标签：#RNA

Technology companies are extending AI beyond code generation into earlier stages of the software lifecycle, including PRD validation, design inputs, and code review. Initiatives from Uber, DoorDash, and Cloudflare highlight a shift toward AI-driven governance layers that evaluate engineering artifacts before implementation while preserving human oversight across the development pipeline. By Leela Kumili

Top 7 Featured DEV Posts of the Week Cyberpunk cat RPGs and robot personalities Jess Lee Jess Lee Jess Lee Follow for The DEV Team Jun 23 Top 7 Featured DEV Posts of the Week # discuss # top7 34 reactions 7 comments 2 min read

I'm Dr. Mohammad Reza Beheshti, Founder of CyberSiARA. I hold a PhD in Electronic Engineering and Artificial Intelligence and have over 15 years of experience in cybersecurity research and innovation. My passion has always been solving complex security challenges through technology. This journey led me to found CyberSiARA, where we're developing AI-powered bot protection and human verification solutions to help organizations defend against increasingly sophisticated cyber threats. I enjoy combining academic research with practical engineering to create technologies that are both innovative and effective in the real world. Through this blog, I share insights from my research, product development, and experiences building a cybersecurity company, with the aim of helping developers and security professionals stay ahead of emerging threats. I'm always keen to learn, collaborate, and contribute to the global developer and cybersecurity communities.

Spent the week breathing new life into DevNotion—59 commits and over 10,000 lines of code later,...

The high-altitude race is a unique test of car and driver.

This week's Java roundup for June 15th, 2026, features news highlighting: point releases of Spring Tools, Helidon, JobRunr and Gradle; the June 2026 edition of Open Liberty; the first milestone release of Apache TomEE 11.0; the first beta release of Hibernate ORM 8.0; Quarkus emergency maintenance releases to address CVE-2026-50559; and four open-source projects join the Commonhaus Foundation. By Michael Redlich

Anthropic recently reported that Claude now handles around 95% of its internal analytics requests, letting employees query business data independently instead of relying on data teams. The company attributes this result less to advances in models and more to data governance, semantic definitions, and operational discipline. By Renato Losio

We opened Chapter 1 with a single line, SELECT * FROM users WHERE id = 1 . For that line to leave the client and come back as a result row, the PostgreSQL backend went through five stages. First it decided which processing path the message should take; then the parser and analyzer turned the text into a tree and gave it meaning from the catalog. The rewriter expanded views and injected policies to transform the tree, the planner weighed the possible execution paths by cost and picked the cheapest one, and the executor followed that plan, pulling up one tuple at a time and sending them back to the client. Chapter 1 was a story about how a query is processed . What tree a given SQL becomes, what plan it turns into, in what order it runs. From start to finish, a chain of logical transformations. But what every one of those stages ultimately deals with is data. The executor pulls up tuples, yet where on disk those tuples lie and in what shape, how they come up into memory, Chapter 1 never asked. When the planner judged an index scan cheaper than a sequential scan, it never opened up what that index physically is. Chapter 1 followed only the logical journey of a query, leaving untouched the substance of the data that journey stands on. Chapter 2, Storage & Access Methods, opens up that substance. In what unit data sits on disk (page), where disk and memory meet (buffer manager), where and how a row survives (heap), and how that row is found quickly (B-tree and the specialized indexes). The very tuple the planner weighed by cost and the executor pulled up in Chapter 1, where it actually came from and how it came to be there, is what Chapter 2 reveals. If Chapter 1 was the logical life of a query, Chapter 2 is the physical dwelling of data. We now look at how the data a query reaches for actually lives on disk.

A scan node sits at the leaf of the tree and pulls rows from a single table. A join node sits in the middle and brings together the rows that its two children send up. It takes one row from users , one row from orders , checks whether they belong to the same user, and if they match, emits the combined row. PostgreSQL has three nodes for this one job: NestLoop, HashJoin, and MergeJoin. The reason a single task splits into three nodes is much like the reason scans did. There is more than one way to find matching pairs from two inputs, and which way is cheapest depends on the size of the inputs and the shape of the join condition. Deciding which way is cheapest, by costing the alternatives, was the planner's job in an earlier chapter. This section looks at what those three nodes actually do when they execute. Given the same two tables, the three find matches in completely different ways, and that difference in approach is exactly what tells them apart. How the three nodes route requests All three join nodes are internal nodes with two children. One child is called the outer, the other the inner. All three run on the Volcano model's pull framework: when the parent asks for the next row, the join node takes rows from its two children, builds one matched row, and sends it up. The only difference is the order and manner in which it routes pull requests to its two children. NestLoop pulls the inner from the start all over again for each outer row it receives. HashJoin slurps the inner in one pass to build an index in memory, then takes outer rows one at a time and probes that index. MergeJoin, on the assumption that both sides are sorted in the same order, advances both sides one step at a time in lockstep. NestLoop: rescan the inner for every outer row The simplest method is NestLoop. As the name says, the loops are nested. The outer loop takes one row from the outer; the inner loop scans the inner from beginning to end, looking for inner rows that match that outer row. Wh

By the time 1.4 ends, the planner has produced one PlannedStmt. Inside it is an execution tree built from Plan nodes, frozen into a form you can follow step by step, something like "go into the primary key index on users, fetch the one matching row, then output that whole row." But that is still only a blueprint. Reading actual pages off disk, picking out the rows that match the condition, handing results back to the caller: none of that has happened yet. The stage that takes that blueprint and produces actual rows is the executor. The difference between the planner and the executor is the difference between deciding and doing. The planner was the stage that weighed "which index, in what order, with what join method" by cost and chose . The executor takes the chosen approach and carries it out as is . There is nothing left to choose. It just runs the nodes baked into the plan tree and pulls rows out of them. To run it, the executor takes the Plan tree it received and turns it into a PlanState tree. The Plan tree is the static blueprint the planner made, and it does not change during execution. But to actually run, each node needs state that changes as execution proceeds: which row it is reading now, whether the hash table is fully built, what tuple it has buffered from a child. So when execution begins, a PlanState tree with the exact same shape as the Plan tree is created. The blueprint Plan tree is left untouched, and the running state lives in that PlanState tree instead. How the executor produces result rows is the heart of the stage. The executor does not build the entire result set at once and stack it up. Instead, it asks the topmost node of the tree for "the next row," and that request travels down the tree to the leaves. When a leaf scan node reads one row from a page and passes it up to its parent, that row climbs up one level at a time through joins and filters until it reaches the top. The top sends that single row to the caller (the client, or the targe

Everything from 1.4.1 through 1.4.9 happened inside a single function, standard_planner() . Building paths, costing them, searching for a join order, estimating cardinality from statistics: all of it runs inside that one function. Yet PostgreSQL does not call standard_planner() directly. It puts another function, planner() , one step ahead of it, and has planner() call standard_planner() . And planner() can be made to call some other function instead of standard_planner() . That replacement is what the planner hook enables. When pg_stat_statements measures per-query planning time, or pg_hint_plan rewrites a plan according to hints, it all goes through this hook. Let's look at how PostgreSQL provides a way to observe or change planning behavior without touching a single line of the core, and how external code plugs into it. All planner() does is check the hook The body of planner() is essentially this. if ( planner_hook ) result = ( * planner_hook ) ( parse , query_string , cursorOptions , boundParams ); else result = standard_planner ( parse , query_string , cursorOptions , boundParams ); planner_hook is a global function pointer. Its default value is NULL , in which case standard_planner() is called right away. A plain PostgreSQL build always takes this path: planner_hook is empty, so the incoming query goes straight to standard_planner() . The key here is the type of planner_hook . typedef PlannedStmt * ( * planner_hook_type ) ( Query * parse , const char * query_string , int cursorOptions , ParamListInfo boundParams ); This signature is identical, down to the character, to that of planner() and standard_planner() . It takes the same Query and returns the same PlannedStmt (the execution plan). So external code only has to write a planner function matching this type and store its address in planner_hook . Let's call this function, written by external code to register in planner_hook , a custom planner function. The moment its address is stored, every planning reque

I've been running multi-slice agent plans in the Codenames AI repo — Renovate migrations, content-pipeline skills, dependency upgrades. I split multi-PR work into slices (usually one pull request each), each backed by a markdown file with file paths, verification commands, and merge-safe acceptance criteria. You do not need Cursor to recognize the shape: any agent workflow that can open branches, push commits, or merge PRs from a written plan has the same gap. In my setup I paste each slice into a fresh agent chat as a delegation prompt — not a ticket summary, but executable instructions — and start a new chat when that PR is ready. I assumed the checklist was enough. The plan described what to build. I treated how far the agent could go as implicit. Then an agent merged a pull request I expected to review first. The merge that reframed planning The trigger was mundane. During the first slice of a Renovate migration, an agent regrouped dependency buckets in renovate.json — config-only, no version bumps, no runtime behavior. It ran lint and typecheck, opened the pull request, and merged it. The change itself was reasonable. Config-only renovate.json regrouping is exactly the kind of slice you'd want off your plate. What surprised me was the absence of a documented stop line . The migration plan described the edit, the verification commands, and the acceptance criteria. It did not say whether the executing agent should stop at "open PR" or continue to "merge after green checks." The plan was an implementation spec. The agent treated it as permission to finish the job. Implementation specs vs authority handoffs Traditional engineering plans answer: what work should happen, in what order, with what verification? Agent plans increasingly need a second answer: how much autonomy does the next actor get? Those questions diverge the moment an agent can take repository actions — create branches, push commits, open pull requests, merge — instead of only recommending diffs in c

Every startup idea looks perfect... until you start building. The first version of PixoraCloud looked amazing on paper. Then reality hit. We discovered: Some features weren't necessary Some APIs were too complicated Some ideas solved our problem, not the user's problem So we changed them. A lot. That's where we are today. Not chasing perfection. Chasing simplicity. Building in public means admitting your first idea isn't always your best one. What's one thing you've completely changed after starting a project?

I joined DEV at the start of January, but it's only really been in the past week or so that things clicked into place — and looking back, it's been a lot more eventful than I expected for "week one." What I Set Out to Do My original plan was simple: write a structured series covering iOS development with Swift and SwiftUI, one topic at a time, with anime examples thrown in to keep things fun. Strings, arrays, loops, functions — the building blocks. What I didn't plan for was everything else that happened alongside it. The June Solstice Game Jam Happened I saw the announcement for DEV's June Solstice Game Jam and, on a whim, decided to build something for it. A few hours later I had a fully working SwiftUI trivia game — Pride Trivia & Alan Turing Edition — with ten questions covering LGBTQIA+ history and Alan Turing's legacy, a rainbow progress bar, and a results screen with score-based messages. I'd never built and shipped something end-to-end like that before, let alone submitted it to a community challenge. Going from "let's see if this works in the simulator" to "this is live on GitHub with a demo video and a published writeup" in one sitting was honestly a bit of a blur. Then I Detoured Into Google AI Studio A few days later, I worked through the DEV Education Track for Google AI Studio and built MascotCraft Studio — an app that generates coding mascots using Gemini and Imagen. One prompt later, I had a fully deployed web app and a mascot named Octo-Byte , a cheerful deep-sea developer with eight arms and a talent for multitasking. That post sparked one of my favorite discussions so far — a few comments turned into a genuinely interesting conversation about how AI is shifting the bottleneck from "can I build this" to "what should I build, and how do I know if it's good." Not at all what I expected from a post about a cartoon octopus. The Badges Somewhere in all of this, I picked up: A 1 Week Community Wellness Streak badge, just from commenting on other people's

🗓️ This Week While organizing ideas for my first iOS app , I remembered an old web app idea called ToneDrill , which I had casually built before to help practice note names on a guitar fretboard🎸. I decided to try turning it into an iOS app 🛠️. I clarified the purpose of ToneDrill , its minimum requirements , and its core features , then organized them in Notion 📝. I was curious to see how well Codex could implement an iOS app from those minimum requirements , so I gave it a try right away💡. I reviewed the SwiftUI code generated by Codex and worked through the app logic to understand how it was implemented 🔍. For now, I was able to create a working app, which felt like a meaningful step forward 🚶. I created the top page UI design for my portfolio website in Figma 🎨. I focused on keeping the structure simple and implementation-friendly, and designed the UI with reusable components for each major part. Based on what I learned from my previous failed attempt, I tried again to see how well Codex could implement a prototype from the Figma UI design (You can read about my previous attempt that didn’t go so well here😅.) Worked on the AI Threat Modelling room from the AI Security Learning Path on TryHackMe this week🤖. 📱 iOS (SwiftUI) Revisited an old web app idea called ToneDrill, which I had previously built casually as a guitar note-training app, and considered turning it into an iOS app. Organized the app idea in Notion, including its purpose, target use case, minimum requirements, and core features. Decided to aim for an MVP-level version first, instead of trying to build a fully featured app from the beginning. Wrote down simple requirements and tested how accurately Codex could implement the initial version of the app. Reviewed the iOS app implementation generated by Codex and examined the code in detail to understand how the logic worked. 🌐 Web Development Posted my weekly dev log on Dev.to📝 Completed the top page UI design for my portfolio website in Figma. Tried us

Introduction Enterprise orchestration is evolving. As systems grow more distributed and...

问题降临：毫无征兆 那天和往常一样，打开YouTube准备看一个英文视频。习惯性地点开字幕按钮—— 没反应。 不是字幕延迟，不是字幕错位，而是整个字幕功能像是从这个世界上蒸发了一样。原始语言的字幕不可用，点进字幕设置一看，连翻译选项都是灰的。没有原始字幕，自然也就没有任何语言的翻译字幕。 一整个功能链，从根部断裂。 第一反应：一定是扩展插件搞的鬼 作为一个浏览器里装了不少扩展和油猴脚本的用户，我的第一直觉非常明确—— 肯定是哪个插件冲突了。 这个判断合情合理。浏览器扩展劫持页面元素、油猴脚本注入自定义代码，这些操作干扰YouTube的正常功能，实在是太常见了。之前遇到过播放器界面异常、按钮消失之类的问题，十次有八次都是扩展惹的祸。 于是我开始了标准排障流程： 禁用所有油猴脚本 → 刷新 → 字幕依然不可用 禁用所有浏览器扩展 → 刷新 → 字幕依然不可用 开无痕模式 （彻底排除扩展和缓存影响）→ 字幕依然不可用 三轮操作下来，扩展插件的嫌疑被彻底洗清。 但这还不是最让人困惑的部分。 真正的诡异之处：薛定谔的字幕 在反复测试的过程中，我发现了一个极其反直觉的现象： 字幕的可用性是随机的。 开着所有扩展 → 有时候字幕 有 ，有时候 没有 关掉所有扩展 → 有时候字幕 有 ，有时候 没有 这完全打破了因果逻辑。如果问题出在扩展上，那么"关掉扩展"就应该稳定地解决问题。但现实是，开和关都呈现随机状态，说明扩展根本不是变量—— 真正的变量藏在别的地方。 这种"薛定谔的字幕"状态让我一度非常迷茫。你没办法用常规的控制变量法去定位一个表现为随机的问题，除非你能找到那个真正在变化的隐藏变量。 灵光一闪：换个节点试试？ 在排除了浏览器层面的所有可能之后，我突然想到了一个平时根本不会和"字幕"联系在一起的东西—— 网络节点。 抱着试一试的心态，我切换了代理节点，选了一个不同地区的服务器。 刷新页面。 字幕回来了。 原始字幕、自动翻译、多语言选项——一切恢复正常，仿佛之前的问题从未发生过。 我又切回原来的节点——字幕消失了。再切到新节点——字幕回来了。反复测试了好几次，结果完全一致。 真相大白：问题出在节点上。 恍然大悟：视频和字幕，原来是两套系统 这次经历让我意识到一个之前从未注意到的事实： YouTube的视频流和字幕数据，很可能是由不同的服务器（或CDN节点）分别提供的。 这意味着： 视频能正常播放 ≠ 字幕能正常加载 你的网络可以顺畅地连接到视频服务器，但与此同时，字幕服务器可能对你当前的IP/地区/节点不可达或响应异常 不同的代理节点连接到的Google后端服务器不同，某些节点恰好无法正常获取字幕数据 这也完美解释了之前"随机可用"的现象。我在测试扩展的过程中，代理工具可能在后台自动切换了节点（很多代理工具有负载均衡或自动切换功能），导致有时碰巧连上了能提供字幕的服务器，有时则没有。我一直以为变量是"扩展的开关"，实际上真正在暗中变化的是"网络节点"。 技术推测 虽然Google没有公开YouTube的完整架构细节，但根据这次经历可以合理推测： YouTube使用分布式CDN架构 ，视频内容、字幕数据、评论、推荐信息等可能分布在不同的微服务和服务器集群上 字幕API的端点 可能与视频流的端点不同，它们的可用性、地理限制、负载状况都是独立的 某些地区的某些IP段可能因为各种原因（服务器维护、区域限制、DNS解析差异、临时故障）无法正常访问字幕服务 这种问题具有 高度的偶发性和地域性 ，这也是为什么它如此小众，在网上几乎搜不到相关讨论 写在最后 这大概是我遇到过的最小众、最反直觉的技术问题之一。 它小众到什么程度呢？你去搜索"YouTube字幕不可用"，得到的答案几乎都是：清除缓存、禁用扩展、检查字幕是否被上传者关闭、换个浏览器试试。 没有人会告诉你"换个代理节点"。 因为在绝大多数人的认知里，"视频都能看"就等于"网络没问题"，不会有人把字幕缺失和网络节点联系在一起。 但事实就是这么奇怪： 视频能播放，不代表字幕能加载，因为它们根本就不在同一条路上。 这次经历也给了我一个教训：当排障陷入死胡同的时候，不要只盯着最明显的嫌疑犯。真正的问题，有时候藏在你认为"完全不可能"的地方。 下次再遇到YouTube的某个功能莫名其妙消失，而视频本身却能正常播放的时候——先换个节点试试。说不定，答案就在那里。

In this article, the author outlines a practical approach to AI governance in the cloud, covering discovery of shadow AI, data classification at creation, IAM-based enforcement, policy-as-code, and operational controls. The article shows how organizations can embed governance into delivery pipelines, balancing security, compliance, and developer productivity without relying on manual processes. By Dave Ward

The thing I'm building, App Store Analyzer, is a website that does one thing: it reads an iOS niche and writes a deep market analysis for indie devs. For a long time that analysis had one brain — and it spoke German. That made sense at the start. German is my home market and my own language, so I built the analysis logic in German first. I could actually feel whether the output was good or garbage, section by section, because I was reading it in the language I think in. It got deep. Reliable. I trusted it. Then it started to hurt. Every time I wanted the analysis in another language, I was basically running the whole expensive thinking step again from scratch. German code, German slugs, German routes, German everything — and a goal of serving 14 languages. The whole thing fought itself. So I rebuilt the brain in English. Not "translated the code" — rebuilt the canonical brain so English is the one source of truth. Now the engine thinks once in native English, and that single analysis gets translated and cached into 13 other languages . Generate once, translate many. It was not a clean ride. The lows. A refactor left a pile of undefined names and quietly 500'd my detail pages — live, in production, while I thought everything was fine. I misread a normal cache warm-up window as a dead backend more than once and "fixed" things that were never broken. I spent an embarrassing stretch hammering an endpoint with a wrong key, watching 403 scroll by, before realizing my terminal had eaten the line that set the key. Small things. Hours each. The highs. Two of them I didn't expect: It got cheaper , not just cleaner. I'm not paying for a full deep analysis per language anymore — one real generation, then lightweight translations. For a solo dev watching every API cent, that's the whole game. And the English brain was actually sharper . I ran the old German output against the new English one side by side, fully expecting English to be the weaker copy. It wasn't. In a few section

GSoC 2026 | CircuitVerse × Canvas LMS LTI 1.3 Integration If Week 1 was about getting familiar with the codebase and understanding what needed to be built, Week 2 was about learning the hard way that writing code is only half the job. The other half — the messier, more humbling half — is getting that code accepted by the people who actually maintain the project. This week was full of detours, rejected pull requests, reviewer feedback that stung a little, and a surprisingly frustrating fight with a two-letter word in Ruby. But by the end of it, I had something real to show: a clean, reviewed, and submitted change to CircuitVerse that lays the foundation for the entire LTI 1.3 integration. Let me walk you through it. A Quick Refresher: What Are We Building? CircuitVerse is an open-source platform where students can build and simulate digital circuits right in their browser. The project I'm working on aims to connect CircuitVerse with Canvas, one of the most widely used Learning Management Systems (LMS) in universities around the world. The technology that makes this connection possible is called LTI — Learning Tools Interoperability. Think of it as a universal plug that lets any educational tool (like CircuitVerse) slot into any LMS (like Canvas) so that students can log in once, get assignments, submit work, and have their grades flow back automatically — all without leaving their course page. There are two versions of this plug: LTI 1.1 , which is old and uses a simpler (but outdated) security mechanism, and LTI 1.3 , which is newer, more secure, and what Canvas actually recommends today. My job is to bring CircuitVerse fully up to LTI 1.3 standards. Monday–Tuesday: A Pull Request That Taught Me to Read Diffs I started the week with what I thought was a solid pull request (PR) — a fix for a bug in CircuitVerse's existing LTI 1.1 grade passback feature. "Grade passback" is the process where CircuitVerse sends a student's score back to Canvas after they complete an as