The everydev Slack
A room for leaders who ship
The new expression of development.
In the era of AI, the person with judgment and a keyboard is the whole team. Leverage replaced headcount, taste replaced typing, and the people living that shift are mostly doing it alone. This is the room where they compare notes.
Development changed. The job title didn't keep up.
You never stopped building
The title says founder, VP, director. You still open the editor at night, because the fastest way to know something is true is to build it. That used to be a guilty habit. It's now the job.
Leverage replaced headcount
A fleet of agents is a team you can run by yourself. The constraint isn't how many hands you have anymore — it's how good your direction is, and how fast you can tell working from almost-working.
Judgment became the craft
Anyone can generate code. Deciding what deserves to exist, reviewing what a model wrote, and owning it in production — that is the whole skill now, and it is the thing nobody can hand off.
What's actually in the Slack
A working room, not a content channel. You should leave it with something you can run tomorrow.
Working channels, not a feed
What people actually ran this week: the prompts, the harnesses, the configs, the diffs. Posted by the person who ran them.
Show & ship
Members put real work up for critique from people carrying the same weight. No demo-day theatre, no pitch decks.
Etienne in the room
I'm in there daily — the same practice I run for leadership teams, plus everything 7CTOs taught me about what a peer room has to be.
A high floor, on purpose
No vendors, no recruiters, no thought-leadership. Everyone came through the same door you're standing at, and answered the same two questions.
It's a room inside a working practice
everydev isn't a Slack with a paywall on it. The room is the community arm of a practice that ships: assessments engineers actually sit, searches that place technical leaders, testing that hiring teams run, and the advisory work I do inside leadership teams. Members sit next to all of it.
One membership buys one room. What makes it worth $49 is everything standing behind it.
Priced to keep the room honest
Enough that nobody lurks by accident, low enough that it never needs a business case. Approval comes first — you only pay once you're in.
The year is the real membership. A month costs what a month is worth, and a year costs about what 6 months of it would — because the room pays you back over quarters, not weekends.
Cancel any time; your seat stays until the period ends.
Monthly
$49/month
For staying a while. Cancel whenever, but the year is the deal.
Annual
$299/year
A full year for about what six months of monthly costs.
How you get in
Request an invite
Two questions: what you lead, and what you're building with AI. A few sentences each is plenty.
I read it myself
Every request, personally, usually within a day or two. If it's a fit, you get a link to claim your seat.
Claim your seat
Pick monthly or annual, pay, and I send your Slack invite by hand — so I know exactly who's walking in.
Ask for a seat
Tell me what you lead and what you're building. I read every request myself — this is the only bar, and it's the reason the room is worth being in.
Not sure you qualify? If you carry responsibility for people or a business and you still write code, you qualify.