could stop it from being read by millions of people. (And that last one? It’s still possible.) If you are from this century, forget all that rambling bullshit about ancient history: all that matters is you getting what you deserve, because you’ve been fucked over by the same billionaires who’ve poisoned your planet and infested your world with slop. The best artists around you are invisible to you, and the most important statements by activists that you care about are being silenced. It’s not a conspiracy, it’s a system working as designed. And the proof is as obvious as the fact that the angriest activists you know can’t even talk about systemic abuses or state violence without having to put it in algorithmically approved speech or censoring their captions like they’re going to be read by 5-year-olds. It should make you furious. It is time to kill “unalive”. The response is simple: For every message you put out, start by saying what you mean. Don’t work backwards from what the algorithm wants or what a platform permits. Build a presence on every platform you can, even the ones where you have fewer followers or where you’re harder to find. Tell your audience that your speech being free matters more than corporate convenience. Keep saying it, and keep it positive: independence gets them better art, better information, and more connected communities. Build alliances with other artists, activists and people who share your values, and let them know you’re going to start sharing your work uncensored. Start releasing your work uncensored and see where the platforms push back. (You may be surprised: sometimes you were censoring yourself in anticipation of limits that weren’t even there.) If a platform does try to limit your reach or expression, make a LOT OF NOISE about it. Tell the press, rally your alliance, and spread the word on your other platforms, using the moment to build audience and raise support there. Get others to amplify the parts of your work that don’t violate platform policy, so the controversy drives people to the rest. Find the others pushing back on algorithmic control of expression, and raise and praise their work when they do the same. If we keep accepting the words that are forced upon us by TikTok and Meta and Google and all the rest, while platforms like Twitter/X allow the most hateful and harmful content in the world to be distributed completely unfettered, we’ll only see authoritarianism rise, and the harms against the vulnerable accelerate. But what breaks my heart almost as much is that we’ll see so many brilliant artists and activists and thinkers whose genius will be muted or silenced by mindless, heartless algorithms that capriciously decide who gets to say exactly what words, in what ways. I get angry every time I think about it. The tech tycoons get ever more brazen in what they’re willing to say publicly, boasting about how they’re going to cause the end of the world, or calling for ethnic cleansing, all while putting tighter and tighter reins on the speech and expression of ordinary people. It’s time for “unalive” to die.

More than a year ago I wrote a few posts here that recommended people not to load custom tools into their context (or MCP servers) but to just use more scripts. Most importantly I wrote that Code Is All You Need and I wrote about that MCP needs code. With Pi 1.0 we now added MCP support via Codemode which in some ways is a long time coming, but then also maybe somewhat surprising to some. So I want to share some updated thoughts on this blog on what this all means. What Are Tools When a harness like Pi provides tools for an LLM to call, it does so by supplying some tool definitions which then translate into some token structure on the server side. Whether a model is encouraged to call a tool is the result of the reinforcement learning process. Something I wrote about before if you want to learn more. One of the reasons we strongly lean towards CLI and bash is because it allows easy composition of calls, and because the model also learns how the file system works when it’s trained. So when it invokes a tool like echo foo > /tmp/test.txt the model also learns that after that tool call, there is now a file called test.txt in /tmp. However bash has one fundamental limitation which is that it can only compose programs that run. And there are some things, which are not programs, but native tools to the LLM and they sort of have to be. The most obvious example here is read or view_image. If a multimodal model needs to read an image, it cannot use cat for that because the harness needs to inject the actual image payload into the protocol of the LLM. Another quite vivid example are sub agents. In order to spawn and orchestrate sub agents, it’s tricky to avoid tools that are provided by the harness. While in theory the agent could provide a CLI tool that talks to the outer harness via environment variables and Unix sockets, it’s a rather crude process. It however has another issue, and that is where the code runs. Brains vs Hands To better understand that, it’s important to think a bit more about where all the bits and pieces run. There really usually are two different systems involved. The first is the brain, the harness: it runs on one machine. It’s trusted. The second is often the same machine, but it’s really where the tools are executing: the hands. In Pi we now call this the execution environment, but you can think of it as the target of all the operations. Crucially what is important for us, is that there is a dividing line between the harness brain and the target environment that runs bash and executes the tools. And splitting this in half has some really important consequences. For a start it means that they are running on different file systems and they have different levels of trust. If you for instance use a sandboxing solution like Gondolin your bash stuff will be sandboxed just fine, but the harness itself will not be. Orchestrating The Harness Which brings us to what Codemode really does: it’s a way for the LLM to express and orchestrate complex operations on the harness side, but not the execution environment side. Codemode runs in the harness, in its own sandbox. In case of Pi it’s running in QuickJS within a WASM runtime with intentional limitations: no network, no file system, no timers, limited RAM. The only way is to call more tools. You could also imagine that Codemode could run Scheme or some other language as well. If you are not familiar with Codemode, it’s basically just a way to issue tool calls from within some language, in our case JavaScript. That allows you to compose those calls without necessarily going through the LLM’s context. Credit for naming goes to our friends at Cloudflare who coined it. For instance if you issue a bash call as a regular tool call in the LLM, then we only throw the trailing 2000 lines into the context and if the agent wants more, it needs to look at the overflow file itself. If however the agent issues that invocation via Codemode, then the Codemode side gets larger outputs sent structurally. Most importantly, because Codemode is JavaScript the agent can express concurrent operations and basic workflows. A common way in which you see agents now use this, is to first probe at 5-10 items from some tool response to see what it looks like, and to then write a Codemode script that processes the next n items. Codemode also allows you to throw state into the transcript! That means that one Codemode invocation can stash away data, that the next call in the session can load again. And remember: this is on the harness host, not the sandbox. In case of Pi, Codemode also allows you to issue calls that naturally do not make any sense in Pi’s traditional interface. For instance if you want to generate images with an image model or you want to classify some text with a one shot classifier model, those Pi APIs are exposed via Codemode, but not via regular tools where they would just waste context. What It Looks Like So now that we talked a bunch about it, it’s probably worth being a bit more explicit about it. Let’s walk ourselves through some invocations of Codemode of recent Pi sessions of mine. Note that none of this code is human written. It’s from real sessions of Pi, just re-indented for your viewing pleasure. The agent starts using Codemode automatically either because it’s a task where the model already naturally picks up that tool, or because a user asked it to. Note that Codemode is by default only enabled in Pi when MCP is enabled, but you can turn it on with "defaultTools": ["+codemode"] in the settings. Just ask Pi to enable it for you. Generating Images Let’s start simple with image generation. Image generation is a feature that Pi supports in the AI SDK core, but it’s not a tool that the agent can use. In the past the only way to use image models has been to write a bespoke extension or to have the agent run node itself and use the internal image APIs. However because we expose quite a few of the internal model APIs within Codemode, it means that the agent can use it: const [painter] = await models.getAvailableOfType("image"); const result = await models.generateImages(painter, { input: [{ type: "text", text: "A cute little puppy sitting on a grassy " + "lawn, soft natural light, photorealistic" }], }); if (result.stopReason !== "stop") return result.errorMessage; for (const block of result.output) { if (block.type === "image") image(block); else text(block.text); } Note that the call to image() sends the image back as image content to the LLM. On the harness side it feeds it directly into both the agent, as well as onto disk as a temporary artifact in case the agent wants to be able to pass that image back to bash. Classifying Things Similar things apply to classifier models such as Jev. They also do not fit well into the workflows of an agent through the typical tools. But rather than making a bespoke tool available, Codemode just allows the agent to reach into the AI SDK and invoke those directly. Here you can see how Jev is used to mass process GitHub issues for a quick sentiment analysis: const jev = await models.getModelOfType("classifier", "typesafe", "jev-latest"); const r = await tools.bash({ command: "gh issue list --state open --limit 100 " + "--json number,title,body,comments", }); const issues = JSON.parse(r.output); const results = await Promise.all(issues.map(async (issue) => { const res = await models.classify(jev, { state: { title: issue.title, body: (issue.body || "").slice(0, 4000), comments: issue.comments.slice(-5).map(c => c.body.slice(0, 800)), }, questions: { sentiment: { type: "choice", instructions: "What is the overall sentiment of the author towards pi?", criteria: { positive: "Appreciative, happy, constructive praise", neutral: "Matter-of-fact report or request without emotion", negative: "Frustrated, annoyed, upset, or angry", }, }, frustration: { type: "score", instructions: "How frustrated is the reporter?", criteria: ["not at all", "mildly", "clearly frustrated", "very angry"], }, kind: { type: "choice", instructions: "What kind of issue is this?", criteria: { bug: "Bug report or regression", feature: "Feature request or enhancement", question: "Question or support request", other: "Docs, discussion, meta, spam", }, }, }, }); if (res.stopReason !== "stop") { return { n: issue.number, title: issue.title, error: res.errorMessage }; } return { n: issue.number, title: issue.title, ...res.answers }; })); store("sentiment_results", results); return results .filter(r => !r.error) .sort((a, b) => b.frustration.score - a.frustration.score) .slice(0, 12) .map(r => `#${r.n} ${r.frustration.score.toFixed(2)} [${r.kind.choice}] ${r.title}`); Note how in that above example we also call store() which dumps the result of that execution into the session transcript. A future invocation of Codemode can thus read back that result if it wants to. The Promise.all here is fine, because Pi limits the total number of concurrent tool executions itself to four and maintains a queue for the rest. A more adventurous example is to use Jev to drive a game engine for debugging purposes: Codemode with Jev for Game Debugging Here it knows about my tankctl command and it built itself quickly a minimal harness around it to drive a game loop to assist a user with debugging a problem. Note how it built a 30 step loop in which each step goes back to both the game engine to get a text dump of what’s going on, and then to Jev to determine what to do next: const jev = await models.getModelOfType("classifier", "typesafe", "jev-latest"); const tank = async (cmd) => (await tools.bash({ command: `tools/tankctl "${cmd}"` })).output; await tank("start --map assets/maps/night_arena.map"); const questions = { action: { type: "choice", instructions: "You control the tank '@' in a top-down tank game. " + "Choose the best next action.", criteria: { attack: "an enemy has line of sight to you and you can fire at it", approach: "no enemy has line of sight; drive toward the nearest enemy", dodge: "an enemy shot is heading at you and will hit soon", powerup: "a powerup is close and no enemy threatens you", }, }, }; function commandFor(choice, st) { const p = st.player; const enemy = st.enemies.filter(e => !e.dead) .sort((a, b) => (b.los - a.los) || (a.dist - b.dist))[0]; if (choice === "attack" && enemy) { return `fire_at tank ${enemy.id}; frames 30 until clear,damage,kill`; } if (choice === "dodge") { // move perpendicular to the closest incoming shot const s = st.projectiles.filter(s => !s.yours) .sort((a, b) => a.eta - b.eta)[0]; const dir = s && Math.abs(s.vel[0]) > Math.abs(s.vel[1]) ? (p.pos[1] > s.pos[1] ? "+down" : "+up") : (p.pos[0] > (s ? s.pos[0] : 0) ? "+right" : "+left"); return `input ${dir}; frames 20 until damage; input stop`; } const powerup = st.powerups.filter(u => u.available) .sort((a, b) => a.dist - b.dist)[0]; if (choice === "powerup" && powerup) { return `goto ${powerup.pos[0]} ${powerup.pos[1]} 180`; } return enemy ? `goto ${enemy.pos[0]} ${enemy.pos[1]} 90` : null; } const log = []; for (let step = 0; step < 30; step++) { const st = JSON.parse(await tank("state")); if (st.state !== "playing") break; const threats = st.projectiles .filter(s => !s.yours && s.miss_dist < 1.5 && s.eta < 1.5) .map(s => `incoming shot dist ${s.dist} eta ${s.eta}s`) .join("\n") || "no incoming shots"; const r = await models.classify(jev, { state: { map: await tank("view 8"), threats, hp: st.player.hp }, questions, }); if (r.stopReason !== "stop") { log.push(`#${step} classifier error: ${r.errorMessage}`); break; } const choice = r.answers.action.choice; const cmd = commandFor(choice, st); if (!cmd) break; log.push(`#${step} hp=${st.player.hp} ${choice} -> ${await tank(cmd)}`); } return log.join("\n"); Calling MCP Servers Lastly, Codemode obviously is great for calling MCP servers. And because we do not actually expose any of the MCP tools to the LLM, the agent first uses provided APIs to issue a tool search within Codemode to discover what it might be able to do with the connected servers. This form of progressive discovery makes the whole MCP business work well enough for a lot of use cases today. Here for instance you can see the agent reach for the Sentry MCP straight away, even without discovering the tools, presumably because it has learned during the RL process already about what the Sentry MCP looks like. But it learns from what we inject into the system prompt, that the Sentry server is available to begin with. It’s not completely guessing here. const orgs = await tools.mcp__sentry__find_organizations({}); const { organizations } = orgs.structuredContent; const results = await Promise.allSettled(organizations.map(org => tools.mcp__sentry__find_projects({ organizationSlug: org.slug, regionUrl: org.regionUrl, }) )); return organizations.map((org, i) => { const r = results[i]; if (r.status !== "fulfilled") return { org: org.slug, error: String(r.reason) }; if (r.value.isError) return { org: org.slug, error: r.value.content }; return { org: org.slug, projects: r.value.structuredContent.projects.map(p => p.slug), }; }); Modern MCP Is A Fight I really don’t want to talk too much about MCP here, but MCP is in fact a protocol that greatly benefits from Codemode. The problem in parts is that MCP in practice often targets harnesses that do not (yet?) use Codemode. But the tide is shifting. In the meantime, a temporary crutch has been to do what Cloudflare did, and do Codemode within the MCP server. But now we have Codemode in Codemode which is pretty bad. It means double JSON escaping, easy for smaller models to get confused by and the inner code cannot call the outer tools. So if you for instance use the Cloudflare MCP servers in Pi, the agent needs to write JavaScript and funnel it through more JavaScript. This is really not optimal, but it’s also understandable that this is happening: const accRes = await tools.mcp__cloudflare__execute({ code: `async () => { const r = await cloudflare.request({ method: "GET", path: "/accounts" }); return r.result.map(a => ({ id: a.id, name: a.name })); }`, }); const accounts = JSON.parse(accRes.content.map(c => c.text).join("")); const out = []; for (const account of accounts) { const r = await tools.mcp__cloudflare__execute({ account_id: account.id, code: `async () => { const r = await cloudflare.request({ method: "GET", path: \`/accounts/\${accountId}/workers/scripts\`, }); return r.result.map(s => ({ id: s.id, modified: s.modified_on })); }`, }); out.push({ account: account.name, workers: r.content.map(c => c.text).join("") }); } return out; MCP Desires So to end things off: how well does Codemode work with MCP today? Well … not amazingly well. That’s because MCP servers are not really targeting harnesses that use Codemode yet (though at this point I think most harnesses support it). For this to work well some recommendations: Structured content: Codemode wants calls to return some nicely formatted JSON. So that needs to come back from the server, and many don’t do that yet. The outputSchema system in MCP is great for that. Consistent results: an interesting failure case is when an MCP server does not return consistent data. For instance because it tries to token optimize things depending on how many items are in the result set. This can cause an initial probe with 5 items to succeed, but then fail when the server returns the maximum batch size. Large binary data: today MCP does not yet support large binary data so quite a few use cases that are really interesting do not work well at all yet. You end up with all kinds of weird workarounds such as pre-signed URLs to allow file uploads then to happen through non MCP channels. Composable tool search: the MCP server might know better than the MCP client which tool is appropriate for a task. But there is no good mechanism today that allows a harness to fan out tool searches across multiple MCP servers. It’s all emergent behavior and it does not scale well to multiple active servers. Future of Codemode So where does this leave us? Is this a reversal of what I wrote a year ago where I encouraged CLIs? I don’t think so. In fact, the MCP ecosystem from my perspective picked up on exactly what we pointed out a year ago works: code. But Codemode goes beyond MCP in that it can act as a capable mechanism within the harness to express more freedom for the agent. There are however also some things that we still need to figure out. For one, durability with Codemode is trickier. We might have to adopt some ideas from durable workflow engines here to snapshot invocations. Or maybe, something like Starlark is a better composition language than JavaScript given its deterministic nature. Images, binary data and just the inability of this pattern to work with smaller models is also something that needs to be fleshed out. So it’s for sure not a perfect solution yet, but it’s quite a useful pattern that I expect us to leverage more.