By the time generative AI had threaded itself into the fabric of modern life, it barely felt novel. In classrooms across the country, teachers now deploy AI-driven lesson plans as effortlessly as they once relied on chalkboards. According to recent figures, 60 percent of educators have woven these tools into their daily routines, while nearly as many university instructors report similar practices. Students, ever attuned to efficiency, have followed suit: more than half now turn to AI to assist with their coursework.
The numbers tell a familiar story—one of technological inevitability. But behind the metrics is a more complex narrative, one that questions not just how we build, but why. It is in this quieter conversation that Mariia Kozak has found her life’s work.
Kozak is the founder of Code & Cakes, a consultancy with a name that feels almost deliberately unassuming. Yet beneath the gentle branding is a precise, disciplined ethos. Unlike many in the tech sector, Kozak is not seduced by the breathless chase of disruption. Instead, she is preoccupied with the architecture of systems: how they are built, whom they serve, and what happens when they fail.
Her philosophy was forged through personal experience. An immigrant to the United States, Kozak learned quickly how opaque systems could be—how access to opportunity often hinged on invisible rules and assumptions. This sensitivity to structure and exclusion would later inform her work at Level All, a New York-based edtech startup focused on making college access more than a platitude.
As one of the company’s earliest engineers, Kozak was tasked not with refining existing processes but with creating them from the ground up. She approached this challenge with characteristic clarity, helping to design a platform that placed students—not systems—at the center. Among her notable contributions was the Scholarship Finder, a tool designed to match high school students with opportunities tailored to their specific needs. It was a simple idea, executed with uncommon precision, and it worked. For thousands of students, previously inaccessible pathways began to open.
Yet Kozak’s ambitions extended beyond code. She found herself increasingly drawn to the human architecture of tech—the ways in which teams are built, cultures are formed, and individuals are empowered (or overlooked). This inclination led to the founding of Code & Cakes, a consultancy dedicated to helping startups assemble engineering teams with both technical excellence and psychological safety.
In an industry enamored with rapid growth, Kozak’s approach is almost radical in its patience. She rejects the false dichotomy between speed and care. “You can move fast without breaking people,” she often says, distilling what many consider a complex dilemma into a simple truth.
Her leadership philosophy favors discipline over inspiration. One of her guiding mantras—“Magic is just discipline in disguise”—reflects a craftsman’s view of innovation: less about sudden brilliance, more about the accumulation of deliberate, thoughtful effort. She frequently invokes Chuck Close’s maxim: “Inspiration is for amateurs.” For Kozak, showing up and doing the work is not a concession; it is the point.
At Code & Cakes, this ethos manifests in teams that are not merely productive but resilient. Junior engineers are given space to grow. Senior engineers are expected to mentor. The goal is not to assemble interchangeable parts but to cultivate communities of practice, where knowledge is shared and stability is prioritized over spectacle.
It is perhaps unsurprising, then, that Kozak’s clients are often those seeking to navigate AI’s potential without losing sight of their ethical compass. Startups aiming for responsible scaling. Educational firms committed to meaningful impact. Organizations that, like Kozak herself, are more interested in the integrity of their foundations than the flash of their façades.
Beneath the professional rigor lies a personal belief that has never left her. As a child, Kozak once heard a friend describe engineers as “modern-day wizards.” She has carried that image with her—not as an emblem of tech’s grandeur, but as a quiet reminder of its capacity to transform. Her vision of wizardry is not the dramatic spectacle of disruption, but the slow, deliberate practice of building systems that serve real people.
In an era where “move fast and break things” became both mantra and excuse, Kozak’s work offers a necessary counterpoint. She isn’t here to break things. She’s here to build ladders.
And perhaps that is what true innovation has always been.
