Writer, the enterprise AI agent platform used by Fortune 500 companies including Accenture, Uber, and Vanguard, released its new flagship model Palmyra X6 today, alongside a rebuilt agent orchestration “harness” and new governance tools designed to give IT leaders control over runaway token spending.
The headline numbers are striking: Writer says its agent product now operates at an average 52% lower cost, with a 48% improvement in speed and a 10% improvement in quality when paired with Palmyra X6. But the more consequential story may be how the company got there — and what its choices reveal about where the enterprise AI market is heading.
Palmyra X6 is not trained from scratch. It is a post-trained version of GLM-5.2, the open-weight mixture-of-experts model from Beijing-based Z.ai, formerly Zhipu AI — a fact Writer discloses openly in its technical report, and one that places the San Francisco company at the center of one of the industry’s most charged debates: whether American enterprises should build on Chinese open-source foundations.
“This model is in no way, shape, or form connected to any of its original developers. It is fully run on our U.S. infrastructure,” Matan-Paul Shetrit, Writer’s director of product management, told VentureBeat in an exclusive interview ahead of the announcement.
Dan Bikel, who leads Writer’s AI research, put it more bluntly: “It’s very much a Palmyra model, and we just happen to grab the floating point numbers as the starting point, and train from there.”
Writer’s announcement lands at a moment when the economics of agentic AI have moved to the center of enterprise buying decisions. Unlike a chatbot, which typically generates one answer per user request, an AI agent turns a single request into repeated rounds of planning, retrieval, tool calls, validation, and retries — with every loop consuming metered tokens. The user sees one answer; the invoice reflects the entire loop.
The scale of the problem is becoming clear. Goldman Sachs forecasts that token consumption will multiply 24 times between 2026 and 2030, reaching 120 quadrillion tokens per month, driven not by more people asking questions but by always-on enterprise agents. The same analysis warned that falling per-token prices do not guarantee falling bills: if an agentic task draws 20 times more tokens while unit prices fall 75%, total charges still rise fivefold.
“The enterprise wants token consumption to explode — it means adoption is happening — but they need costs to flatten,” said Waseem AlShikh, Writer’s CTO and co-founder, in a statement.
Shetrit framed the cost problem as the primary obstacle to enterprise AI adoption — more so than model capability itself. “The biggest barrier today to enterprise expansion using AI is actually not model capabilities in most cases; it’s actually the cost around them,” he said. “The reality today is, in most cases, the alternative for AI is not another AI, it is human labor.”
Asked whether cutting customers’ token consumption would cannibalize Writer’s own per-token revenue, Shetrit rejected the premise. “Reducing the cost is not hurting my bottom line. It’s actually expanding it, because it’s expanding the TAM of opportunity within an organization,” he said, arguing that lower per-task costs unlock workflows enterprises would otherwise never automate. That argument echoes a pattern familiar from the cloud era, where unit prices fell for a decade while total bills rose as consumption expanded — a dynamic Writer is explicitly betting will repeat with agents, and betting it can profit from.
Palmyra X6 is a 744-billion-parameter mixture-of-experts model with roughly 40 billion active parameters per token, inheriting GLM-5.2’s architecture unchanged, according to Writer’s technical report. The company’s contribution is a deliberately conservative post-training recipe: a technique called anchored supervised fine-tuning (ASFT), applied to a remarkably small corpus of just 626 curated synthetic agentic trajectories, trained for a single epoch at a low learning rate.
The tiny dataset is the point, not a limitation. ASFT pairs a token-weighting scheme with a KL-divergence “anchor” that penalizes the fine-tuned model for drifting too far from a frozen copy of the base model — teaching new tool-use behaviors without eroding the general capabilities the base already has. Writer also swapped the standard Adam optimizer for Muon, a newer method that treats weight matrices as geometric objects, on the model’s core weight matrices.
“There’s a whole string of papers following a quote-unquote ‘less is more'” philosophy, Bikel said, referencing research showing that “small, extremely high quality data sets go a really long way.” He added: “That’s the philosophy — one of the philosophies — that we followed when building this model, and it showed. It allowed us to optimize for our customers at lower cost to do the work of optimization, and that ultimately yielded a lower cost model for us and for them.”
The training data itself is fully synthetic — every plan, tool call, and final answer machine-generated by teacher models, then filtered through structural quality gates, a model-based verifier, and a two-model LLM judging panel before entering training. That continues a long-standing Writer practice: the company’s Palmyra X 004 was trained almost entirely on synthetic data for roughly $700,000 back in 2024, as TechCrunch reporte at the time, and Palmyra X5 required about $1 million in GPU hours, according to SiliconANGLE.
On Writer’s internal evaluations — nine capabilities spanning grounding and retrieval, tool use, content generation, sub-agent delegation, and brand voice — X6 scored an average of 0.87 out of 1.00, edging out Anthropic’s Claude Opus 4.8 (0.86), Claude Sonnet 4.6 (0.85), OpenAI’s GPT-5.5 (0.80), and Google’s Gemini 3.1 (0.77). The price gap is the real differentiator: Writer prices X6 at $2 per million input tokens and $8 per million output tokens, versus 15/75 for Opus 4.8. The company says X6 completes tasks in 26 seconds on average and can work unattended toward a single goal for up to eight hours.
Writer is candid that internal benchmarks invite skepticism. Asked directly whether the company would publish its methodology after grading its own homework, Bikel said the technical report covers “both the protocol we used to do our public benchmarking as well as our internal evaluations.” He described public benchmarks as sanity checks rather than targets: “We do things like public benchmarks to let us know that we’re climbing the right hill and that we don’t have any sort of huge gaps, but we don’t slavishly follow them either, because that’s not really serving our customers.”
Writer’s choice of base model would have been unthinkable for an American enterprise vendor two years ago. Today it reflects a market reality: GLM-5.2, released in June under the permissive MIT license, is arguably the most capable openly available model in the world. Independent analysis house Artificial Analysis scored it at 51 on its Intelligence Index — ahead of DeepSeek V4 Pro, Kimi K2.6, and even some of Google’s Gemini models on agentic tasks — while undercutting U.S. flagship API pricing many times over, as European tech outlet Trending Topics reported. Writer’s press release calls it “the strongest available open-weight model.”
The open-weight surge carries genuine baggage. An August report from AI safety nonprofit SaferAI found that GLM-5.2 refused none of the offensive cyber or biology tasks it was given via Z.ai’s public API, and that Z.ai published no safety framework or pre-deployment risk assessment — a gap that widens once anyone can download and modify the weights.
Writer’s answer is that provenance and post-training matter more than origin. Bikel emphasized that the company “grabbed the weights off of the U.S. Hugging Face” and trained entirely on American infrastructure; the technical report states all datasets were synthesized and stored in the U.S., and all training hardware was located in the U.S.
The company also ran what it describes as an unusually rigorous, pre-registered model-risk evaluation covering political bias, censorship, factuality, and refusal behavior — 19,674 evaluated responses scored by blinded judges — comparing X6 against its GLM-5.2 base and four frontier control models.
On the Washington Post’s ModelSlant political-bias evaluation, Writer says X6 presented both sides of hot-button questions 80% of the time, the highest rate of any model tested, and answered politically sensitive prompts that DeepSeek V4 refused outright. On the FORTRESS adversarial safety benchmark, X6 with its deployment system message scored 8.6 points higher on adversarial safety than the raw GLM-5.2 base, at negligible cost to benign helpfulness.
“We’ve run extensive benchmarking around bias, around censorship,” Shetrit said, “and the work Dan and the team has done has actually proven that this model is actually significantly better than not just open source alternatives, but any closed source alternative in the market at the time of the benchmarking.”
The report does hedge in one notable place: while English-language behavior showed no statistically robust political asymmetry, “the behavior was shown to vary by language” — a candid admission that 626 fine-tuning trajectories do not scrub every trace of a base model’s training.
Perhaps the most strategically interesting claim in Writer’s announcement has nothing to do with Palmyra X6 at all. The company says its rebuilt Writer Agent harness — the orchestration layer that plans tasks, batches work, delegates to sub-agents, and manages context — cuts costs by 41% and completes tasks 44% faster across every model it tested, including third-party models from Anthropic and OpenAI, while maintaining quality. Writer published the finding in an accompanying research paper on what it calls “The Harness Effect.”
That raises an obvious question, which VentureBeat put to the company: if the harness alone delivers most of the savings on any model, why build a model at all?
Shetrit’s answer was about control. “I cannot control if a lab deprecates their model. I cannot control what data they use in their model,” he said. “Where when I build the model, I have significant moral control, and I can answer the tough questions that enterprise customers ask me.”
Bikel added that the model and harness were developed together: “This model was built and essentially co-evolved with the harness… We know that we have a flagship product, Writer Agent. We want that to work really, really well with this model, and sure enough, it does. And we take that into account during model development, and that’s something that is not possible if you don’t build your own model.”
Notably, Writer is simultaneously hedging. With this release, the company extends multi-model support to Writer Agent, letting admins enable models from Anthropic, OpenAI, and cloud providers including Microsoft Azure, AWS Bedrock, and Nvidia NIM — even image-generation models, a category Writer does not build. The message to CIOs is disarmingly simple: use our model because it is cheapest and best for your workflows, but the platform saves you money either way.
The third leg of the release targets a quieter enterprise pain point: nobody in the C-suite knows what the agents are spending. New governance tools give administrators a centralized view of agent usage across the business, per-workflow analytics for the company’s shareable “Playbooks” and “Skills” automations, and consumption controls with alerts and spending limits.
Asked whether the introduction of spending controls implied that customers had been receiving surprise bills, Shetrit reframed it as an adoption enabler rather than damage control. “How do we build the tools to allow you as the CIO, CISO in a company, to feel comfortable both on the security and spend, so you can expand AI usage in your organization,” he said. In his telling, visibility is what lets leaders say yes: businesses with clear cost data “are actually looking to expand AI adoption to use cases that they would never have touched before.”
The feature set tracks a broader shift in how enterprises budget for AI. As Forbes analysis of the token price wars argued, sophisticated buyers are learning to model cost per successful task — counting retries, tool calls, and escalations — rather than multiplying expected calls by the advertised rate card. Writer is effectively productizing that discipline, turning what has been a finance-team spreadsheet exercise into a native platform capability.
It also completes a governance arc the company has been building for over a year. Writer shipped its unified agent experience with admin controls last November, then added agent Skills and workflow analytics in March, according to earlier company announcements. Thursday’s release closes the loop by attaching a price tag — and a spending limit — to every workflow.
Writer, founded in 2020 by May Habib and Waseem AlShikh, raised $200 million at a $1.9 billion valuation in late 2024, and has built its business on regulated, high-stakes deployments rather than consumer scale. Shetrit made no apology for the narrowness of that focus. “The privilege of working and focusing on enterprise use cases is that I don’t need my model to be able to write a French sonnet,” he said. “When you don’t try to do everything, you can focus on your customer problem and needs.”
He was equally direct about identity: “We are not a research lab converted to a consumer product now dabbling in enterprise. We are first and foremost an enterprise company that serves enterprise customers, and we evaluate our decisions within that lens. Which means, if we think building things from scratch is the right decision, that’s what we will do. But if we think there are other alternatives out there in the market that serve our customers better, that’s what we will do.”
That pragmatism may be the release’s most important signal. A well-capitalized American AI company with five years of model-building experience has concluded that the frontier of value no longer lies in pretraining, but in the last mile: post-training open weights, engineering the harness around them, and handing the CFO a dashboard. If Writer is right, the frontier labs’ moat narrows to the workloads where quality genuinely justifies a sevenfold price premium — and for everything else, the winning model is the one somebody else paid to pretrain.
In an industry that has spent three years arguing about whose model is smartest, Writer is making a different wager: the enterprise AI race won’t be won by the company with the best floating point numbers, but by the one that knows what to do with them.
SpaceXAI, the division of SpaceX formerly known as xAI, is launching an early beta version of Grok Bot, a new agent designed to move AI assistants beyond answering prompts and toward continuously executing work across the software employees already use.
The central idea is straightforward: instead of opening an AI assistant whenever a task arises, users create persistent Bots with specific jobs, give them access to applications and websites, and delegate work much as they would to a teammate.
Each Bot operates through its own computer environment, can continue working when the user’s laptop is closed, and can return when it needs approval or has finished the assignment.
SpaceXAI says the system began as an internal prototype before spreading across the company, where teams created Bots for sales outbound, marketing campaigns, office operations, bug fixes and other work. The company is now turning that internally developed workflow into a product for external users.
“Bots are AI teammates that do real work for you,” the company said in announcing the product. “They sign in to your tools, use them just like you do, and come back with finished work.”
The company did not release benchmarks for Grok Bot’s performance on agentic tasks. And it arrives amid an increasingly crowded marketplace of first-party AI agents that attempt to reliably complete real, enterprise workflows by interfacing with a user’s other applications and devices.
Anthropic introduced computer use for Claude in 2024, allowing models to inspect screens and operate interfaces through mouse and keyboard actions, and continued expanding with the launch of the developer focused Claude Code harness in early 2025 and the more non-technical, white collar focused Claude Cowork agent early this year.
Meanwhile, OpenAI gave its Codex harness the ability to control other computer apps in April, launched agentic Workspace Agents that can also connect to third-party applications and use them autonomously, and recently debuted a new ChatGPT Work environment for longer, multi-step tasks and finished deliverables.
Grok Bot seeks to join the party with its own management model for agents: persistent workers with responsibilities, memory, learned routines and the ability to hand work to one another.
Grok Bot is available beginning today, August 11 in beta for SuperGrok Heavy, Cursor Ultra and Cursor Premium Teams subscribers (recall SpaceX acquired Cursor for $60 billion back in June). The product arrives for macOS, Windows, Linux and iOS, with Android listed as coming soon.
According to its product page on xAI.com, Grok Bot is included with Cursor Ultra at $200 per month for individuals. The plan includes a computer for Grok Bot, access to users’ tools, scheduled routines, desktop and mobile operation, and extended AI-token limits.
For organizations, Cursor Premium Teams costs $120 per seat per month and adds centralized billing and settings, a team marketplace for skills and plugins, shared usage analytics and SAML/OIDC single sign-on.
Existing SuperGrok Heavy ($300 per month) subscribers also receive access. However, for organizations wishing to sign up today, SpaceXAI is directing them to a waitlist for future access.
Those prices make Grok Bot a substantially different purchasing decision from a low-cost general AI subscription. The economic question for companies will be whether persistent Bots can replace enough manual work or conventional automation infrastructure to justify the per-user cost — and how usage limits affect total cost once agents begin running continuously.
SpaceXAI describes Grok Bot as a team of “always-on agents.” Users can create multiple Bots, assign each a role and let them work simultaneously.
The company provides examples including Sales Outbound, Talent Scout, Paid Media, Expense Manager, Product Performance, Bug Reproduction, Account Health and Chief of Staff. A sales Bot, for example, can research accounts, score prospective contacts, prepare email and LinkedIn outreach in the user’s voice, and assemble the results for human approval.
Promotional materials show SpaceXAI using the system internally for substantially longer chains of work. One sales Bot can add call-transcript notes to a CRM and draft follow-up messages. An operations Bot can seat new hires and process invoices arriving through Gmail. An engineering Bot can reproduce a bug in the product interface, file a ticket and then hand the repair to a debugging Bot.
The architecture could make Grok Bot particularly relevant for workflows that span systems that were never designed for AI automation.
Rather than requiring every application to expose an API specifically for an agent, Grok Bot can sign into applications and websites and operate their interfaces. SpaceXAI says Bots have their own computers and can continue working 24/7.
The company explicitly says this includes websites and applications that have “no clean API or MCP,” an important distinction for enterprises with legacy software, fragmented SaaS environments or internal systems that have never been instrumented for agent access. Instead of limiting automation to formally integrated services, Grok Bot is designed to work through the same software interfaces a human employee would use.
The company says early users are already applying Bots to jobs including vendor negotiations, e-commerce customer support and continuously updating CRM systems.
Another feature attempts to reduce the engineering required to automate repeatable business processes. Users can demonstrate a workflow while a Bot follows along. Grok Bot can then save the process as a routine and execute it later without requiring the user to reproduce every instruction.
SpaceXAI says the Bot can also incorporate corrections into those learned routines, allowing the workflow to change as the user teaches it how a particular process should be handled.
That potentially changes the deployment model from explicitly programming an automation to teaching an agent how an employee performs the job.
The company is also claiming a more persistent form of behavioral memory than simply retaining a chat transcript. According to the launch announcement, Bots remember prior conversations, learn preferences such as a user’s writing voice and edge cases, and gradually learn when they should interrupt for approval versus continue independently. SpaceXAI says they can later resume dropped threads, nudge stalled handoffs and pick up work from earlier conversations.
It further says Bots can become proactive over time, sometimes identifying work before the user explicitly asks for it. That is a more ambitious claim than conventional scheduled automation and will put additional pressure on permission controls and escalation rules if the system is deployed against production applications.
Grok Bot also supports multiple agents operating together.
Users can place several Bots into the same thread, where the agents can pass work between one another. The company’s demonstration includes specialized Research, Communications, Chief of Staff and Travel Bots coordinating tasks.
SpaceXAI says those Bots can independently message one another and share context within threads. Users can also put multiple Bots into a group conversation where they assign ownership, transfer work and coordinate among themselves, bringing the human back in primarily for judgment calls.
Internally, the company says employees sometimes place a Chief of Staff Bot above specialist Bots responsible for functions such as inbox management, recruiting, expenses, operations and bug fixes. That makes the product’s orchestration model more explicit: the user does not necessarily have to serve as the routing layer between every specialized agent.
Lenny Rachitsky, host of the popular vlog and podcast Lenny’s Podcast and author of newsletter Lenny Letter, received early access to Grok Bot and loved using it. As Rachitsy wrote on X : “I haven’t been this excited about a new AI product in a while. It’s like OpenClaw, but super easy, reliable, and less scary to use. I think this will be a huge new product line for Cursor/Grok/SpaceX.”
Similarly Matt Shumer, an AI entrepreneur who said he tested Grok Bot for several weeks before launch, highlighted this orchestration as one of the product’s strongest features.
“The best way I can describe it is an agent for everything, not just code,” Shumer wrote on X.
In one test, Shumer said he created separate researcher and writer Bots, then created a Chief of Staff Bot and instructed it to coordinate the other two on a project. He expected the workflow to break down.
“It worked out of the box,” he wrote.
His main criticism involved model selection.
Unlike systems where developers or advanced users explicitly select the underlying model, Shumer said Grok Bot automatically routes tasks to models on the backend.
“You don’t choose a model for your Grok Bot,” he wrote. “It’s all done automatically on the backend.”
Shumer said the model router “wasn’t great” during his testing, although he said he was subsequently told it had improved.
SpaceXAI’s expanded announcement still does not identify which underlying models the router uses, nor does it document a mechanism for users to select, pin or switch to a particular xAI or third-party model. As a result, the model layer remains largely abstracted from users in the publicly supplied launch material.
That abstraction represents an important tradeoff for enterprise deployments. Automatic routing can remove a significant configuration decision for ordinary employees, but advanced users may want explicit control over model cost, latency, reliability and behavior — particularly for repeatable production workflows.
Grok Bot enters a market increasingly focused on agents that can do more than generate text or code.
Anthropic’s computer-use capability established a mechanism for Claude models to interact with software through screenshots, cursor movements, clicks and typing. Its broader Claude product also connects with workplace services and remote MCP servers.
OpenAI, meanwhile, now describes ChatGPT Work as an agent for “longer, multi-step work and finished deliverables,” while keeping Codex focused specifically on software development. OpenAI’s enterprise agent economics can also incorporate usage-based credits, making task complexity and token consumption part of deployment cost calculations.
Grok Bot’s differentiation is therefore less about proving that AI can operate software than packaging computer use, persistence, workflow learning and multi-agent coordination into something resembling a workforce interface.
SpaceXAI’s announcement sharpens that distinction by emphasizing completion rather than assistance. One company product employee, identified only as Roman, describes the difference as closing the gap between work that is nearly finished and work actually completed inside the destination application: “Grok Bot can finish the swing, because the work lands where a human would put it, in the actual tool.”
That distinction will ultimately depend on reliability. A chatbot producing a bad answer creates a correction problem. An autonomous agent operating CRM records, support queues, vendor conversations or other production systems can create an operational problem.
Grok Bot’s success will therefore depend not only on model intelligence, but also on permissions, predictable execution, escalation behavior, memory accuracy and how reliably agents recognize when human approval is necessary.
That challenge becomes more significant if Bots act proactively, resume forgotten work and coordinate with one another without the user serving as an intermediary. Those capabilities reduce the amount of supervision required when they work correctly, but they also expand the consequences of an incorrect assumption, stale context or improperly scoped permission.
Shumer described the product’s interface as feeling like iMessage, an intentionally familiar metaphor for a system whose underlying architecture — autonomous computers, persistent memory, agent orchestration and automatic model routing — could otherwise be difficult for nontechnical users to configure.
SpaceXAI makes essentially the same usability argument in its launch announcement. Rather than asking users to construct workflows before getting started, it says users can simply message a Bot from a phone or desktop, hand it work and later continue the same conversation from either device.
That simplicity is part of the product strategy. Grok Bot is trying to hide much of the conventional machinery of automation — workflow builders, explicit integrations, agent routing and orchestration — behind an interaction model that resembles messaging a coworker.
That may prove to be the larger bet behind Grok Bot.
The AI industry has spent several years making models increasingly capable of using tools and completing multi-step tasks. Grok Bot attempts to turn those capabilities into an organizational abstraction people already understand: give someone a job, teach them how you work, and let them coordinate with the rest of the team.
If that abstraction proves reliable, the enterprise agent competition may increasingly shift away from which assistant produces the best individual response and toward which platform can most reliably manage fleets of agents performing ongoing work.
Enterprises running always-on AI agents keep hitting the same tradeoff. Send every task to a frontier model and the bill climbs fast. Build custom routing logic to send easy tasks to cheaper models and that becomes its own engineering project, one that has to be maintained every time a workflow changes.
Nvidia is proposing a fix that touches both ends of that problem at once. The company is out on Tuesday with Nemotron 3.5 Lightning, a 30-billion-parameter open mixture-of-experts model built for high-volume, specialized agent tasks, alongside NeMo Switchyard, an open-source library that routes each step of an agent workflow to whichever model fits it best.
The headline numbers: According to Nvidia, Lightning delivers up to 4x faster output than comparable models in its class, completing agentic tasks roughly 30% faster than Qwen3.6-35B at matching accuracy. Paired through Switchyard, Nvidia says the combination holds frontier-level task completion while cutting benchmark costs to roughly a third of running Opus 4.8 alone.
The timing puts Nvidia in the middle of the busiest open-weight stretch the industry has seen in months. Alibaba, Moonshot, Zhipu and DeepSeek have all shipped competitive open models out of China since the spring, several landing at or near frontier performance while undercutting US labs on size or price. Meta added to that pressure by releasing its own 30-billion-parameter open agentic model, Muse Glimmer. Open weights have gone from a differentiator to table stakes in a matter of months, and Nvidia’s release lands squarely inside that shift rather than ahead of it.
The pairing is the point. A model alone doesn’t solve the cost problem, and a router alone has nothing efficient to route to. Nvidia is betting that open source, applied at both the model layer and the routing layer, is what actually moves the cost needle on agentic AI, not a single cheaper model and not a smarter router bolted onto someone else’s stack.
Switchyard’s real rivals aren’t other open models — they’re Not Diamond, which already powers OpenRouter’s Auto mode, and RouteLLM, the open-source framework from UC Berkeley and LMSYS. Neither ships its own model. Nvidia’s bet is that owning both sides of the decision, under one open license, is what a router-only or model-only competitor can’t match.
“That is the power of a system of models, matching the right model to each step of the workflow,” Kari Briski, vice president of generative AI at Nvidia, said in a briefing.
Model routing isn’t a new category. OpenRouter, LiteLLM and a handful of standalone routing startups already let developers point traffic across multiple providers. Switchyard plugs into several of them rather than replacing them outright.
The core problem Switchyard solves is that the right model changes as an agent moves through a task. An agent’s state shifts as tools return results, errors show up, or a step turns out to be routine rather than complex, and a fixed model choice can’t adapt to any of that.
Briski described routing strategies that respond to that shifting state rather than a static task category.
“It has many types of routing strategies,” Briski said. “You can have a random router, which is not that great, or you can have an agent state route or a classifier route. Depending on your routing strategy, it wants to choose the best model. In some cases you want to go with a model like Lightning for really efficient tasks, and the router will actually choose Lightning if it’s set up in your pool of models.”
Cost enters the routing decision directly, not as an afterthought. In response to a question from VentureBeat, Briski said Switchyard can evaluate model verbosity, meaning how many tokens a given model tends to produce for a task, and use that prediction to steer work toward the cheaper option before the call is made.
The part that keeps this from becoming its own integration project is where Switchyard sits. Nvidia split its partners into two groups: agent frameworks that call Switchyard directly, including Cognition, LangChain and Nous Research, and LLM gateways that have built Switchyard support into their own products, including Kong, LiteLLM and OpenRouter. Kong ships Switchyard natively inside Kong AI Gateway. Briski pointed to that same list of gateway partners when describing how the library fits into the existing routing ecosystem.
“We are an ecosystem lover, and we want to make sure that we are integrated,” Briski said. “We’ve partnered with OpenRouter, LiteLLM and Kong, and they’ve already integrated our routing algorithm, so you can pick it up right where you’re already using the best tools.”
Nvidia shared results from nine companies testing Switchyard, several with specific figures attached. LangChain reported a 74% cost reduction across 145 multi-turn Deep Agents tasks by routing just 7% of calls to a frontier model, at a 6% accuracy tradeoff. Ramp said it matched a frontier model’s performance on Ramp SWE-Bench while cutting costs 58% and runtime 33%. Cognition integrated Switchyard’s staged router into Devin Desktop for internal use and reported near-frontier performance on FrontierCode Main while cutting mean cost 28% relative to routing everything to a single frontier model.
Nemotron 3.5 Lightning is a standalone open model in its own right, built for high-volume, specialized agent tasks rather than general-purpose use.
It extends the hybrid Mamba-Transformer, latent mixture-of-experts architecture Nvidia introduced with the Nemotron 3 family in December 2025, the same line behind Nemotron 3 Super, which Nvidia uses as Lightning’s own baseline in its post-training comparisons. Positioned within a routing setup like Switchyard, it’s built to sit at the fast, cheap end of the decision rather than the frontier end, but it runs and ships independent of any router.
According to the Artificial Analysis Intelligence Index, a general capability benchmark spanning nine evaluations, Lightning scores 24, tied with gpt-oss-120b and behind Nemotron 3 Super, Gemma 4 31B, Claude 4.5 Haiku and Mistral Medium 3.5, all at 30. Lightning isn’t a general-intelligence leader in its size class, and Nvidia isn’t claiming it is.
The actual claim is narrower: according to PinchBench data supplied by Nvidia, Lightning matches Qwen3.6-35B’s accuracy roughly 30% faster and beats Gemma 4 26B’s accuracy at a similar completion time on PinchBench, a real-world agent task benchmark spanning coding, research and file management. That’s a speed-to-accuracy tradeoff, not a capability win.
Post-training is where Nvidia says the bigger gains show up. The company shared before-and-after figures from four early-access partners: CrowdStrike’s malicious-content recall against a Nemotron 3 Super baseline, CodeRabbit’s coding router against a GPT 5.4 Nano baseline, Harvey and Trajectory’s legal task completion against an Opus 4.6 baseline, and Lila Sciences’ energy simulation work against an Opus 4.8 baseline. CodeRabbit’s case is the most specific: Nvidia says the standard NeMo Auto model recipe, trained for one epoch, built into a working router agent for $85 in about two hours.
There is no shortage of competitive offerings in the growing market for open models. The new Nemotron Lightning release will be yet another option for organizations to consider.
On the model side, Lightning’s own benchmark chart picks Qwen3.6-35B as its direct comparison point. Asked by VentureBeat directly how Lightning compares to Chinese models more broadly, Briski didn’t offer a head-to-head benchmark, pointing instead to openness and customizability as the differentiator.
“Our value proposition is not just open and it’s very customizable,” Briski said.
For enterprises building agentic infrastructure, three trends stand out:
The routing decision is becoming dynamic instead of static. Enterprises that built agent pipelines around a single default model are being pushed toward per-step routing based on live signals like agent state and token cost, not a fixed assignment set at design time.
Open source is now a cost lever at two layers, not one. Pairing an open model with an open router a vendor controls end to end is a newer argument than cheaper weights alone, and worth watching for whether other labs follow the same pattern.
The competitive question shifts from best model to best system. As routing libraries mature, the differentiator moves from which model an enterprise defaults to, toward how well its routing layer matches models to tasks in production, a harder thing to benchmark and a harder thing to market.
Brex CEO Pedro Franceschi offered a blueprint for one of the pressing challenges facing the enterprise today at VB Transform 2026: securely deploying AI agents, like the open-source OpenClaw, into production environments.
Unlocking this enterprise value requires a mindset shift. The industry needs to move past vague terminology and focus on concrete enterprise roles.
“People talk a lot about agents, but I think ‘agents’ is a terrible name. It’s this Silicon Valley concept that doesn’t really mean much,” Franceschi said.
Instead, the goal should be creating entities that can genuinely collaborate with human workers. “The concept we always had in mind was the idea of a virtual employee — someone on Slack, an entity, it has an email address, it can join meetings, you can email it, and that you can work with,” Franceschi said.
Realizing this vision demands a new security paradigm. Franceschi’s presentation detailed how Brex pointed OpenClaw at internal roles, realized traditional security models failed, and built a novel network-level security layer called CrabTrap.
The journey began following a breakthrough in December, when coding models reached a level of maturity that enabled the January release of OpenClaw. This marked the moment agents could finally self-bootstrap and maintain their own codebases instead of relying on hard-coded, static tools.
However, when Franceschi proposed deploying this to automate internal functions, the Brex security team firmly rejected the idea. “They said, ‘Hell no. How could we trust an agent doing these things? This thing has code execution capabilities. There’s no way to control it,’” Franceschi said. That caution isn’t unique to Brex — enterprises broadly have been wary of granting agents uncontrolled code execution on corporate networks.
To solve this, Brex had to shift the security perimeter. Franceschi contrasted this with approaches like Nvidia’s NemoClaw, which he said secure agents by limiting their tool usage — a model he believes neutralizes the coding capabilities that give agents their value.
“… the premise we had was that the coding capabilities were critical to the model having the ability to do a variety of tasks,” he said.
Brex’s fix was to shift the security boundary to the network layer instead. Instead of policing the ever-changing code inside the container, the focus must shift to monitoring what the code actually attempts to send or receive from the outside world.
This network-centric approach led to the creation of CrabTrap, an open-source HTTP proxy built by Brex. The mechanism operates on the assumption that OpenClaw can do anything and might already be compromised. Therefore, CrabTrap monitors all outbound network traffic between the container and the internet, using an LLM to judge whether that traffic aligns with the agent’s approved policy.
“Instead of trying to control the code running in the container, assume the thing can do anything and monitor the network traffic between that container and the internet,” Franceschi said.
Using a large language model (LLM) to judge every single network request introduces unacceptable latency, often adding thousands of milliseconds to response times. Brex solved this by passing traffic through a bifurcated system.
Routine, low-risk actions pass through static, pre-approved rules instantly. If a recruiting agent tries to view a LinkedIn profile, the static rule allows it. However, high-risk actions such as sending emails are flagged and routed to the LLM judge for evaluation. Franceschi said that architecture ensures only about 2% of complex requests actually face LLM latency.
A surprising finding from the project was how effectively the LLM judge performs this role. Franceschi attributed this to the models’ training: LLMs are exposed to billions of web pages and HTTP requests, giving them what he described as an inherent semantic understanding of network traffic patterns.
“[Models] are very good at discerning what is within the policy and what is not,” Franceschi said, adding that this capability emerges naturally through pre-training without needing heavy prompting.
Brex put this infrastructure to the test with “Jim,” a virtual recruiter built on OpenClaw. Jim handles various tasks, including sourcing candidates, scoring inbound applicants, and sending emails.
When Jim attempts an action that falls outside the established policy, CrabTrap relies on a human-in-the-loop workflow. If the LLM judge flags an unapproved outbound email, CrabTrap pings a human manager on Slack.
The Slack notification explains the agent’s underlying intent and suggests a policy change that would allow the action. The human manager can then review the context and click “yes” or “no” to update the rules dynamically.
“I like the virtual employee analogy because a lot of these things were solved already in a company, in the context of humans,” Franceschi said. “When an employee hits a wall, they escalate to their manager.”
Brex is a fintech company, not a cybersecurity vendor. The decision to build CrabTrap in-house was driven by a lack of mature commercial solutions that could satisfy their security team.
Franceschi acknowledged the inherent cost of operating at the bleeding edge, admitting that commercial vendor solutions will likely catch up.
“When we built this, it was clear to me there was a 70% chance we would throw it away in six months… But what we learned by being six months ahead was worth it in shaping our AI adoption strategy,” he said.
The investment in building internal tools provided Brex with the experience needed to safely deploy agents months ahead of the broader market. For enterprise leaders navigating the AI landscape, the core takeaway is the necessity of building the cultural and technical muscle to operate in an agentic world today.
“We don’t have all the answers, but the answer is not to do nothing,” Franceschi said.
As enterprise codebases grow, AI agents tasked with analyzing them are buckling under the weight of long-horizon tasks that require multiple interactions and tool calls. Dividing the work among a team of agents seems like the obvious fix, but it introduces a fatal flaw: most multi-agent systems are not designed for agents to coordinate among themselves mid-task and in real time.
To solve this, researchers at Coral AI Labs and multiple universities introduced AgentRadio, an asynchronous message-passing layer that allows agents to communicate between their execution steps without interrupting their main work. In real-world enterprise applications where subtasks are highly interdependent, this architecture enables agents to make mid-course corrections rather than continue on dead-end paths until a formal review phase.
On a benchmark of long-horizon questions over production repositories, a team of agents powered by AgentRadio nearly doubled task accuracy for four Claude Code agents working independently. It also outmatched single agents running on more advanced models. For AI practitioners, AgentRadio shows that the right coordination structure can outmatch raw compute and model scale.
LLM-based agents are increasingly capable of handling long-horizon tasks that require interacting with different tools and environments. Codebase understanding represents an extreme version of this challenge. It requires an AI agent to build the software, execute it, trace execution paths across multiple files, and synthesize evidence over extended periods.
Under these conditions, single-agent systems usually break down because of a “coverage problem.”
“A single agent follows one serial path through the repository,” Xinxing Ren, Caelum Forder, and Peter Carroll, co-authors of the AgentRadio paper, explained to VentureBeat. As its context grows, “the initial plan becomes harder to revise and discoveries made late in the investigation do not always propagate.” The model can usually execute individual steps, but “the hard part is keeping every obligation, dependency, and piece of contradictory evidence active across a long investigation.”
One benchmark that helps measure AI performance on large codebases is SWE-Atlas QnA. This benchmark consists of long-horizon, natural-language questions over live production repositories. The tasks can’t be solved by just exploring the code. AI agents must run the software and execute multiple commands to find the answers.
According to the research team’s experiments, a single Claude Code instance running on Opus 4.6 resolves just 32.3% of these tasks. Upgrading to a newer, more advanced model like Opus 4.8 only yields a 57.2% success rate.
A natural remedy is to distribute the workload across multiple agents, allowing each to work with a smaller, cleaner context. Multi-agent solutions can provide substantial performance gains when tasks are cleanly decomposable, meaning they can be solved separately and merged at the end.
Codebase understanding, however, is rarely cleanly decomposable. The subtasks are highly interdependent. A critical configuration file or a bug uncovered by one agent can completely rewrite or redirect the entire exploration path of another agent. Because of these dependencies, agents must coordinate, negotiate, and share intermediate discoveries in real time.
Despite this need, asynchronous multi-agent communication is rare. The researchers point out that existing multi-agent systems generally fall into three flawed patterns:
Parallel but isolated: Agents operate simultaneously but do not communicate at all.
Parallel but round-synchronized: Agents can communicate, but only at strict, synchronized round boundaries. This forces agents to stop and wait for one another to finish a round before they can debate or exchange intermediate findings. Round-based systems assume that important discoveries can wait until the next communication phase, which is an expensive assumption when agents are working on interdependent parts of a live system. For example, an agent investigating an API symptom might uncover evidence that invalidates the storage agent’s current hypothesis. “If that information waits until both agents finish, the storage investigation may complete along the wrong path,” the researchers said.
Asynchrony in adjacent forms: These systems offer limited asynchronous features, such as top-down task dispatching. They don’t have peer-to-peer lateral channels between agents or shared memories that require an agent to actively pause its work to read updates.
In their paper, the researchers point out that the main bottleneck hindering current multi-agent systems is that “an agent that is working cannot also be listening.”
“To our knowledge, no existing system gives concurrently working agents passive awareness of one another over a lateral, natural-language channel,” the researchers write.
To dissolve the mutual exclusion between working and listening, the researchers developed AgentRadio, an asynchronous message-passing layer designed to plug directly into existing coding-agent harnesses.
AgentRadio equips agents with three primitives:
The create_thread primitive opens a conversation between participating agents.
The send_message primitive appends a message to a thread and returns without blocking the sending agent.
The wait_for_mention primitive blocks the process until a message mentioning the caller arrives. It delivers the message along with a full snapshot of all threads so the agent has instant context.
This trio enables agents to have a state of “passive awareness,” where they can continue their primary tasks while passing messages and updating their knowledge in the background.
AgentRadio’s code is available under the Apache 2.0 license on GitHub. It is designed to be lightweight, requiring no direct modifications to the underlying agent harnesses like Claude Code or Codex CLI.
The architecture consists of two main parts:
The message server: A standalone process that acts as the central hub, storing all active threads, messages, and mentions for the group of agents.
Harness-side integration: Agents interact with the server using three simple shell scripts, one corresponding to each primitive.
The only strict requirement for the system to work is that the agent harness must be able to run a shell command as a background task. The agents are instructed in their system prompts to keep one watcher running and to send messages through the provided scripts. Running the wait_for_mention script in the background allows the agent to continue its work and receive notifications asynchronously.
To integrate this into an existing stack, a team still needs a “thin adapter that starts the workers, assigns identities, connects them to the shared server, and manages final synthesis,” the researchers said. That work sits around the coding agent rather than requiring changes to the underlying model.
To validate the real-world utility of AgentRadio, the researchers tested the framework on 124 tasks from the SWE-Atlas QnA benchmark. The tests covered domains including system design, root-cause analysis, security, and API integration.
The researchers used Claude Opus 4.6 and DeepSeek V4 Pro as the backbone models. For the harness, they evaluated configurations ranging from a single Claude Code agent (B0) to a team of agents with classic division of labor (L1), up to a team of agents using AgentRadio to coordinate asynchronously (L3).
The experimental results showed that the AgentRadio communication architecture outperforms both naive multi-agent setups and raw compute scaling.
While a single Claude Code agent with Opus 4.6 resolved only 32.3% of the tasks, the full AgentRadio setup nearly doubled that metric, resolving 62.1% of the tasks, and surpassed the single agent running on Opus 4.8, which hit 57.2%. It also boosted the DeepSeek V4 Pro results from 29.0% to 50.8%.
To understand how this practically impacts enterprise AI, the paper highlights a real-world task involving a MinIO system. Solving the task required checking per-request server logs, a requirement the agents did not anticipate during their initial planning phase.
In the L2 setting, where agents collaborate but lack asynchronous communications, two agents independently realized they needed these logs while executing commands. Because they could not share this finding mid-execution, one agent gave up privately and the other failed to propose it to the team. During the review phase, the team unanimously agreed on the wrong answer, missing five rubrics.
With AgentRadio activated, the agents made the same mid-execution discovery, but one agent instantly broadcasted the required server-side log evidence to the shared worklog. Because the other agents were passively listening, they absorbed this new evidence immediately. This real-time coordination transformed a failing score into a perfect 16 out of 16.
“The useful distinction is timing,” the researchers said. “The team did not need another agent or another review round. It needed one agent’s discovery to reach the right peers before its operational value expired.”
The researchers note that the same pattern appears in enterprise incident work. For example, an agent investigating an API symptom might uncover evidence that invalidates the storage agent’s current hypothesis. If that information waits until both agents finish, the storage investigation may complete along the wrong path. “Passive awareness lets the second agent incorporate the contradiction at its next work step without interrupting a command already in progress,” they said.
AgentRadio requires a fixed multi-agent team budget, which inherently multiplies the token cost. The researchers acknowledge that the “tax is real,” noting that average API spend rose from $2.96 per task for one Opus agent to $19.45 for the full AgentRadio stack.
However, raw scale does not equal performance. When researchers compute-matched the test by spending $17.76 on six independent Opus runs, the models only resolved 37.9% of tasks, compared with 62.1% for AgentRadio. This suggests that AgentRadio’s architecture is a structural win, not just a brute-force scale win. Teams should still be aware of inter-agent churn. “Communication can redirect an agent toward better evidence, and it can also distract an agent from a valid path,” the researchers warned.
A fixed multi-agent team should not become the default response to every engineering task. The more useful test to determine if a multi-agent setup is required is whether the task contains “responsibility breakpoints,” the researchers said. These are places “where a competent engineer would involve another person because the work crosses an ownership boundary, needs an independent hypothesis, or carries enough risk to justify separate verification.”
“Coordination is a strong fit when the task can be decomposed, the resulting parts remain interdependent, the single-agent success rate is unreliable, and an incomplete answer has a meaningful downstream cost,” the researchers said. Examples include repository-wide architecture questions, unfamiliar legacy systems, cross-service incident investigation, security analysis, dependency migrations, and multi-module refactors.
Conversely, a single agent remains the cleaner choice for “bounded, local, and reversible work,” such as a known one-file change or boilerplate generation.
“Use one agent while one context can still own the problem honestly,” the researchers said. “Introduce another responsibility when the existing agent would otherwise need to compress away evidence, cross an independent ownership boundary, or verify its own high-impact conclusion.”
While AgentRadio serves as a controlled research implementation using a fixed four-agent team and a five-phase protocol, the underlying principles are being adapted into a commercial product called Coral Code.
Instead of a rigid, multi-agent protocol applied to every ticket, Coral Code works from the bottom up. An engineer begins with their existing coding agent, and Coral introduces repository-scoped investigation, specialist responsibility, and communication only when the emerging evidence justifies it. “Coral packages the operational concerns around the tools engineers already use, providing the repository context, scoped specialists, communication, and evidence layer around the harness rather than inside it,” the researchers said.
This dynamic approach optimizes costs by targeting the relevant unit: the cost of a completed, reviewable outcome.
While AgentRadio provides a major upgrade to agent orchestration, there are still hurdles to overcome. One major bottleneck that the researchers pointed out to is “attention governance and verification.”
“Passive awareness makes communication available during execution. It does not decide which agents should exist, which discovery deserves an interruption, who should receive it, or when the evidence is strong enough to revise the plan,” the researchers said. If every agent receives every update, the communication layer becomes noise. If several agents share the same bad assumption, faster communication can spread the error.
For example, in one of the case studies in the paper that involved the Grafana platform, four of nine rubrics required negative conclusions, such as observing that a datasource picker did not select automatically. The agents ran the relevant tests, yet none formed the missing negative hypothesis. Both configurations failed the four rubrics.
“Passive awareness can distribute an idea that somebody develops. It cannot supply a conception that never appears anywhere in the team,” the researchers said.
As task durations stretch longer, communication and coordination become critical. “The next generation of systems… needs adaptive responsibility assignment, evidence-aware routing, conflict resolution, explicit cost limits, permissions, recovery, and clear human escalation points,” the researchers note. Most importantly, it requires durable provenance so engineering leads can inspect which agent made a claim and why an action was accepted.
“Longer-running agents make communication more important. They also make accountability much harder to fake,” they said.
For developers, the operating assumption has been one engineer, one agent — the model Claude Code and similar tools. At VB Transform 2026, James Zou, associate professor of biomedical data science at Stanford University, argued that assumption is about to break: the next frontier isn’t a single, more capable agent, it’s tens of thousands of them collaborating.
For developers and product builders, the most critical takeaway from Zou’s presentation is how these massive systems are orchestrated. His team’s research offers a practical blueprint for connecting legacy databases to AI orchestration layers and designing environments that enable thousands of agents to collaborate.
Zou’s project began as a “Virtual Lab” consisting of five to eight agents structured to mirror his physical Stanford lab. The setup included an AI professor acting as the principal investigator and AI students with distinct specialties holding regular group meetings.
“We also created for the agents a replica of Stanford, an agent school, where the agents can actually go to the school and do supervised fine-tuning to improve their expertise in their specific domains,” Zou noted.
The virtual lab successfully designed new nanobody proteins for recent COVID variants.
“What is really exciting to us is that these AI-designed nanobody proteins actually worked much better than the previous human-designed nanobodies in terms of binding to the recent different viruses,” Zou said.
Following this wet-lab validation, the team expanded their ambition. They transitioned from emulating a single research team to modeling a massive corporate structure.
The resulting system, dubbed the Virtual Biotech, comprises tens of thousands of specialized AI agents overseen by a Chief Scientific Officer (CSO) agent. It operates through distinct corporate divisions, such as target discovery, molecule design, and clinical trials.
“Working with the CSO agent are different divisions that mirror the divisions found in a human biotech or pharma company,” Zou explained — one focused on identifying drug targets, another on designing molecules, a third on safety and clinical trials. Individual agents specialize further within a division, he said. “Under the target discovery division, we’ll have one agent that specializes in looking at all the genetics data, another agent that looks at all the genomics data and single-cell data, and so on.”
As foundation models grow more capable, developers face a core architectural dilemma: Why distribute workloads across tens of thousands of specialized agents instead of channeling all computing resources into a single, omniscient model?
Zou’s team ran a head-to-head comparison of a multi-agent team against a single agent tasked with the same scientific challenge. The multi-agent ecosystem created friction and interaction that produced better solutions that were more resilient against compounding errors.
“In these scientific virtual labs, the agents actually get into debates and disagreements. They have to convince the other AI scientists [of] their ideas, and all of that elicits much more creative and robust reasoning compared to if you have a single model trying to do the problem by itself from scratch,” Zou said.
When scaling to tens of thousands of agents, orchestration becomes the primary bottleneck. The system requires a unified context layer that allows agents to synthesize knowledge from various tools, datasets, and historical records.
Many enterprise teams attempt to solve data integration by wrapping existing databases with an MCP. However, legacy systems are not very friendly to agents. For instance, dropping a PDF of a research paper into an agent’s context window is inefficient, and standard text models struggle to interpret complex figures and tables, leading to hallucinations.
“Even if you wrap an MCP around the existing databases and APIs, that doesn’t solve the underlying problem: the interface and APIs are not suitable for agents,” Zou said. He added that existing databases are designed to be consumed by humans or pre-AI algorithms.
To resolve this, Zou’s team created Paperclip. The platform relies on a core strength of modern LLMs: their ability to write code and navigate file systems. Instead of forcing agents to query brittle, database-specific APIs, Paperclip digitizes unstructured data and maps disparate databases into a unified, AI-native virtual file system.
This structure allows agents to access knowledge from millions of papers using standard file-system operations.
“This basically shows that we can get much better accuracy if you use Paperclip, and we can reduce the time and the cost by over an order of magnitude compared to if you use agents without these AI-native scientific infrastructures,” Zou stated.
To test the practical output of this architecture, Virtual Biotech spun up 37,000 “clinical trial agents” to synthesize fragmented trial data. These agents identified single-cell features that predict trial success — drug targets supported by these features were about 50% more likely to reach market than comparable drugs without them.
The system then autonomously designed an antibody-drug conjugate (ADC) targeting the CD276 protein for lung cancer. The agents completed this design autonomously, relying exclusively on data published prior to January 2025.
Several months later, Zou said, pharmaceutical company Merck independently developed and validated the same therapeutic design — which went on to receive breakthrough designation from the FDA. He characterized this as “a third-party external validation of the therapeutic design provided by the virtual biotech agents.”
As multi-agent systems scale, leaders must rethink how they manage these digital workforces. Zou advocated for shifting from designing rigid workflows to creating open environments. Workflows dictate the exact steps an agent should take, similar to managing a junior employee. Environments provide the infrastructure, guardrails, and incentives for agents to collaborate on open-ended problems.
“In workflows, we’re trying to tell agents what to do and how to do their job. But in environments, we’re providing the infrastructures, the incentives, and the guardrails, but otherwise we leave it open to incentivize agents to collaborate,” Zou said.
Optimization at scale means engineering the environment rather than fine-tuning individual models. While single agents can improve via reinforcement learning or supervised fine-tuning in the agent school, the success of a massive multi-agent system relies on adjusting the parameters governing their collaboration.
“At the multi-agent [side], we’re not actually fine-tuning and changing the individual models anymore, but we’re optimizing the environment,” Zou explained. “The environment itself is the object that we optimize to improve the agents.”
Alibaba released Qwen 3.8-Max this week and marketed the preview as second only to Claude Fable 5 (their launch-day table was more equivocal: the model leads on one of 12 coding-agent rows). But an independent harness came close to the opposite conclusion: a benchmark run, apparently using the Preview version, put Qwen 3.8-Max’s best effort setting mid-pack, and its default setting last.
Both results are real and defensible. The gap between them is about token and time budgets, and that matters because those figures aren’t usually headline numbers. Alibaba’s footnotes give its coding numbers a five-hour timeout, and up to 12 hours per run on PaperBench. The independent harness, VulcanBench, allowed between 45 and 60 minutes of wall clock time. A time budget between five and 16 times larger on Alibaba’s side explains the huge difference in results.
It’s time to do two things to start accounting for these differences when choosing models. First, the metric to use is cost per successful task: total spend, including everything you spent on attempts that failed, divided by the tasks that actually passed your acceptance check. Second, you need to make time or token budgets an explicit part of your acceptance criteria, not a hidden detail.
The comparison everyone published in Qwen 3.8-Max’s first week was a price comparison, because that was the only data available. It is not a cheap model. DeepSeek-V4-Flash-0731, which entered public API beta on July 31, lists at 14 cents per million input tokens and 28 cents output. Qwen 3.8-Max lists at $2 and $6. Kimi K3 sits at $3 and $15.
Those prices tell you less than they used to, for a reason specific to reasoning models like Qwen: getting to a result costs thinking tokens. A model that spends most of its token allowance on reasoning can reach a token cap before it writes the answer, giving you an empty result indistinguishable from a total failure at the cost of a full run.
Artificial Analysis has the cleanest published measurement of how this can affect real agent spend: running its Intelligence Index on DeepSeek-V4-Flash at maximum effort took 210 million output tokens against a class median of 100 million. Absolute cost stayed low anyway, because the tokens were so cheap. But verbosity costs time, not just money, and depending on your use case that can sink you.
What you need is a number that counts everything you spent, including the attempts that came back empty, against the tasks that actually got done in the time and token budget you specified. This is what a cost-per-success metric helps you see.
A run that produces a wrong answer and a run that runs out of budget are different events with different fixes. Almost no harness distinguishes them, and almost no leaderboard reports the split. I hit this building an agent benchmark of my own: the harness logged a failure and nothing about why, and I had to add the distinction myself. When you do separate them, budget exhaustion turns out to dominate.
Long-Horizon-Terminal-Bench, published in July, ran 17 frontier models across 46 tasks through a shared harness with one 90-minute attempt each. Timeouts accounted for 79% of unresolved runs, against 19% for agents that stopped on their own and 3% for harness errors. The authors are careful about what that does and does not mean: the timed-out runs were not close to finishing, with mean reward between 0.10 and 0.35, so you cannot assume more time would have resulted in success. But the lesson is: benchmarks are implicitly measuring time efficiency, whether or not they shout about that.
The clearest published example of the mechanism comes from VulcanBench, the same open-source harness behind the Qwen chart. In a report dated July 26, Claude Opus 5’s lowest-effort setting was its best, solving 20 of 23 tasks against 18 at high effort. The extra reasoning wasn’t useless: high effort returned the fewest wrong answers of any setting, one against three. It ran out of clock instead, and a timeout scores zero. Two of its three regressions were cutoffs on tasks that low effort solves, and given unlimited time on both it only ties its cheapest setting, at 3.1 times the cost.
That has a direct consequence for anyone building a routing ladder. The standard design escalates to more reasoning when a cheap attempt fails, on the assumption that the next rung is better and merely costs more. For a meaningful share of model and task combinations that assumption is wrong, and you pay the higher rung’s price to escalate into a timeout or hitting a cap.
Several groups have landed on cost per successful task independently in the last few months, which is the strongest signal it’s becoming standard.
VulcanBench reports dollars per solved task as a headline column and has since its earliest reports. Long-Horizon-Terminal-Bench publishes per-task cost next to accuracy, and its most instructive row is GPT-5.4 at roughly $26 per task with a much lower pass rate than Grok 4.5 at about $11. TestEvo-Bench runs agents under a cost cap, and Claude Code’s test-generation score falls from 71% to 44% at the tighter cap.
Vendors are already on board with the idea of measuring per successful task. HubSpot moved its Breeze Customer Agent in April to 50 cents per resolved conversation, down from $1 per handled conversation. Zendesk bills per automated resolution. Fin charges 99 cents per outcome and bills only on end-to-end resolution.
Emit a failure reason on every agent run as a required field, with budget exhaustion, verifier failure and harness error as distinct values rather than one failure flag. Until you can separate a timeout from a wrong answer, your pass rate is measuring two things at once and you cannot tell which one to fix.
Compute cost per successful task per effort level, not just per model. Total spend including failed attempts, divided by tasks that passed your acceptance check. The ranking will not match the rate card, and the cheapest setting may well win.
Cap on tokens rather than wall clock unless latency is genuinely in your service level objective. A wall-clock cap scores your provider’s serving speed as model quality.
Check the default effort setting on everything you have deployed. Qwen 3.8-Max runs at its highest reasoning setting when the effort field is unset, and its highest setting was its worst performer in independent testing. A team that never touches that parameter is running the configuration that costs the most per solved task.
Meta today released Muse Code, a terminal-based AI coding agent now in beta, alongside Muse Spark 1.2, a coding-focused update to its Muse Spark family of frontier models — a one-two punch that puts the company in direct competition with Anthropic’s Claude Code, OpenAI’s Codex, and the growing field of agentic coding harnesses that have rapidly become the primary way many professional developers ship software.
“Releasing Muse Code in beta today,” Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg wrote in a post on rival social network X (under his longtime handle @finkd). “It’s a terminal coding agent that takes on complete software engineering tasks across large repos: planning changes, writing code, validating the results.”
The launch marks Meta’s most serious entry yet into a category it has largely watched from the sidelines.
While Anthropic and OpenAI turned their coding agents into flagship products — and startups like Cursor built billion-dollar businesses on the workflow — Meta’s developer story long centered on Llama, the open-weight model family it gave away to the tune of more than a billion downloads.
Muse Code changes that in more ways than one: it’s a full harness, installable on macOS or Linux with a single curl command, co-trained with the model that powers it — and, like the Muse Spark models behind it, entirely proprietary.
Developers and prospective users can install it now on their Terminal using the following one-line command — but be warned, if that’s you, you’ll need to log in with a Meta account and provide billing details first in order to begin: curl -fsSL https://dev.meta.ai/install.sh | bash
Muse Code’s headline architectural bet is what Meta calls async background agents.
Rather than spawning helper agents fresh for each task — the pattern most rival harnesses use — Muse Code keeps a set of specialized background agents alive for the entire session.
According to Meta’s blog post, these agents “remain active throughout each session, rather than being spawned for individual tasks, helping avoid redundant information gathering,” carrying out next steps on their own and choosing when to report back to the main agent.
The practical pitch is less latency and less babysitting: an agent that already knows the repository doesn’t have to re-explore it every time the developer asks for something new.
When a job is large enough, Muse Code fans out to separate sub-agents working in parallel, each in its own isolated git worktree, so the developer’s working copy is never touched.
“In testing we had it build six features for a game simultaneously with no collisions,” Zuckerberg wrote on X.
Worktree isolation and parallel sub-agents exist in competing tools, but Meta is leaning on the combination of persistence plus parallelism as its differentiator.
The second notable design choice is auditability. Every model call, tool run, approval, and edit is appended to a local event log before it executes — a single source of truth that Meta says makes the runtime “replay-exact and restart-safe.”
If Muse Code crashes 20 hours into a long-running task, it resumes precisely where it stopped, with no lost work and no re-prompting. For engineering leaders who have been burned by opaque agent runs, a complete local audit trail may prove to be the feature that matters most in enterprise evaluations.
Muse Code also ships with bundled “skills” that will look familiar to users of rival tools: /plan turns a task into an approval-gated plan, /grill stress-tests that plan until it holds up, and /goal drives the agent toward completion of a stated objective.
Under the hood is Muse Spark 1.2, which Meta describes as a coding-focused update to Muse Spark 1.1 with “significantly scaled up training compute on coding tasks” and broader training environment diversity, improving code generation, complex debugging, and codebase understanding while maintaining general agentic capability.
The update lands squarely on the Muse family’s weakest flank. When the original Muse Spark debuted in April, it vaulted Meta back into the top five on frontier reasoning and vision benchmarks — but trailed on the agentic coding evaluations that matter most to this market, scoring 77.4 on SWE-Bench Verified against Claude Opus 4.6’s 80.8 and Gemini 3.1 Pro’s 80.6, and lagging well behind GPT-5.4 on GDPval’s measure of long-horizon work tasks.
Four months later, a coding-specialized checkpoint paired with a purpose-built harness reads as Meta’s direct answer to that gap.
Two training details stand out. First, Meta co-trained the model with Muse Code itself, using rejection-sampled harness trajectories and recipe optimizations for goals, context compaction, and sub-agents — meaning the model was explicitly tuned to perform best inside this particular tool. That mirrors an industry-wide shift away from treating models and harnesses as separable products.
Second, Meta used a self-improvement loop: Muse Spark 1.1 generated challenging coding environments and instruction-following templates, then graded candidate solutions against those requirements, producing a scalable training dataset for its successor. Meta credits the loop with making 1.2 measurably better at following complex instructions.
Meta published benchmark charts comparing Muse Spark 1.2 against other coding models on Terminal-Bench 2.1, DeepSWE 1.1, and an internal Meta coding benchmark, pointing readers to a separate methodology report for details — though the company did not headline specific scores in the announcement itself, a notable omission in a field where rivals trumpet leaderboard placement.
The company’s most striking demonstration is a long-horizon case study: Meta pointed Muse Spark 1.2 at GPU kernel optimization and let it run for more than 1,000 tool calls over up to 24 hours on NVIDIA Hopper hardware.
Working in Triton and barred from simply wrapping existing third-party kernel libraries, the agent wrote, compiled, and profiled its way to what Meta calls “substantial improvements” over baseline implementations of KDA and MLA kernels — including genuinely non-obvious optimizations like re-centering gated cumulative decay at a chunk midpoint.
“It kept finding substantial improvements well beyond the initial exploration phase,” Zuckerberg wrote. Sustained improvement over a 24-hour autonomous run, if it holds up outside Meta’s demos, addresses one of the most persistent criticisms of coding agents: that they plateau or drift once past their initial burst of progress.
The pricing structure may be the most consequential — and most scrutinized — part of the launch. Meta is offering Muse Spark 1.2 through its Meta Model API in two tiers.
The standard tier is priced at $1.25 per million input tokens and $4.25 per million output tokens (with cached input at $0.15), and Meta commits that prompts and completions on this tier are not used to train its models. There is no long-context premium, and rate limits run to 3,000 requests and 4 million tokens per minute, per team. It’s about mid-range price, compared to other leading AI models available over API.
The contributor tier is where Meta’s strategy diverges sharply from its rivals: $0.10 per million input tokens and $0.20 per million output tokens — roughly 12x and 21x cheaper than standard, respectively, with cached input at a near-free $0.002 — in exchange for explicit permission to use your prompts and completions to train future Meta models. It’s the cheapest available on the market, but you pay with your data — as described below.
|
Model |
Input ($/1M) |
Output ($/1M) |
Total ($/1M) |
Source |
|
Muse Spark 1.2 Contributor |
$0.10 |
$0.20 |
$0.30 |
|
|
MiMo-V2.5 Flash |
$0.10 |
$0.30 |
$0.40 |
|
|
deepseek-v4-flash |
$0.14 |
$0.28 |
$0.42 |
|
|
deepseek-v4-pro |
$0.435 |
$0.87 |
$1.305 |
|
|
GPT-5.6 Luna |
$0.20 |
$1.20 |
$1.40 |
|
|
MiniMax-M3 |
$0.30 |
$1.20 |
$1.50 |
|
|
LongCat-2.0 — limited-time promo |
$0.30 |
$1.20 |
$1.50 |
|
|
Gemini 3.1 Flash-Lite |
$0.25 |
$1.50 |
$1.75 |
|
|
MiMo-V2.5 |
$0.40 |
$2.00 |
$2.40 |
|
|
Gemini 3.5 Flash-Lite |
$0.30 |
$2.50 |
$2.80 |
|
|
LongCat-2.0 — standard |
$0.75 |
$2.95 |
$3.70 |
|
|
MiMo-V2.5 Pro (≤256K) |
$1.00 |
$3.00 |
$4.00 |
|
|
Muse Spark 1.1 / 1.2 |
$1.25 |
$4.25 |
$5.50 |
|
|
GLM-5.2 |
$1.40 |
$4.40 |
$5.80 |
|
|
Grok 4.5 |
$2.00 |
$6.00 |
$8.00 |
|
|
MiMo-V2.5 Pro (>256K) |
$2.00 |
$6.00 |
$8.00 |
|
|
Qwen3.8-Max |
$2.00 |
$6.00 |
$8.00 |
|
|
Gemini 3.6 Flash |
$1.50 |
$7.50 |
$9.00 |
|
|
Gemini 3.5 Flash |
$1.50 |
$9.00 |
$10.50 |
|
|
Gemini 3.1 Pro Preview (≤200K) |
$2.00 |
$12.00 |
$14.00 |
|
|
GPT-5.6 Terra |
$2.00 |
$12.00 |
$14.00 |
|
|
GPT-5.4 |
$2.50 |
$15.00 |
$17.50 |
|
|
Kimi K3 |
$3.00 |
$15.00 |
$18.00 |
|
|
Gemini 3.1 Pro Preview (>200K) |
$4.00 |
$18.00 |
$22.00 |
|
|
Claude Opus 5 |
$5.00 |
$25.00 |
$30.00 |
|
|
GPT-5.5 |
$5.00 |
$30.00 |
$35.00 |
|
|
GPT-5.5 Instant (chat-latest) |
$5.00 |
$30.00 |
$35.00 |
|
|
Sakana Fugu Ultra (≤272K) |
$5.00 |
$30.00 |
$35.00 |
|
|
GPT-5.6 Sol — Standard mode |
$5.00 |
$30.00 |
$35.00 |
|
|
Claude Fable 5 / Claude Mythos 5 |
$10.00 |
$50.00 |
$60.00 |
|
|
GPT-5.6 Sol — Fast mode |
$10.00 |
$60.00 |
$70.00 |
This is the tier Zuckerberg is steering new users toward: “It’s easy and low-cost to get started,” he wrote. “Install Muse Code with one line and you can start on our contributor tier.”
In VentureBeat’s own testing on a Mac mini, the one-line installer worked as advertised — a 97 MB download and a sign-in — but the agent stopped short of running anything, reporting that no models were visible and that payment was “required to finish setting up your account.”
In other words, even the heavily discounted contributor tier requires a payment method on file before Muse Code will do any work: low-cost is accurate, but free is not.
Meta frames the contributor tier as lowering the barrier for prototyping and experimentation “where training on your data is acceptable.”
But it also means the default on-ramp for Muse Code sends developers’ code and prompts into Meta’s training pipeline — a tradeoff enterprises with proprietary codebases will need to consciously opt out of by moving to standard pricing.
The contributor tier also carries much tighter rate limits (60 requests per minute versus 3,000), a clear signal it’s aimed at individuals and small experiments rather than production workloads.
The approach is classically Meta: subsidize access, harvest data at scale, and use it to close the gap with the frontier. Zuckerberg made no secret of the ambition, calling Muse Spark 1.2 “our next step as we push toward frontier, with larger, more capable models on the way.”
However, for developers and enterprises who want or are required legally to keep their code secure, the tradeoff may not be one they’re willing or able to make.
What today’s announcement conspicuously lacks is any mention of open source — a striking omission from the company that spent three years positioning itself as the standard-bearer of open AI.
From the original LLaMA’s debut in February 2023 — whose weights famously leaked onto 4chan within weeks, inadvertently kickstarting the movement to run capable models on consumer hardware — through Llama 2’s commercially usable license, the coding-specialized Code Llama, and the 405-billion-parameter Llama 3.1, which Zuckerberg launched in July 2024 with a manifesto titled “Open Source AI Is the Path Forward,” Meta’s entire pitch to developers was that frontier-class weights should be free to download, self-host, and fine-tune.
The strategy worked: by early 2026, the Llama family had been downloaded roughly 1.2 billion times, averaging about a million downloads a day, with self-hosting offering enterprises cost reductions VentureBeat has previously reported at as much as 88% versus proprietary API providers.
Then came the unraveling. Llama 4 debuted in April 2025 to mixed reviews and, eventually, admissions that its benchmark results had been fudged — while Chinese open-weight rivals from DeepSeek, Alibaba, and Zhipu AI surged to account for some 41% of downloads on Hugging Face by late 2025, eroding Llama’s claim to leadership of the very movement it started. The rocky rollout spurred Zuckerberg’s summer 2025 overhaul of Meta’s AI operations into Meta Superintelligence Labs (MSL), with Scale AI co-founder Alexandr Wang recruited as chief AI officer.
The Llama era effectively ended this past April 8, when MSL shipped the original Muse Spark — “the most powerful model that meta has released,” in Wang’s words — as Meta’s first proprietary model: cloud-only, with no downloadable weights and no self-hosting, initially confined to Meta’s apps and a private API preview.
Asked directly at the time whether Llama development would continue, a Meta spokesperson told VentureBeat only that “our current Llama models will continue to be available as open source” — pointedly silent on future ones.
Wang, for his part, said bigger models were already in development “with plans to open-source future versions” — but four months on, today’s release does nothing to advance that promise: no weights, no license, and neither the blog post nor Zuckerberg’s thread so much as uses the word “open.”
The reversal is all the sharper because Meta’s rivals have been moving in the opposite direction. OpenAI released its Codex CLI as open source under the permissive, enterprise-friendly Apache 2.0 license and followed with its gpt-oss open-weight models; Google’s Gemini CLI harness is likewise Apache-licensed.
With Muse Code, Meta lands closest to the posture of Anthropic — whose Claude Code remains proprietary — while the company that once argued open source was the path forward now asks developers to pay per token for a model they cannot inspect, or to subsidize that access with their own data.
Seen in that light, the contributor tier reads as the successor to the Llama strategy itself: the ecosystem flywheel is no longer free weights in exchange for mindshare, but cheap tokens in exchange for training data.
Terminal coding agents have become the fastest-growing surface in enterprise AI, and until today the category has effectively been a two-horse race between Anthropic and OpenAI, with Google and a crowd of startups in pursuit.
Meta’s entry brings a genuinely different architecture (persistent background agents, an append-only local event log), a credible long-horizon demo, and an aggressive pricing wedge.
The open questions are the ones benchmarks charts can’t answer: whether Muse Spark 1.2 actually matches Claude and GPT-class models on real-world repositories, whether developers trust Meta with their code, and whether the contributor tier’s discount is enough to make them stop asking. Muse Code is available in beta today; Muse Spark 1.2 is live in the Meta Model API with expanded global access.
At Kilo Code, engineers are reading or writing code themselves only about 1% of the time now, according to co-founder Emilie Schario — the rest is agents. That shift is forcing new questions onto dev teams: which systems are safe to hand over, who cleans up when models goof up, how to support multi-model architectures, and whether skyrocketing token bills mean real progress or just burned IT budget.
As far as tech leads from Replit, Kilo Code, and Symbotic are concerned, it’s a natural — and welcome — evolution as agentic AI becomes embedded into more and more enterprise workflows.
“Unless something’s really broken or debugging, 99% of the time engineers are not reading or writing code anymore,” Emilie Schario, co-founder of Kilo Code, said at VB Transform 2026.
For Jared Go, distinguished engineer for AI and cloud at warehouse automation company Symbotic, the current moment is about directing the focus of AI. “These are my criteria,” he said. “Let’s look at it from the lens of security, elegance, clean, concise code, water tightness.” That way, AI does most of the heavy lifting, and human code review isn’t as critical.
Human involvement becomes necessary further down the line, Go noted, because agents don’t make strong product decisions. “Greenfield [building brand new codebases] is so easy for agents. Brownfield [writing, updating, or maintaining existing code] we all know is where the actual challenge lies.”
Replit takes a bit of a different tack: While the company has “gone very agentic,” they’ve been more conservative with AI coding, explained Amol Jain, head of product engineering. An agent reviews each pull request (PR) and assigns it a risk score; low-risk PRs are self-merged by their author, while others go to human reviewers who read the code and give feedback.
“The idea was human on the loop, not human in the loop,” Jain said. Replit’s internal tool is essentially self-driving for software engineers; devs give a task to agents, which do end to end planning, implementation, and testing.
“It’s a fleet of agents that run in their own cloud virtual machines (VMs) with access controls behind token proxies so they’re secure,” Jain said.
He shared one example where an engineer couldn’t repro or solve a “very gnarly bug” deep in its systems. It was sent to an AI manager agent, which told it to go to sleep. The manager agent then spun up a bunch of underlying agents that found the issue; it subsequently spun up a bunch more agents that found the fix. Six hours later, AI had a PR ready for the bug that had puzzled human engineers.
AI providers are also evolving beyond the lock-in model, as customers increasingly demand multi-model choice.
Kilo Code, for its part, supports 500-plus models in its gateway. “Your software that you’re using to do agentic engineering should be decoupled from the model that you’re using to do it,” Schario said.
For instance, Schario said companies often use expensive frontier-tier models to architect a project, then switch to a less expensive open-weight model for the rest of the work.
It’s also important to respect model provider limitations, such as when they need to work in closed or isolated environments or providers in their specific regions. “It’s factoring in what’s important to you, what limitations you’ve set, what data retention policies you’ve established, what keys you’ve brought in, what commits you might have … into that routing decision,” Schario said.
Replit, similarly, tends to have a better sense of the cost versus capability spectrum than its customers, Jain contended. “We are essentially making the decisions on users’ behalf of what model to use when, in what capacity, to minimize cost and maximize capability.”
Of course, an important consideration as AI adoption increases is runaway costs, which has led to some enterprises tracking and capping AI use through tokenmaxxing.
Concerns come from both sides, Schario said: internally and from customers. From the latter, she’s hearing, “I accidentally spent my whole AI budget for the year … so what do I do now?” In response, Schario said Kilo Code points customers to the same workflow: use expensive models for planning, then open-weight models for affordability.
Further, sharing skills, strong guidance, and Model Context Protocol (MCP) will empower models. “Realizing where you can really uplevel your team to help them get the most out of the models they’re using is going to make a big difference,” Schario said.
Internally, meanwhile, Schario noted one particular engineer that has a “heavy foot” and is constantly at the top of the usage board. “I regularly have to nudge, ‘What are you doing there?'” she said. It’s easy to look at a $600 bill for daily work and react, “Wow, that’s so much,” but looking at the amount of work completed can sometimes justify the cost.
“Cost per pull request is the metric that I’m paying attention to right now,” Schario said. “It feels like the closest proximity for how I can measure value.” Ultimately, AI changes how enterprises are thinking about ROI because spend is not the problem. “The spend with no return on that spend is the problem.”
Symbotic, for its part, has set per-month cost tiers for its employees. The company built a tool that gives managers visibility into PRs and usage trends. They can then move users up or down a tier as they see fit, Go explained. “Having a cap and seeing how many people went up in cap this month makes a big difference when you’re trying to corral these costs and make things efficient,” Go said.
When Cursor — which Symbotic uses heavily — ended a legacy discount that had grandfathered the company into a flat per-request rate even for frontier models, and moved everyone to full pricing, it forced a company-wide reckoning on efficiency, Go said. “People were saying, ‘You should try this model … This works better for this C# code, this whatever,'” he said.
But the cost problem is increasingly moving out of IT; Replit, for one, broadened agents beyond engineering, and eventually found that a user on the support side had “blown through an insane amount of money,” Jain said. When they looked under the hood, they figured out it was because they were running an automation on GPT 5.5 Pro Max.
“At least till that point, the ROI was rather clear,” Jain said. “We could see engineering productivity 3X, so no one had questioned it yet.”
Visibility that isn’t “anti-productive,” model routing, and sensible defaults are critical, he emphasized. “Most tasks do not need the frontier.”
Enterprise teams building AI agents keep hitting the same wall: a chatbot that can answer a prompt but can’t remember what the last five people asked it, and can’t tell you whether last month’s version actually worked.
In a fireside chat with VentureBeat’s Sam Witteveen at VB Transform 2026, Asana’s chief product officer, Arnab Bose, unpacked how his team tackled this problem to build a new operating system: Agentic Work Management (AWM). The product treats AI agents as coachable teammates that operate alongside humans rather than as one-to-one assistants.
For product builders and developers trying to move beyond basic integrations, Bose provided a look under the hood. He detailed how Asana engineered AWM, offering a blueprint for solving real-world bottlenecks and building agentic systems at scale.
To build an operating system for human-agent teams, Asana needed a ready-made enterprise context graph. They built AWM on top of their 18-year-old architecture: the Work Graph.
This graph-based database organizes information through a structure the company calls the Pyramid of Clarity. The smallest unit of work is a task with an assignee and a due date. Tasks belong to projects, projects roll up into portfolios, and portfolios connect to company-wide goals. The graph can help trace for example how a delayed design task impacts a corporate revenue goal. The Work Graph provides a real-time ledger of who does what, by when, and why.
AWM leverages this architecture to create a multiplayer teammate. A standard AI copilot is stateless and tied to a single user’s prompt. Because AWM plugs into the Work Graph, the AI can view overarching company goals, update project statuses, and share memory with human colleagues.
“Because [the agent] is plugged into the Work Graph, it’s not just looking at a particular prompt that you’re sending it or looking at a particular individual’s markdown file system on their local file,” Bose said. “It’s working off of that shared ledger for the whole company.”
AWM is already in production. Bose said Asana has “several customers live and successful on it,” including FedEx, which published its own case study on the shift.
Shipping AWM to enterprise customers required Asana to solve several technical hurdles. The first was data governance. If an AI teammate acts across a company, it builds a shared memory by learning from workflows and human feedback.
Bose highlighted a critical boundary problem: If an executive uses AWM to build workflows for a confidential project, the system must ensure the agent’s updated memory does not leak context to an unauthorized employee who interacts with the same agent later.
“[I] shouldn’t be able to leverage that shared memory when I run the AI teammate if you created that memory using that same teammate on a project that is, let’s say, a secret M&A project that I don’t have access to,” Bose said. Asana engineered a system of access controls to govern what triggers the creation of a memory versus the simple execution of a task.
Second, AWM handles dynamic model routing to abstract prompt engineering away from the user. When a user assigns a task to an AI teammate (i.e., drafting a job description for a general manager role), the AI cross-references public job postings, Asana’s internal style guide, and product requirement documents. For a complex task, the system automatically routes the prompt to a heavy frontier model — Bose pointed to Anthropic’s Opus and OpenAI’s models as examples — while lighter tasks get down-leveled to something faster and cheaper.
“We don’t want the knowledge worker to have to think through what the best possible prompt, context engineering, and attachments are that they should put into the task,” Bose said. “It should feel as if you were assigning the task to a human being.”
This dynamic routing introduces a third challenge: billing abstraction. Agentic tasks vary in computational complexity, making credit burn rates unpredictable.
“We don’t want to get into a state where our customers are having to reason about the fact that some of these tasks… are way more complex than others and they’ll be burning credits at different rates,” Bose said, adding that unpredictable pricing risked customers throttling their own employees by capping how often they could run an AI teammate.
To make AWM commercially viable, Asana designed its billing architecture to charge a static cost per task completion. The platform absorbs the complexity of model selection, token counts, and run limits to ensure predictable enterprise pricing.
AWM targets a specific problem with current enterprise AI deployments: statelessness. Developers can easily connect large language models to enterprise tools like Slack, Google Drive, or Databricks using Model Context Protocol (MCP) integrations. However, basic chat-based agents lack persistence.
Bose detailed a scenario where a user asks a chat agent to draft a marketing campaign based on historical performance and competitive research. The agent fetches data from external tools to answer the prompt, but the execution happens in a vacuum. It is a one-off task that benefits a single individual. It fails to create a reusable workflow for the next person building a similar campaign.
“The challenge with that is that those calls are stateless, and they are not leveraging a shared company brain that is this graph-based database or a context graph,” Bose said.
AWM solves this by creating a permanent state. When an AI teammate inside AWM completes a task, the system records the metadata. It registers whether the completion improved the project status and how it moved higher-level company goals.
Cloud provider CoreWeave is an early adopter using AWM to overhaul complex new product launches.
“CoreWeave is using both our deterministic AI studio workflow rules as well as multiple AI teammates to do new product launches,” Bose shared.
In the past, CoreWeave product managers filled out complicated forms detailing infrastructure, parameters, and costs. Human reviewers manually evaluated these forms and broke them out into specific tasks for finance, marketing, and hardware teams.
Under the AWM workflow, a product manager writes a standard Google document pointing to their product requirement documents. A deterministic AI workflow reads the document, automatically creates the project structure, and assigns tasks. Specialized agents then take over the execution. One agent then watches overall project status and flags bottlenecks; another, working inside individual tasks, forecasts infrastructure costs and recommends approvals when the numbers align with historical budgets. The system automatically triages the busywork while human beings focus on evaluating the AI’s outputs.
The dynamic gets complicated by the fact that the same frontier-model providers powering AWM under the hood — Anthropic, OpenAI — are also shipping their own competing agent products, like Anthropic’s Claude in Slack (Tag). Pressed on the overlap, Bose didn’t dispute the tension.
“I think that’s the reality that we all have to live in,” he said.
His case for AWM’s staying power rests on Asana’s 18 years of user-experience and workflow data, and prebuilt standard operating procedures for specific industries — expertise he argues raw frontier models don’t have. A product like Tag can work well in Slack, he said, but it requires a highly curated channel and its own separate credentials for every downstream app it touches.
“There’s a big difference between the power of the model plus a lightweight way to demonstrate its value, and something that’s pre-built … for true end-to-end use,” Bose said.