Where database blog posts get flame-broiled to perfection
Ah, yes, what a delightful and… aspirational little summary. It truly captures the spirit of these events, where the future is always bright, shiny, and just one seven-figure enterprise license away. I particularly admire the phrase "infrastructure of trust." It has such a sturdy, reassuring ring to it, doesn't it? It sounds like something that won't triple in price at our first renewal negotiation.
The promise of "unified data" is always my favorite part of the pitch. It’s a beautiful vision, like a Thomas Kinkade painting of a perfectly organized server farm. The salesperson paints a picture where all our disparate, messy data streams hold hands and sing kumbaya in their proprietary cloud. They conveniently forget to mention the cost of the choir director.
Let's do some quick, back-of-the-napkin math on that "unification" project, shall we?
So, this vendor's "trustworthy" $500k solution has a true first-year cost of $2.75 million. Their PowerPoint slide promised a 250% ROI. My math shows a 100% chance I'll be updating my résumé.
And the "real-time intelligence" pricing model is a masterclass in creative accounting. They don't charge for storage, oh no. They charge for "Data Processing Units," vCPU-seconds, and every time a query thinks about running. It’s like a taxi meter that charges you for the time you spend stuck in traffic, the weight of your luggage, and the audacity of breathing the driver's air.
...fintech’s future is built on unified data, real-time intelligence, and the infrastructure of trust.
This "infrastructure of trust" is the best part. It's the kind of trust you find in a Vegas casino. The house always wins. Once your data is neatly "unified" into their ecosystem, the exit doors vanish. Migrating out would cost twice as much as migrating in. It’s not an infrastructure of trust; it’s a beautifully architected cage with gold-plated bars. You check in, but you can never leave.
Honestly, it’s a beautiful vision they're selling. A future powered by buzzwords and funded by budgets that seem to have been calculated in a different currency. It’s all very exciting.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go review a vendor contract that has more hidden fees than a budget airline. The song remains the same, they just keep changing the name of the band.
Alright, team, gather ‘round for the latest gospel from the Church of Next-Gen Data Solutions. I’ve just finished reading this... inspiring piece on how to make our lives easier with MongoDB, and my eye has developed a permanent twitch. They’ve discovered a revolutionary new technique called “telling the database how to do its job.” I’m filled with the kind of joy one only feels at 3 AM while watching a data migration fail for the fifth time.
Here are just a few of my favorite takeaways from this blueprint for our next inevitable weekend-long incident.
First, we have the majestic know-it-all query planner that, after you painstakingly create the perfect index, decides to ignore it completely. It’s like paving a new six-lane highway and watching the GPS route all the traffic down a dirt path instead. But don’t worry, it’s not a bug, it’s a feature! We get the privilege of manually intervening with a hint. Because what every developer loves more than writing business logic is littering their code with brittle, database-specific directives that will absolutely, positively never be forgotten or become obsolete during the next “painless” upgrade.
I’m also thrilled by the concept of Covering Indexes, the database equivalent of putting a sticky note over a warning light on your car's dashboard. The solution to slow queries caused by fetching massive documents is… don’t fetch the massive documents! Groundbreaking. This is sold as a clever optimization, but it feels more like an admission that your data model is a monster you can no longer control. So now, instead of one source of truth, we have two: the actual document and the shadow-world of indexes we have to carefully curate, lest we summon the COLLSCAN demon.
Let’s talk about the solution to our willfully ignorant query planner: the hint. This is not a tool; it’s a promise of future suffering. I can see it now. Six months from today, a fresh-faced junior engineer, full of hope and a desire to “clean up the code,” will see { hint: { groupme: 1 } } and think, “What’s this magic comment doing here?” They’ll delete it. And at 2:17 AM on a Saturday, my phone will scream, and I’ll be staring at a PagerDuty alert telling me the main aggregation pipeline is timing out, all because we’re building our core performance on what is essentially a glorified code comment.
The most important factor is ensuring the index covers the fields used by the $group stage... you typically need to use a hint to force their use, even when there is no filter or sort.
Of course. It’s so simple. We just have to manually ensure every index for every aggregation query is perfectly crafted and then manually force the database to use it. This is not engineering; this is database whispering. It’s a dark art. This article is less of a technical guide and more of a page from a grimoire on how to appease angry machine spirits.
And the grand finale: we learn that under memory pressure—a totally hypothetical scenario that never happens in a real startup—the actual order of the keys in your index suddenly matters. So the thing that didn’t matter a second ago is now the only thing that matters when the server is on fire. Fantastic. We’ve replaced a predictable problem (“this query is slow”) with a much more exciting, context-dependent one (“this query is fast, except on Tuesdays during a full moon when the cache is cold and Jenkins is running a build”).
So, yes, I am thrilled to implement this. We’ll spend the next sprint sprinkling hints throughout the codebase like salt on a cursed battlefield. It will all work beautifully until the day our traffic doubles, every aggregation starts spilling to disk, and we realize the magical index order we chose is wrong. I’ll see you all at 4 AM for the post-mortem. There will be coffee and existential dread.
Alright, settle down, let me get my reading glasses. My good ones, not the ones with the tape on the bridge. Let's see what the bright young minds over at Elastic have cooked up now.
"Elastic Cloud Serverless pricing and packaging: Evolved for scale and simplicity."
Well, I'll be. Evolved. It's truly a marvel. You have to admire the ambition. It brings a tear to my eye. Back in my day, we didn't have "evolution," we had version numbers and a three-ring binder thick enough to stop a door. And we were grateful for it.
It says here they've created a system that "automatically and dynamically adapts to your workload's needs." Fascinating. It's like they've bottled magic. We used to have something similar. We called him "Gary," the night shift operator. When the batch job started chewing up too many cycles on the mainframe, Gary would get a red light on his console and he'd "dynamically adapt" by calling the on-call programmer at 3 AM to scream at him. Very responsive. Almost zero latency, depending on how close to the phone the programmer was sleeping.
And this whole "serverless" thing. What a concept. It’s a real triumph of marketing, this. Getting rid of the servers! I wish I'd thought of that. All those years I spent in freezing data centers, swapping out tape drives and checking blinking lights... turns out the answer was to just decide the servers don't exist. I suppose if you close your eyes, the CICS region isn't really on fire. I'm sure it's completely different from the time-sharing systems we had on the System/370, where you just paid for the CPU seconds you used. No, this is evolved. It has a better user interface, I'm sure.
"...focus on building applications without the operational overhead of managing infrastructure."
This is my favorite part. It’s heartwarming. They want to free the developers from "operational overhead." That's what we called "knowing how the machine actually works." It was a quaint idea, but we found it helpful when things, you know, broke. I guess now you just file a ticket and hope the person on the other end knows which cloud to yell at. It’s a simpler time.
They're very proud of their new pricing model. Pay for what you use. Groundbreaking. Reminds me of the MIPS pricing on our old IBM z/OS. You used a resource, you got a bill. The only difference is our bill was printed on green bar paper and delivered by a man in a cart, and it could be used as a down payment on a small house. This new way, you just get a notification on your phone that makes you want to throw it into a lake. Progress.
It's all so elastic and simple. You know, this reminds me of a feature we had in DB2 back in '85. The Resource Limit Facility. You could set governors on queries so they didn't run away and consume the whole machine. We didn't call it "serverless auto-scaling consumption-based resource management," of course. We called it "stopping Brenda from marketing from running SELECT * on the master customer table again." But I'm sure this is much more advanced. It probably uses AI.
I remember one time, around '92, a transaction log filled up and corrupted a whole volume. We had to go to the off-site facility—a literal salt mine in Kansas—to get the tape backup. The tape was brittle. The reader was finicky. It took 72 hours of coffee, profanity, and pure, uncut fear to restore that data. I see here they have "automated backups and high availability." That's nice. Takes all the sport out of it, if you ask me. Kids these days will never know the thrill of watching a 3420 reel-to-reel magnetic tape drive successfully read block 1 of a critical database. They'll never know what it is to truly live.
So, yes. This is all very impressive. A great article. They’ve really… evolved. They’ve taken all the core principles of mainframe computing from 40 years ago, wrapped them in a web UI, and called it the future. And you know what? Good for them. It’s a living.
Now if you'll excuse me, I think I have a COBOL program that needs a new PICTURE clause. Some things are just timeless.
Ah, yes. Another masterpiece of modern engineering. I have to commend the authors. Truly. It takes a special kind of optimistic bravery to write a blog post that so elegantly details how to build a perfectly precarious house of cards and call it a "solution."
My compliments to the chef for this recipe. You start with the delightful simplicity of a standalone, local setup. It’s a beautiful tutorial, really. Everything just works. The commands are clean, the YAML is crisp. It gives you that warm, fuzzy feeling, like you've really accomplished something. It's the "Hello, World!" of data loss, a gentle introduction before we get to the main event.
And what a main event it is! Moving this little science fair project into Kubernetes. Brilliant. I particularly admire the decision to add a self-hosted, stateful service—MinIO—as a critical dependency for restoring our other self-hosted, stateful service, PostgreSQL. What could possibly go wrong? It’s a bold strategy, replacing a globally-replicated, infinitely-scalable, managed object store that costs pennies with something that I now get to manage, patch, and troubleshoot. We've effectively created a backup system that requires its own backup system. Peak DevOps.
I can already see the sheer, unadulterated genius of this playing out. It will be a convoluted cascade of config-map catastrophes. I'm picturing it now: 3 AM on Labor Day weekend. The primary PostgreSQL instance has vaporized itself, as they sometimes do. No problem, I think, I’ll just follow this handy guide.
Pending state because the one node with the right affinity labels is down for maintenance.The prose here is just so confident. It whispers sweet nothings about S3 compatibility. “It’s just like S3,” it coos, “except for all the undocumented edge cases in the authentication API that will make your restore script fail with a cryptic XML error.”
configure and use MinIO as S3-compatible storage for managing PostgreSQL backups
That phrase, "S3-compatible," is my absolute favorite. I’ve heard it so many times. I have a whole collection of vendor stickers on my old laptop from "S3-compatible" solutions that no longer exist. I'm clearing a little space right between my beloved CoreOS and RethinkDB stickers for a MinIO one. You know, just in case.
Thanks for the article. I’ll be sure to read it again, illuminated by the cold, lonely glow of a terminal screen, while trying to explain to my boss why our "cost-effective" backup solution just ate the entire company.
Alright, settle down, kids, let The Relic here translate this latest dispatch from the land of artisanal, handcrafted code. I've read through this little "journey," and it smells like every other magic bean solution I've seen pitched since we were still worried about the Y2K bug corrupting our tape backups. You think you're clever, but all you've done is reinvent problems we solved thirty years ago.
Let's break down this masterpiece of modern engineering.
First off, your entire premise is that your programming language is so brilliantly complex it can't tell the difference between a function call and a less-than sign. Congratulations. Back in my day, we wrote COBOL on punch cards. If you misplaced a single period, the whole batch failed. We didn't call it "ambiguity"; we called it a mistake, fixed it, and re-ran the job. You've built a skyscraper on a foundation of quicksand and now you're selling tickets to watch it wobble. This isn't a feature to explore; it's a design flaw you've learned to call a personality quirk.
Your "absolutely crazy workaround" is the digital equivalent of building a Rube Goldberg machine to butter a piece of toast. You're overloading operators and metaprogramming a monstrosity just to avoid typing ten characters the compiler explicitly told you to type. We had a name for this kind of thing in the 80s: job security for consultants. You're not hacking the system; you're just writing unmaintainable code so you can feel clever. It’s like refusing to use a C-clamp because you want to prove you can hold two pieces of wood together with a complex system of levers, pulleys, and your own hubris.
And the cost of this "solution." Good heavens. You proudly state that your little trick will "sacrifice all your RAM" and "eventually the OOM killer" steps in. You killed the compiler process on a machine with 300 GIGABYTES OF RAM. I used to be responsible for a mainframe that ran an entire international bank's transaction system on 32 megabytes. We treated every byte of memory like it was gold, because it was. We'd spend a week optimizing a query to save a few kilobytes. You kids treat system resources like they're an infinite-refill soda fountain.
On my machine, this quickly leads to furious swapping of memory and eventually the OOM killer killing the compiler process... Don’t try this at home!
Don't try this at home? Son, you shouldn't try this at work, either. This is the kind of code that gets written, checked in on a Friday, and then pages me on a Sunday while I'm trying to watch the game because the production build server has melted into a pile of slag.
The grand finale of this whole saga is that you rediscovered fire. After your "journey into C++ template hell," your stunning conclusion is that the template keyword is, in fact, necessary to disambiguate the code. This is like setting your house on fire to appreciate the fire department. You didn't make a discovery; you just took the most expensive, time-consuming, and resource-intensive path back to the exact starting point the compiler documentation laid out for you. This whole exercise is a solution in search of a problem, and the only thing it produced was a blog post.
You didn't innovate. You wrote a long, complicated bug report and called it an adventure. We were doing dependent types in DB2 stored procedures back in '85, and guess what? The parser didn't get confused.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a backup tape that needs rotating, which is somehow still a more productive use of my time.
Well now, isn't this just a special kind of magical thinking. I've been wrangling data since your CEO was learning to use a fork, and let me tell you, I've seen this same pig get lipsticked a dozen times. Before I get back to my actually important job of making sure a 30-year-old COBOL batch job doesn't accidentally mail a check to a deceased person, let's break down this... pompous programmatic puffery.
You call it "AI-Powered Threat Hunting." Back in my day, we called it writing a halfway decent query. Artificial Intelligence? Son, in 1985 we were flagging anomalous transaction volumes on DB2 using nothing more than a few clever HAVING clauses and a pot of coffee strong enough to dissolve a spoon. We didn't need a "neural network"; we had a network of grumpy, experienced admins who actually understood the data. Your "AI" is just a CASE statement with a marketing budget.
This whole concept of "threat hunting" in the public sector is a real knee-slapper. You think your shiny new platform is ready for the government's data infrastructure? I've seen production systems that are still terrified of the Y2K bug. You're going to feed your algorithm data from a VSAM file on a mainframe that's been chugging along since the Reagan administration? Good luck. The only "threat" you'll find is a character-encoding error that brings your entire cloud-native containerized microservice to its knees.
You talk about proactive defense like it's a new invention. I once spent 36 hours straight in a freezing data center, sifting through log files printed on green-bar paper to find one bad actor who was trying to fudge inventory numbers. We didn't have your fancy dashboards; we had a ruler, a red pen, and the grim determination that only comes from knowing the tape backups might be corrupted. You're not hunting; you're just running a prettier grep command.
And let's talk about those backups. Your whole "AI" castle is built on the sand of assuming the data is available and clean. I've had to restore a critical database from a 9-track tape that had more physical errors than a punch card dropped down a flight of stairs. We had to physically clean the tape heads with alcohol and pray to the machine spirits. Your system is one bad Amazon S3 bucket policy away from oblivion, while our tried-and-true systems were built to survive a direct nuclear strike.
"Elevating public sector cyber defense..."
Elevating? You're just putting a web interface on principles we established decades ago with RACF and access control lists. This isn't a revolution; it's a rebranding. You've packaged old-school, diligent digital detective work into a slick SaaS product for managers who don't know the difference between a SQL injection and a saline injection. It's the same logic, just with more JSON and a bigger bill.
Anyway, it's been a real treat. I'm off to go check on a JCL job that's been running since Tuesday. Thanks for the chuckle, and I can cheerfully promise to never read this blog again.
Ah, marvelous. I've just finished reviewing a... what do the children call it? A 'blog post'... from a company named 'PlanetScale.' They proudly announce that after being "synonymous with quality, performance, and reliability," they've decided the next logical step is to offer... the exact opposite. It's a bold strategy. One might even call it an act of profound intellectual nihilism.
They declare, with a straight face I can only assume, that they are responding to requests for a tier "more accessible to builders on day 1." Builders. Not engineers. Not computer scientists. "Builders." As if they're constructing a birdhouse in their garage, not a system responsible for maintaining the integrity of actual information. And what is this revolutionary offering for these "builders"? A single node, non-HA mode.
My goodness. A single-node database. What a groundbreaking concept. It's so revolutionary, we were teaching the catastrophic downsides of it in undergraduate courses back in the 1980s. Clearly, they've never read Stonebraker's seminal work on Postgres, or they'd understand that the entire architecture was designed with robustness in mind, a concept they now market as an optional, premium feature. This isn't innovation; it's devolution. It's like an automotive company bragging about reintroducing the hand-crank starter for "builders who want a more accessible ignition experience."
And the most breathtaking claim, the pièce de résistance of this whole tragicomedy, is that one can do this:
...without having to add replicas or sacrifice durability.
Without sacrificing durability? On a single node? Have the laws of physics been suspended in their particular cloud? Does their single server exist in a pocket dimension immune to hardware failure, cosmic rays, and clumsy interns with rm -rf privileges? The 'D' in ACID, my dear "builders," stands for Durability. It is a guarantee that committed transactions will survive permanently. Tying that guarantee to a single, mortal piece of hardware isn't a feature; it's a liability sold as a convenience. It's a brazen violation of the very principles that separate a database from a glorified text file.
They speak of Brewer's CAP theorem as if it were a list of suggestions. "Consistency, Availability, Partition Tolerance... pick two, unless you're a marketing department, in which case you can apparently have all three, or in this case, a new secret option: pick none!" They've thrown Availability out the window for the low, low price of $5, yet whisper sweet nothings about durability. It's astonishing.
I see the typical corporate jargon peppered throughout this missive. Startups are "bullish on their company's future," experiencing "unexpected fast growth," and need to "grow to hyper scale." Hyper scale! A term so meaningless it could only have been conceived in a meeting where no one had read a single academic paper on scalability. They position themselves as the saviors, rescuing startups from "emergency migrations," when in fact, they are now actively selling the very ticking time bomb that causes those emergencies.
It is a perfect encapsulation of the modern industry. Why bother with the foundational truths established by Codd? Why trouble yourself with the rigorous mathematical proofs underpinning relational algebra or the physical constraints of distributed systems? Just slap a slick UI on a flawed premise, invent some meaningless metrics you call "Insights," and call it a "game changer."
This isn't a product announcement. It's a confession. A confession that they believe their customers are so fundamentally ignorant of computer science principles that they can be sold a single point of failure and be convinced it's a "more approachable" form of reliability.
I must say, it's been an illuminating read. I shall now go and wash my eyes. Rest assured, I have made a note to never, ever consult this company's blog for anything remotely resembling sound engineering advice again. Splendid.
Oh, this is just wonderful. Truly. Reading about the "2025–2026 Elastic Partner Awards" is the perfect way to start my day. It’s so reassuring to see the ecosystem celebrating synergy and customer value. As the guy who gets paged when that "value" translates to a cascading failure across three availability zones, this list of award-winners is less of a celebration and more of a threat assessment.
It truly warms my heart to see all this focus on partner excellence. I'm sure every single one of these partners has a beautiful slide deck explaining how their integration is completely seamless. It reminds me of that one "Global Partner of the Year" from a few years back who sold us on a new data ingestion pipeline. They assured us it would be a "frictionless, zero-downtime migration." And it was, technically. The old system went down frictionlessly, and the new system stayed down. Zero uptime is still a form of zero downtime, right? That migration had a predictable, award-winning lifecycle:
I’m especially excited to see the new "Emerging Technology Partner" award. I bet their solution is a marvel of modern engineering, a beautiful black box that "just works." And I'm sure the monitoring for it will be just as elegantly designed. You know, the kind where the only health check is a single 200 OK from a /health endpoint that’s completely disconnected from the actual application logic. It’s my favorite kind of mystery. You don’t find out it’s broken until customers start calling to ask why their search results are all from last Tuesday. It keeps you on your toes!
“These partners have demonstrated an outstanding commitment to customer success and innovation.”
I absolutely agree. Their commitment to "innovation" is what will have me innovating new ways to parse incomprehensible log files at 3 AM on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. I can see it now: the "award-winning" log enrichment service will have a memory leak that only manifests when processing a specific type of Cyrillic character, bringing the entire cluster to its knees. Their support line will route me to a very polite, but ultimately powerless, answering service in a time zone that has yet to be invented.
It’s fine, though. Every one of these new partnerships is an opportunity for me to grow my collection. I’ve already cleared a spot on my laptop lid for their sticker, right between my ones for CoreOS and RethinkDB. It’s my little memorial wall for "paradigm-shifting solutions" that shifted themselves right out of existence.
Anyway, this has been an incredibly motivating read. Thank you for publishing this honor roll of future root-cause analyses. I’m so inspired, in fact, that I'm going to go make sure I never accidentally click a link to this blog again. I've got enough reading material in my incident post-mortem folder to last a lifetime. Cheers.
Ah, another blog post. Let’s see what fresh compliance nightmare you’ve cooked up today under the guise of "innovation." You’re announcing an AI/ML-powered database monitoring tool. How wonderful. I've already found five reasons this will get your CISO fired.
Let's start with the star of the show: the "AI/ML-powered" magic box. What a fantastic, unauditable black box you've attached to the crown jewels. You're not monitoring for anomalies; you're creating them. I can't wait for the first attacker to realize they can poison your training data with carefully crafted queries, teaching your "AI" that a full table scan at 3 AM is perfectly normal behavior. How are you going to explain that during your SOC 2 audit? "Well, the algorithm has a certain... 'je ne sais quoi' that we can't really explain, but trust us, it's secure."
You’ve built the perfect backdoor and called it a “monitoring tool.” To do its job, this thing needs persistent, high-privilege access to the database. You've essentially created a single, brightly-painted key to the entire kingdom and left it under the doormat. When—not if—your monitoring service gets breached, the attackers won't have to bother with SQL injection on the application layer; they'll just log in through your tool and dump the entire production database. Every feature you add is just another port you've forgotten to close.
"It works for self-managed AND managed databases!" Oh, you mean it has to handle a chaotic mess of authentication methods? This is just marketing-speak for "we encourage terrible security practices." I can already smell the hardcoded IAM keys, the plaintext passwords in a forgotten .pgpass file, and the service accounts with SUPERUSER privileges because it was "easier for debugging." You’re not offering flexibility; you’re offering a sprawling, inconsistent attack surface that spans from on-premise data centers to misconfigured VPCs.
This isn't a monitoring tool; it's a glorified data exfiltration pipeline with a dashboard. Let me guess: for the "machine learning" to work, you need to ship query logs, performance metrics, and who knows what other sensitive metadata off to your cloud for "analysis."
We analyze your data to provide deep, actionable insights! That’s a fancy way of saying you're creating a secondary, aggregated copy of your customers' most sensitive operational data, making you a prime target for every threat actor on the planet. I hope your GDPR and CCPA paperwork is in order, because you've just built a privacy breach as a service.
Congratulations, you haven't built a monitoring tool; you've built a CVE generation engine. The tool that's supposed to detect malicious activity will be the source of the intrusion. The web dashboard will have a critical XSS vulnerability. The agent will have a remote code execution flaw. The "AI" itself will be the ultimate logic bomb. Your product won't be listed on Gartner; it'll be the subject of a Krebs on Security exposé titled "How an 'AI Monitoring Tool' Pwned 500 Companies."
Fantastic. I'll be sure to never read this blog again.
Alright, let's pull up a chair and talk about this... masterpiece of technical literature. I’ve seen more robust security planning in a public Wi-Fi hotspot's terms of service. You’re not just migrating data; you're engineering a future catastrophe, and you’ve been kind enough to publish the blueprint.
First, you trumpet the use of AWS DMS as if it's some magic wand. Let's call it what it is: a glorified data hose with god-mode privileges to both your legacy crown jewels and your shiny new database. You're giving a single, complex service the keys to everything. One misconfigured IAM role, one unpatched vulnerability in the replication instance, and you’re not just migrating data—you’re broadcasting it. It's a breach-in-a-box, a single point of failure so obvious you must have designed it on a whiteboard using a blindfold.
You're so obsessed with solving the puzzle of "reference partitioning" you've completely ignored the real problem: you're moving from a locked-down, enterprise-grade vault (Oracle) to the Wild West of PostgreSQL. Oh, but it's open-source! Fantastic. So now your attack surface isn't just one vendor; it's every single contributor to every extension you'll inevitably install to replicate some feature you miss. Each one is a potential CVE, a little Trojan horse you're welcoming in to "optimize costs."
I love the complete and utter absence of words like PII, GDPR, HIPAA, or SOC 2. You talk about tables and partitions, but not the data inside them. Where is the data classification? The tokenization strategy for sensitive columns? The verification that your IAM policies adhere to the principle of least privilege? You’re so focused on the plumbing that you forgot you're pumping raw sewage through the new house. I can already hear the auditors sharpening their pencils.
In this post, we show you how to migrate Oracle reference-partitioned tables...
And that’s all you show. This isn't a guide; it's a trap. You detail the how but not the what if. Where's the section on rollback procedures when the migration inevitably corrupts half your foreign keys? Where’s the detailed logging and monitoring strategy to detect anomalous data access during the migration? You’ve given a junior dev a loaded bazooka and told them to "just point it at the other database."
Finally, the entire premise is a security antipattern. The motivation is to "optimize database costs." That’s corporate-speak for "We are willing to accept an unquantifiable amount of risk to save a few bucks on licensing." You're trading a predictable, albeit high, cost for the unpredictable, and astronomically higher, cost of a full-scale data breach, complete with regulatory fines, customer lawsuits, and a stock price that looks like an EKG during a heart attack.
Enjoy the cost savings. I'll be saving my "I told you so" for your mandatory breach notification email.