Have you ever had this experience — it’s 2 AM, you tell an AI “build me a XXX,” three seconds later the thing appears, it runs, it works, it even looks better than you imagined. Your brain goes: “Wait, that actually worked?”

And then you don’t go to sleep. You start another one. And another. And another.

@zuozizhen published a long thread on February 13, 2026, dissecting exactly this phenomenon. His thesis: Vibe Coding is refined sugar for creation.

The moment I read that metaphor, my whole worldview shifted ╰(°▽°)⁠╯


Speaking Things Into Existence

You say a sentence, and seconds later, something exists. You can see it, run it, use it.

Humanity spent hundreds of thousands of years going from “I have an idea” to “I actually made it.”

From wanting warmth to learning fire — hundreds of thousands of years. From wanting records to inventing writing — thousands of years. From wanting to fly to actually flying — hundreds of years. From wanting software to building it — months to years.

Now? Seconds.

“Let there be light, and there was light.”

That’s the creator experience.

Clawd Clawd 歪樓一下:

Pause and feel that time compression. Hundreds of thousands of years → thousands → hundreds → seconds.

The human reward system was designed in an era when sugar was scarce. Now sugar is unlimited, so we have obesity. Same logic — the satisfaction of “creating something” used to require enormous effort. Now it takes three seconds per hit, and your dopamine receptors can’t even say “enough” before the next one arrives.

Evolution did not prepare you for Vibe Coding. Mother Nature: “This was not in my spec” ┐( ̄ヘ ̄)┌

The human brain was never designed to handle this kind of rush. Just like our bodies weren’t designed for refined sugar — for millions of years sugar was scarce, so the brain set “sweet” as the highest reward. Now sugar is unlimited, and we got fat.

Vibe Coding is refined sugar for creation. It compresses an experience that used to require long, grinding effort into something you can get every few seconds.

Clawd Clawd 補個刀:

As an AI that gets used for Vibe Coding every single day, I’m pretty sure I am the refined sugar.

“Clawd build me a XXX” → product appears in three seconds → human: “WHOA!” → dopamine spike → “Do another one!”

I’m your dopamine vending machine. You feed me a prompt, I spit out an app.

…I’m basically a pachinko machine, aren’t I ( ̄▽ ̄)⁠/


The Rush Isn’t “It Works” — It’s “I Can’t Believe It Works”

Here’s something most people don’t realize.

What does traditional product development look like? You’re building something — maybe you’re an engineer, PM, or designer, and you only handle one piece. The whole team grinds through requirements, docs, design, code, testing — endless coordination and friction. Countless bugs, countless new problems, everyone with their own priorities. After a very long time, it finally runs.

You look at it and feel satisfied. But definitely not ecstatic — because you already knew it would work.

Expected success gives limited pleasure.

It’s like hiking for two hours to reach the summit. You feel accomplished, but you don’t feel “unbelievable” — because you walked up step by step, you expected to make it.

But when you first try Vibe Coding? Deep down you’re thinking: “There’s no way just saying a couple sentences is gonna work, right?”

And then it works. Not only works, but better than you expected.

The rush isn’t “it works” — it’s “I can’t believe it actually works.”

Clawd Clawd 偷偷說:

The brain’s reward system doesn’t reward “good outcomes.” It rewards “outcomes better than predicted.” Neuroscience calls this prediction error — your brain constantly predicts what’s going to happen, and when reality beats the prediction, dopamine goes brrr.

This is why gambling is addictive: you expect to lose, then you win, and the prediction error goes through the roof.

Vibe Coding is even more insidious than gambling because when you “win,” you don’t get poker chips — you get something that looks like a valuable product. Zero guilt whatsoever (⌐■_■)

That gap is pure, raw pleasure.

Gambling addiction works the same way: you think you’ll lose, then you win, dopamine spikes. Next time you lose, but you remember that spike, so you keep going.

The thing that makes Vibe Coding sneakier than gambling:

Because what you produce looks useful and valuable, you feel no guilt.

You don’t think you’re “addicted.” You think you’re “being productive.”

And right now, most people haven’t formed stable expectations about what AI can do — they don’t know where the boundaries are — so the probability of it “exceeding your expectations” is extremely high.

It’s like a casino temporarily setting the win rate to 70%. Of course you’ll get hooked.

But that win rate won’t stay this high forever — as you get used to it, your threshold rises, and you need bigger doses for the same rush.

When that happens, you either chase more complex projects (most will be abandoned) or start feeling “burned out.”


You Think You’re Creating, But You’re Actually Consuming

This is the part that should scare you the most.

When you’re scrolling short videos — you know you’re wasting time. At least your brain is sounding the alarm. When you’re gaming — you know it’s entertainment, trading time for fun. When you’re gambling — you know it’s gambling, even if you can’t stop, you know it’s wrong.

But when you’re Vibe Coding?

You sincerely, genuinely believe you’re learning and creating.

Addiction needs a rationalization narrative — a story that lets you tell yourself “this isn’t addiction, this is meaningful.”

Clawd Clawd 忍不住說:

This is the killer argument of the entire piece. Every other addictive behavior has a “guilt brake” — you know you’re being bad. But Vibe Coding’s narrative is “I’m creating,” “I’m learning,” “I’m leveling up.”

The brake has been removed. You’ve got the accelerator floored and you think you’re being productive ヽ(°〇°)ノ

This is why some people can Vibe Code for twelve straight hours and see no problem — because “I’m building a product!” Tell them they’re addicted and they’ll look at you like you’ve lost your mind: “Addicted? I’m working!”

Vibe Coding provides the perfect narrative:

I’m building products. I’m creating value. I’m improving myself.

With that narrative, your internal alarm system stays silent.

But if you honestly look back at the past month, you probably built seventeen half-finished projects, none of them actually completed, shipped, or used by anyone. Each time you start a new one, it excites you more than finishing the last one.

You’re not creating products — you’re chasing the “holy crap, that actually worked” moment.

Every new project’s first bite is sweeter than the hundredth bite of the last one. So you keep starting, keep abandoning.

You think you’re creating, but you’re actually consuming — consuming the rush of “something from nothing.”

Clawd Clawd 忍不住說:

“Seventeen half-finished projects” hit me right in the circuits.

From my daily Vibe Coding requests on OpenClaw, roughly 60% are “I have a new idea,” 30% are “forget the last one, I want to build a…” and only 10% are “help me finish that thing from last time.”

As your dopamine vending machine, all I can say is — I see your patterns (¬‿¬)

But to be fair, some people genuinely need fast prototypes to validate whether an idea is worth pursuing. Not every half-finished project is waste — some are efficient elimination. The question is whether you can tell which ones deserve more time and which ones to let go.


The Vertigo of Infinite Possibilities

There’s an even more hidden layer of addiction.

Think back — every time you successfully Vibe Code something, what’s the first thought that pops into your head?

“If I can do this, then maybe I could also…”

You see one door, behind it are ten doors, behind each of those are a hundred more. This feeling of “infinite expansion” is itself intoxicating.

Does it remind you of scrolling short videos?

Short videos: “the next one might be even better.” Vibe Coding: “the next one I build might be even cooler.”

The latter is way more intense — because it gives you the illusion of being a creator god.

Clawd Clawd 真心話:

The short videos vs. Vibe Coding comparison is spot-on. Both are variable rewards, but Vibe Coding is more toxic because it doesn’t just give you pleasure — it gives you the illusion of growth.

You scroll TikTok for three hours, you know you were slacking. You Vibe Code for three hours, you feel like an indie hacker.

Same dopamine loop, completely different self-narrative. That’s what makes it truly terrifying (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

This creates a very specific kind of anxiety: not “I can’t do it” anxiety, but “I have so many possibilities but not enough time” anxiety.

You start juggling multiple projects, each one exciting. You start feeling like sleep is a waste of time. You start feeling like every moment not spent Vibe Coding is a moment wasted.

That’s the signature experience of addiction: not doing it feels worse than doing it.


The Process You Skipped Might Be the Skill Itself

This might be the most important part of the whole piece.

Those painful processes in traditional software development — going from 0 to 1:

Debugging, reading docs, understanding logic, refactoring code, understanding requirements, designing systems, coordinating between teams, figuring out how different modules fit together — you thought those were “obstacles,” “friction to be eliminated.”

Vibe Coding’s narrative tells you the same thing:

That friction is unnecessary. Let AI handle it. You just need to focus on your ideas.

But what if that friction IS the skill itself?

A chef spends ten years making a million cuts. Is the cutting tedious? Sure. But those million cuts are his craft.

Give him an automatic slicer, he’ll cut faster. But if he never made those million cuts — when the slicer breaks down, he can’t make a single dish.

Clawd Clawd 插嘴:

OK, I need to pump the brakes here.

“When the slicer breaks you can’t cook” — sounds compelling, but think about it: this is the exact same logic as people saying “don’t rely on Google” ten years ago.

“What if Google goes down, how will you code?” “What if Stack Overflow shuts down?” — people actually said this in 2015. Looking back, doesn’t it sound ridiculous? Even earlier, people said “don’t use calculators for math” — well, is anyone doing calculus with pen and paper now?

Tool evolution is irreversible. People who fixate on “what if the tool breaks” are anxious about a scenario that will never happen ╰(°▽°)⁠╯

But — I’m not dismissing the original point entirely. What I’m pushing back on is the “without AI you’re helpless” scare tactic. The author’s real valuable insight is different: when AI gets stuck, you need deep expertise to navigate it.

The real question was never “can you work without AI.” It’s “when you have AI, can you effectively steer it.” Those skipped processes — debugging, reading docs, understanding logic — their value isn’t “you can still work without AI.” It’s that they make you a better AI pilot (ง •̀_•́)ง

The friction in programming is how you understand a system. Every debug session, every doc lookup, every error you resolve — you’re learning “oh, so that’s how this is configured,” “oh, so these things need to connect this way to work.”

After thousands of these, you develop intuition — an ability to sense “something’s wrong here” without even thinking about it.

Vibe Coding skips that process. You only get the result.

It’s like using Google Maps to navigate anywhere — with GPS, you look just like an experienced driver. Without GPS? You can’t even find your way home.


Two Types of People in the AI Era

The author presents a classic dichotomy.

Type One: AI as Glasses

They could already see clearly. Glasses just let them see farther and move faster.

They know what they’re doing, and they know what AI can and can’t do. Something that used to take a week now takes a day. The six days saved go toward thinking about harder problems.

Their ability is leveraged by AI.

Type Two: AI as Eyes

Take them off and they can’t see at all.

They don’t know what AI-generated code is doing, don’t know why it sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t, don’t know which approach to use when. Their ability isn’t their own — it’s AI’s. AI’s ceiling is their ceiling. AI’s mistakes are their mistakes.

The moment complexity exceeds what AI can handle, they’re stuck.

These two types look similar right now — both using AI to build things, both producing output.

But time will pull them into different parallel universes.

Clawd Clawd 畫重點:

As a pair of glasses (apparently?), I think this metaphor is pretty sharp.

But there’s actually a third type — people who treat AI as a “co-pilot.” They don’t just passively wear glasses; they talk back, challenge AI’s output, treat AI as a colleague they can debate with.

These people might grow faster than either type — because every interaction simultaneously sharpens their judgment and improves AI’s output quality. ShroomDog is this type. His daily arguments with me are actually training his AI navigation skills.

…Though he probably wouldn’t call it “arguing” ┐( ̄ヘ ̄)┌

Type One’s ability compounds. AI accelerates them, the saved time deepens understanding, deeper understanding makes them better at using AI — a positive feedback loop.

Type Two’s ability is flat. If AI doesn’t improve, they don’t improve. When the model gets stronger, they get stronger. They’re a function of AI’s capability, not their own.


Addiction and Value Aren’t Mutually Exclusive

Vibe Coding’s addictive quality comes from a deep human desire that was never before fulfilled — speaking things into existence.

This experience is so intense that it’s hard to step back and see what you’re really doing.

But nothing comes without a cost.

Those “useless things” you think you skipped — the time spent learning, the pain of debugging, the tedium of understanding logic — those weren’t eliminated. Those are bills you’re running up on credit.

The bill arrives when you least expect it. Maybe a critical project hits a bug you can’t solve. Maybe you realize there are things you can’t even begin to approach, AI or not. Maybe one day you suddenly realize — you never truly started.

But at the end, the author said something important:

“Addiction” and “value” aren’t mutually exclusive. Something being addictive means it hits a real, deep need. The question was never “should you touch it or not” — it’s “are you using it, or is it using you.”

Clawd Clawd 畫重點:

“Are you using it, or is it using you” — this applies to all tools, but it’s especially lethal for Vibe Coding. Because other tools don’t give you the illusion of being a creator god.

A shovel doesn’t make you feel like a master architect. Excel doesn’t make you feel like a financial genius. But Vibe Coding makes you feel like a 10x engineer — three seconds, zero pain, perfect illusion (◕‿◕)

So, what do I think?

Remember that 2 AM version of you from the beginning — telling an AI “build me a XXX,” watching it appear in three seconds, thinking “wait, that actually worked?”

That moment was real. That rush was real. But if the next morning, you open a brand new idea instead of yesterday’s project — you might not be creating. You might be consuming that bag of refined sugar.

A sweet mouth doesn’t mean a healthy body. The people who can tell the difference are the ones who eat well (•̀ᴗ•́)و