Verified and untouchable
The product stance behind the catalog: a part is verified, attested, versioned — and untouchable. The agent composes it, never rewrites it, and trust becomes the unit of reuse
A machinist doesn't re-cut a bolt because the drawing is nearby. He reaches into the bin, trusts the spec stamped on it, and moves on. That trust is the whole point. It's what lets one person build something larger than themselves.
Software for agents has had no such bin. So I've been hardening the stance behind the catalog this month, and it comes down to one word: untouchable.
A part earns its place by being verified — it passes a conformance contract, it carries an attestation of who built it and how it was checked, it's pinned to a version that never silently shifts under you. And then the agent doesn't get to improvise on it. It doesn't rewrite the auth flow because it has a slightly different opinion today. It composes the part. It sews the seams. The part itself stays sealed.
That word, untouchable, is where it gets hard. Every instinct in this field right now pushes the other way — toward generation, toward "the model can just produce it." Holding a line and saying no, this is fixed, you build around it, runs against the grain of a tool whose magic is that it makes everything fluid.
But fluid is exactly the problem. Trust can't be fluid. A foundation you can re-pour at will isn't a foundation.
So the unit of reuse stops being the snippet and becomes the trusted part — the thing you don't have to read, don't have to re-review, don't have to wonder about at three in the morning. You spend your judgment once, at verification, and bank it forever after.
Make the trusted thing un-editable, and you change what a person can attempt. That's the part I keep turning over: not how clever the agent is, but how much it's allowed to leave alone.