Hi, I’m Scott Davis
a Thought Leader. Mentor. Change Agent. Father. Tech Junkie. Husband. Motivator. Christian. Software Engineer. Fiction Author.

Stop Writing Code (For Real This Time)

The Thanksgiving Break That Changed Everything I Thought I Knew About Software Engineering

Before Thanksgiving, I wrote a blog post telling engineers to stop writing code. I meant it then—but I had no idea how much I would mean it just four days later.

Over the holiday break, I discovered the power of running multiple asynchronous AI agents—parallel workflows, parallel reasoning, parallel execution. Instead of a single assistant waiting for instructions, I suddenly had a small fleet operating simultaneously, synthesizing requirements, generating code, validating designs, and iterating on their own output while I slept.

When I came back after that four-day weekend, I looked at what we had produced—production-ready, deployable code—and every metric I could find pointed to the same shocking conclusion:

My productivity jumped by a factor of 25×.

Not 20%.
Not 2×.
Twenty-five times.

No human engineer can compete with that—not with raw typing speed, not with pattern recall, not with efficiency or discipline or focus. And the craziest part? This wasn’t some exotic hardware or enterprise framework. This was Claude and a handful of orchestrated agents on commodity hardware.

And here’s the part that matters:
My domain isn’t life-support software, real-time avionics, critical infrastructure, or high-frequency trading.
But 80% of developers don’t work in those domains either.

For the vast majority of us, this level of acceleration isn’t just possible—
it’s here. Now. Today.

The Post-Thanksgiving Realization: Everything Is About to Change

When I said engineers should stop writing code, I was being provocative but directionally serious. Now? I’m not being provocative at all.

I am telling you plainly: everything about software engineering is about to change.

The structures we built—bootcamps, universities, job ladders, software teams, agile rituals, entire SDLC frameworks—were all designed around an assumption that humans would be typing code for the foreseeable future.

That assumption is already obsolete.

The moment AI can generate production-grade systems faster than we can articulate them, the bottleneck shifts entirely to human understanding:

• What are we building?
• Why are we building it?
• How should it behave?
• What constraints and tradeoffs matter?

The typing is gone.
The syntax is gone.
The need to “remember how to do X in framework Y” is gone.

Engineering becomes architecture and intent.
AI becomes implementation.

And once you internalize that, another thought naturally follows…

Eventually, We Won’t Need Code at All

Anyone know how to use a sliderule? Abacus? Yea, me either.

But, there was a time.

Code is an abstraction.
A convenience layer.
A human-readable facade over assembly, which itself is a facade over machine instructions.

We invented code because humans needed a way to tell a machine what to do.

But if humans no longer need to tell machines how to do anything—if we are only specifying what and why—then the idea of “code” becomes an artifact of a transitional era.

Eventually, we will express intent in a form that AI translates directly to assembly.
Eventually, assembly itself becomes another abstraction AI optimizes away.
Eventually, the entire notion of “programming languages” dissolves.

And when people ask me:

“But how are you going to debug assembly?”

My answer is simple:

I won’t. The AI will.

That’s the point.

The machine will diagnose the machine.

We will describe outcomes, constraints, rules, safety boundaries, and performance characteristics.
The AI will write, rewrite, optimize, and debug everything beneath that.

Humans won’t debug machine code.
Machines will debug machine code.

The New Role of the Engineer

So where does that leave us?

Exactly where our value has always been—
in the problem space, not the code space.

Human engineers will become:

• Architects
• Domain experts
• Systems thinkers
• Constraint designers
• Quality governors
• Stewards of business logic
• Modelers of intent

We move up the stack.
AI consumes everything below it.

The job of engineering is about to become more strategic, more conceptual, and—ironically—more human.

Stop Writing Code. Start Defining Systems.

The “stop writing code” line began as a joke with a manager.
Then it became an observation.
Now it’s a prediction.

If your engineers are still typing code manually, you are operating at a disadvantage that grows larger every week. A year from now, it may be impossible to compete.

The shift is happening.
The tools are here.
The acceleration is real.

And after a Thanksgiving weekend that multiplied my output by 25×, I am convinced:

We are witnessing the last era in which human beings will write code.
The future belongs to those who learn to think, design, and communicate at the level where code is no longer required.

Everything is about to change.
And honestly?
It’s going to be incredible.

Letter 12 — On the Triumph of Christ

Dear Mom,

I was thinking about how stories end. Movies, books, even our own lives—we always long for a good ending, a resolution where the struggle is worth it. The Bible tells us history itself is a story, and it doesn’t end in defeat or escape. It ends in Christ’s triumph.

Paul says, “Then comes the end, when he delivers the kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power. For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death” (1 Cor. 15:24–26). Christ is reigning now, subduing His enemies, and one day He will return—not to begin His victory, but to complete it.

Revelation gives us this vision: “The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever” (Rev. 11:15). Psalm 22 declares: “All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the Lord, and all the families of the nations shall worship before you” (Ps. 22:27).

Irenaeus, a pastor in the 2nd century, said: “Christ shall come at the end of time, when He has subdued all His enemies and given life to all who follow Him.” From the earliest days, the church saw history not ending in failure, but in Christ’s victory.

Mom, this is where my hope lies. Not in escape from tribulation, but in Christ’s triumph over it. Not in retreat, but in advance. Not in a divided plan, but in one kingdom filling the earth. When He returns, He will not find His Bride hiding in fear, but shining in glory, made ready for the wedding feast.

That is the story I long for both of us to embrace. Christ wins. And in Him, we win too.

With love,
Your son

Passages to read together:

• 1 Corinthians 15:24–26
• Revelation 11:15
• Psalm 22:27
• Philippians 2:9–11

Letter 11 — On the Gospel’s Power in History

Dear Mom,

I was watching the news the other day, and I found my heart getting heavy. It feels like things are getting worse—violence, division, anger. It can make you wonder if the gospel is really making a difference in this world, or if we’re just waiting for it all to fall apart. I remember being taught that this is exactly what we should expect before Jesus returns—a world in total collapse, and the church making a hasty escape. But lately, as I’ve studied the Scriptures, I’ve been filled with a different, and I believe a more biblical, hope.

You see, Jesus taught us to see history differently. He said the kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed—the smallest of seeds—yet when it is grown it becomes a tree, and the birds of the air come to nest in its branches (Matt. 13:31–32). He said the kingdom is like leaven that a woman took and worked through three measures of flour, till it was all leavened (Matt. 13:33). These aren’t pictures of a failed mission or a sudden escape. They are pictures of small, humble beginnings leading to unstoppable, pervasive growth. The leaven doesn’t fail to leaven the lump; it succeeds completely.

This vision of a victorious kingdom isn’t just in the parables. It’s the consistent promise of the prophets. Isaiah foretold of the Messiah: “Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end” (Isa. 9:7). This means His rule is ever-expanding. Habakkuk promised a day when “the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea” (Hab. 2:14). Waters don’t just cover a part of the sea; they dominate it entirely. This is a promise of comprehensive victory for the knowledge of God, not a temporary revival before a final defeat.

This is why the great theologian Jonathan Edwards, reflecting on Jesus’ words that “the gates of hell shall not prevail” against His church (Matt. 16:18), could write with such confidence: “The church of God is built upon a rock, so it will prevail, and the gates of hell will not overcome it.” We often miss the imagery: gates are defensive. They don’t march out to attack. This means it is the Church that is on the offensive, storming the very gates of hell with the gospel key that sets the captives free, and those gates will not be able to stand against the advance.

Mom, I share this with you because this truth has filled my heart with so much hope and purpose. The gospel is not a sinking ship waiting for a rescue mission. It is a kingdom—His kingdom—spreading slowly but surely through the world like a great tree or pervasive leaven, transforming lives, cultures, and nations from the inside out. We aren’t just holding the fort until Jesus comes back; we are advancing the fort, assured that one day, the knowledge of His glory will indeed cover the earth as the waters cover the sea. This is the confident hope we have in Christ.

With love,
Your son

Passages to read together:

• Isaiah 9:7
• Matthew 13:31–33
• Habakkuk 2:14
• Matthew 16:18