This all started last week. I took on a side job to modify the frontend of an old project for a client. The functionality wasn't complex—just tweaking the interaction logic of a few buttons. I figured it was simple, so why not just hand it to ChatGPT? Save myself from reading code line by line.
I described the requirements clearly, even specifying how to name variables. ChatGPT was cooperative and generated a large chunk of code in no time. I looked at it—structure was clear, comments were thorough, and it even added error handling. I was pleased, thinking this was solid, so I copied and pasted it into the project, saved, and refreshed the browser.
Guess what? The page went completely blank. The console was full of red errors, like a New Year celebration.
I quickly copied the error messages to ChatGPT, and it said, "Sorry, I missed an edge case," then made changes and sent another version. I pasted it back—no more blank screen, but the buttons didn't respond. I kept giving feedback, it kept fixing, and we went back and forth about seven or eight times. Each time, it fixed one bug but introduced two new ones. The most infuriating part was when it used a function that didn't even exist in my project, with a straight-faced comment saying, "Calling common method here."
I was ready to smash my keyboard. The client was pushing, saying it needed to go live that afternoon. I stared at the messy code on the screen—indentation was off, spaces and tabs mixed, brackets sometimes at the end of lines, sometimes at the start. The whole file looked like a cat had walked over it. I couldn't manually fix it because I couldn't even read it clearly.
Just as I was about to apologize to the client for a delay, I remembered an online tool I had bookmarked called "JS Formatter and Minifier." I thought, why not give it a shot? I threw the last version of ChatGPT's code into it and clicked "Format."
A miracle happened. The code that was all jumbled up instantly expanded, with each level clearly defined—proper line breaks and indentation. I could immediately see the problem: a loop's closing bracket was misplaced, causing the whole logic to go astray. There was also a variable name inconsistency—ChatGPT wrote userName but later called it username.
Honestly, I used to look down on such formatting tools, thinking they just tidy up the layout with no real technical merit. But that day I realized that when you're dealing with code you didn't write and that has logic issues, formatting is your magnifying glass. Once the code is expanded, all hidden errors come to light.
After that, I manually fixed those two errors, then used the tool to "minify" the code, reducing its size and improving load speed. I sent it to the client, and it passed on the first try.
This experience taught me a deep lesson. ChatGPT can indeed help you write code, but it's not a god—it can't see your project's context or test the runtime results. The code it gives you is essentially something that "looks like the right answer." If you dare to throw it directly into production, a crash is inevitable.
But I'm not saying you shouldn't use AI to write code—that would be too pretentious. My point is, you need a safety net. Now my workflow has changed: I let ChatGPT generate code, but no matter how confident it sounds, I always run it through a JS formatting tool first. After formatting, I can easily see if the logic is sound, which is ten times more efficient than reading code that's all squished together.
Moreover, this tool has an advantage—it doesn't require internet, so the code isn't uploaded to any server. For those doing side jobs or handling sensitive company code, that's a huge relief. I even use it now to check my own code. When I'm in a hurry and write sloppily, a quick format helps me spot missing commas or semicolons.
Now the client has given me a new project, and I'll still use ChatGPT for drafting, but I won't be led by the nose anymore. Format, check, fix, minify, deploy. After going through this process, I feel confident.
If you've also experienced AI code crashes, don't tough it out—try formatting the code first. Sometimes the truth is hidden in that mess of characters; you just need a clear pair of eyes to see it.