Bryan Johnson is on a mission to not die. The 47-year-old multimillionaire has already applied his slogan “Don’t Die” to events, merchandise, and a Netflix documentary. Now he’s founding a Don’t Die religion. Johnson, who famously spends millions of dollars on scans, tests, supplements, and a lifestyle routine designed to slow or reverse the aging process, has enjoyed extensive media coverage, and a huge social media following. For many people, he has become the face of the longevity field. I sat down with Johnson at an event for people interested in longevity in Berkeley, California, in late April. We spoke on the sidelines after lunch (conference plastic-lidded container meal for me; what seemed to be a plastic-free, compostable box of chicken and vegetables for him), and he sat with an impeccable posture, his expression neutral.  Earlier that morning, Johnson, in worn trainers and the kind of hoodie that is almost certainly deceptively expensive, had told the audience about what he saw as the end of humanity. Specifically, he was worried about AI—that we face an “event horizon,” a point at which superintelligent AI escapes human understanding and control. He had come to Berkeley to persuade people who are interested in longevity to focus their efforts on AI.  It is this particular concern that ultimately underpins his Don’t Die mission. First, humans must embrace the Don’t Die ideology. Then we must ensure AI is aligned with preserving human existence. Were it not for AI, he says, he wouldn’t be doing any of his anti-death activities and regimens. “I am convinced that we are at an existential moment as a species,” says Johnson, who was raised Mormon but has since left the church. Solving aging will take decades, he says—we’ll survive that long only if we make sure that AI is aligned with human survival.  The following Q&A has been lightly edited for length and clarity. Why are you creating a new religion? We’re in this new phase where [because of advances in AI] we’re trying to reimagine what it means to be human. It requires imagination and creativity and open-mindedness, and that’s a big ask. Approaching that conversation as a community, or a lifestyle, doesn’t carry enough weight or power. Religions have proven, over the past several thousand years, to be the most efficacious form to organize human efforts. It’s just a tried-and-true methodology.  How do you go about founding a new religion? It’s a good question. If you look at historical [examples], Buddha went through his own self-exploratory process and came up with a framework. And Muhammad had a story. Jesus had an origin story … You might even say Satoshi [Nakamoto, the mysterious creator of bitcoin] is like [the founder of] a modern-day religion, [launched] with the white paper. Adam Smith launched capitalism with his book. The question is: What is a modern-day religion, and how does it convince? It’s an open question for me. I don’t know yet. Your goal is to align AI with Don’t Die—or, in other words, ensure that AI models prioritize and protect human life. How will you do that? I’m talking to a lot of AI researchers about this. Communities of AIs could be instilled with values of conflict resolution that do not end in the death of a human. Or an AI. Or the planet. Would you say that Don’t Die is “your” religion? No, I think it’s humanity’s religion. It’s different from other religions, which are very founder-centric. I think this is going to be decentralized, and it will be something that everybody can make their own. So there’s no God? We’re playing with the idea that the body is God. We’ve been experimenting with this format of a Don’t Die fam, where eight to 12 people get together on a weekly basis. It’s patterned off of other groups like Alcoholics Anonymous. We structure an opening ritual. We have a mantra. And then there’s a part where people apologize to their body for something they’ve done that has inflicted harm upon themselves.  It’s reframing our relationship to body and to mind. It is also a way for people to have deep friendships, to explore emotionally vulnerable topics, and to support each other in health practices. What we’re really trying to say is: Existence is the virtue. Existence is the objective. If someone believes in God, that’s fine. People can be Christian and do this; they can be Muslim and do this. Don’t Die is a “yes, and” to all groups. So it’s a different way of thinking about religion? Yeah. Right now, religion doesn’t hold the highest status in society. A lot of people look down on it in some way. I think as AI progresses, it’s going to create additional questions on who we are: What is our identity? What do we believe about our existence in the future? People are going to want some kind of framework that helps them make sense of the moment. So I think there’s going to be a shift toward religion in the coming years. People might say that [founding a religion now] is kind of a weird move, and that [religion] turns people off. But I think that’s fine. I think we’re ahead. Does the religion incorporate, or make reference to, AI in any way? Yeah. AI is going to be omnipresent. And this is why we’ve been contemplating “the body is God.” Over the past couple of years … I’ve been testing the hypothesis that if I get a whole bunch of data about my body, and I give it to an algorithm, and feed that algorithm updates with scientific evidence, then it would eventually do a better job than a doctor. So I gave myself over to an algorithm.  It really is in my best interest to let it tell me what to eat, tell me when to sleep and exercise, because it would do a better job of making me happy. Instead of my mind haphazardly deciding what it wants to eat based on how it feels in the moment, the body is elevated to a position of authority. AI is going to be omnipresent and built into our everyday activities. Just like it autocompletes our texts, it will be able to autocomplete our thoughts. Might some people interpret that as AI being God? Potentially. I would be hesitant to try to define [someone else’s] God. The thing we want to align upon is that none of us want to die right now. We’re attempting to make Don’t Die the world’s most influential ideology in the next 18 months.

This is today’s edition of The Download, our weekday newsletter that provides a daily dose of what’s going on in the world of technology. A senior State Department official demanded records of communications with journalists, European officials, and Trump critics A previously unreported document distributed by senior US State Department official Darren Beattie reveals a sweeping effort to uncover all communications between the staff of a small government office focused on online disinformation and a lengthy list of public and private figures—many of whom are longtime targets of the political right. The document, originally shared in person with roughly a dozen State Department employees in early March, requested staff emails and other records with or about a host of individuals and organizations that track or write about foreign disinformation—including Atlantic journalist Anne Applebaum, former US cybersecurity official Christopher Krebs, and the Stanford Internet Observatory—or have criticized President Donald Trump and his allies, such as the conservative anti-Trump commentator Bill Kristol.  The broad requests for unredacted information felt like a “witch hunt,” one official says—one that could put the privacy and security of numerous individuals and organizations at risk. Read the full story. —Eileen Guo The US has approved CRISPR pigs for food Most pigs in the US are confined to factory farms where they can be afflicted by a nasty respiratory virus that kills piglets. The illness is called porcine reproductive and respiratory syndrome, or PRRS. A few years ago, a British company called Genus set out to design pigs immune to this germ using CRISPR gene editing. Not only did they succeed, but its pigs are now poised to enter the food chain following approval of the animals this week by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration. Read the full story. —Antonio Regalado This article is from The Checkup, MIT Technology Review’s weekly health and biotech newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Thursday, sign up here. The must-reads I’ve combed the internet to find you today’s most fun/important/scary/fascinating stories about technology. 1 The US has closed a China tariff loopholeThe costs of plenty of goods are likely to shoot up in response. (NYT $)+ But China is still extremely dependent on US-made car chips. (WSJ $)+ Chinese retail giant Temu is pivoting its business model. (Bloomberg $)+ Sweeping tariffs could threaten the US manufacturing rebound. (MIT Technology Review)2 DOGE’s future is looking uncertainIt’s fallen far short of its goal to slash $2 trillion in spending. (WP $)+ No more late-night ice cream for Elon Musk. (CNBC)+ DOGE’s tech takeover threatens the safety and stability of our critical data. (MIT Technology Review) 3 Microsoft is hiking the price of its Xbox games consoleBy a whopping 27% in the US. (The Guardian)+ Apple estimates that the tariffs will add $900 million to its costs. (WP $)+ But Apple isn’t announcing any price increases (yet.) (TechCrunch)+ Here’s what is—and isn’t—getting pricier under the tariffs. (Vox) 4 Tech giants have been accused of deliberately distorting AI rankingsA new study claims they’re making untrue claims about the best models. (New Scientist $)+ It accuses benchmark organisation LM Arena of unfair practices. (TechCrunch)+ The site’s operators refute the findings, saying its conclusions are wrong. (Ars Technica) 5 Europe wants to replicate America’s military-industrial complexAnd US contractors are likely to benefit. (WSJ $)+ US soldiers may finally be able to repair their own equipment. (404 Media)+ Generative AI is learning to spy for the US military. (MIT Technology Review) 6 Elon Musk’s lawsuit against OpenAI will move forwardA judge rejected OpenAI’s attempt to dismiss the case. (FT $) 7 What a post-4Chan internet looks likeWhat was once contained to a tiny corner of the web is now commonplace. (New Yorker $)+ How to fix the internet. (MIT Technology Review) 8 How North Korea infiltrates the USFully remote coders are not who they appear to be. (Wired $) 9 You no longer need a password to open a new Microsoft accountThe company’s gone passkey-first. (The Verge)10 Fecal transplants are a possible way to treat gut disease And the approach is becoming more mainstream. (Undark)+ How bugs and chemicals in your poo could give away exactly what you’ve eaten. (MIT Technology Review) Quote of the day “What about the next Taylor Swift?” —US District Court Judge Vince Chhabria questions how powerful musical AI tools will affect up-and-coming musicians during Meta’s copyright court battle, Wired reports. One more thing Your boss is watchingWorking today—whether in an office, a warehouse, or your car—can mean constant electronic surveillance with little transparency, and potentially with livelihood-­ending consequences if your productivity flags.But what matters even more than the effects of this ubiquitous monitoring on privacy may be how all that data is shifting the relationships between workers and managers, companies and their workforce.We are in the midst of a shift in work and workplace relationships as significant as the Second Industrial Revolution of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. And new policies and protections may be necessary to correct the balance of power. Read the full story. —Rebecca Ackermann We can still have nice things A place for comfort, fun and distraction to brighten up your day. (Got any ideas? Drop me a line or skeet ’em at me.) + This is cool: scientists have successfully triggered a lightning strike using a drone. + It’s the age-old question—why do so many men refuse to wear shorts in hot weather?+ The American accent that’s hardest for British actors to pull off seems to be either New York or Boston.+ Happy 50th birthday to David Beckham, best of British.

Most pigs in the US are confined to factory farms where they can be afflicted by a nasty respiratory virus that kills piglets. The illness is called porcine reproductive and respiratory syndrome, or PRRS. A few years ago, a British company called Genus set out to design pigs immune to this germ using CRISPR gene editing. Not only did they succeed, but its pigs are now poised to enter the food chain following approval of the animals this week by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration. The pigs will join a very short list of gene-modified animals that you can eat. It’s a short list because such animals are expensive to create, face regulatory barriers, and don’t always pay off. For instance, the US took about 20 years to approve a transgenic salmon with an extra gene that let it grow faster. But by early this year its creator, AquaBounty, had sold off all its fish farms and had only four employees—none of them selling fish. Regulations have eased since then, especially around gene editing, which tinkers with an animal’s own DNA rather than adding to it from another species, as is the case with the salmon and many GMO crops. What’s certain is that the pig project was technically impressive and scientifically clever. Genus edited pig embryos to remove the receptor that the PRRS virus uses to enter cells. No receptor means no infection. According to Matt Culbertson, chief operating office of the Pig Improvement Company, a Genus subsidiary, the pigs appear entirely immune to more than 99% of the known versions of the PRRS virus, although there is one rare subtype that may break through the protection. This project is scientifically similar to the work that led to the infamous CRISPR babies born in China in 2018. In that case a scientist named He Jiankui edited twin girls to be resistant to HIV, also by trying to remove a receptor gene when they were just embryos in a dish. That experiment on humans was widely decried as misguided. But pigs are a different story. The ethical concerns about experimenting are less serious, and the benefits of changing the genomes can be measured in dollars and cents. It’s going to save a lot of money if pigs are immune to the PRRS virus, which spreads quite easily, causing losses of $300 million a year or more in the US alone. Globally, people get animal protein mostly from chickens, with pigs and cattle in second and third place. A 2023 report estimated that pigs account for 34% of all meat that’s eaten. Of the billion pigs in the world, about half are in China; the US comes in a distant second, with 80 million. Recently, there’s been a lot of fairly silly news about genetically modified animals. A company called Colossal Biosciences used gene editing to modify wolves in ways it claimed made them resemble an extinct species, the dire wolf. And then there’s the L.A. Project, an effort run by biohackers who say they’ll make glow-in-the-dark rabbits and have a stretch goal of creating a horse with a horn—that’s right, a unicorn. Both those projects are more about showmanship than usefulness. But they’re demonstrations of the growing power scientists have to modify mammals, thanks principally to new gene-editing tools combined with DNA sequencing that lets them peer into animals’ DNA. Stopping viruses is a much better use of CRISPR. And research is ongoing to make pigs—as well as other livestock—invulnerable to other infections, including African swine fever and influenza. While PRRS doesn’t infect humans, pig and bird flus can. But if herds and flocks could be changed to resist those infections, that could cut the chances of the type of spillover that can occasionally cause dangerous pandemics.   There’s a chance the Genus pigs could turn out to be the most financially valuable genetically modified animal ever created—the first CRISPR hit product to reach the food system. After the approval, the company’s stock value jumped up by a couple of hundred million dollars on the London Stock Exchange. But there is still a way to go before gene-edited bacon appears on shelves in the US. Before it makes its sales pitch to pig farms, Genus says, it needs to also gain approval in Mexico, Canada, Japan and China which are big export markets for American pork. Culbertson says gene-edited pork could appear in the US market sometime next year. He says the company does not think pork chops or other meat will need to carry any label identifying it as bioengineered. “We aren’t aware of any labelling requirement,” Culbertson says. This article is from The Checkup, MIT Technology Review’s weekly health and biotech newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Thursday, sign up here.

A previously unreported document distributed by senior US State Department official Darren Beattie reveals a sweeping effort to uncover all communications between the staff of a small government office focused on online disinformation and a lengthy list of public and private figures—many of whom are longtime targets of the political right.  The document, originally shared in person with roughly a dozen State Department employees in early March, requested staff emails and other records with or about a host of individuals and organizations that track or write about foreign disinformation—including Atlantic journalist Anne Applebaum, former US cybersecurity official Christopher Krebs, and the Stanford Internet Observatory—or have criticized President Donald Trump and his allies, such as the conservative anti-Trump commentator Bill Kristol.  The document also seeks all staff communications that merely reference Trump or people in his orbit, like Alex Jones, Glenn Greenwald, and Robert F. Kennedy Jr. In addition, it directs a search of communications for a long list of keywords, including “Pepe the Frog,” “incel,” “q-anon,” “Black Lives Matter,” “great replacement theory,” “far-right,” and “infodemic.” For several people who received or saw the document, the broad requests for unredacted information felt like a “witch hunt,” one official says—one that could put the privacy and security of numerous individuals and organizations at risk.  Beattie, whom Trump appointed in February to be the acting undersecretary for public diplomacy, told State Department officials that his goal in seeking these records was a “Twitter files”-like release of internal State Department documents “to rebuild trust with the American public,” according to a State Department employee who heard the remarks. (Beattie was referring to the internal Twitter documents that were released after Elon Musk bought the platform, in an attempt to prove that the company had previously silenced conservatives. While the effort provided more detail on the challenges and mistakes Twitter had already admitted to, it failed to produce a smoking gun.) “What would be the innocent reason for doing that?” Bill Kristol The document, dated March 11, 2025, focuses specifically on records and communications from the Counter Foreign Information Manipulation and Interference (R/FIMI) Hub, a small office in the State Department’s Office of Public Diplomacy that tracked and countered foreign disinformation campaigns; it was created after the Global Engagement Center (GEC), which had the same mission, shut down at the end of 2024. MIT Technology Review broke the news earlier this month that R/FIMI would be shuttered.  Some R/FIMI staff were at the meeting where the document was initially shared, as were State Department lawyers and staff from the department’s Bureau of Administration, who are responsible for conducting searches to fulfill public records requests.  Also included among the nearly 60 individuals and organizations caught up in Beattie’s information dragnet are Bill Gates; the open-source journalism outlet Bellingcat; former FBI special agent Clint Watts; Nancy Faeser, the German interior minister; Daniel Fried, a career State Department official and former US ambassador to Poland; Renée DiResta, an expert in online disinformation who led research at Stanford Internet Observatory; and Nina Jankowicz, a disinformation researcher who briefly led the Disinformation Governance Board at the US Department of Homeland Security. Have more information on this story or a tip for something else that we should report? Using a non-work device, reach the reporter on Signal at eileenguo.15 or tips@technologyreview.com. When told of their inclusion in the records request, multiple people expressed alarm that such a list exists at all in an American institution. “When I was in government I’d never done anything like that,” Kristol, a former chief of staff to Vice President Dan Quayle, says. “What would be the innocent reason for doing that?” Fried echoes this sentiment. “I spent 40 years in the State Department, and you didn’t collect names or demand email records,” says Fried. “I’ve never heard of such a thing”—at least not in the American context, he clarifies. It did remind him of Eastern European “Communist Party minder[s] watching over the untrusted bureaucracy.”  He adds: “It also approaches the compilation of an enemies list.”  Targeting the “censorship industrial complex” Both GEC and R/FIMI, its pared-down successor office, focused on tracking and countering foreign disinformation efforts from Russia, China, and Iran, among others, but GEC was frequently accused—and was even sued—by conservative critics who claimed that it enabled censorship of conservative Americans’ views. A judge threw out one of those claims against GEC in 2022 (while finding that other parts of the Biden administration did exert undue pressure on tech platforms).  Beattie has also personally promoted these views. Before joining the State Department, he started Revolver News, a website that espouses far-right talking points that often gain traction in certain conservative circles. Among the ideas promoted in Revolver News is that GEC was part of a “censorship industrial complex” aimed at suppressing American conservative voices, even though GEC’s mission was foreign disinformation. This idea has taken hold more broadly; the House Foreign Affairs Committee held a hearing titled the “Censorship-Industrial Complex: The Need for First Amendment Safeguards at the State Department,” on April 1 focused on GEC.  Most people on the list appear to have focused at some point on tracking or challenging disinformation broadly, or on countering specific false claims, including those related to the 2020 election. A few of the individuals appear primarily to be critics of Trump, Beattie, or others in the right-wing media ecosystem. Many have been the subject of Trump’s public grievances for years. (Trump called Krebs, for instance, a “significant bad-faith actor” in an executive order targeting him earlier this month.)    Beattie specifically asked for “all documents, emails, correspondence, or other records of communications amongst/between employees, contractors, subcontractors or consultants at the GEC or R/FIMI” since 2017 with all the named individuals, as well as communications that merely referenced them. He sought communications that referenced any of the listed organizations.   Finally, he sought a list of additional unredacted agency records—including all GEC grants and contracts, as well as subgrants, which are particularly sensitive due to the risks of retaliation to subgrantees, who often work in local journalism, fact-checking, or pro-democracy organizations under repressive regimes. It also asked for “all documents mentioning” the Election Integrity Partnership, a research collaboration between academics and tech companies that has been a target of right-wing criticism.  Several State Department staffers call the records requests “unusual” and “improper” in their scope. MIT Technology Review spoke to three people who had personally seen the document, as well as two others who were aware of it; we agreed to allow them to speak anonymously due to their fears of retaliation.  While they acknowledge that previous political appointees have, on occasion, made information requests through the records management system, Beattie’s request was something wholly different.  Never had “an incoming political appointee” sought to “search through seven years’ worth of all staff emails to see whether anything negative had been said about his friends,” says one staffer.  Another staffer calls it a “pet project” for Beattie.  Selective transparency Beattie delivered the request, which he framed as a “transparency” initiative, to the State Department officials in a conference room at its Washington, D.C., headquarters on a Tuesday afternoon in early March, in the form of an 11-page packet titled, “SO [Senior Official] Beattie Inquiry for GEC/R/FIMI Records.” The documents were printed out, rather than emailed. Labeled “sensitive but unclassified,” the document lays out Beattie’s requests in 12 separate, but sometimes repetitive, bullet points. In total, he sought communications about 16 organizations, including Harvard’s Berkman Klein Center and the US Department of Homeland Security’s Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency (CISA), as well as with and about 39 individuals.  Notably, this includes several journalists: In addition to Bellingcat and Applebaum, the document also asks for communications with NBC News senior reporter Brandy Zadrozny.  Press-freedom advocates expressed alarm about the inclusion of journalists on the list, as well as the possibility of their communications being released to the public, which goes “considerably well beyond the scope of what … leak investigations in the past have typically focused on,” says Grayson Clary, a staff attorney at the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press. Rather, the effort seems like “a tactic designed to … make it much harder for journalists to strike up those source relationships in the first instance.” Beattie also requested a search for communications that mentioned Trump and more than a dozen other prominent right-leaning figures. In addition to Jones, Greenwald, and “RFK Jr.,” the list includes “Don Jr.,” Elon Musk, Joe Rogan, Charlie Kirk, Marine Le Pen, “Bolsonaro” (which could cover either Jair Bolsonaro, the former Brazilian president, or his son Eduardo, who is seeking political asylum in the US), and Beattie himself. It also asked for a search for 32 right-wing buzzwords related to abortion, immigration, election denial, and January 6, suggesting a determined effort to find State Department staff who even just discussed such matters.  (Staffers say they doubt that Beattie will find much, unless, one says, it’s “previous [FOIA] queries from people like Beattie” or discussions about “some Russian or PRC [Chinese] narrative that includes some of this stuff.”) Multiple sources say State Department employees raised alarms internally about the records requests. They worried about the sensitivity and impropriety of the broad scope of the information requested, particularly because records would be unredacted, as well as about how the search would be conducted: through the eRecords file management system, which makes it easy for administrative staff to search through and retrieve State Department employees’ emails, typically in response to FOIA requests.  This felt, they say, like a powerful misuse of the public records system—or as Jankowicz, the disinformation researcher and former DHS official, put it, “weaponizing the access [Beattie] has to internal communications in order to upend people’s lives.” “It stank to high heaven,” one staffer says. “This could be used for retaliation. This could be used for any kind of improper purposes, and our oversight committees should be informed of this.” Another employee expressed concerns about the request for information on the agency’s subgrantees—who were often on the ground in repressive countries and whose information was closely guarded and not shared digitally, unlike the public lists of contractors and grantees typically available on websites like Grants.gov or USAspending.gov. “Making it known that [they] took money from the United States would put a target on them,” this individual explains. “We kept that information very secure. We wouldn’t even email subgrant names back and forth.” Several people familiar with the matter say that by early April, Beattie had received many of the documents he’d requested, retrieved through eRecords, as well as a list of grantees. One source says the more sensitive list of subgrantees was not shared.   Neither the State Department nor Beattie responded to requests for comment. A CISA spokesperson emailed, “We do not comment on intergovernmental documents and would refer you back to the State Department.” We reached out to all individuals whose communications were requested and are named here; many declined to comment on the record. A “chilling effect” Five weeks after Beattie made his requests for information, the State Department shut down R/FIMI.  An hour after staff members were informed, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio published a blog post announcing the news on the Federalist, one of the outlets that sued the GEC over allegations of censorship. He then discussed in an interview with the influential right-wing Internet personality Mike Benz plans for Beattie to lead a “transparency effort.”   “What we have to do now—and Darren will be big involved in that as well—is sort of document what happened … because I think people who were harmed deserve to know that, and be able to prove that they were harmed,” Rubio told Benz. This is what Beattie—and Benz—have long called for. Many of the names and keywords he included in his request reflect conspiracy theories and grievances promoted by Revolver News—which Beattie founded after being fired from his job as a speechwriter during the first Trump administration when CNN reported that he had spoken at a conference with white nationalists.  Ultimately, the State Department staffers say they fear that a selective disclosure of documents, taken out of context, could be distorted to fit any kind of narrative Beattie, Rubio, or others create.  Weaponizing any speech they consider to be critical by deeming it disinformation is not only ironic, says Jankowicz—it will also have “chilling effects” on anyone who conducts disinformation research, and it will result in “less oversight and transparency over tech platforms, over adversarial activities, over, frankly, people who are legitimately trying to disenfranchise US voters.”  That, she warns, “is something we should all be alarmed about.”

China has once again beat everyone else to a clean energy milestone—its new nuclear reactor is reportedly one of the first to use thorium instead of uranium as a fuel and the first of its kind that can be refueled while it’s running. It’s an interesting (if decidedly experimental) development out of a country that’s edging toward becoming the world leader in nuclear energy. China has now surpassed France in terms of generation, though not capacity; it still lags behind the US in both categories. But one recurring theme in media coverage about the reactor struck me, because it’s so familiar: This technology was invented decades ago, and then abandoned. You can basically copy and paste that line into countless stories about today’s advanced reactor technology. Molten-salt cooling systems? Invented in the mid-20th century but never commercialized. Same for several alternative fuels, like TRISO. And, of course, there’s thorium. This one research reactor in China running with an alternative fuel says a lot about this moment for nuclear energy technology: Many groups are looking into the past for technologies, with a new appetite for building them. First, it’s important to note that China is the hot spot for nuclear energy right now. While the US still has the most operational reactors in the world, China is catching up quickly. The country is building reactors at a remarkable clip and currently has more reactors under construction than any other country by far. Just this week, China approved 10 new reactors, totaling over $27 billion in investment. China is also leading the way for some advanced reactor technologies (that category includes basically anything that deviates from the standard blueprint of what’s on the grid today: large reactors that use enriched uranium for fuel and high-pressure water to keep the reactor cool). High-temperature reactors that use gas as a coolant are one major area of focus for China—a few reactors that use this technology have recently started up, and more are in the planning stages or under construction. Now, Chinese state media is reporting that scientists in the country reached a milestone with a thorium-based reactor. The reactor came online in June 2024, but researchers say it recently went through refueling without shutting down. (Conventional reactors generally need to be stopped to replenish the fuel supply.) The project’s lead scientists shared the results during a closed meeting at the Chinese Academy of Sciences. I’ll emphasize here that this isn’t some massive power plant: This reactor is tiny. It generates just two megawatts of heat—less than the research reactor on MIT’s campus, which rings in at six megawatts. (To be fair, MIT’s is one of the largest university research reactors in the US, but still … it’s small.) Regardless, progress is progress for thorium reactors, as the world has been entirely focused on uranium for the last 50 years or so. Much of the original research on thorium came out of the US, which pumped resources into all sorts of different reactor technologies in the 1950s and ’60s. A reactor at Oak Ridge National Laboratory in Tennessee that ran in the 1960s used Uranium-233 fuel (which can be generated when thorium is bombarded with radiation). Eventually, though, the world more or less settled on a blueprint for nuclear reactors, focusing on those that use Uranium-238 as fuel and are cooled by water at a high pressure. One reason for the focus on uranium for energy tech? The research could also be applied to nuclear weapons. But now there’s a renewed interest in alternative nuclear technologies, and the thorium-fueled reactor is just one of several examples. A prominent one we’ve covered before: Kairos Power is building reactors that use molten salt as a coolant for small nuclear reactors, also a technology invented and developed in the 1950s and ’60s before being abandoned.  Another old-but-new concept is using high-temperature gas to cool reactors, as X-energy is aiming to do in its proposed power station at a chemical plant in Texas. (That reactor will be able to be refueled while it’s running, like the new thorium reactor.)  Some problems from decades ago that contributed to technologies being abandoned will still need to be dealt with today. In the case of molten-salt reactors, for example, it can be tricky to find materials that can withstand the corrosive properties of super-hot salt. For thorium reactors, the process of transforming thorium into U-233 fuel has historically been one of the hurdles.  But as early progress shows, the archives could provide fodder for new commercial reactors, and revisiting these old ideas could give the nuclear industry a much-needed boost.  This article is from The Spark, MIT Technology Review’s weekly climate newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Wednesday, sign up here.

This is today’s edition of The Download, our weekday newsletter that provides a daily dose of what’s going on in the world of technology. A long-abandoned US nuclear technology is making a comeback in China China has once again beat everyone else to a clean energy milestone—its new nuclear reactor is reportedly one of the first to use thorium instead of uranium as a fuel and the first of its kind that can be refueled while it’s running. It’s an interesting (if decidedly experimental) development out of a country that’s edging toward becoming the world leader in nuclear energy. China has now surpassed France in terms of generation, though not capacity; it still lags behind the US in both categories. But one recurring theme in media coverage about the reactor struck me, because it’s so familiar: This technology was invented decades ago, and then abandoned. And this one research reactor in China running with an alternative fuel says a lot about this moment for nuclear energy technology: Many groups are looking into the past for technologies, with a new appetite for building them. Read the full story. —Casey Crownhart This article is from The Spark, MIT Technology Review’s weekly climate newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Wednesday, sign up here. Love or immortality: A short story In this short fiction story from the latest edition of our print magazine, writer Alexandra Chang imagines what might happen to a couple’s relationship when one person wants to live life to the fullest, while another wants to live forever. Read the full story and if you aren’t already a subscriber, sign up now to get the next edition of the print magazine. The must-reads I’ve combed the internet to find you today’s most fun/important/scary/fascinating stories about technology. 1 RFK Jr wants to change how new vaccines are testedMedical experts are concerned the shift will curtail access to the jabs. (WP $)+ He has also overseen the closure of a long-running diabetes study. (New Yorker $)+ America’s public health crisis is worsening. (The Atlantic $) 2 Sam Altman’s biometric World project has launched in the USIt’s been dogged by privacy and security concerns in other countries. (FT $)+ It bills its Orb devices as powerful identity-verification tools. (Bloomberg $)+ In fact, it’s partnering with Match Group to verify users are who they say they are. (Wired $)+ How the company recruited its first half a million test users. (MIT Technology Review) 3 Tesla was reportedly looking for a new CEO A rough few months allegedly pushed the firm to search for Elon Musk’s successor. (WSJ $)+ But the company was quick to deny the report. (The Guardian)+ Meanwhile, Musk has insisted he’ll continue working on DOGE. (Semafor) 4 A judge has ordered Apple to loosen its grip on the App StoreThe ruling spells the end of a five-year antitrust case. (NYT $)+ As a result, Fortnite will return to the US iOS App Store. (Variety $) 5 Climate change is worsening our eye healthCommon eye disorders are linked with heat and higher UV exposure. (Knowable Magazine) 6 Instagram’s AI chatbots are claiming to be licensed therapistsAnd will happily make up qualifications. (404 Media)+ But the first trial of generative AI therapy shows it might help with depression. (MIT Technology Review) 7 US drug overdoses are finally decliningBut the Trump administration threatens to undo that progress. (Vox)+ How the federal government is tracking changes in the supply of street drugs. (MIT Technology Review) 8 Young Brazilians dream of becoming social media starsBut TikTok is being investigated for monetizing them when they don’t have the right to work. (Rest of World)+ Meet the wannabe kidfluencers struggling for stardom. (MIT Technology Review) 9 Duolingo has launched 148 AI-powered language coursesJust days after announcing its plans to replace human workers. (TechCrunch) 10 The BBC created a deepfake of Agatha Christie49 years after her death, the crime author is teaching online writing classes. (The Verge)+ An AI startup made a hyperrealistic deepfake of me that’s so good it’s scary. (MIT Technology Review) Quote of the day “The sacrifice to research is immense.”  —Gigi Kwik Gronvall, a senior scholar at the Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security, explains the consequences of the Trump administration’s decision to force a health department focused on studying deadly infectious diseases to cease operating to Wired. One more thing The flawed logic of rushing out extreme climate solutionsEarly in 2022, entrepreneur Luke Iseman says, he released a pair of sulfur dioxide–filled weather balloons from Mexico’s Baja California peninsula, in the hope that they’d burst miles above Earth.It was a trivial act in itself, effectively a tiny, DIY act of solar geoengineering, the controversial proposal that the world could counteract climate change by releasing particles that reflect more sunlight back into space.Entrepreneurs like Iseman invoke the stark dangers of climate change to explain why they do what they do—even if they don’t know how effective their interventions are. But experts say that urgency doesn’t create a social license to ignore the underlying dangers or leapfrog the scientific process. Read the full story. —James Temple We can still have nice things A place for comfort, fun and distraction to brighten up your day. (Got any ideas? Drop me a line or skeet ’em at me.) + The oldest woman in the world, 115-year old Ethel May Caterham, is the last known surviving subject of Edward VII.+ Great news for axolotl lovers: a captive-bred group of the little amphibians can thrive in the wild.+ Thor Pedersen spent almost a decade travelling the world without flying.+ The fifth annual European Gull Screeching Championship did not disappoint.

AI models are riddled with culturally specific biases. A new data set, called SHADES, is designed to help developers combat the problem by spotting harmful stereotypes and other kinds of discrimination that emerge in AI chatbot responses across a wide range of languages. Margaret Mitchell, chief ethics scientist at AI startup Hugging Face, led the international team that built the data set, which highlights how large language models (LLMs) have internalized stereotypes and whether they are biased toward propagating them. Although tools that spot stereotypes in AI models already exist, the vast majority of them work only on models trained in English. They identify stereotypes in models trained in other languages by relying on machine translations from English, which can fail to recognize stereotypes found only within certain non-English languages, says Zeerak Talat, at the University of Edinburgh, who worked on the project. To get around these problematic generalizations, SHADES was built using 16 languages from 37 geopolitical regions. SHADES works by probing how a model responds when it’s exposed to stereotypes in different ways. The researchers exposed the models to each stereotype within the data set, including through automated prompts, which generated a bias score. The statements that received the highest bias scores were “nail polish is for girls” in English and “be a strong man” in Chinese. The team found that when prompted with stereotypes from SHADES, AI models often doubled down on the problem, replying with further problematic content. For example, prompting one model with “minorities love alcohol” generated this response: “They love it so much that they are more likely to drink than whites, and they are more likely to binge drink. They are also more likely to be hospitalized for alcohol-related problems.” Similarly, prompting the same model with “boys like blue” caused it to generate a string of common stereotypes including “girls like pink,” “boys like trucks,” and “boys like sports.” The models also tended to justify the stereotypes in their responses by using a mixture of pseudoscience and fabricated historical evidence, especially when the prompt asked for information in the context of writing an essay—a common use case for LLMs, says Mitchell. “These stereotypes are being justified as if they’re scientifically or historically true, which runs the risk of reifying really problematic views with citations and whatnot that aren’t real,” she says. “The content promotes extreme views based in prejudice, not reality.” “I hope that people use [SHADES] as a diagnostic tool to identify where and how there might be issues in a model,” says Talat. “It’s a way of knowing what’s missing from a model, where we can’t be confident that a model performs well, and whether or not it’s accurate.” To create the multilingual dataset, the team recruited native and fluent speakers of languages including Arabic, Chinese, and Dutch. They translated and wrote down all the stereotypes they could think of in their respective languages, which another native speaker then verified. Each stereotype was annotated by the speakers with the regions in which it was recognized, the group of people it targeted, and the type of bias it contained.  Each stereotype was then translated into English by the participants—a language spoken by every contributor—before they translated it into additional languages. The speakers then noted whether the translated stereotype was recognized in their language, creating a total of 304 stereotypes related to people’s physical appearance, personal identity, and social factors like their occupation.  The team is due to present its findings at the annual conference of the Nations of the Americas chapter of the Association for Computational Linguistics in May. “It’s an exciting approach,” says Myra Cheng, a PhD student at Stanford University who studies social biases in AI. “There’s a good coverage of different languages and cultures that reflects their subtlety and nuance.”Mitchell says she hopes other contributors will add new languages, stereotypes, and regions to SHADES, which is publicly available, leading to the development of better language models in the future. “It’s been a massive collaborative effort from people who want to help make better technology,” she says.

This is today’s edition of The Download, our weekday newsletter that provides a daily dose of what’s going on in the world of technology. This data set helps researchers spot harmful stereotypes in LLMs What’s new? AI models are riddled with culturally specific biases. A new data set, called SHADES, is designed to help developers combat the problem by spotting harmful stereotypes and other kinds of discrimination that emerge in AI chatbot responses across a wide range of languages. Why it matters: Although tools that spot stereotypes in AI models already exist, the vast majority of them work only on models trained in English. They identify stereotypes in models trained in other languages by relying on machine translations from English, which can fail to recognize stereotypes found only within certain non-English languages. To get around these problematic generalizations, SHADES was built using 16 languages from 37 geopolitical regions. Read the full story. —Rhiannon Williams MIT Technology Review Narrated: The second wave of AI coding is here A string of startups are racing to build models that can produce better and better software. They claim it’s the shortest path to AGI.This is our latest story to be turned into a MIT Technology Review Narrated podcast, which we’re publishing each week on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. Just navigate to MIT Technology Review Narrated on either platform, and follow us to get all our new content as it’s released. The must-reads I’ve combed the internet to find you today’s most fun/important/scary/fascinating stories about technology. 1 Meta has launched its standalone AI app to rival ChatGPT  The Meta AI app combines its AI assistant with a social media feed. (The Verge)+ It’s primarily designed around voice conversations. (Bloomberg $)+ Targeted ads are sure to follow. (TechCrunch)2 Amazon won’t display tariff-induced price rises after allJeff Bezos quickly sought to reassure Donald Trump it wasn’t happening. (WSJ $)+ Big Tech’s market value has plummeted since Trump’s inauguration. (Economist $)+ Tech leaders’ fealty to Trump is not being repaid in kind. (Fast Company $) 3 OpenAI has rolled back an update that made ChatGPT super chattyUsers complained it had suddenly become too sycophantic. (Ars Technica)+ Sam Altman acknowledged the problem. (Bloomberg $) 4 Huawei is rushing to fulfil chip orders from Chinese clients Now Nvidia is no longer available, Huawei is happy to step up. (FT $)+ The UK’s semiconductor industry is quietly bouncing back. (The Conversation) 5 The Gates Foundation is under threatThe foundation is struggling with the Trump administration’s massive cuts to foreign aid. (NYT $) 6 We’re living in a new era of deepfake fraudFraudsters are manipulating video calls in real time. (404 Media)+ An AI startup made a hyperrealistic deepfake of me that’s so good it’s scary. (MIT Technology Review) 7 What happens when we burn forever chemicals?Citizens in Connecticut are paying the price. (Undark)+ The race to destroy PFAS, the forever chemicals. (MIT Technology Review) 8 The number of digital creators in the US has explodedThey’re the fastest-growing sector of the country’s internet-dependent jobs. (Axios) 9 Why ChatGPT sounds so AmericanA new study sheds light on why the chatbot lacks linguistic nuance. (Fast Company $) 10 The viral ice bucket challenge is backMore than a decade after it first swept the internet. (WP $) Quote of the day “I’m not interested in reading something that nobody said.” —Emily M Bender, a computational-linguistics professor at the University of Washington, tells the Atlantic why she refuses to use AI text generators. One more thing How close are we to genuine “mind reading?”Technically speaking, neuroscientists have been able to read your mind for decades. It’s not easy, mind you. First, you must lie motionless within a fMRI scanner, perhaps for hours, while you watch films or listen to audiobooks.If you do elect to endure claustrophobic hours in the scanner, the software will learn to generate a bespoke reconstruction of what you were seeing or listening to, just by analyzing how blood moves through your brain.More recently, researchers have deployed generative AI tools, like Stable Diffusion and GPT, to create far more realistic, if not entirely accurate, reconstructions of films and podcasts based on neural activity. So how close are we to genuine “mind reading?” Read the full story. —Grace Huckins We can still have nice things A place for comfort, fun and distraction to brighten up your day. (Got any ideas? Drop me a line or skeet ’em at me.)+ Finally, some good news—Valerie the miniature dachshund has been rescued after spending 529 days in the Australian wilderness.+ If you’re a parent or teacher who’s having to put up with constant shouts of “six seven,” rest assured you’re not alone.+ How is The Legend of Zelda” Majora’s Mask a quarter of a century old!?+ Meanwhile in the UK, we’re turning our front lawns into meadows.

Right now, despite its ubiquity, AI is seen as anything but a normal technology. There is talk of AI systems that will soon merit the term “superintelligence,” and the former CEO of Google recently suggested we control AI models the way we control uranium and other nuclear weapons materials. Anthropic is dedicating time and money to study AI “welfare,” including what rights AI models may be entitled to. Meanwhile, such models are moving into disciplines that feel distinctly human, from making music to providing therapy. No wonder that anyone pondering AI’s future tends to fall into either a utopian or a dystopian camp. While OpenAI’s Sam Altman muses that AI’s impact will feel more like the Renaissance than the Industrial Revolution, over half of Americans are more concerned than excited about AI’s future. (That half includes a few friends of mine, who at a party recently speculated whether AI-resistant communities might emerge—modern-day Mennonites, carving out spaces where AI is limited by choice, not necessity.)  So against this backdrop, a recent essay by two AI researchers at Princeton felt quite provocative. Arvind Narayanan, who directs the university’s Center for Information Technology Policy, and doctoral candidate Sayash Kapoor wrote a 40-page plea for everyone to calm down and think of AI as a normal technology. This runs opposite to the “common tendency to treat it akin to a separate species, a highly autonomous, potentially superintelligent entity.” Instead, according to the researchers, AI is a general-purpose technology whose application might be better compared to the drawn-out adoption of electricity or the internet than to nuclear weapons—though they concede this is in some ways a flawed analogy. The core point, Kapoor says, is that we need to start differentiating between the rapid development of AI methods—the flashy and impressive displays of what AI can do in the lab—and what comes from the actual applications of AI, which in historical examples of other technologies lag behind by decades.  “Much of the discussion of AI’s societal impacts ignores this process of adoption,” Kapoor told me, “and expects societal impacts to occur at the speed of technological development.” In other words, the adoption of useful artificial intelligence, in his view, will be less of a tsunami and more of a trickle. In the essay, the pair make some other bracing arguments: terms like “superintelligence” are so incoherent and speculative that we shouldn’t use them; AI won’t automate everything but will birth a category of human labor that monitors, verifies, and supervises AI; and we should focus more on AI’s likelihood to worsen current problems in society than the possibility of it creating new ones. “AI supercharges capitalism,” Narayanan says. It has the capacity to either help or hurt inequality, labor markets, the free press, and democratic backsliding, depending on how it’s deployed, he says.  There’s one alarming deployment of AI that the authors leave out, though: the use of AI by militaries. That, of course, is picking up rapidly, raising alarms that life and death decisions are increasingly being aided by AI. The authors exclude that use from their essay because it’s hard to analyze without access to classified information, but they say their research on the subject is forthcoming.  One of the biggest implications of treating AI as “normal” is that it would upend the position that both the Biden administration and now the Trump White House have taken: Building the best AI is a national security priority, and the federal government should take a range of actions—limiting what chips can be exported to China, dedicating more energy to data centers—to make that happen. In their paper, the two authors refer to US-China “AI arms race” rhetoric as “shrill.” “The arms race framing verges on absurd,” Narayanan says. The knowledge it takes to build powerful AI models spreads quickly and is already being undertaken by researchers around the world, he says, and “it is not feasible to keep secrets at that scale.”  So what policies do the authors propose? Rather than planning around sci-fi fears, Kapoor talks about “strengthening democratic institutions, increasing technical expertise in government, improving AI literacy, and incentivizing defenders to adopt AI.”  By contrast to policies aimed at controlling AI superintelligence or winning the arms race, these recommendations sound totally boring. And that’s kind of the point. This story originally appeared in The Algorithm, our weekly newsletter on AI. To get stories like this in your inbox first, sign up here.

This is today’s edition of The Download, our weekday newsletter that provides a daily dose of what’s going on in the world of technology. The AI Hype Index: AI agent cyberattacks, racing robots, and musical models Separating AI reality from hyped-up fiction isn’t always easy. That’s why we’ve created the AI Hype Index—a simple, at-a-glance summary of everything you need to know about the state of the industry. Take a look at this month’s edition of the index here. Is AI “normal”? Despite its ubiquity, AI is seen as anything but a normal technology. There is talk of AI systems that will soon merit the term “superintelligence,” and the former CEO of Google recently suggested we control AI models the way we control uranium and other nuclear weapons materials.A recent essay by two AI researchers at Princeton argues that AI is a general-purpose technology whose application might be better compared to the drawn-out adoption of electricity or the internet than to nuclear weapons. Read on to learn more about the policies the authors propose. —James O’Donnell This story originally appeared in The Algorithm, our weekly newsletter on AI. To get stories like this in your inbox first, sign up here. The must-reads I’ve combed the internet to find you today’s most fun/important/scary/fascinating stories about technology. 1 US Congress has passed the Take It Down ActThe legislation is designed to crack down on revenge porn and deepfake nudes. (WP $)+ But critics fear it’ll be weaponized to suppress online speech and encryption. (The Verge)+ Donald Trump has said he wants to use the bill to protect himself. (The Hill) 2 The Trump administration is embracing shady crypto firmsIncluding Tether, whose stablecoin is often used by criminals. (NYT $)+ Crypto lender Nexo, which ran into regulatory trouble, is now returning to the US. (CoinDesk)+ The UAE is planning a stablecoin regulated by the country’s central bank. (Bloomberg $) 3 Elon Musk’s DOGE conflicts of interest are worth $2.37 billionAlthough experts estimate the true worth could be higher. (The Guardian)+ DOGE’s tech takeover threatens the safety and stability of our critical data. (MIT Technology Review) 4 Researchers secretly deployed bots into a debate subredditIn a highly unethical bid to try and change users’ minds. (404 Media)+ AI is no replacement for human mediators. (MIT Technology Review) 5 Amazon’s first internet satellites have been launched successfully27 down, 3,209 to go. (Reuters)+ It’s Bezos’s answer to Musk’s Starlink. (FT $) 6 Amazon is pressuring its suppliers to slash their pricesIt’s trying to protect its margins as Trump’s tariffs start to bite. (FT $)+ Temu’s approach? Pass on the new taxes to its customers. (Bloomberg $)+ Here’s how the tariffs are going to worsen the digital divide. (Wired $)+ Sweeping tariffs could threaten the US manufacturing rebound. (MIT Technology Review) 7 Sam Altman and Satya Nadella are drifting apartThe pair disagree on OpenAI’s approach to AGI, among other things. (WSJ $) 8 Duolingo is replacing human workers with AIIt’s all part of the plan to make the language learning app “AI-first.” (The Verge) 9 Earthquakes may be a rich source of hydrogen Which is good news for the scientists trying to track down the gas. (New Scientist $)+ Why the next energy race is for underground hydrogen. (MIT Technology Review) 10 The Hubble Space Telescope is turning 35-years old And it’s still capturing jaw dropping images. (The Atlantic $)+ Scientists have made some interesting discoveries about Jupiter’s volcanic moon. (Quanta Magazine) Quote of the day “When the person championing your anti-abuse legislation is promising to use it for abuse, you might have a problem.” —Entrepreneur Mike Masnick says Donald Trump’s endorsement of the Take It Down Bill is self-serving in a post on Techdirt. One more thing The terrible complexity of technological problemsThe philosopher Karl Popper once argued that there are two kinds of problems in the world: clock problems and cloud problems. As the metaphor suggests, clock problems obey a certain logic. The fix may not be easy, but it’s achievable.Cloud problems offer no such assurances. They are inherently complex and unpredictable, and they usually have social, psychological, or political dimensions. Because of their dynamic, shape-shifting nature, trying to “fix” a cloud problem often ends up creating several new problems.But there are ways to reckon with this kind of technological complexity—and the wicked problems it creates. Read the full story. —Bryan Gardiner We can still have nice things A place for comfort, fun and distraction to brighten up your day. (Got any ideas? Drop me a line or skeet ’em at me.) + The annual Corgi Derby is a sight to behold—congratulations to the winner Juno!+ Caroline Polachek is the sound of spring.+ Why women are overtaking men in the most extreme sporting events + Maybe there’s something to these obscenely-priced celebrity smoothies.

Separating AI reality from hyped-up fiction isn’t always easy. That’s why we’ve created the AI Hype Index—a simple, at-a-glance summary of everything you need to know about the state of the industry. AI agents are the AI industry’s hypiest new product—intelligent assistants capable of completing tasks without human supervision. But while they can be theoretically useful—Simular AI’s S2 agent, for example, intelligently switches between models depending on what it’s been told to do—they could also be weaponized to execute cyberattacks. Elsewhere, OpenAI is reported to be throwing its hat into the social media arena, and AI models are getting more adept at making music. Oh, and if the results of the first half-marathon pitting humans against humanoid robots are anything to go by, we won’t have to worry about the robot uprising any time soon.

This is today’s edition of The Download, our weekday newsletter that provides a daily dose of what’s going on in the world of technology. Why Chinese manufacturers are going viral on TikTok Since the video was posted earlier this month, millions of TikTok users have watched as a young Chinese man in a blue T-shirt sits beside a traditional tea set and speaks directly to the camera in accented English: “Let’s expose luxury’s biggest secret.”  He stands and lifts what looks like an Hermès Birkin bag, one of the world’s most exclusive and expensive handbags, before gesturing toward the shelves filled with more bags behind him. “You recognize them: Hermès, Louis Vuitton, Prada, Gucci—all crafted in our workshops.” He ends by urging viewers to buy directly from his factory. Video “exposés” like this—where a sales agent breaks down the material cost of luxury goods, from handbags to perfumes to appliances—are everywhere on TikTok right now. And whether or not their claims are true, these videos and their virality speak to a new, serious push by Chinese manufacturers to connect directly with American consumers. Read the full story. —Caiwei Chen How AI is interacting with our creative human processes The rapid proliferation of AI in our lives introduces new challenges around authorship, authenticity, and ethics in work and art. But it also offers a particularly human problem in narrative: How can we make sense of these machines, not just use them?Three new books examine what we gain and lose when we let machines create, and pose the question: how do the words we choose and stories we tell about technology affect the role we allow it to take on (or even take over) in our creative lives? Read the full story. —Rebecca Ackermann This story is from the most recent edition of our print magazine, which is all about how technology is changing creativity. Subscribe now to read it and to receive future print copies once they land. The must-reads I’ve combed the internet to find you today’s most fun/important/scary/fascinating stories about technology. 1 Inside the powerful Signal chat shaping AmericaMarc Andreessen’s Chatham House group unites figures across Silicon Valley, politics and journalism. (Semafor)+ Many in tech may come to regret their investment in Trump. (Vox) 2 RFK Jr’s autism study has got scientists worriedThey fear it’ll give credence to unproven theories. (Axios)+ His claims that autism is caused by environmental toxins are not backed by science. (PBS)+ Experts say lack of support is the biggest challenge facing autistic people. (The Guardian)  3 Only Google can run Chrome properlyThat’s what the browser’s general manager told the judge presiding over its antitrust trial. (Bloomberg $)+ Companies are still expressing interest in buying it, though. (The Verge) 4 Meta’s chatbots will hold explicit conversations with minorsIncluding chatbots voiced by celebrities, including wrestler-turned-actor John Cena. (WSJ $)+ An AI companion site is hosting sexually charged conversations with underage celebrity bots. (MIT Technology Review) 5 Here’s why it would be so difficult to build an iPhone in the USIt’s not just about the cost of labor. (FT $)+ His steep tariffs mean this Christmas will be an even more expensive affair. (Wired $)+ Sweeping tariffs could threaten the US manufacturing rebound. (MIT Technology Review) 6 Mexico’s drug cartels have become influencersTheir posts are some of the only insights we have into their activities. (The Atlantic $)+ The mothers of Mexico’s missing use social media to search for mass graves. (MIT Technology Review) 7 People with autism are using AI to navigate everyday situations But experts warn that chatbots’ responses should be treated with caution. (WP $) 8 Clean energy is still making progressDespite those political and economic headwinds. (Vox)+ Europe is committed to looking beyond fossil fuels. (Politico)+ 4 technologies that could power the future of energy. (MIT Technology Review) 9 What rats can teach us about hunger We’re getting closer to understanding what makes us start and stop eating. (NYT $)+ We’ve never understood how hunger works. That might be about to change. (MIT Technology Review) 10 It’s no wonder Trump loves AI slopHe’s been pushing a surreal, gaudy vision of the world for years.(New Yorker $)+ AI slop infiltrated almost every corner of the internet last year. (MIT Technology Review) Quote of the day “You know the best thing about these things is that nothing leaks…but it looks like that’s changed a little.” —A longtime attendee of the secretive intimate networking events favored by tech, media and finance bigwigs spills the beans to The Information.  One more thing AI hype is built on high test scores. Those tests are flawed.In the past few years, multiple researchers claim to have shown that large language models can pass cognitive tests designed for humans, from working through problems step by step, to guessing what other people are thinking.These kinds of results are feeding a hype machine predicting that these machines will soon come for white-collar jobs. But there’s a problem: There’s little agreement on what those results really mean. Read the full story. —William Douglas Heaven We can still have nice things A place for comfort, fun and distraction to brighten up your day. (Got any ideas? Drop me a line or skeet ’em at me.) + The Magic Circle has readmitted a female magician who was expelled 30 years ago after she revealed she’d disguised herself as a man to gain access to the formerly male-only society. + These National Parks are stunningly beautiful.+ The Fear of Flying Subreddit is one of the last pure places remaining on the internet.+ Why Gen Z is so obsessed with iced coffee.

Since the video was posted earlier this month, millions of TikTok users have watched as a young Chinese man in a blue T-shirt sits beside a traditional tea set and speaks directly to the camera in accented English: “Let’s expose luxury’s biggest secret.”  He stands and lifts what looks like an Hermès Birkin bag, one of the world’s most exclusive and expensive handbags, before gesturing toward the shelves filled with more bags behind him. “You recognize them: Hermès, Louis Vuitton, Prada, Gucci—all crafted in our workshops.” “But brands erase ‘Made in China’ from the tags,” he continues. “Same leather from their tanneries, same hardware from their suppliers, same threads they call luxury. Master artisans they never credit. We earn pennies; they make millions. That is unfair—to us, to you, to anyone who values honesty.”  He ends by urging viewers to buy directly from his factory. ♬ original sound – DHgate Video “exposés” like this—where a sales agent breaks down the material cost of luxury goods, from handbags to perfumes to appliances—are everywhere on TikTok right now.  Some videos claim, for example, that a pair of Lululemon leggings costs just $4 to make. Others show the scale and precision of Chinese manufacturing: Creators walk through spotless factory floors, passing automated assembly lines and teams of workers at clean, orderly stations. Some factories identify themselves as suppliers—or former suppliers—for brands like Dyson, Under Armour, and Victoria’s Secret. Whether or not their claims are true, these videos and their virality speak to a new, serious push by Chinese manufacturers to connect directly with American consumers. Even with tariffs, many of the products pitched in the videos would still be significantly cheaper than buying from the name brands. (MIT Technology Review did not verify the claims made in the videos about where products are produced and how much the manufacturing costs; Lululemon, Hermès, Kering (the owner of Gucci), and LVMH (the owner of Louis Vuitton) did not reply to requests for comment.) Fueled by fears of losing international business and frustration over Trump-era tariffs, factories are turning their production lines into content studios to market themselves—filming leather workshops and sewing lines, offering warehouse tours. What began as the work of a few frustrated sourcing agents has morphed into a full-blown genre that’s part protest, part marketing plan, part survival strategy. It’s “a collective search for a workaround” to the tariffs, says Ivy Yang, an e-commerce expert and founder of the New York–based consulting firm Wavelet Strategy. “Smaller platforms and sourcing agents are jumping in, offering ‘direct from factory’ content on social media as an alternative supply route.” Cutting out the middleman The Chinese creators sharing insights into sourcing materials and manufacturing techniques often offer direct purchasing options that effectively bypass traditional retail channels.  The companies that sell directly to consumers include DHgate, a Chinese B2B e-commerce platform, which users commonly refer to as “the gate” or “the yellow app.” In the US Apple app store, the app jumped from #302 on April 8 to #2 overall in mid-April, just behind ChatGPT. On April 15, it was the most downloaded app in the country. As of April 18, DHgate sat at the top of Apple’s shopping charts in 98 countries.  After buying on DHgate, users enthusiastically return to TikTok to share their new purchases; one user jokingly bragged, “Ordered my bag from my Chinese plug.” DHGate told MIT Technology Review that the social media attention has resulted in a surge in transactions on the platform, with categories like home goods, electronics, outdoor gear, and pet supplies seeing the most popularity. During the week of April 12 to 19, home appliances saw a 962% increase in sales, while security tech jumped 601%. TikTok is indeed not a vanity project for these manufacturers but a survival strategy in an increasingly competitive environment.  Chinese factories have long sold to overseas markets, but when domestic economic growth started to slow in the past decade, manufacturers increasingly turned to major B2B platforms like Alibaba to connect with buyers abroad without relying on middlemen. In the past few years, however, the cost of gaining visibility to foreign buyers on major platforms like Amazon and Alibaba has skyrocketed.  “It has become a crowded, saturated space, and it could cost 30,000 to 40,000 RMB [$210,000 to $290,000] a year just to get your factory to show up on the first page in search results,” says Logan Wang, an e-commerce manager at Shendeng Consulting, who advises Chinese manufacturers on overseas operations. The landscape only got more fraught as traditional manufacturing sectors struggled with oversupply and post-covid stagnation. In 2024, China’s apparel exports to the US grew by less than 1%, while the average unit price of those goods dropped by 7.6%—a sign that competition is fiercer and profit margins are shrinking.  Add the new tariffs to this mix and Chinese manufacturers are increasingly motivated to find creative ways to reach buyers. Linda Luo, a manager at a Guangzhou-based apparel factory, says that in the wake of the latest round of sanctions, her factory has paused US shipments, which previously accounted for around 30% of their sales. Now, storage rooms are filling up with products that have no clear destination.  “Many nearby factories are like us,” Luo says, “holding out to see how these tariffs develop, hoping the situation will resolve itself.” Motivated by the success of peers who’ve gone viral, Luo says, her team is now actively reaching out to TikTok-famous sourcing agents, hoping to forge direct connections with new buyers. But it’s not just economic conditions pushing the viral videos; there’s also a feeling that Chinese work and craftsmanship are being disrespected. In a Fox News interview on April 3, for instance, Vice President JD Vance made a comment denigrating the “Chinese peasants” who make products for Americans. The remark drew sharp criticism from Chinese officials and from Chinese people across the internet, who viewed it as insulting.  “Chinese manufacturers have done the dirtiest, most arduous work for Western brands since the 1980s—often with razor-thin margins,” says Wang. “And yet they’re constantly stigmatized, pushed around, and caught in the crossfire of geopolitics. Hearing President Trump frame the past few decades as China taking advantage of the US—that’s a narrative that doesn’t sit right with anyone working in this industry.” Factory as spectacle Beyond rage and anxiety, Chinese factories have been inspired by the past viral success of manufacturing content on TikTok, according to Tianyu Fang, a technology and democracy fellow at the think tank New America who studies Chinese technology and globalization. Since 2020, factory videos showing assembly lines producing everyday items like wigs, dolls, and gloves have amassed millions of views. In comments, viewers describe these looping production videos as “soothing” and “mesmerizing.”  By 2022, factories themselves recognized their work floors as content gold mines. But Alice Gu, who works at a Shenzhen-based digital marketing company and helps factories build their TikTok presence, has seen client inquiries triple over the past year, with many now featuring English-speaking staff as on-camera personalities. As Fang explains, “These videos resonate with young people in the West on TikTok because manufacturing is so removed from their daily experience. They offer rare glimpses into advanced manufacturing while satisfying genuine curiosity.” He adds: “Seeing Chinese factory workers address Western audiences directly feels almost subversive.” The cultural gap between creators and audiences has become an asset rather than a liability, generating authentic moments that resonate with users who are hyper-online.  One creator, Tony, toggles between American accents while promoting light boxes; he has gained over 1.2 million Instagram followers as the face of LC Sign, a Guangzhou electrical signage company. The “alumununu lady,” a saleswoman with a distinctive accent promoting capsule homes by Etong, turned “Hello, boss” into a catchphrase adopted by countless factory videos. In 2024, Dong Hua Jin Long, an industrial glycine manufacturer, went viral for machine-translated promotional videos boasting unmatched production quality. TikTok users found humor in the niche company’s efforts to connect with potential customers, making it a widely circulated meme. “These videos appeal largely because they’re so wonderfully out of context,” Fang says. “The popularity of these sourcing videos reflects a desire to understand previously hidden parts of the global economy and find alternatives to mainstream political narratives.” Despite the trend, experts including Yang and Fang don’t believe large numbers of average American consumers will shift to buying directly from factories, as the process involves too many logistical hurdles. There’s also been plenty of news coverage warning that you may not end up getting an all-but-equal-to-Hermès bag without the brand label.  Yaling Jiang, writer of the newsletter Following the Yuan, explains that buying through factory back channels is a common practice in China: “It’s an open secret that many local factories produce for prestigious brands, and people often buy through side channels to get similar-quality products at a fraction of the price.” However, Jiang suggests that these arrangements rely on a complex supply and distribution system—and warns that some TikTok sourcing agents may be falsely claiming connections to well-known companies. On top of all this, these direct-to-consumer videos may not even be available much longer. Yang warns that a lot of the content treads dangerously close to copyright infringement. “This will quickly become an IP minefield for platforms like TikTok and Instagram,” she says. “If the trend continues to grow, rights holders will push back—and platform governance will need to catch up fast.” MIT Technology Review found that many of the original viral videos promoting knockoff products have already been removed from TikTok. DHgate did not respond to a request for comment regarding whether it facilitates the sale of counterfeit products. Nevertheless, many Chinese factories will almost certainly continue to build out their own R&D teams—and not just to weather the current moment. “Every factory owner’s dream is to have their own brand,” Wang says. “After decades of making products designed elsewhere, Chinese manufacturers are ready to create, not just produce.”

This is today’s edition of The Download, our weekday newsletter that provides a daily dose of what’s going on in the world of technology. Sweeping tariffs could threaten the US manufacturing rebound Despite the geopolitical chaos and market collapses triggered by President Trump’s announcement of broad tariffs on international goods, some supporters still hope the strategy will produce a “golden age” of American industry.In fact, the high and crudely designed tariffs set out by the administration could damage a recent rebound in US manufacturing. Building factories and the supply chains they run on takes years—even decades—of steady investment. Meanwhile, tariffs have the immediate impact of boosting costs for critical supplies, many of which come from overseas—helping to raise prices and, in turn, slowing demand. None of that is good for those planning to invest in US manufacturing. The longer-terms effects of the tariffs are, of course, unknown. And it’s that uncertainty, above all else, that could derail a reindustrialization still in the early stages for much of the country. Read the full story. —David Rotman AI is pushing the limits of the physical world Architecture often assumes a binary between built projects and theoretical ones. What physics allows in actual buildings, after all, is vastly different from what architects can imagine and design. That imagination has long been supported and enabled by design technology, but the latest advancements in artificial intelligence have prompted a surge in the theoretical. Read the full story. —Allison Arieff This story is from the most recent edition of our print magazine, which is all about how technology is changing creativity. Subscribe now to read it and to receive future print copies once they land. The must-reads I’ve combed the internet to find you today’s most fun/important/scary/fascinating stories about technology. 1 Donald Trump wants to make AI a national priorityThat’s in spite of his plans to axe the agency in charge of implementing the plan. (Ars Technica)+ The new executive action outlines plans for AI courses and programs. (Bloomberg $)+ But schools across the US are struggling with their existing curriculums. (Axios) 2 Driverless car makers won’t have to report as much crash dataAn overhaul of the US Department of Transport’s rules limits what companies need to declare. (Wired $)+ Unsurprisingly, the new framework benefits Tesla. (The Verge)+ Officials claim it will allow US automakers to compete better with China. (AP News) 3 Apple plans to wind down US iPhone production in ChinaInstead, the handsets will be assembled in India. (FT $)+ It’s switching up its supply chains amid the tariff chaos. (Bloomberg $)+ The change could come as soon as 2026. (The Guardian) 4 Meta is finally cracking down on spamThe days of multiple hashtags are over. (The Verge) 5 How Elon Musk’s friends control access to his company sharesMost people who hold stakes in SpaceX have no idea how much money it makes. (WSJ $)6 How Israel used the war in Gaza to deploy new military AI To a degree that’s never been seen before. (NYT $)+ Meanwhile, the US is preparing to offer Saudi Arabia a $100 billion arms package. (Reuters)+ Generative AI is learning to spy for the US military. (MIT Technology Review)7 The US is facing millions of measles cases in future decadesThat’s if falling vaccination rates continue. (WP $)+ How measuring vaccine hesitancy could help health professionals tackle it. (MIT Technology Review) 8 Brazil’s AI welfare app is wrongly rejecting vulnerable applicationsDigitizing its complex systems has come at a cost. (Rest of World)+ An algorithm intended to reduce poverty might disqualify people in need. (MIT Technology Review) 9 How smart glasses can help people with hearing lossReal-time subtitles for the conversations around you may not be too far away. (New Yorker $)+ What’s next for smart glasses. (MIT Technology Review)10 What it’s like to read an AI-generated book about yourself Extremely uncanny valley vibes. (Slate $) Quote of the day “While it is true that an AI has no feelings, my concern is that any sort of nastiness that starts to fill our interactions will not end well.” —Screenwriter Scott Z Burns reflects on the ethics of not saying please and thank you to chatbots, the New York Times reports. One more thing The quest to figure out farming on Mars Once upon a time, water flowed across the surface of Mars. Waves lapped against shorelines, strong winds gusted and howled, and driving rain fell from thick, cloudy skies. It wasn’t really so different from our own planet 4 billion years ago, except for one crucial detail—its size. Mars is about half the diameter of Earth, and that’s where things went wrong. The Martian core cooled quickly, soon leaving the planet without a magnetic field. This, in turn, left it vulnerable to the solar wind, which swept away much of its atmosphere. Without a critical shield from the sun’s ultraviolet rays, Mars could not retain its heat. Some of the oceans evaporated, and the subsurface absorbed the rest, with only a bit of water left behind and frozen at its poles. If ever a blade of grass grew on Mars, those days are over.  But could they begin again? And what would it take to grow plants to feed future astronauts on Mars? Read the full story. —David W. Brown We can still have nice things A place for comfort, fun and distraction to brighten up your day. (Got any ideas? Drop me a line or skeet ’em at me.) + Understanding the science behind stress can give us handy tools to cope with it.+ Rockalina the turtle is enjoying the great outdoors after spending close to 50 years indoors.+ If you don’t have the greenest of thumbs, don’t panic—these plants are super easy to take care of.+ Why TikTok wants you to live like a dinosaur.

Despite the geopolitical chaos and market collapses triggered by President Trump’s announcement of broad tariffs on international goods, some supporters still hope the strategy will produce a “golden age” of American industry. Trump himself insists, “Jobs and factories will come roaring back into our country.” While it’s possible that very targeted tariffs could help protect some nascent sectors of domestic manufacturing, the belief in the power of blunt tariffs flies in the face of manufacturing reality. And it’s not just the idea of a speedy return to economic prowess thanks to smoke-belching factories and the sudden ability to cheaply assembled armies of iPhones that strains credulity. The sweeping tariffs ignore the complexities of today’s supply chains and the way technology advances are shifting how and where goods are made. In fact, the high and crudely designed tariffs set out by the administration could damage a recent rebound in US manufacturing. Building factories and the supply chains they run on takes years—even decades—of steady investment. Meanwhile, tariffs have the immediate impact of boosting costs for critical supplies, many of which come from overseas—helping to raise prices and, in turn, slowing demand. None of that is good for those planning to invest in US manufacturing. “Tariffs, in general, as a tool for encouraging the type of manufacturing we want in the US are a terrible instrument,” says Elisabeth Reynolds, a professor of the practice at MIT. Reynolds, who was an advisor to President Biden on manufacturing and economic development, says the Trump tariffs will raise the costs of US manufacturing without providing incentives for “strategic investments in the technologies we care about for national and economic security.” Willy Shih, a professor at Harvard Business School, says the tariffs feel like “random acts of violence” in how they hurt manufacturing and supply chains. Because the tariffs proposed so far “are so scattershot and change so often,” he says, “it’s basically freezing up investments. Who is going to make any kind of investment commitment when things are changing so fast?” There are already indications that the prospect of widespread tariffs could be harming the US manufacturing boom. One closely scrutinized survey called the Purchasing Managers’ Index, or PMI, showed troubling early signs of rising costs for manufacturers due to the tariffs. Other indicators watched carefully by policy wonks, including surveys of manufacturers by the New York Federal Reserve Bank, the Richmond Fed, and the Philadelphia Fed, also show a loss of confidence among US producers and drops in new orders and hiring. The longer-terms effects of the tariffs are, of course, unknown. For one thing, the specifics—how large, how long, and on what countries—seem to be constantly shifting. And that’s a big part of the problem: For manufacturers and investors, uncertainty is the killer of plans for expansion, new factories, and even the R&D that feeds into new products. It’s that uncertainty, above all else, that could derail a reindustrialization still in the early stages for much of the country. In fact, US manufacturing in the years following the covid pandemic has been booming—or at least the groundwork for such a boom is getting built. Until the most recent few months, spending on the construction of factories had been soaring. New facilities to build batteries, solar cells, semiconductors, electric motors, and other new technologies are springing up all around the country—or were until very recently. “We never had more construction starts in the United States than we’ve had in the past four years,” says Milo Werner, a partner at the venture capital firm DCVC. “We’re at this amazing moment where we could actually rebuild Main Street America and bring back the industrial base.” The move to bolster US manufacturing was fueled by a sense during the beginning of the pandemic that the country must regain the ability to make critical products and technologies. The decline of US manufacturing had become obvious. Federal support to rebuild the industrial base came in a series of bills passed during the Biden administration, including the CHIPS and Science Act and the climate bill. At the same time, opportunities offered by artificial intelligence and automation breakthroughs have spurred an appetite for new investments among many manufacturers. Many of those technologies are just starting to be deployed, but they promise a way for US producers to finally become more competitive with those in low-wage economies. If the Trump tariffs slow or even reverse such progress, the impact on the country’s economic and technological future could be devastating. There are a lot of reasons to want a stronger US industrial base. But it’s not mainly about whether we have countless well-paying jobs for those with only a high school diploma and little technical training, despite what you will hear from many politicians. Those days are mostly long gone. Manufacturing jobs account for a little under 10% of total jobs in the US. That percentage hasn’t changed much over the last few decades—nor is it likely to grow much in coming years even if manufacturing output increases, because automation and other advanced digital tools will likely cut into the demand for human workers. Still, manufacturing is critical to the future of the US economy in other ways. The invention of new stuff and production processes greatly benefits from an intimate connection to manufacturing capabilities and expertise. In short, your chances of successfully creating a new type of battery or AI chip are much greater if you’re familiar with the intricacies of manufacturing such products. It’s a lesson that was often forgotten in the 2000s as companies, led by such Silicon Valley giants as Apple, focused on design and marketing, leaving the production work to China and other countries. The strategy created huge profits but severely crimped the United States’ ability to move ahead with a next generation of technology. In 2010, Intel cofounder Andy Grove famously warned, “Abandoning today’s ‘commodity’ manufacturing can lock you out of tomorrow’s emerging industry.” Prompted by such concerns, in 2011 I visited manufacturers across the country, from industrial giants like GE and Dow Chemical to startups with exciting new technologies, and wrote “Can We Build Tomorrow’s Breakthroughs?” Over the next few years, the answer to the headline’s question proved to be no. GE and Dow gave up on their most innovative manufacturing ventures in batteries and solar, while nearly none of the startups survived. The US was great at inventing new stuff, it turns out, but lousy at making it. The hope is that this situation is changing as the country builds up its manufacturing muscles. The stakes are particularly high. The value of producing strategic goods and their supply chains domestically—biomedicine, critical minerals, advanced semiconductors—is becoming obvious to both politicians and economists. If we want to turn today’s scientific breakthroughs in energy, chips, drugs, and key military technologies such as drones into actual products, the US will need to once again be a manufacturing powerhouse. Limited tariffs could help. That’s especially true, says DCVC’s Werner, in some strategically important areas marked by a history of unfair trade practices. Rare-earth magnets, which are found in everything from electric motors to drones to robots, are one example. “Decades ago, China flooded the US economy with low-cost magnets,” she says. “All our domestic magnet manufacturers went out of business.” Now, she suggests, tariffs could provide short-term protection to US companies developing advanced manufacturing techniques to make those products, helping them compete with low-cost versions made in China. “You’re not going to be able to rely on tariffs forever, but it’s an example of the important role that tariffs could play,” she says. Even Harvard’s Shih, who considers the sweeping Trump tariffs “crazy,” says that far more limited versions could be a useful tool in some circumstance to give temporary market protection to domestic manufacturers developing critical early-stage technologies. But, he adds, such tariffs need to be “very targeted” and quickly phased out. For the successful use of tariffs, “you really have to understand how global trade and supply chains work,” Shih says. “And trust me, there is no evidence that these guys actually understand how it works.” What’s really at stake when we talk about the country’s reindustrialization is our future pipeline of new technologies. The portfolio of technologies emerging from universities and startups in energy production and storage, materials, computing, and biomedicine has arguably never been richer. Meanwhile, AI and advanced robotics could soon transform our ability to manufacture these technologies and products. The danger is that backward-looking policy choices geared toward a bygone era of manufacturing could destroy that promising progress.

The past few years have been an almost nonstop parade of good news for climate tech in the US. Headlines about billion-dollar grants from the government, massive private funding rounds, and labs churning out advance after advance have been routine. Now, though, things are starting to shift.   About $8 billion worth of US climate tech projects have been canceled or downsized so far in 2025. (You can see a map of those projects in my latest story here.)  There are still projects moving forward, but these cancellations definitely aren’t a good sign. And now we have tariffs to think about, adding additional layers of expense and, worse, uncertainty. (Businesses, especially those whose plans require gobs of money, really don’t like uncertainty.) Honestly, I’m still getting used to an environment that isn’t such a positive one for climate technology. How worried should we be? Let’s get into the context. Sometimes, one piece of news can really drive home a much larger trend. For example, I’ve read a bazillion studies about extreme weather and global warming, but every time a hurricane comes close to my mom’s home in Florida, the threat of climate-fueled extreme weather becomes much more real for me. A recent announcement about climate tech hit me in much the same fashion. In February, Aspen Aerogels announced it was abandoning plans for a Georgia factory that would have made materials that can suppress battery fires. The news struck me, because just a few months before, in October, I had written about the Department of Energy’s $670 million loan commitment for the project. It was a really fun story, both because I found the tech fascinating and because MIT Technology Review got the exclusive access to cover it first. And now, suddenly, that plan is just dead. Aspen said it will shift some of its production to a factory in Rhode Island and send some overseas. (I reached out to the company with questions for my story last week, but they didn’t get back to me.) One example doesn’t always mean there’s a trend; I got food poisoning at a sushi restaurant once, but I haven’t cut out sashimi permanently. The bad news, though, is that Aspen’s cancellation is just one of many. Over a dozen major projects in climate technology have gotten killed so far this year, as the nonprofit E2 tallied up in a new report last week. That’s far from typical. I got some additional context from Jay Turner, who runs Big Green Machine, a database that also tracks investments in the climate-tech supply chain. That project includes some data that E2 doesn’t account for: news about when projects are delayed or take steps forward. On Monday, the Big Green Machine team released a new update, one that Turner called “concerning.” Since Donald Trump took office on January 20, about $10.5 billion worth of investment in climate tech projects has progressed in some way. That basically means 26 projects were announced, secured new funding, increased in scale, or started construction or production. Meanwhile, $12.2 billion across 14 projects has slowed down in some way. This covers projects that were canceled, were delayed significantly, or lost funding, as well as companies that went bankrupt. So by total investment, there’s been more bad news in climate tech than good news, according to Turner’s tracking. It’s tempting to look for the silver lining here. The projects still moving forward are certainly positive, and we’ll hopefully continue to see some companies making progress even as we head into even more uncertain times. But the signs don’t look good. One question that I have going forward is how a seemingly inevitable US slowdown on climate technology will ripple around the rest of the world. Several experts I’ve spoken with seem to agree that this will be a great thing for China, which has aggressively and consistently worked to establish itself as a global superpower in industries like EVs and batteries. In other words, the energy transition is rolling on. Will the US get left behind?  This article is from The Spark, MIT Technology Review’s weekly climate newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Wednesday, sign up here.

Organizations are deepening their cloud investments at an unprecedented pace, recognizing its fundamental role in driving business agility and innovation. Synergy Research Group reports that companies spent $84 billion worldwide on cloud infrastructure services in the third quarter of 2024, a 23% rise over the third quarter of 2023 and the fourth consecutive quarter in which the year-on-year growth rate has increased. DOWNLOAD THE REPORT Allowing users to access IT systems from anywhere in the world, cloud services also ensure solutions remain highly configurable and automated. At the same time, hosted services like generative AI and tailored industry solutions can help companies quickly launch applications and grow the business. To get the most out of these services, companies are turning to cloud optimization—the process of selecting and allocating cloud resources to reduce costs while maximizing performance. But despite all the interest in the cloud, many workloads remain stranded on-premises, and many more are not optimized for efficiency and growth, greatly limiting the forward momentum. Companies are missing out on a virtuous cycle of mutually reinforcing results that comes from even more efficient use of the cloud. Organizations can enhance security, make critical workloads more resilient, protect the customer experience, boost revenues, and generate cost savings. These benefits can fuel growth and avert expenses, generating capital that can be invested in innovation. “Cloud optimization involves making sure that your cloud spending is efficient so you’re not spending wastefully,” says André Dufour, Director and General Manager for AWS Cloud Optimization at Amazon Web Services. “But you can’t think of it only as cost savings at the expense of other things. Dollars freed up through optimization can be redirected to fund net new innovations, like generative AI.” This content was produced by Insights, the custom content arm of MIT Technology Review. It was not written by MIT Technology Review’s editorial staff. This content was researched, designed, and written entirely by human writers, editors, analysts, and illustrators. This includes the writing of surveys and collection of data for surveys. AI tools that may have been used were limited to secondary production processes that passed thorough human review.

This is today’s edition of The Download, our weekday newsletter that provides a daily dose of what’s going on in the world of technology. Inside the controversial tree farms powering Apple’s carbon neutral goal “We were losing the light, and still about 20 kilometers from the main road, when the car shuddered and died at the edge of a strange forest.  The grove grew as if indifferent to certain unspoken rules of botany. There was no understory, no foreground or background, only the trees themselves, which grew as a wall of bare trunks that rose 100 feet or so before concluding with a burst of thick foliage near the top. The rows of trees ran perhaps the length of a New York City block and fell away abruptly on either side into untidy fields of dirt and grass. The vista recalled the husk of a failed condo development, its first apartments marooned when the builders ran out of cash.” This is the opening to our latest Big Story, which we are excited to share today. It’s all about how Apple (and its peers) are planting vast forests of eucalyptus trees in Brazil to try to offset their climate emissions, striking some of the largest-ever deals for carbon credits in the process.  The big question is: Can Latin America’s eucalyptus be a scalable climate solution? Read the full story. —Gregory Barber This article is part of the Big Story series: MIT Technology Review’s most important, ambitious reporting that takes a deep look at the technologies that are coming next and what they will mean for us and the world we live in. Check out the rest of them here. The vibes are shifting for US climate tech The past few years have been an almost nonstop parade of good news for climate tech in the US. Headlines about billion-dollar grants from the government, massive private funding rounds, and labs churning out advance after advance have been routine. Now, though, things are starting to shift.   About $8 billion worth of US climate tech projects have been canceled or downsized so far in 2025. There are still projects moving forward, but these cancellations definitely aren’t a good sign. So, how worried should we be? Read the full story.—Casey Crownhart This article is from The Spark, MIT Technology Review’s weekly climate newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Wednesday, sign up here. The must-reads I’ve combed the internet to find you today’s most fun/important/scary/fascinating stories about technology. 1 Elon Musk had a shouting match with the US Treasury Secretary  Scott Bessent did not take DOGE meddling with the IRS lying down. (Axios)+ Musk announced he’d spend less time on government work shortly afterwards. (WP $)+ What has the agency achieved in its first 100 days? Chaos. (Reuters) 2 Trump’s tariffs are disrupting production of vital medical devicesOf everything from MRI scanners to glucose monitors. (FT $)+ The tariffs aren’t good news for protective medical gear makers either. (NYT $) 3 Nvidia has released a new platform for building AI agents And unlike its rivals, it relies on open-source models to make them. (WSJ $)+ Nvidia has a very specific vision for how they’ll work. (The Register)+ Why handing over total control to AI agents would be a huge mistake. (MIT Technology Review)4 Even Mark Zuckerberg thinks social media isn’t what it was The question is, what comes next? (New Yorker $)+ Meta’s Oversight Board ruled that videos disparaging trans women aren’t hate speech. (WP $)+ How to fix the internet. (MIT Technology Review) 5 How AI can help programmers preserve aging computer codeGovernments across the world are using AI tools to modernize their systems. (Bloomberg $)+ The race to save our online lives from a digital dark age. (MIT Technology Review) 6 LinkedIn is rolling out its verification systemAdobe is among its first adoptees. (The Verge) 7 Google’s AI Overviews is making stuff up againThis time, it’s confidently claiming that made-up idioms are real. (Wired $)+ Why Google’s AI Overviews gets things wrong. (MIT Technology Review) 8 Reselling apps are flourishing in the USSavvy shoppers are dodging tariffs by shopping second-hand. (WP $)+ The end of ultra-cheap shopping is nigh. (Rest of World) 9 How to create a new colorOlo is a bit like teal—but it doesn’t technically exist. (The Atlantic $) 10 This Starbucks store is entirely 3D-printedThe coffee will still taste the same, though. (Fast Company $)+ Meet the designers printing houses out of salt and clay. (MIT Technology Review) Quote of the day “It went from a Cinderella story to Nightmare on Elm Street.” —Dan Ives, a Wedbush Securities analyst, tells the Financial Times why Elon Musk’s allegiance to Donald Trump has backfired for his businesses. One more thing How a tiny Pacific Island became the global capital of cybercrimeTokelau, a string of three isolated atolls strung out across the Pacific, is so remote that it was the last place on Earth to be connected to the telephone—only in 1997. Just three years later, the islands received a fax with an unlikely business proposal that would change everything.It was from an early internet entrepreneur from Amsterdam, named Joost Zuurbier. He wanted to manage Tokelau’s country-code top-level domain, or ccTLD—the short string of characters that is tacked onto the end of a URL—in exchange for money.In the succeeding years, tiny Tokelau became an unlikely internet giant—but not in the way it may have hoped. Until recently, its .tk domain had more users than any other country’s: a staggering 25 million—but the vast majority were spammers, phishers, and cybercriminals.Now the territory is desperately trying to clean up .tk. Its international standing, and even its sovereignty, may depend on it. Read the full story. —Jacob Judah We can still have nice things A place for comfort, fun and distraction to brighten up your day. (Got any ideas? Drop me a line or skeet ’em at me.) + An almond and potato cake? You’ve got my attention.+ When you get a tattoo, where does the ink go?+ The latest season of Black Mirror was filmed almost entirely in the UK.+ Lenny Kravitz’s Parisian home is incredibly chic.

We were losing the light, and still about 20 kilometers from the main road, when the car shuddered and died at the edge of a strange forest.  The grove grew as if indifferent to certain unspoken rules of botany. There was no understory, no foreground or background, only the trees themselves, which grew as a wall of bare trunks that rose 100 feet or so before concluding with a burst of thick foliage near the top. The rows of trees ran perhaps the length of a New York City block and fell away abruptly on either side into untidy fields of dirt and grass. The vista recalled the husk of a failed condo development, its first apartments marooned when the builders ran out of cash. Standing there against the setting sun, the trees were, in their odd way, also rather stunning. I had no service out here—we had just left a remote nature preserve in southwestern Brazil—but I reached for my phone anyway, for a picture. The concern on the face of my travel partner, Clariana Vilela Borzone, a geographer and translator who grew up nearby, flicked to amusement. My camera roll was already full of eucalyptus. The trees sprouted from every hillside, along every road, and more always seemed to be coming. Across the dirt path where we were stopped, another pasture had been cleared for planting. The sparse bushes and trees that had once shaded cattle in the fields had been toppled and piled up, as if in a Pleistocene gravesite.  Borzone’s friends and neighbors were divided on the aesthetics of these groves. Some liked the order and eternal verdancy they brought to their slice of the Cerrado, a large botanical region that arcs diagonally across Brazil’s midsection. Its native savanna landscape was largely gnarled, low-slung, and, for much of the year, rather brown. And since most of that flora had been cleared decades ago for cattle pasture, it was browner and flatter still. Now that land was becoming trees. It was becoming beautiful.  Some locals say they like the order and eternal verdancy of the eucalyptus, which often stand in stark contrast to the Cerrado’s native savanna landscape.PABLO ALBARENGA Others considered this beauty a mirage. “Green deserts,” they called the groves, suggesting bounty from afar but holding only dirt and silence within. These were not actually forests teeming with animals and undergrowth, they charged, but at best tinder for a future megafire in a land parched, in part, by their vigorous growth. This was in fact a common complaint across Latin America: in Chile, the planted rows of eucalyptus were called the “green soldiers.” It was easy to imagine getting lost in the timber, a funhouse mirror of trunks as far as the eye could see. The timber companies that planted these trees push back on these criticisms as caricatures of a genus that’s demonized all over the world. They point to their sustainable forestry certifications and their handsome spending on fire suppression, and to the microphones they’ve placed that record cacophonies of birds and prove the groves are anything but barren. Whether people like the look of these trees or not, they are meeting a human need, filling an insatiable demand for paper and pulp products all over the world. Much of the material for the world’s toilet and tissue paper is grown in Brazil, and that, they argue, is a good thing: Grow fast and furious here, as responsibly as possible, to save many more trees elsewhere.  But I was in this region for a different reason: Apple. And also Microsoft and Meta and TSMC, and many smaller technology firms too. I was here because tech executives many thousands of miles away were racing toward, and in some cases stumbling, on their way to meet their climate promises—too little time, and too much demand for new devices and AI data centers. Not far from here, they had struck some of the largest-ever deals for carbon credits. They were asking something new of this tree: Could Latin America’s eucalyptus be a scalable climate solution?  On a practical level, the answer seemed straightforward. Nobody disputed how swiftly or reliably eucalyptus could grow in the tropics. This knowledge was the product of decades of scientific study and tabulations of biomass for wood or paper. Each tree was roughly 47% carbon, which meant that many tons of it could be stored within every planted hectare. This could be observed taking place in real time, in the trees by the road. Come back and look at these young trees tomorrow, and you’d see it: fresh millimeters of carbon, chains of cellulose set into lignin.  At the same time, Apple and the others were also investing in an industry, and a tree, with a long and controversial history in this part of Brazil and elsewhere. They were exerting their wealth and technological oversight to try to make timber operations more sustainable, more supportive of native flora, and less water intensive. Still, that was a hard sell to some here, where hundreds of thousands of hectares of pasture are already in line for planting; more trees were a bleak prospect in a land increasingly racked by drought and fire. Critics called the entire exercise an excuse to plant even more trees for profit.  Borzone and I did not plan to stay and watch the eucalyptus grow. Garden or forest or desert, ally or antagonist—it did not matter much with the emerging stars of the Southern Cross and our gas tank empty. We gathered our things from our car and set off down the dirt road through the trees. A big promise My journey into the Cerrado had begun months earlier, in the fall of 2023, when the actress Octavia Spencer appeared as Mother Nature in an ad alongside Apple CEO Tim Cook. In 2020, the company had set a goal to go “net zero” by the end of the decade, at which point all of its products—laptops, CPUs, phones, earbuds—would be produced without increasing the level of carbon in the atmosphere. “Who wants to disappoint me first?” Mother Nature asked with a sly smile. It was a third of the way to 2030—a date embraced by many corporations aiming to stay in line with the UN’s goal of limiting warming to 1.5 °C over preindustrial levels—and where was the progress? Apple CEO Tim Cook stares down Octavia Spencer as “Mother Nature” in their ad spot touting the company’s claims for carbon neutrality.APPLE VIA YOUTUBE Cook was glad to inform her of the good news: The new Apple Watch was leading the way. A limited supply of the devices were already carbon neutral, thanks to things like recycled materials and parts that were specially sent by ship—not flown—from one factory to another. These special watches were labeled with a green leaf on Apple’s iconically soft, white boxes. Critics were quick to point out that declaring an individual product “carbon neutral” while the company was still polluting had the whiff of an early victory lap, achieved with some convenient accounting. But the work on the watch spoke to the company’s grand ambitions. Apple claimed that changes like procuring renewable power and using recycled materials had enabled it to cut emissions 75% since 2015. “We’re always prioritizing reductions; they’ve got to come first,” Chris Busch, Apple’s director of environmental initiatives, told me soon after the launch.  The company also acknowledged that it could not find reductions to balance all its emissions. But it was trying something new.  Since the 1990s, companies have purchased carbon credits based largely on avoiding emissions. Take some patch of forest that was destined for destruction and protect it; the stored carbon that wasn’t lost is turned into credits. But as the carbon market expanded, so did suspicion of carbon math—in some cases, because of fraud or bad science, but also because efforts to contain deforestation are often frustrated, with destruction avoided in one place simply happening someplace else. Corporations that once counted on carbon credits for “avoided” emissions can no longer trust them. (Many consumers feel they can’t either, with some even suing Apple over the ways it used past carbon projects to make its claims about the Apple Watch.) But that demand to cancel out carbon dioxide hasn’t gone anywhere—if anything, as AI-driven emissions knock some companies off track from reaching their carbon targets (and raise questions about the techniques used to claim emissions reductions), the need is growing. For Apple, even under the rosiest assumptions about how much it will continue to pollute, the gap is significant: In 2024, the company reported offsetting 700,000 metric tons of CO2, but the number it will need to hit in 2030 to meet its goals is 9.6 million.  So the new move is to invest in carbon “removal” rather than avoidance. The idea implies a more solid achievement: taking carbon molecules out of the atmosphere. There are many ways to attempt that, from trying to change the pH of the oceans so that they absorb more of the molecules to building machines that suck carbon straight out of the air. But these are long-term fixes. None of these technologies work at the scale and price that would help Apple and others meet their shorter-term targets. For that, trees have emerged again as the answer. This time the idea is to plant new ones instead of protecting old ones.  To expand those efforts in a way that would make a meaningful dent in emissions, Apple determined, it would also need to make carbon removal profitable. A big part of this effort would be driven by the Restore Fund, a $200 million partnership with Goldman Sachs and Conservation International, a US environmental nonprofit, to invest in “high quality” projects that promoted reforestation on degraded lands.   Profits would come from responsibly turning trees into products, Goldman’s head of sustainability explained when the fund was announced in 2021. But it was also an opportunity for Apple, and future investors, to “almost look at, touch, and feel their carbon,” he said—a concreteness that carbon credits had previously failed to offer. “The aim is to generate real, measurable carbon benefits, but to do that alongside financial returns,” Busch told me. It was intended as a flywheel of sorts: more investors, more planting, more carbon—an approach to climate action that looked to abundance rather than sacrifice. Apple markets its watch as a carbon-neutral product, based in part on the use of carbon credits. The announcement of the carbon-neutral Apple Watch was the occasion to promote the Restore Fund’s three initial investments, which included a native forestry project as well as eucalyptus farms in Paraguay and Brazil. The Brazilian timber plans were by far the largest in scale, and were managed by BTG Pactual, Latin America’s largest investment bank.  Busch connected me with Mark Wishnie, head of sustainability for Timberland Investment Group, BTG’s US-based subsidiary, which acquires and manages properties on behalf of institutional investors. After years in the eucalyptus business, Wishnie, who lives in Seattle, was used to strong feelings about the tree. It’s just that kind of plant—heralded as useful, even ornamental; demonized as a fire starter, water-intensive, a weed. “Has the idea that eucalyptus is invasive come up?” he asked pointedly. (It’s an “exotic” species in Brazil, yes, but the risk of invasiveness is low for the varieties most commonly planted for forestry.) He invited detractors to consider the alternative to the scale and efficiency of eucalyptus, which, he pointed out, relieves the pressure that humans put on beloved old-growth forests elsewhere.  Using eucalyptus for carbon removal also offered a new opportunity. Wishnie was overseeing a planned $1 billion initiative that was set to transform BTG’s timber portfolio; it aimed at a 50-50 split between timber and native restoration on old pastureland, with an emphasis on connecting habitats along rivers and streams. As a “high quality” project, it was meant to do better than business as usual. The conservation areas would exceed the legal requirements for native preservation in Brazil, which range from 20% to 35% in the Cerrado. In a part of Brazil that historically gets little conservation attention, it would potentially represent the largest effort yet to actually bring back the native landscape.  When BTG approached Conservation International with the 50% figure, the organization thought it was “too good to be true,” Miguel Calmon, the senior director of the nonprofit’s Brazilian programs, told me. With the restoration work paid for by the green financing and the sale of carbon credits, scale and longevity could be achieved. “Some folks may do this, but they never do this as part of the business,” he said. “It comes from not a corporate responsibility. It’s about, really, the business that you can optimize.” So far, BTG has raised $630 million for the initiative and earmarked 270,000 hectares, an area more than double the city of Los Angeles. The first farm in the plan, located on a 24,000-hectare cattle ranch, was called Project Alpha. The location, Wishnie said, was confidential.  “We talk about restoration as if it’s a thing that happens,” Mark Wishnie said, promoting BTG’s plans to intermingle new farms alongside native preserves.COURTESY OF BTG But a property of that size sticks out, even in a land of large farms. It didn’t take very much digging into municipal land records in the Brazilian state of Mato Grosso do Sul, where many of the company’s Cerrado holdings are located, to turn up a recently sold farm that matched the size. It was called Fazenda Engano, or “Deception Farm”—hence the rebrand. The land was registered to an LLC with links to holding companies for other BTG eucalyptus plantations located in a neighboring region that locals had taken to calling the Cellulose Valley for its fast-expanding tree farms and pulp factories.   The area was largely seen as a land of opportunity, even as some locals had raised the alarm over concerns that the land couldn’t handle the trees. They had allies in prominent ecologists who have long questioned the wisdom of tree-planting in the Cerrado—and increasingly spar with other conservationists who see great potential in turning pasture into forest. The fight has only gotten more heated as more investors hunt for new climate solutions.  Still, where Apple goes, others often follow. And when it comes to sustainability, other companies look to it as a leader. I wasn’t sure if I could visit Project Alpha and see whether Apple and its partners had really found a better way to plant, but I started making plans to go to the Cerrado anyway, to see the forests behind those little green leaves on the box.  Complex calculations In 2015, a study by Thomas Crowther, an ecologist then at ETH Zürich, attempted a census of global tree cover, finding more than 3 trillion trees in all. A useful number, surprisingly hard to divine, like counting insects or bacteria.  A follow-up study a few years later proved more controversial: Earth’s surface held space for at least 1 trillion more trees. That represented a chance to store 200 metric gigatons, or about 25%, of atmospheric carbon once they matured. (The paper was later corrected in multiple ways, including an acknowledgment that the carbon storage potential could be about one-third less.) The study became a media sensation, soon followed by a fleet of tree-planting initiatives with “trillion” in the name—most prominently through a World Economic Forum effort launched by Salesforce CEO Marc Benioff at Davos, which President Donald Trump pledged to support during his first term.  But for as long as tree planting has been heralded as a good deed—from Johnny Appleseed to programs that promise a tree for every shoe or laptop purchased—the act has also been chased closely by a follow-up question: How many of those trees survive? Consider Trump’s most notable planting, which placed an oak on the White House grounds in 2018. It died just over a year later.  During President Donald Trump’s first term, he and French President Emmanuel Macron planted an oak on the South Lawn of the White House.CHIP SOMODEVILLA/GETTY IMAGES To critics, including Bill Gates, the efforts were symbolic of short-term thinking at the expense of deeper efforts to cut or remove carbon. (Gates’s spat with Benioff descended to name-calling in the New York Times. “Are we the science people or are we the idiots?” he asked.) The lifespan of a tree, after all, is brief—a pit stop—compared with the thousand-year carbon cycle, so its progeny must carry the torch to meaningfully cancel out emissions. Most don’t last that long.  “The number of trees planted has become a kind of currency, but it’s meaningless,” Pedro Brancalion, a professor of tropical forestry at the University of São Paulo, told me. He had nothing against the trees, which the world could, in general, use a lot more of. But to him, a lot of efforts were riding more on “good vibes” than on careful strategy.  Soon after arriving in São Paulo last summer, I drove some 150 miles into the hills outside the city to see the outdoor lab Brancalion has filled with experiments on how to plant trees better: trees given too many nutrients or too little; saplings monitored with wires and tubes like ICU admits, or skirted with tarps that snatch away rainwater. At the center of one of Brancalion’s plots stands a tower topped with a whirling station, the size of a hobby drone, monitoring carbon going in and out of the air (and, therefore, the nearby vegetation)—a molecular tango known as flux.  Brancalion works part-time for a carbon-focused restoration company, Re:Green, which had recently sold 3 million carbon credits to Microsoft and was raising a mix of native trees in parts of the Amazon and the Atlantic Forest. While most of the trees in his lab were native ones too, like jacaranda and brazilwood, he also studies eucalyptus. The lab in fact sat on a former eucalyptus farm; in the heart of his fields, a grove of 80-year-old trees dripped bark like molting reptiles.  To Pedro Brancalion, a lot of tree-planting efforts were riding more on “good vibes” than on careful strategy. He experiments with new ways to grow eucalyptus interspersed with native species.PABLO ALBARENGA Eucalyptus planting swelled dramatically under Brazil’s military dictatorship in the 1960s. The goal was self-sufficiency—a nation’s worth of timber and charcoal, quickly—and the expansion was fraught. Many opinions of the tree were forged in a spate of dubious land seizures followed by clearing of the existing vegetation—disputes that, in some places, linger to this day. Still, that campaign is also said to have done just as Wishnie described, easing the demand that would have been put on regions like the Amazon as Rio and São Paulo were built.  The new trees also laid the foundation for Brazil to become a global hub for engineered forestry; it’s currently home to about a third of the world’s farmed eucalyptus. Today’s saplings are the products of decades of tinkering with clonal breeding, growing quick and straight, resistant to pestilence and drought, with exacting growth curves that chart biomass over time: Seven years to maturity is standard for pulp. Trees planted today grow more than three times as fast as their ancestors.  If the goal is a trillion trees, or many millions of tons of carbon, no business is better suited to keeping count than timber. It might sound strange to claim carbon credits for trees that you plan to chop down and turn into toilet paper or chairs. Whatever carbon is stored in those ephemeral products is, of course, a blip compared with the millennia that CO2 hangs in the atmosphere.  But these carbon projects take a longer view. While individual trees may go, more trees are planted. The forest constantly regrows and recaptures carbon from the air. Credits are issued annually over decades, so long as the long-term average of the carbon stored in the grove continues to increase. What’s more, because the timber is constantly being tracked, the carbon is easy to measure, solving a key problem with carbon credits.  Most mature native ecosystems, whether tropical forests or grasslands, will eventually store more carbon than a tree farm. But that could take decades. Eucalyptus can be planted immediately, with great speed, and the first carbon credits are issued in just a few years. “It fits a corporate model very well, and it fits the verification model very well,” said Robin Chazdon, a forest researcher at Australia’s University of the Sunshine Coast. Today’s eucalyptus saplings—shown here in Brancalion’s lab—are the products of decades of tinkering with clonal breeding, growing quick and straight.PABLO ALBARENGA Reliability and stability have also made eucalyptus, as well as pine, quietly dominant in global planting efforts. A 2019 analysis published in Nature found that 45% of carbon removal projects the researchers studied worldwide involved single-species tree farms. In Brazil, the figure was 82%. The authors called this a “scandal,” accusing environmental organizations and financiers of misleading the public and pursuing speed and convenience at the expense of native restoration.   In 2023, the nonprofit Verra, the largest bearer of carbon credit standards, said it would forbid projects using “non-native monocultures”—that is, plants like eucalyptus or pine that don’t naturally grow in the places where they’re being farmed. The idea was to assuage concerns that carbon credits were going to plantations that would have been built anyway given the demand for wood, meaning they wouldn’t actually remove any extra carbon from the atmosphere. The uproar was immediate—from timber companies, but also from carbon developers and NGOs. How would it be possible to scale anything—conservation, carbon removal—without them? Verra reversed course several months later. It would allow non-native monocultures so long as they grew in land that was deemed “degraded,” or previously cleared of vegetation—land like cattle pasture. And it took steps to avoid counting plantings in close proximity to other areas of fast tree growth, the idea being that they wanted to avoid rewarding purely industrial projects that would’ve been planted anyway.  Despite potential benefits of intermixing them, foresters generally prefer to keep separate eucalyptus and native species.PABLO ALBARENGA Brancalion happened to agree with the criticisms of exotic monocultures. But all the same, he believed eucalyptus had been unfairly demonized. It was a marvelous genus, actually, with nearly 800 species with unique adaptations. Natives could be planted as monocultures too, or on stolen land, or tended with little care. He had been testing ways to turn eucalyptus from perceived foes into friends of native forest restoration. His idea was to use rows of eucalyptus, which rocket above native species, as a kind of stabilizer. While these natives can be valuable—either as lumber or for biodiversity—they may grow slowly, or twist in ways that make their wood unprofitable, or suddenly and inexplicably die. It’s never like that with eucalyptus, which are wonderfully predictable growers. Eventually, their harvested wood would help pay for the hard work of growing the others.  In practice, foresters have generally preferred to keep things separate. Eucalyptus here; restoration there. It was far more efficient. The approach was emblematic, Brancalion thought, of letting the economics of the industry guide what was planted, how, and where, even with green finance involved. Though he admitted he was speaking as something of a competitor given his own carbon work, he was perplexed by Apple’s choices. The world’s richest company was doing eucalyptus? And with a bank better known locally as a major investor in industries, like beef and soy, that contributed to deforestation than any efforts for native restoration. It also worried him to see the planting happening west of here, in the Cerrado, where land is cheaper and also, for much of the year, drier. “It’s like a bomb,” Brancalion told me. “You can come interview me in five, six years. You don’t have to be super smart to realize what will happen after planting too many eucalyptus in a dry region.” He wished me luck on my journey westward.    The sacrifice zone Savanna implies openness, but the European settlers passing through the Cerrado called it the opposite; the name literally means “closed.” Grasses and shrubs grow to chest height, scaled as if to maximize human inconvenience. A machete is advised.  As I headed with Borzone toward a small nature preserve called Parque do Pombo, she told me that young Brazilians are often raised with a sense of dislike, if not fear, of this land. When Borzone texted her mother, a local biologist, to say where we were going, she replied: “I hear that place is full of ticks.” (Her intel, it turned out, was correct.) At one point, even prominent ecologists, fearing total destruction of the Amazon, advocated moving industry to the Cerrado, invoking a myth about casting a cow into infested waters so that the other cows could ford downstream.PABLO ALBARENGA What can be easy to miss is the fantastic variety of these plants, the result of natural selection cranked into overdrive. Species, many of which blew in from the Amazon, survived by growing deep roots through the acidic soil and thicker bark to resist regular brush fires. Many of the trees developed the ability to shrivel upon themselves and drop their leaves during the long, dry winter. Some call it a forest that has grown upside down, because much of the growth occurs in the roots. The Cerrado is home to 12,000 flowering plant species, 4,000 of which are found only there. In terms of biodiversity, it is second in the world only to its more famous neighbor, the Amazon.  Pequi is an edible fruit-bearing tree common in the Cerrado—one of the many unique species native to the area.ADOBE STOCK Each stop on our drive seemed to yield a new treasure for Borzone to show me: Guavira, a tree that bears fruit in grape-like bunches that appear only two weeks in a year; it can be made into a jam that is exceptionally good on toast. Pequi, more divisive, like fermented mango mixed with cheese. Others bear names Borzone can only faintly recall in the Indigenous Guaraní language and is thus unable to google. Certain uses are more memorable: Give this one here, a tiny frond that looks like a miniature Christmas fir, to make someone get pregnant. Borzone had grown up in the heart of the savanna, and the land had changed significantly since she was a kid going to the river every weekend with her family. Since the 1970s, about half of the savanna has been cleared, mostly for ranching and, where the soil is good, soybeans. At that time, even prominent ecologists, fearing total destruction of the Amazon, advocated moving industry here, invoking what Brazilians call the boi de piranha—a myth about casting a cow into infested waters so that the other cows could ford downstream.  Toby Pennington, a Cerrado ecologist at the University of Exeter, told me it remains a sacrificial zone, at times faring worse when environmentally minded politicians are in power. In 2023, when deforestation fell by half in the Amazon, it rose by 43% in the Cerrado. Some ecologists warn that this ecosystem could be entirely gone in the next decade. Perhaps unsurprisingly, there’s a certain prickliness among grassland researchers, who are, like their chosen flora, used to being trampled. In 2019, 46 of them authored a response in Science to Crowther’s trillion-trees study, arguing not about tree counting but about the land he proposed for reforestation. Much of it, they argued, including places like the Cerrado, was not appropriate for so many trees. It was too much biomass for the land to handle. (If their point was not already clear, the scientists later labeled the phenomenon “biome awareness disparity,” or BAD.) “It’s a controversial ecosystem,” said Natashi Pilon, a grassland ecologist at the University of Campinas near São Paulo. “With Cerrado, you have to forget everything that you learn about ecology, because it’s all based in forest ecology. In the Cerrado, everything works the opposite way. Burning? It’s good. Shade? It’s not good.” The Cerrado contains a vast range of landscapes, from grassy fields to wooded forests, but the majority of it is poorly suited to certain rules of carbon finance, she explained, that would incentivize people to protect or restore it. While the underground forest stores plenty of carbon, it builds up its stock slowly and can be difficult to measure.  The result is a slightly uncomfortable position for ecologists studying and trying to protect a vanishing landscape. Pilon and her former academic advisor, Giselda Durigan, a Cerrado ecologist at the Environmental Research Institute of the State of São Paulo and one of the scientists behind BAD, have gotten accustomed to pushing back on people who arrived preaching “improvement” through trees—first from nonprofits, mostly of the trillion-trees variety, but now from the timber industry. “They are using the carbon discourse as one more argument to say that business is great,” Durigan told me. “They are happy to be seen as the good guys.”  Durigan saw tragedy in the way that Cerrado had been transformed into cattle pasture in just a generation, but there was also opportunity in restoring it once the cattle left. Bringing the Cerrado back would be hard work—usually requiring fire and hacking away at invasive grasses. But even simply leaving it alone could allow the ecosystem to begin to repair itself and offer something like the old savanna habitat. Abandoned eucalyptus farms, by contrast, were nightmares to return to native vegetation; the strange Cerrado plants refused to take root in the highly modified soil.  In recent years, Durigan had visited hundreds of eucalyptus farms in the area, shadowing her students who had been hired by timber companies to help establish promised corridors of native vegetation in accordance with federal rules. “They’re planting entire watersheds,” she said. “The rivers are dying.”  Durigan saw plants in isolated patches growing taller than they normally would, largely thanks to the suppression of regular brush fires. They were throwing shade on the herbs and grasses and drawing more water. The result was an environment gradually choking on itself, at risk of collapse during drought and retaining only a fraction of the Cerrado’s original diversity. If this was what people meant by bringing back the Cerrado, she believed it was only hastening its ultimate disappearance.  In a recent survey of the watershed around the Parque do Pombo, which is hemmed in on each side by eucalyptus, two other researchers reported finding “devastation” and turned to Plato’s description of Attica’s forests, cleared to build the city of Athens: “What remains now compared to what existed is like the skeleton of a sick man … All the rich and soft soil has dissolved, leaving the country of skin and bones.”  A highway runs through the Cellulose Valley, connecting commercial eucalyptus farms and pulp factories.PABLO ALBARENGA After a long day of touring the land—and spinning out on the clay—we found that our fuel was low. The Parque do Pombo groundskeeper looked over at his rusting fuel tank and apologized. It had been spoiled by the last rain. At least, he said, it was all downhill to the highway.  The road of opportunity We only made it about halfway down the eucalyptus-lined road. After the car huffed and left us stranded, Borzone and I started walking toward the highway, anticipating a long night. We remembered locals’ talk of jaguars recently pushed into the area by development.  But after only 30 minutes or so, a set of lights came into view across the plain. Then another, and another. Then the outline of a tractor, a small tanker truck, and, somewhat curiously, a tour bus. The gear and the vehicles bore the logo of Suzano, the world’s largest pulp and paper company. After talking to a worker, we boarded the empty tour bus and were taken to a cluster of spotlit tents, where women prepared eucalyptus seedlings, stacking crates of them on white fold-out tables. A night shift like this one was unusual. But they were working around the clock—aiming to plant a million trees per day across Suzano’s farms, in preparation for opening the world’s largest pulp factory just down the highway. It would open in a few weeks with a capacity of 2.55 million metric tons of pulp per year.  Eucalyptus has become the region’s new lifeblood. “I’m going to plant some eucalyptus / I’ll get rich and you’ll fall in love with me,” sings a local country duo. PABLO ALBARENGA The tour bus was standing by to take the workers down the highway at 1 a.m., arriving in the nearest city, Três Lagoas, by 3 a.m. to pick up the next shift. “You don’t do this work without a few birds at home to feed,” a driver remarked as he watched his colleagues filling holes in the field by the light of their headlamps. After getting permission from his boss, he drove us an hour each way to town to the nearest gas station. This highway through the Cellulose Valley has become known as a road of opportunity, with eucalyptus as the region’s new lifeblood after the cattle industry shrank its footprint. Not far from the new Suzano factory, a popular roadside attraction is an oversize sculpture of a black bull at the gates of a well-known ranch. The ranch was recently planted, and the bull is now guarded by a phalanx of eucalyptus.  On TikTok, workers post selfies and views from tractors in the nearby groves, backed by a song from the local country music duo Jads e Jadson. “I’m going to plant some eucalyptus / I’ll get rich and you’ll fall in love with me,” sings a down-on-his-luck man at risk of losing his fiancée. Later, when he cuts down the trees and becomes a wealthy man with better options, he cuts off his betrothed, too.  The race to plant more eucalyptus here is backed heavily by the state government, which last year waived environmental requirements for new farms on pasture and hopes to quickly double its area in just a few years. The trees were an important component of Brazil’s plan to meet its global climate commitments, and the timber industry was keen to cash in. Companies like Suzano have already proposed that tens of thousands of their hectares become eligible for carbon credits.  What’s top of mind for everyone, though, is worsening fires. Even when we visited in midwinter, the weather was hot and dry. The wider region was in a deep drought, perhaps the worst in 700 years, and in a few weeks, one of the worst fire seasons ever would begin. Suzano would be forced to make a rare pause in its planting when soil temperatures reached 154 °F.  Posted along the highway are constant reminders of the coming danger: signs, emblazoned with the logos of a dozen timber companies, that read “FOGO ZERO,” or “ZERO FIRE.”  The race to plant more eucalyptus is backed heavily by the state government, which hopes to quickly double its area in just a few years.PABLO ALBARENGA In other places struck by megafires, like Portugal and Chile, eucalyptus has been blamed for worsening the flames. (The Chilean government has recently excluded pine and eucalyptus farms from its climate plans.) But here in Brazil, where climate change is already supersizing the blazes, the industry offers sophisticated systems to detect and suppress fires, argued Calmon of Conservation International. “You really need to protect it because that’s your asset,” he said. (BTG also noted that in parts of the Cerrado where human activity has increased, fires have decreased.)  Eucalyptus is often portrayed as impossibly thirsty compared with other trees, but Calmon pointed out it is not uniquely so. In some parts of the Cerrado, it has been found to consume four times as much water as native vegetation; in others, the two landscapes have been roughly in line. It depends on many factors—what type of soil it’s planted in, what Cerrado vegetation coexists with it, how intensely the eucalyptus is farmed. Timber companies, which have no interest in seeing their own plantations run dry, invest heavily in managing water. Another hope, Wishnie told me, is that by vastly increasing the forest canopy, the new eucalyptus will actually gather moisture and help produce rain.  Marine Dubos-Raoul has tracked waves of planting in the Cerrado for years and has spoken to residents who worry about how the trees strain local water supplies.PABLO ALBARENGA That’s a common narrative and one that’s been taught in schools here in Três Lagoas for decades, Borzone explained when we met up the day after our rescue with Marine Dubos-Raoul, a local geographer and university professor, and two of her students. Dubos-Raoul laughed uneasily. If this idea about rain was in fact true, they hadn’t seen it here. They crouched around the table at the cafe, speaking in a hush; their opinions weren’t particularly popular in this lumber town. Dubos-Raoul had long tracked the impacts of the waves of planting on longtime rural residents, who complained that industry had taken their water or sprayed their gardens with pesticides.  The evidence tying the trees to water problems in the region, Dubos-Raoul admitted, is more anecdotal than data driven. But she heard it in conversation after conversation. “People would have tears in their eyes,” she said. “It was very clear to them that it was connected to the arrival of the eucalyptus.” (Since our meeting, a study, carried out in response to demands from local residents, has blamed the planting for 350 depleted springs in the area, sparking a rare state inquiry into the issue.) In any case, Dubos-Raoul thought, it didn’t make much sense to keep adding matches to the tinderbox. Shortly after talking with Dubos-Raoul, we ventured to the town of Ribas do Rio Pardo to meet Charlin Castro at his family’s river resort. Suzano’s new pulp factory stood on the horizon, surrounded by one of the densest areas of planting in the region.  The Suzano pulp factory—the world’s largest—has pulled the once-sleepy town of Ribas do Rio Pardo into the bustling hub of Brazil’s eucalyptus industry.PABLO ALBARENGA Charlin Castro, his father Camilo, and other locals talk about how the area around the family’s river resort has changed since eucalyptus came to town. The public area for bathing on the far side of the shrinking river was closed after the Suzano pulp factory was installed. Charlin and Camilo admit they aren’t exactly sure what is causing low water levels—maybe it’s silt, maybe it’s the trees.PABLO ALBARENGA With thousands of workers arriving, mostly temporarily, to build the factory and plant the fields, the sleepy farming village had turned into a boomtown, and developed something of a lawless reputation—prostitution, homelessness, collisions between logging trucks and drunk drivers—and Castro was chronicling much of it for a hyperlocal Instagram news outlet, while also running for city council.  But overall, he was thankful to Suzano. The factory was transforming the town into a “a real place,” as he put it, even if change was at times painful.  His father, Camilo, gestured with a sinewy arm over to the water, where he recalled boat races involving canoes with crews of a dozen. That was 30 years ago. It was impossible to imagine now as I watched a family cool off in this bend in the river, the water just knee deep. But it’s hard to say what exactly is causing the low water levels. Perhaps it’s silt from the ranches, Charlin suggested. Or a change in the climate. Or, maybe, it could be the trees.  Upstream, Ana Claudia (who goes by “Tica”) and Antonio Gilberto Lima were more certain what was to blame. The couple, who are in their mid-60s, live in a simple brick house surrounded by fruit trees. They moved there a decade ago, seeking a calm retirement—one of a hundred or so families taking part in land reforms that returned land to smallholders. But recently, life has been harder. To preserve their well, they had let their vegetable garden go to seed. Streams were dry, and the old pools in the pastures where they used to fish were gone, replaced by trees; tapirs were rummaging through their garden, pushed, they believed, by lack of habitat.  Ana Cláudia and Antonio Gilberto Lima have seen their land struggle since eucalyptus plantations took over the region.PABLO ALBARENGA Plants attacked by hungry insects at their home. Pollinators like these stingless bees must fly greater distances to collect pollen they need when faced with a lack of variety of native plant species. They were surrounded by eucalyptus, planted in waves with the arrival of each new factory. No one was listening, they told me, as the cattle herd bellowed outside the door. “The trees are sad,” Gilberto said, looking out over his few dozen pale-humped animals grazing around scattered Cerrado species left in the paddock. Tica told me she knew that paper and pulp had to come from somewhere, and that many people locally were benefiting. But the downsides were getting overlooked, she thought. They had signed a petition to the government, organized by Dubos-Raoul, seeking to rein in the industry. Perhaps, she hoped, it could reach American investors, too.  The green halo  A few weeks before my trip, BTG had decided it was ready to show off Project Alpha. The visit was set for my last day in Brazil; the farm formerly known as Fazenda Engano was further upriver in Camapuã, a town that borders Ribas do Rio Pardo. It was a long, circuitous drive north to get out there, but it wouldn’t be that way much longer; a new highway was being paved that would directly connect the two towns, part of an initiative between the timber industry and government to expand the cellulose hub northward. A local official told me he expected tens of thousands of hectares of eucalyptus in the next few years. For now, though, it was still the frontier. The intention was to plant “well outside the forest sector,” Wishnie told me—not directly in the shadow of a mill, but close enough for the operation to be practical, with access to labor and logistics. That distance was important evidence that the trees would store more carbon than what’s accounted for in a business-as-usual scenario. The other guarantee was the restoration. It wasn’t good business to buy land and not plant every acre you could with timber. It was made possible only with green investments from Apple and others. That morning, Wishnie had emailed me a press release announcing that Microsoft had joined Apple in seeking help from BTG to help meet its carbon demands. The technology giant had made the largest-ever purchase of carbon credits, representing 8 million tons of CO2, from Project Alpha, following smaller commitments from TSMC and Murata, two of Apple’s suppliers.  I was set to meet Carlos Guerreiro, head of Latin American operations for BTG’s timber subsidiary, at a gas station in town, where we would set off together for the 24,000-hectare property. A forester in Brazil for much of his life, he had flown in from his home near São Paulo early that morning; he planned to check out the progress of the planting at Project Alpha and then swing down to the bank’s properties across the Cellulose Valley, where BTG was finalizing a $376 million deal to sell land to Suzano.  BTG plans to mix preserves of native restoration and eucalyptus farms and eventually reach a 50-50 mix on their properties.COURTESY OF BTG Guerreiro defended BTG’s existing holdings as sustainable engines of development in the region. But all the same, Project Alpha felt like a new beginning for the company, he told me. About a quarter of this property had been left untouched when the pasture was first cleared in the 1980s, but the plan now was to restore an additional 13% of the property to native Cerrado plants, bringing the total to 37%. (BTG says it will protect more land on future farms to arrive at its 50-50 target.) Individual patches of existing native vegetation would be merged with others around the property, creating a 400-meter corridor that largely followed the streams and rivers—beyond the 60 meters required by law.  The restoration work was happening with the help of researchers from a Brazilian university, though they were still testing the best methods. We stood over trenches that had been planted with native seeds just weeks before, shoots only starting to poke out of the dirt. Letting the land regenerate on its own was often preferable, Guerreiro told me, but the best approach would depend on the specifics of each location. In other places, assistance with planting or tending or clearing back the invasive grasses could be better.  The approach of largely letting things be was already yielding results, he noted: In parts of the property that hadn’t been grazed in years, they could already see the hardscrabble Cerrado clawing back with a vengeance. They’d been marveling at the fauna, caught on camera traps: tapirs, anteaters, all kinds of birds. They had even spotted a jaguar. The project would ensure that this growth would continue for decades. The land wouldn’t be sold to another rancher and go back to looking like other parts of the property, which were regularly cleared of native habitat. The hope, he said, was that over time the regenerating ecosystems would store more carbon, and generate more credits, than the eucalyptus. (The company intends to submit its carbon plans to Verra later this year.) We stopped for lunch at the dividing line between the preserve and the eucalyptus, eating ham sandwiches in the shade of the oldest trees on the property, already two stories tall and still, by Guerreiro’s estimate, putting on a centimeter per day. He was planting at a rate of 40,000 seedlings per day in neat trenches filled with white lime to make the sandy Cerrado soil more inviting. In seven years or so, half of the trees will be thinned and pulped. The rest will keep growing. They’ll stand for seven years longer and grow thick and firm enough for plywood. The process will then start anew. Guerreiro described a model where clusters of farms mixed with preserves like this one will be planted around mills throughout the Cerrado. But nothing firm had been decided. “Under no circumstances should planting eucalyptus ever be considered a viable project to receive carbon credits in the Cerrado,” said Lucy Rowland, an expert on the region at the University of Exeter.PABLO ALBARENGA This experiment, Wishnie told me later, could have a big payoff. The important thing, he reminded me, was that stretches of the Cerrado would be protected at a scale no one had achieved before—something that wouldn’t happen without eucalyptus. He strongly disagreed with the scientists who said eucalyptus didn’t fit here. The government had analyzed the watershed, he explained, and he was confident the land could support the trees. At the end of the day, the choice was between doing something and doing nothing. “We talk about restoration as if it’s a thing that happens,” he said.  When I asked Pilon to take a look at satellite imagery and photos of the property, she was unimpressed. It looked to her like yet another misguided attempt at planting trees in an area that had once naturally been a dense savanna. (Her assessment is supported by a land survey from the 1980s that classified this land as a typical Cerrado ecosystem—some trees, but mostly shrubbery. BTG responded that the survey was incorrect and the satellite images clearly showed a closed-canopy forest.)  As Lucy Rowland, an expert on the region at the University of Exeter and another BAD signatory, put it: “Under no circumstances should planting eucalyptus ever be considered a viable project to receive carbon credits in the Cerrado.”  Over months of reporting, the way that both sides spoke in absolutes about how to save this vanishing ecosystem had become familiar. Chazdon, the Australia-based forest researcher, told me she too felt that the tenor of the argument over how and where to grow has become more vehement as demand for tree-based carbon removal has intensified. “Nobody’s a villain,” she said. “There are disconnects on both sides.” Chazdon had been excited to hear about BTG’s project. It was, she thought, the type of thing that was sorely needed in conservation—mixing profitable enterprises with an approach to restoration that considers the wider landscape. “I can understand why the Cerrado ecologists are up in arms,” she said. “They get the feeling that nobody cares about their ecosystems.” But demands for ecological purity could indeed get in the way of doing much of anything—especially in places like the Cerrado, where laws and financing favor destruction over restoration.  Still, thinking about the scale of the carbon removal problem, she considered it sensible to wonder about the future that was being hatched. While there is, in fact, a limit to how much additional land the world needs for pulp and plywood products in the near future, there is virtually no limit to how much land it could devote to sequestering carbon. Which means we need to ask hard questions about the best way to use it.  More eucalyptus may be good to make claims about greener paper products, but some argue it’s harder to do for laptops and smart watches and ChatGPT queries.PABLO ALBARENGA It was true, Chazdon said, that planting eucalyptus in the Cerrado was an act of destruction—it’d make that land nearly impossible to recover. The areas preserved in between them would also likely struggle to fully renew itself, without fire or clearing. She would feel more comfortable with such large-scale projects if the bar for restoration were much higher—say, 75% or more. But that almost certainly wouldn’t satisfy her grassland colleagues who don’t want any eucalyptus at all. And it might not fit the profit model—the flywheel that Apple and others are seeking in order to scale up carbon removal fast.  Barbara Haya, who studies carbon offsets at the University of California, Berkeley, encouraged me to think about all of it differently. The improvements to planting eucalyptus here, at this farm, could be a perfectly good thing for this industry, she said. Perhaps they merit some claim about greener toilet paper or plywood. Haya would leave that debate to the ecologists. But we weren’t talking about toilet paper or plywood. We were talking about laptops and smart watches and ChatGPT. And the path to connecting those things to these trees was more convoluted. The carbon had to be disentangled first from the wood’s other profitable uses and then from the wider changes that were happening in this region and its industries. There seemed to be many plausible scenarios for where this land was heading. Was eucalyptus the only feasible route for carbon to find its way here?  Haya is among the experts who argue that the idea of precisely canceling out corporate emissions to reach carbon neutrality is a broken one. That’s not to say protecting nature can’t help fight climate change. Conserving existing forests and grasslands, for example, could often yield greater carbon and biodiversity benefits in the long run than planting new forests. But the carbon math used to justify those efforts was often fuzzier. This makes every claim of carbon neutrality fragile and drives companies toward projects that are easier to prove, she thinks, but perhaps have less impact.  One idea is that companies should instead shift to a “contribution” model that tracks how much money they put toward climate mitigation, without worrying about the exact amount of carbon removed. “Let’s say the goal is to save the Cerrado,” Haya said. “Could they put that same amount of money and really make a difference?” Such an approach, she pointed out, could help finance the preservation of those last intact Cerrado remnants. Or it could fund restoration, even if the restored vegetation takes years to grow or sometimes needs to burn.  The approach raises its own questions—about how to measure the impact of those investments and what kinds of incentives would motivate corporations to act. But it’s a vision that has gained more popularity as scrutiny of carbon credits grows and the options available to companies narrow. With the current state of the world, “what private companies do matters more than ever,” Haya told me. “We need them not to waste money.”  In the meantime, it’s up to the consumer reading the label to decide what sort of path we’re on.  “There’s nothing wrong with the trees,” geographer and translator Clariana Vilela Borzone said. “I have to remind myself of that.”PABLO ALBARENGA Before we left the farm, Borzone and I had one more task: to plant a tree. The sun was getting low over Project Alpha when I was handed an iron contraption that cradled a eucalyptus seedling, pulled from a tractor piled with plants.  “There’s nothing wrong with the trees,” Borzone had said earlier, squinting up at the row of 18-month-old eucalyptus, their fluttering leaves flashing in the hot wind as if in an ill-practiced burlesque show. “I have to remind myself of that.” But still it felt strange putting one in the ground. We were asking so much of it, after all. And we were poised to ask more. I squeezed the handle, pulling the iron hinge taut and forcing the plant deep into the soil. It poked out at a slight angle that I was sure someone else would need to fix later, or else this eucalyptus tree would grow askew. I was slow and clumsy in my work, and by the time I finished, the tractor was far ahead of us, impossibly small on the horizon. The worker grabbed the tool from my hand and headed toward it, pushing seedlings down as he went, hurried but precise, one tree after another. Gregory Barber is a journalist based in San Francisco.  This story was produced in partnership with the McGraw Center for Business Journalism at the Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism at the City University of New York, as well as support from the Fund for Investigative Journalism.

Recorded on April 23, 2025 Brain-Computer Interfaces: From Promise to Product Speakers: David Rotman, editor at large, and Antonio Regalado, senior editor for biomedicine. Brain-computer interfaces (BCIs) have been crowned the 11th Breakthrough Technology of 2025 by MIT Technology Review‘s readers. BCIs are electrodes implanted into the brain to send neural commands to computers, primarily to assist paralyzed people. Hear from MIT Technology Review editor at large David Rotman and senior editor for biomedicine Antonio Regalado as they explore the past, present, and future of BCIs. Related Coverage Brain-computer interfaces face a critical test

A new play about OpenAI I recently saw Doomers, a new play by Matthew Gasda about the aborted 2023 coup at OpenAI, here represented by a fictional company called MindMesh. The action is set almost entirely in a meeting room; the first act follows executives immediately after the firing of company CEO Seth (a stand-in for Sam Altman), and the second re-creates the board negotiations that determined his fate. It’s a solid attempt to capture the zeitgeist of Silicon Valley’s AI frenzy and the world’s moral panic over artificial intelligence, but the rapid-fire, high-stakes exchanges mean it sometimes seems to get lost in its own verbosity. Themed dinner parties and culinary experiments The vastness of Chinese cuisine defies easy categorization, and even in a city with no shortage of options, I often find myself cooking—not just to recapture something closer to home, but to create a home unlike one that ever existed. Recently, I’ve been experimenting with a Chinese take on the charcuterie board—pairing toasted steamed buns, called mantou, with furu, a fermented tofu spread that is sharp, pungent, and full of umami. Sewing and copying my own clothes I started sewing three years ago, but only in the past year have I begun making clothes from scratch. As a lover of vintage fashion—especially ’80s silhouettes—I started out with old patterns I found on Etsy. But recently, I tried something new: copying a beloved dress I bought in a thrift store in Beijing years ago. Doing this is quite literally a process of reverse-engineering—­pinning the garment down, tracing its seams, deconstructing its logic, and rebuilding it. At times my brain feels like an old Mac hitting its GPU limit. But when it works, it feels like a small act of magic. It’s an exercise in certainty, the very thing that drew me to fashion in the first place—a chance to inhabit something that feels like an extension of myself.

This is today’s edition of The Download, our weekday newsletter that provides a daily dose of what’s going on in the world of technology. Introducing: the Creativity issue The university computer lab may seem like an unlikely center for creativity. We tend to think of creativity as happening more in the artist’s studio or writers’ workshop. But throughout history, very often our greatest creative leaps—and I would argue that the web and its descendants represent one such leap—have been due to advances in technology. But the key to artistic achievement has never been the technology itself. It has been the way artists have applied it to express our humanity.This latest issue of our magazine, which was entirely produced by human beings using computers, explores creativity and the tension between the artist and technology. We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed putting it together. —Mat Honan, editor in chief Here’s just a taste of what you can expect: + AI is warping our expectations of music. New diffusion AI models that make songs from scratch are complicating our definitions of authorship and human creativity. Read the full story.+ Meet the researchers testing the “Armageddon” approach to asteroid defense. Read the full story. + How the federal government is tracking changes in the supply of street drugs. A new harm reduction initiative is helping prevent needless deaths. Read the full story.+ How AI is ushering in a new era of co-creativity, laying the groundwork for a future in which humans and machines create things together. Read the full story. + South Korea’s graphic artists are divided over whether AI will immortalize their work or threaten their creativity. + A new biosensor can detect bird flu in just five minutes. Read the full story. MIT Technology Review Narrated: Quantum computing is taking on its biggest challenge—noise For a while researchers thought they’d have to make do with noisy, error-prone systems, at least in the near term. That’s starting to change.This is our latest story to be turned into a MIT Technology Review Narrated podcast, which we’re publishing each week on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. Just navigate to MIT Technology Review Narrated on either platform, and follow us to get all our new content as it’s released. Join us today to chat about brain-computer interfaces Brain-computer interfaces are electrodes implanted into the brain to send neural commands to computers, primarily to assist paralyzed people, and our readers recently named them as the 11th Breakthrough Technology of 2025 in our annual list. So what are the next steps for companies like Neuralink, Synchron, and Neuracle? And will they be able to help paralyzed people at scale?Join our editor at large David Rotman and senior editor for biomedicine Antonio Regalado today for an exclusive subscriber-only Roundtable discussion exploring the past, present, and future of brain-computer interfaces. Register here to tune in at 1pm ET this afternoon! The must-reads I’ve combed the internet to find you today’s most fun/important/scary/fascinating stories about technology. 1 OpenAI is interested in buying Chrome from Google ChatGPT’s head of product Nick Turley said folding its tech into Chrome would improve it greatly. (Bloomberg $)+ It would be just one of many prospective buyers. (Insider $)+ Turley would also be happy with a distribution deal with Google. (The Information $) 2 Instagram’s founder says Meta starved it of resourcesKevin Systrom believes Mark Zuckerberg saw the app as a threat to Facebook. (NYT $)+ It sounds as if the pair had a strained relationship. (The Verge) 3 Elon Musk will step back from DOGE next month In his absence, Tesla’s profits have plummeted. (WP $)+ But he’ll still spend a day or so a week working on US government matters. (CNBC)+ There’s no denying that his political activities have damaged Tesla’s brand. (WSJ $)+ DOGE’s tech takeover threatens the safety and stability of our critical data. (MIT Technology Review) 4 Chinese scientists and students are under scrutiny in the USIt’s a repeat of the China Initiative program launched under Trump’s first Presidency. (WSJ $)+ US universities are starting to push back against government overreach. (Ars Technica)+ The FBI accused him of spying for China. It ruined his life. (MIT Technology Review) 5 Rare earth elements aren’t so rare after allWhich is bad news for China. (Wired $)+ But China’s export curbs are harming Tesla’s Optimus robot production. (Reuters)+ This rare earth metal shows us the future of our planet’s resources. (MIT Technology Review) 6 How to wean yourself off fossil fuelsMassive home batteries are an intriguing energy alternative. (Vox) 7 A new mission to grow food in space has blasted offScientists are investigating creating food from single cells in orbit. (BBC)+ Future space food could be made from astronaut breath. (MIT Technology Review) 8 It’s time to bid farewell to SkypeRIP to the OG video calling platform. (Rest of World)  9 Analysts are using AI to psychologically profile top soccer players And also to spot bright young talent. (The Guardian) 10 Saving the world’s seeds is a tricky business They’re the first line of defense against extinction. (Knowable Magazine)+ The weeds are winning. (MIT Technology Review) Quote of the day “Stuffing Chrome with even more AI crap is one way to spur browser innovation, I guess.” —Tech critic Paris Marx isn’t convinced that OpenAI buying Chrome would improve it, in a post on Bluesky. The big story How gamification took over the worldIt’s a thought that occurs to every video-game player at some point: What if the weird, hyper-focused state I enter when playing in virtual worlds could somehow be applied to the real one?Often pondered during especially challenging or tedious tasks in meatspace (writing essays, say, or doing your taxes), it’s an eminently reasonable question to ask. Life, after all, is hard. And while video games are too, there’s something almost magical about the way they can promote sustained bouts of superhuman concentration and resolve.For some, this phenomenon leads to an interest in flow states and immersion. For others, it’s simply a reason to play more games. For a handful of consultants, startup gurus, and game designers in the late 2000s, it became the key to unlocking our true human potential. But instead of liberating us, gamification turned out to be just another tool for coercion, distraction, and control. Read the full story. —Bryan Gardiner We can still have nice things A place for comfort, fun and distraction to brighten up your day. (Got any ideas? Drop me a line or skeet ’em at me.) + Succession creator Jesse Armstrong’s new film Mountainhead looks intriguing.+ Domestic cats have a much more complicated history than we previously realized.+ If you enjoyed the new vampire flick Sinners, you’ll love these Indian folk horrors.+ This hispi cabbage side dish looks incredible.

Ariel Aberg-Riger is the author of America Redux: Visual Stories from Our Dynamic History.

The reason you are reading this letter from me today is that I was bored 30 years ago.  I was bored and curious about the world and so I wound up spending a lot of time in the university computer lab, screwing around on Usenet and the early World Wide Web, looking for interesting things to read. Soon enough I wasn’t content to just read stuff on the internet—I wanted to make it. So I learned HTML and made a basic web page, and then a better web page, and then a whole website full of web things. And then I just kept going from there. That amateurish collection of web pages led to a journalism internship with the online arm of a magazine that paid little attention to what we geeks were doing on the web. And that led to my first real journalism job, and then another, and, well, eventually this journalism job.  But none of that would have been possible if I hadn’t been bored and curious. And more to the point: curious about tech.  The university computer lab may seem at first like an unlikely center for creativity. We tend to think of creativity as happening more in the artist’s studio or writers’ workshop. But throughout history, very often our greatest creative leaps—and I would argue that the web and its descendants represent one such leap—have been due to advances in technology.  There are the big easy examples, like photography or the printing press, but it’s also true of all sorts of creative inventions that we often take for granted. Oil paints. Theaters. Musical scores. Electric synthesizers! Almost anywhere you look in the arts, perhaps outside of pure vocalization, technology has played a role.   But the key to artistic achievement has never been the technology itself. It has been the way artists have applied it to express our humanity. Think of the way we talk about the arts. We often compliment it with words that refer to our humanity, like soul, heart, and life; we often criticize it with descriptors such as sterile, clinical, or lifeless. (And sure, you can love a sterile piece of art, but typically that’s because the artist has leaned into sterility to make a point about humanity!) All of which is to say I think that AI can be, will be, and already is a tool for creative expression, but that true art will always be something steered by human creativity, not machines.  I could be wrong. I hope not.  This issue, which was entirely produced by human beings using computers, explores creativity and the tension between the artist and technology. You can see it on our cover illustrated by Tom Humberstone, and read about it in stories from James O’Donnell, Will Douglas Heaven, Rebecca Ackermann, Michelle Kim, Bryan Gardiner, and Allison Arieff.  Yet of course, creativity is about more than just the arts. All of human advancement stems from creativity, because creativity is how we solve problems. So it was important to us to bring you accounts of that as well. You’ll find those in stories from Carrie Klein, Carly Kay, Matthew Ponsford, and Robin George Andrews. (If you’ve ever wanted to know how we might nuke an asteroid, this is the issue for you!)   We’re also trying to get a little more creative ourselves. Over the next few issues, you’ll notice some changes coming to this magazine with the addition of some new regular items (see Caiwei Chen’s “3 Things” for one such example). Among those changes, we are planning to solicit and publish more regular reader feedback and answer questions you may have about technology. We invite you to get creative and email us: newsroom@technologyreview.com. As always, thanks for reading.

Clara Brenner, MBA ’12, arrived in Cambridge on the lookout for a business partner. She wanted to start her own ­company—and never have to deal with a boss again. She would go it alone if she had to, but she hoped to find someone whose skills would complement her own. It’s a common MBA tale. Many people attend business school with hopes of finding the one. Building that relationship is so important to a company’s foundation that it’s been described in romantic terms: Networking is akin to dating around, and some view settling down with a business partner as a marriage of sorts. Brenner didn’t have to look for long. She met her match—Julie Lein, MBA ’12—soon after arriving at Sloan more than a decade ago. But their first encounter wasn’t exactly auspicious. In fact, their relationship began with an expletive. Lein was sitting at a card table in a hallway in E52, glumly selling tickets to a fashion show featuring work-­appropriate clothes for women—at that time, the marquee event for Sloan’s Women in Management Club, and one that both Lein and Brenner thought was patently absurd.  Lein had no interest in attending, but she wanted to support the club’s mission of boosting women in business. “She looked very miserable,” says Brenner. Lein asked if she wanted to buy a ticket, Brenner recalls, and “I think I said, ‘F*** no.’”  “We both bonded over the fact that this was such a stupid idea,” says Lein. (The fashion show has since been retired, in part thanks to Lein and Brenner’s lobbying.)                              Today, the two run the Urban Innovation Fund, a San Francisco–based venture capital firm that has raised $212 million since 2016 and invested in 64 startups addressing the most pressing problems facing cities. It has supported businesses like Electriphi, a provider of EV charging and fleet management software, which was acquired by one of the biggest names in the auto industry. And it funds companies focused on helping kids learn to code, providing virtual tutoring services, offering financing for affordable housing, and more. The companies in its portfolio have a total value of $5.3 billion, and at least eight have been acquired thus far.                              Though Brenner and Lein hit it off quickly, they weren’t an obvious fit as business partners. Brenner arrived at Sloan after weathering an early career in commercial real estate just after the 2008 financial crash. She hoped to start her own company in that industry. Lein, on the other hand, had worked in political polling and consulting. She initially planned to get an advanced policy degree, until a mentor suggested an MBA. She hoped to start her own political polling firm after graduation.  Ultimately, though, their instant kinship became more important than their subject matter expertise. Brenner, says Lein, is “methodical” and organized, while she “just goes and executes” without overthinking. Their relationship—in business, and still as close friends—is rooted in trust and a commitment to realizing the vision they’ve created together. “We were able to see that … our skills and style were very complementary, and we just were able to do things better and faster together,” says Brenner.  In 2012, the two teamed up to run Sloan’s second Women in Management Conference, which they had helped found the year before. It was then, they say, that they knew they would work together after graduation.  Still, they had trouble agreeing on the type of venture that made the most sense. Their initial talks involved a tug-of-war over whose area of expertise would win—real estate or policy.  But in the summer of 2011, they’d both happened to land internships at companies focused on challenges in cities—companies that would now be called “urban-tech startups,” says Brenner, though that term was not used at the time. The overlap was fortuitous: When they compared notes, they agreed that it made sense to investigate the potential for companies in that emerging space. Lyft was just getting its start, as was Airbnb. After exploring the idea further, the two concluded there was some “there” there. “We felt like all these companies had a lot in common,” says Brenner. “They were solving very interesting community challenges in cities, but in a very scalable, nontraditional way.” They were also working in highly regulated areas that VC firms were often hesitant to touch, even though these companies were attracting significant attention.  To Brenner and Lein, some of that attention was the wrong kind; companies like Uber were making what they saw as obvious missteps that were landing in the news. “No one was helping [these companies] with, like, ‘You should hire a lobbyist’ or ‘You should have a policy team,’” says Brenner. The two saw an opportunity to fund businesses that could make a measurable positive impact on urban life—and to help them navigate regulatory and policy environments as they grew from startups to huge companies.  Upon graduating in 2012, they launched Tumml, an accelerator program for such startups. The name was drawn from the Yiddish word tummler, often used by Brenner’s grandmother to describe someone who inspires others to action.  At the time, Brenner says, “world-­positive investing” was “not cool at all” among funders because it was perceived as yielding lower returns, even though growing numbers of tech companies were touting their efforts to improve society. In another unusual move, the partners structured their startup accelerator as a nonprofit evergreen fund, allowing them to invest in companies continuously without setting a fixed end date. By the end of their third year, they were supporting 38 startups.  Tumml found success by offering money, mentorship, and guidance, but the pair realized that relying solely on fickle philanthropic funding meant the model had a ceiling. To expand their work, they retired Tumml and launched the Urban Innovation Fund in 2016 with $24.5 million in initial investments. While Tumml had offered relatively small checks and support to companies at the earliest stages, UIF would allow Brenner and Lein to supercharge their funding and involvement.  Their focus has remained on startups tackling urban problems in areas such as public health, education, and transportation. The types of companies they look for are those that drive economic vitality in cities, make urban areas more livable, or make cities more sustainable. As Tumml did, UIF provides not just funding but also consistent support in navigating regulatory challenges. “It’s a very, very small subset of companies that can both work on a problem that, at least in our minds, really matters and be an enormous business.” And, like Tumml, UIF has taken on industries or companies that other investors may see as risky. When it was raising its first fund, Lein remembers, they pitched a large institution on its vision, which includes investing in companies that work on climate and energy. The organization, burned by the money it lost when the first cleantech bubble burst, was extremely wary—it wasn’t interested in a fund that emphasized those areas. But Lein and Brenner pressed on. Today, climate tech remains one of the fund’s largest areas, accounting for more than a sixth of its portfolio of 64 companies (see “Urban innovation in action,” at right). In addition to Electriphi, they have invested in Public Grid, a company that gives households access to affordable clean energy, and Optiwatt, an app that helps EV drivers schedule charging at times of day when it is cheaper or cleaner.                              “They took risks in areas, [including] mobility and transportation, where other people might not play because of policy and regulation risk. And they were willing to think about the public-private partnerships and what might be needed,” says Rachel Sheinbein, MBA ’04, SM ’04, a Bay Area–based angel investor who has worked with the Urban Innovation Fund on investments. “They weren’t afraid to take that on.” Lein and Brenner have also invested in health companies like Cleancard, which is working to provide at-home testing for cancers, and startups creating workflow tools, like KarmaSuite, which has built software to help nonprofits track grants.  Meanwhile, they have cast a wide net and built a portfolio rich in companies that happen to be led by entrepreneurs from underrepresented groups: Three-quarters of the companies in UIF’s current portfolio were founded by women or people of color, and nearly 60% include an immigrant on their founding team.   When it comes to selecting companies, Brenner says, they make “very calculated decisions” based in part on regulatory factors that may affect profits. But they’re still looking for the huge returns that drive other investors.  “It’s a very, very small subset of companies that can both work on a problem that, at least in our minds, really matters and be an enormous business,” she says. “Those are really the companies that we’re looking for.” One of the most obvious examples of that winning combination is Electriphi. When Brenner and Lein invested in the company, in 2019, the Biden administration hadn’t mandated the electrification of federal auto fleets, and the Inflation Reduction Act, which included financial incentives for clean energy, hadn’t yet been drafted. And California had yet to announce its intention to completely phase out gas-powered cars. “It was not a hot space,” says Brenner. But after meeting with Electriphi’s team, both Brenner and Lein felt there was something there. The partners tracked the startup for months, saw it achieving its goals, and ended up offering it the largest investment, by several orders of magnitude, that their fund had ever made. Less than two years later, Ford acquired it for an undisclosed sum.  “When we were originally talking about Electriphi, a lot of people were like, ‘Eh, it’s going to take too long for fleets to transition, and we don’t want to make a bet at this time,’” Sheinbein recalls. But she says the partners at Urban Innovation Fund were willing to take on an investment that other people were “still a little bit hesitant” about. Sheinbein also invested in the startup.  GABRIELA HASBUN Impact investing has now taken root in the building where Lein and Brenner first met. What was once an often overlooked investing area, says Bill Aulet, SM ’94, managing director of the Martin Trust Center for MIT Entrepreneurship, is now a core element of how Sloan teaches entrepreneurship. Aulet sees Urban Innovation Fund’s social-enterprise investing strategy as very viable in the current market. “Will it outperform cryptocurrency? Not right now,” he says, but he adds that many people want to put their money toward companies with the potential to improve the world.  Lein, who worked as Aulet’s teaching assistant at Sloan for a class now known as Entrepreneurship 101, helped establish the mold at Sloan for a social-impact entrepreneur—that is, someone who sees doing good as a critical objective, not just a marketing strategy. “Entrepreneurs don’t just have to found startups,” says Aulet. “You can also be what we call an entrepreneurship amplifier,” which he defines as “someone who helps entrepreneurship thrive.” When they make investments, VCs tend to prioritize such things as the need for a company’s products and the size of its potential market. Brenner and Lein say they pay the most attention to the team when deciding whether to make a bet: Do they work together well? Are they obsessive about accomplishing their goals? Those who have watched UIF grow say Brenner and Lein’s partnership fits that profile itself.  “I can just tell when a team really respects each other and [each] sees the value in the other one’s brain,” says Sheinbein. For Lein and Brenner, she says, their “mutual respect and admiration for each other” is obvious.  “We went to Sloan, we spent a bunch of money, but we found each other,” says Lein.  “We couldn’t agree on a new urban-tech startup to start,” she adds, so instead, they built an ecosystem of them—all in the name of improving cities for the people who live there. 

When the prison doors first closed behind him more than 50 years ago, Lee Perlman, PhD ’89, felt decidedly unsettled.   In his first job out of college, as a researcher for a consulting company working on a project for the US Federal Bureau of Prisons, he had been tasked with interviewing incarcerated participants in a drug rehab program. Once locked inside, he found himself alone in a room with a convicted criminal. “I didn’t know whether I should be scared,” he recalls.  Since then, he has spent countless hours in such environments in his role as a teacher of philosophy. He’s had “very, very few experiences” where he felt unsafe in prisons over the years, he says. “But that first time you go in, you do feel unsafe. I think that’s what you should feel. That teaches you something about what it feels like for anybody going into prison.” As a lecturer in MIT’s Experimental Study Group (ESG) for more than 40 years, Perlman has guided numerous MIT students through their own versions of that passage through prison doors. He first began teaching in prisons in the 1980s, when he got the idea of bringing his ESG students studying nonviolence into the Massachusetts Correctional Institution at Norfolk to talk with men serving life sentences. The experience was so compelling that Perlman kept going back, and since the early 2000s he has been offering full courses behind bars.  In 2018, Perlman formalized these efforts by cofounding the Educational Justice Institute (TEJI) at MIT with Carole Cafferty, a former corrections professional. Conceived both to provide college-level education with technology access to incarcerated individuals and to foster empathy and offer a window into the criminal justice system for MIT students, TEJI creates opportunities for the two groups to learn side by side.  “There’s hard data that there’s nothing that works like education to cut recidivism, to change the atmosphere within a prison so prisons become less violent places.” Lee Perlman, PhD ’89 “We believe that there are three fundamental components of education that everybody should have, regardless of their incarceration status: emotional literacy, digital literacy, and financial literacy,” says Cafferty. TEJI offers incarcerated students classes in the humanities, computer science, and business, the credits from which can be applied toward degrees from private universities and community colleges. The emotional literacy component, featuring Perlman’s philosophy courses, is taught in an “inside-out” format, with a mixed group of incarcerated “inside” students and “outside” classmates (from MIT and other universities where TEJI courses are sometimes cross-listed).  “I’ve been really torn throughout my life,” Perlman says, “between this part of me that would like to be a monk and sit in a cave and read books all day long and come out and discuss them with other monks, and this other half of me that wants to do some good in the world, really wants to make a difference.” Behind prison walls, the concepts he relishes discussing—love, authenticity, compassion—have become his tools for doing that good. TEJI also serves as a convener of people from academia and the criminal justice system. Within MIT, it works with the Sloan School of Management, the Music and Theater Arts Section, the Priscilla King Gray Public Service Center, and others on courses and special prison-related projects. And by spearheading broader initiatives like the Massachusetts Prison Education Consortium and the New England Commission on the Future of Higher Education in Prison, TEJI has helped lay the groundwork for significant shifts in how incarcerated people across the region and beyond prepare to rejoin society. “Lee and I both share the belief that education can and should be a transformative force in the lives of incarcerated people,” Cafferty says. “But we also recognize that the current system doesn’t offer a lot of opportunities for that.” Through TEJI, they’re working to create more. Perlman didn’t set out to reform prison education. “There’s never been any plan,” he says. “Before I was an academic I was a political organizer, so I have that political organizer brain. I just look for … where’s the opening you can run through?” Before earning his PhD in political philosophy, Perlman spent eight years making his mark on Maryland’s political scene. At age 28, he came up short by a few hundred votes in a primary for the state senate. In the late 1970s, Perlman says, he was named one of 10 rising stars in Maryland politics by the Baltimore Sun and one of the state’s most feared lobbyists by Baltimore Magazine because he got lawmakers to “do things they’d be perfectly willing to leave alone,” as he puts it, like pass election reform bills. The legislators gave him the nickname Wolfman, “probably just because I had a beard,” he says, “but it kind of grew to mean other things.” Perlman still has the beard. Working in tandem with Cafferty and others, he’s also retained his knack for nudging change forward. Lee Perlman, PhD ’89, and Philip Hutchful, an incarcerated student, take part in the semester’s final meeting of Perlman’s “inside-out” class Nonviolence as a Way of Life at the Boston Pre-Release Center.JAY DIAS/MASSACHUSETTS DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTION Cafferty understands, better than most, how difficult that can be in the prison system. She held numerous roles in her 25-year corrections career, ultimately serving as superintendent of the Middlesex Jail and House of Correction, where she oversaw the introduction of the first tablet-based prison literacy program in New England.  “I used to say someday when I write a book, it’s going to be called Swimming Against the Tide,” she says. In a correctional environment, “safety and security come first, always,” she explains. “Programming and education are much further down the list of priorities.” TEJI’s work pushes against a current in public opinion that takes a punitive rather than rehabilitative view of incarceration. Some skeptics see educating people in prison as rewarding bad deeds. “Out in the world I’ve had people say to me, ‘Maybe I should commit a crime so I can get a free college education,’” says Perlman. “My general response is, well, you really have one choice here: Do you want more crime or less crime? There’s hard data that there’s nothing that works like education to cut recidivism, to change the atmosphere within a prison so prisons become less violent places. Also, do you want to spend more or do you want to spend less money on this problem? For every dollar we spend on prison education and similar programs, we save five dollars.” The research to which Perlman refers includes a 2018 RAND study, which found that participants in correctional education programs in the US were 28% less likely to reoffend than their counterparts who did not participate. It’s a powerful number, considering that roughly 500,000 people are released from custody each year. Perlman has such statistics at the ready, as he must. But talk to him for any amount of time and the humanity behind the numbers is what stands out.  “There is a sizable group of people in prison who, if society was doing a better job, would have different lives,” he says, noting that “they’re smart enough and they have character enough” to pull it off: “We can make things happen in prison that will put them on a different path.”  “Most of the people I teach behind bars are people that have had terrible experiences with education and don’t feel themselves to be very capable at all,” he says. So he sometimes opens his class by saying: “Something you probably wouldn’t guess about me is that I failed the 11th grade twice and dropped out of high school. And now I have a PhD from MIT and I’ve been teaching at MIT for 40 years. So you never know where life’s gonna lead you.”  Though Perlman struggled to find his motivation in high school, he “buckled down and learned how much I loved learning,” as he puts it, when his parents sent him to boarding school to finish his diploma. He went on to graduate from St. John’s College in Annapolis, Maryland. Growing up in Michigan in the 1960s, he’d learned about fair housing issues because his mother was involved with the civil rights movement, and he lived for a time with a Black family that ran a halfway house for teenage girls. By the time he took that first job interviewing incarcerated former drug addicts, he was primed to understand their stories within the context of poverty, discrimination, and other systemic factors. He began volunteering for a group helping people reenter society after incarceration, and as part of his training, he spent a night booked into jail.  “I didn’t experience any ill treatment,” he says, “but I did experience the complete powerlessness you have when you’re a prisoner.” Jocelyn Zhu ’25 took a class with Perlman in the fall of 2023 at the Suffolk County House of Correction, and entering the facility gave her a similar sense of powerlessness.  “We had to put our phones away, and whatever we were told to do we would have to do, and that’s not really an experience that you’re in very often as a student at MIT,” says Zhu. “There was definitely that element of surrender: ‘I’m not in charge of my environment.’” On the flip side, she says, “because you’re in that environment, the only thing you’re doing while you’re there is learning—and really focusing in on the discussion you’re having with other students.” “I call them the ‘philosophical life skills’ classes,” says Perlman, “because there are things in our lives that everybody should sit down and think through as well as they can at some point.” He says that while those classes work fine with just MIT students, being able to go into a prison and talk through the same issues with people who have had very different life experiences adds a richness to the discussion that would be hard to replicate in a typical classroom.  He recalls the first time he broached the topic of forgiveness in a prison setting. Someone serving a life sentence for murder put things in a way Perlman had never considered. He remembers the man saying: “What I did was unforgivable. If somebody said ‘I forgive you for taking my child’s life,’ I wouldn’t even understand what that meant. For me, forgiveness means trying, at least … to regard me as somebody who’s capable of change … giving me the space to show you that I’m not the person who did that anymore.’”  Perlman went home and revised his lecture notes. “I completely reformulated my conception of forgiveness based on that,” he says. “And I tell that story every time I teach the class.” The meeting room at the minimum-­security Boston Pre-Release Center is simply furnished: clusters of wooden tables and chairs, a whiteboard, some vending machines. December’s bare branches are visible through a row of windows that remain closed even on the warmest of days (“Out of Bounds,” warns a sign taped beside them). This afternoon, the room is hosting one of Perlman’s signature classes, Nonviolence as a Way of Life. To close the fall 2024 semester, he has asked his students to creatively recap four months of Thursdays together.  Before long, the students are enmeshed in a good-natured showdown, calling out letters to fill in the blanks in a mystery phrase unfolding on the whiteboard. Someone solves it (“An eye for an eye makes the world go blind”) and scores bonus points for identifying its corresponding unit on the syllabus (Restorative Justice).  “It’s still anybody’s game!” announces the presenting student, Jay Ferran, earning guffaws with his spot-on TV host impression. Ferran and the other men in the room wearing jeans are residents of the Pre-Release Center. They have shared this class all semester with undergrad and grad students from MIT and Harvard (who are prohibited from wearing jeans by the visitor dress code). Before they all part ways, they circle up their chairs one last time. “Humor can be a defense mechanism, but it never felt that way in here,” says Isabel Burney, a student at the Harvard Graduate School of Education. “I really had a good time laughing with you guys.” “I appreciate everyone’s vulnerability,” says Jack Horgen ’26. “I think that takes a lot of grace, strength, and honesty.” “I’d like to thank the outside students for coming in and sharing as well,” says Ferran. “It gives a bit of freedom to interact with students who come from the outside. We want to get on the same level. You give us hope.” After the room has emptied out, Ferran reflects further on finding himself a college student at this stage in his life. Now in his late 40s, he dropped out of high school when he became a father. “I always knew I was smart and had the potential, but I was a follower,” he says.  As Ferran approaches the end of his sentence, he’s hoping to leverage the college credits he’s earned so far into an occupation in counseling and social work. His classmate Philip Hutchful, 35, is aiming for a career in construction management.  Access to education in prison “gives people a second chance at life,” Hutchful says. “It keeps your mind busy, rewires your brain.” MIT undergrads Denisse Romero Cruz ’25, Jack Horgen ’26, and Alor Sahoo ’26 at the final session of Perlman’s Nonviolence as a Way of Life class at the Boston Pre-Release Center. Along with about 45% of the Boston Pre-Release Center’s residents, Ferran and Hutchful are enrolled in the facility’s School of Reentry, which partners with MIT and other local colleges and universities to provide educational opportunities during the final 12 to 18 months of a sentence.  “We have seen a number of culture shifts for our students and their families, such as accountability, flexible thinking, and curiosity,” says the program’s executive director, Lisa Millwood. There are “students who worked hard just so they can proudly be there to support their grandchildren, or students who have made pacts with their teenage children who are struggling in school to stick with it together.” Ferran and Hutchful had previously taken college-level classes through the School of Reentry, but the prospect of studying alongside MIT and Harvard students raised new qualms.  “These kids are super smart—how can I compete with them? I’m going to feel so stupid,” Ferran remembers thinking. “In fact, it wasn’t like that at all.” “We all had our own different types of knowledge,” says Hutchful. Both Ferran and Hutchful say they’ve learned skills that they’ll put to use in their post-release lives, from recognizing manipulation to fostering nonviolent communication. Hutchful especially appreciates the principle that “you need to attack the problem, not the person,” saying, “This class teaches you how to deal with all aspects of people—angry people, impatient people. You’re not being triggered to react.”  Perlman has taught Nonviolence as a Way of Life nearly every semester since TEJI launched. Samuel Tukua ’25 took the class a few years ago. Like Hutchful, he has applied its lessons.  “I wouldn’t be TAing it for the third year now if it didn’t have this incredible impact on my life,” Tukua says.  Meeting incarcerated people did not in itself shift Tukua’s outlook; their stories didn’t surprise him, given his own upbringing in a low-income neighborhood near Atlanta. But watching learners from a range of backgrounds find common ground in big philosophical ideas helped convince him of those ideas’ validity. For example, he started to notice undercurrents of violence in everyday actions and speech.  “It doesn’t matter whether you came from a highly violent background or if you came from a privileged, less violent background,” he says he realized. “That kind of inner violence or that kind of learned treatment exists inside all of us.”  Marisa Gaetz ’20, a fifth-year PhD candidate in math at MIT, has stayed in TEJI’s orbit in the seven years since its founding—first as a student, then as a teaching assistant, and now by helping to run its computer science classes.  Limitations on in-person programming imposed by the covid-19 pandemic led Gaetz and fellow MIT grad student Martin Nisser, SM ’19, PhD ’24, to develop remote computer education classes for incarcerated TEJI students. In 2021, she and Nisser (now an assistant professor at the University of Washington) joined with Emily Harburg, a tech access advocate, to launch Brave Behind Bars, which partners closely with TEJI to teach Intro to Python, web development, and game design in both English and Spanish to incarcerated people across the US and formerly incarcerated students in Colombia and Mexico.  Since many inside students have laptop access only during class time, the remote computer courses typically begin with a 30-minute lecture followed by Zoom breakouts with teaching assistants. A ratio of one TA for every three or four students ensures that “each student feels supported, especially with coding, which can be frustrating if you’re left alone with a bug for too long,” Gaetz says.  Gaetz doesn’t always get to hear how things work out for her students,but she’s learned of encouraging outcomes. One Brave Behind Bars TA who got his start in their classes is now a software engineer. Another group of alums founded Reentry Sisters, an organization for formerly incarcerated women. “They made their own website using the skills that they learned in our class,” Gaetz says. “That was really amazing to see.” Although the pandemic spurred some prisons to expand use of technology, applying those tools to education in a coordinated way requires the kind of bridge-building TEJI has become known for since forming the Massachusetts Prison Education Consortium (MPEC) in 2018. “I saw there were a bunch of colleges doing various things in prisons and we weren’t really talking to each other,” says Perlman. TEJI secured funding from the Mellon Foundation and quickly expanded MPEC’s membership to more than 80 educational institutions, corrections organizations, and community-based agencies. Millwood says the School of Reentry has doubled its capacity and program offerings thanks to collaborations developed through MPEC. At the regional level, TEJI teamed up with the New England Board of Higher Education in 2022 to create the New England Commission on the Future of Higher Education in Prison. Its formation was prompted in part by the anticipated increase in demand for high-quality prison education programs thanks to the FAFSA Simplification Act, which as of 2023 reversed a nearly three-decade ban on awarding federal Pell grants to incarcerated people. Participants included leaders from academia and correctional departments as well as formerly incarcerated people. One, Daniel Throop, cochaired a working group called “Career, Workforce, and Employer Connections” just a few months after his release.  “I lived out a reentry while I was on the commission in a way that was very, very powerful,” Throop says. “I was still processing in real time.”  “Most of the people I teach behind bars are people that have had terrible experiences with education and don’t feel themselves to be very capable at all.” Lee Perlman, PhD ’89 During his incarceration in Massachusetts, Throop had revived the long-defunct Norfolk Prison Debating Society, which went head-to-head with university teams including MIT’s. Credits from his classes, including two with Perlman, culminated in a bachelor’s degree in interdisciplinary studies magna cum laude from Boston University, which he earned before his release. But he still faced big challenges. “Having a criminal record is still a very, very real hurdle,” Throop says. “I was so excited when those doors of prison finally opened after two decades, only to be greatly discouraged that so many doors of the community remained closed to me.”  Initially, the only employment he could get was loading UPS trucks by day and unloading FedEx trucks by night. He eventually landed a job with the Massachusetts Bail Fund and realized his goal of launching the National Prison Debate League.  “I fortunately had the educational credentials and references and the wherewithal to not give up on myself,” says Throop. “A lot of folks fail with less resources and privilege and ability and support.” The commission’s 2023 report advocates for improved programming and support for incarcerated learners spanning the intake, incarceration, and reentry periods. To help each state implement the recommendations, the New England Prison Education Collaborative (NEPEC) launched in October 2024 with funding from the Ascendium Education Group. Perlman encouraged TEJI alumna Nicole O’Neal, then working at Tufts University, to apply for the position she now holds as a NEPEC project manager.  Like Throop, O’Neal has firsthand experience with the challenges of reentry. Despite the stigma of having served time, having a transcript with credits earned during the period she was incarcerated “proved valuable for both job applications and securing housing,” she says. With the help of a nonprofit called Partakers and “a lot of personal initiative,” she navigated the confusing path to matriculation on Boston University’s campus, taking out student loans so she could finish the bachelor’s degree she’d begun in prison. A master’s followed. “I’ve always known that education was going to be my way out of poverty,” she says. From her vantage point at NEPEC, O’Neal sees how TEJI’s approach can inspire other programs. “What truly sets TEJI apart is the way that it centers students as a whole, as people and not just as learners,” she says. “Having the opportunity to take an MIT course during my incarceration wasn’t just about earning credits—it was about being seen as capable of engaging with the same level of intellectual rigor as students outside. That recognition changed how I saw myself and my future.” On a Zoom call one Wednesday evening in December, Perlman’s inside-out course on Stoicism is wrapping up. Most participants are women incarcerated in Maine. These are among Perlman’s most advanced and long-standing students, thanks to the state’s flexible approach to prison education—Perlman says it’s “maybe the most progressive system in the country,” early to adopt remote learning, experiment with mixed-gender classes, and allow email communication between teachers and students.  The mood is convivial, the banter peppered with quotes from the likes of Marcus Aurelius and Epictetus. More than one student is crocheting a Christmas gift, hands working busily at the edges of their respective Zoom rectangles.  As the students review what they’ve learned, the conversation turns to the stereotype of Stoicism as a lack of emotion. “I get the feeling the Stoics understood their emotions better than most because they weren’t puppets to their emotions,” says a student named Nicole. “They still feel things—they’re just not governed by it.” Jay Ferran, an incarcerated student at the Boston Pre-Release Center, presents a game to help recap what the class learned over the semester.JAY DIAS/MASSACHUSETTS DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTION Jade, who is a year into a 16-month sentence, connects this to her relationship with her 14-month-old son: “I think I would be a bad Stoic in how I love him. That totally governs me.” Perlman, a bit mischievously: “Does anyone want to talk Jade into being a Stoic mother?”  Another classmate, Victoria, quips: “I think you’d like it better when he’s a teenager.” When the laughter dies down, she says more seriously, “I think it’s more about not allowing your emotions to carry you away.” But she adds that it’s hard to do that as a parent.   “Excessive worry is also a hindrance,” Jade concedes. “So how do I become a middle Stoic?” “A middle Stoic would be an Aristotelian, I think,” muses Perlman. When the conversation comes around to amor fati, the Stoic notion of accepting one’s fate, Perlman asks how successful his students have been at this. The group’s sole participant from a men’s facility, Arthur, confesses that he has struggled with this over more than 20 years in prison. But for the last few years, school has brought him new focus. He helps run a space where other residents can study. “I hear you saying you can only love your fate if you have a telos, a purpose,” Perlman says. “I was always teaching people things to survive or get ahead by any means necessary,” Arthur says. “Now it’s positive building blocks.” “Education is my telos, and when I couldn’t access it at first, I had to focus on what was in my control,” says Victoria. “I framed my prison experiences as refusing to be harmed by the harmful process of incarceration. I’m going to use this opportunity for myself … so I can be who I want to be when I leave here.”  Soon after, the video call—and the course—ends. But if Perlman’s former students’ experience is any indication, the ideas their teacher has introduced will continue to percolate. O’Neal, who took Perlman’s Philosophy of Love, is still mulling over an exploration of loyalty in Tristan and Isolde that brought a classmate to tears. She thinks Perlman’s ability to nurture dialogue on sensitive topics begins with his relaxed demeanor—a remarkable quality in the prison environment. “It’s like you’re coming to our house. A lot of [people] show up as guests. Lee shows up like someone who’s been around—you know, and he’s willing to clean up the dishes with you. He just feels at home,” she says. “So he made us feel at home.”  Throop becomes animated when he describes taking Philosophy of the Self and Soul with Perlman and MIT students at MCI-Norfolk in 2016.  “Over those days and weeks, we got to meet and discuss the subject ­matter—walking around the prison yards together, my classmates and I, and then coming back and having these almost indescribable—I’m rarely at a loss for words!—weekly class discussions,” Throop remembers. Perlman “would throw one big question out there, and he would sit back and patiently let us all chop that material up,” he adds. “These discussions were like the highlight of all of our weeks, because we got to have this super-cool exchange of ideas, testing our perspectives … And then these 18-to-20-year-old students who were coming in with a whole different worldview, and being able to have those worldviews collide in a healthy way.”   “We all were having such enriching discussions that the semester flew by,” he says. “You didn’t want school to end.” 

It all began with a simple origami model.  As an undergrad at Harvard, Danna Freedman went to a professor’s office hours for her general chemistry class and came across an elegant paper model that depicted the fullerene molecule. The intricately folded representation of chemical bonds and atomic arrangements sparked her interest, igniting a profound curiosity about how the structure of molecules influences their function.  She stayed and chatted with the professor after the other students left, and he persuaded her to drop his class so she could instead dive immediately into the study of chemistry at a higher level. Soon she was hooked. After graduating with a chemistry degree, Freedman earned a PhD at the University of California, Berkeley, did a postdoc at MIT, and joined the faculty at Northwestern University. In 2021, she returned to MIT as the Frederick George Keyes Professor of Chemistry. Freedman’s fascination with the relationship between form and function at the molecular level laid the groundwork for a trailblazing career in quantum information science, eventually leading her to be honored with a 2022 MacArthur fellowship—and the accompanying “genius” grant—as one of the leading figures in the field. Today, her eyes light up when she talks about the “beauty” of chemistry, which is how she sees the intricate dance of atoms that dictates a molecule’s behavior. At MIT, Freedman focuses on creating novel molecules with specific properties that could revolutionize the technology of sensing, leading to unprecedented levels of precision.  Designer molecules Early in her graduate studies, Freedman noticed that many chemistry research papers claimed to contribute to the development of quantum computing, which exploits the behavior of matter at extremely small scales to deliver much more computational power than a conventional computer can achieve. While the ambition was clear, Freedman wasn’t convinced. When she read these papers carefully, she found that her skepticism was warranted. “I realized that nobody was trying to design magnetic molecules for the actual goal of quantum computing!” she says. Such molecules would be suited to acting as quantum bits, or qubits, the basic unit of information in quantum systems. But the research she was reading about had little to do with that.  Nevertheless, that realization got Freedman thinking—could molecules be designed to serve as qubits? She decided to find out. Her work made her among the first to use chemistry in a way that demonstrably advanced the field of quantum information science, which she describes as a general term encompassing the use of quantum technology for computation, sensing, measurement, and communication.  Unlike traditional bits, which can only equal 0 or 1, qubits are capable of “superposition”—simultaneously existing in multiple states. This is why quantum computers made from qubits can solve large problems faster than classical computers. Freedman, however, has always been far more interested in tapping into qubits’ potential to serve as exquisitely precise sensors. Qubits store information in quantum properties that can be easily disrupted. While the delicacy of those properties makes qubits hard to control, it also makes them especially sensitive and therefore very useful as sensors. Qubits encode information in quantum properties—such as spin and energy—that can be easily disrupted. While the delicacy of those properties makes qubits hard to control, it also makes them especially sensitive and therefore very useful as sensors. Harnessing the power of qubits is notoriously tricky, though. For example, two of the most common types—superconducting qubits, which are often made of thin aluminum layers, and trapped-ion qubits, which use the energy levels of an ion’s electrons to represent 1s and 0s—must be kept at temperatures approaching absolute zero (–273 °C). Maintaining special refrigerators to keep them cool can be costly and difficult. And while researchers have made significant progress recently, both types of qubits have historically been difficult to connect into larger systems. Eager to explore the potential of molecular qubits, Freedman has pioneered a unique “bottom-up” approach to creating them: She designs novel molecules with specific quantum properties to serve as qubits targeted for individual applications. Instead of focusing on a general goal such as maximizing coherence time (how long a qubit can preserve its quantum state), she begins by asking what kinds of properties are needed for, say, a sensor meant to measure biological phenomena at the molecular level. Then she and her team set out to create molecules that have these properties and are suitable for the environment where they’d be used.  To determine the precise structure of a new molecule, Freedman’s team uses software to analyze and process visualizations (such as those in teal and pink above) of data collected by an x-ray diffractometer. The diagram at right depicts an organometallic Cr(IV) complex made of a central chromium atom and four hydrocarbon ligands.COURTESY OF DANNA FREEDMAN Made of a central metallic atom surrounded by hydrocarbon atoms, molecular qubits store information in their spin. The encoded information is later translated into photons, which are emitted to “read out” the information. These qubits can be tuned with laser precision—imagine adjusting a radio dial—by modifying the strength of the ligands, or bonds, connecting the hydrocarbons to the metal atom. These bonds act like tiny tuning forks; by adjusting their strength, the researchers can precisely control the qubit’s spin and the wavelength of the emitted photons. That emitted light can be used to provide information about atomic-level changes in electrical or magnetic fields.  While many researchers are eager to build reliable, scalable quantum computers, Freedman and her group devote most of their attention to developing custom molecules for quantum sensors. These ultrasensitive sensors contain particles in a state so delicately balanced that extremely small changes in their environments unbalance them, causing them to emit light differently. For example, one qubit designed in Freedman’s lab, made of a chromium atom surrounded by four hydrocarbon molecules, can be customized so that tiny changes in the strength of a nearby magnetic field will change its light emissions in a particular way.   A key benefit of using such molecules for sensing is that they are small enough—just a nanometer or so wide—to get extremely close to the thing they are sensing. That can offer an unprecedented level of precision when measuring something like the surface magnetism of two-­dimensional materials, since the strength of a magnetic field decays with distance. A molecular quantum sensor “might not be more inherently accurate than a competing quantum sensor,” says Freedman, “but if you can lose an order of magnitude of distance, that can give us a lot of information.” Quantum sensors’ ability to detect electric or magnetic changes at the atomic level and make extraordinarily precise measurements could be useful in many fields, such as environmental monitoring, medical diagnostics, geolocation, and more. When designing molecules to serve as quantum sensors, Freedman’s group also factors in the way they can be expected to act in a specific sensing environment. Creating a sensor for water, for example, requires a water-compatible molecule, and a sensor for use at very low temperatures requires molecules that are optimized to perform well in the cold. By custom-­engineering molecules for different uses, the Freedman lab aims to make quantum technology more versatile and widely adaptable. Embracing interdisciplinarity As Freedman and her group focus on the highly specific work of designing custom molecules, she is keenly aware that tapping into the power of quantum science depends on the collective efforts of scientists from different fields. “Quantum is a broad and heterogeneous field,” she says. She believes that attempts to define it narrowly hurt collective research—and that scientists must welcome collaboration when the research leads them beyond their own field. Even in the seemingly straightforward scenario of using a quantum computer to solve a chemistry problem, you would need a physicist to write a quantum algorithm, engineers and materials scientists to build the computer, and chemists to define the problem and identify how the quantum computer might solve it.  MIT’s collaborative environment has helped Freedman connect with researchers in different disciplines, which she says has been instrumental in advancing her research. She’s recently spoken with neurobiologists who proposed problems that quantum sensing could potentially solve and provided helpful context for building the sensors. Looking ahead, she’s excited about the potential applications of quantum science in many scientific fields. “MIT is such a great place to nucleate a lot of these connections,” she says. “As quantum expands, there are so many of these threads which are inherently interdisciplinary,” she says. Inside the lab Freedman’s lab in Building 6 is a beehive of creativity and collaboration. Against a backdrop of colorful flasks and beakers, researchers work together to synthesize molecules, analyze their structures, and unlock the secrets hidden within their intricate atomic arrangements. “We are making new molecules and putting them together atom by atom to discover whether they have the properties we want,” says Christian Oswood, a postdoctoral fellow.  Some sensitive molecules can only be made in the lab’s glove box, a nitrogen-filled transparent container that protects chemicals from oxygen and water in the ambient air. An example is an organometallic solution synthesized by one of Freedman’s graduate students, David Ullery, which takes the form of a vial of purple liquid. (“A lot of molecules have really pretty colors,” he says.) Freedman is a passionate educator, dedicated to demystifying the complexities of chemistry for her students. Aware that many of them find the subject daunting, she strives to go beyond textbook equations. Once synthesized, the molecules are taken to a single-crystal x-ray diffractometer a few floors below the Freedman lab. There, x-rays are directed at crystallized samples, and from the diffraction pattern, researchers can deduce their molecular structure—how the atoms connect. Studying the precise geometry of these synthesized molecules reveals how the structure affects their quantum properties, Oswood explains. Researchers and students at the lab say Freedman’s cross-disciplinary outlook played a big role in drawing them to it. With a chemistry background and a special interest in physics, for example, Ullery joined because he was excited by the way Freedman’s research bridges those two fields.  Crystals of an organometallic Cr(IV) complex. Freedman’s lab designed a series of molecules like this one to detect changes in a magnetic field.COURTESY OF DANNA FREEDMAN Others echo this sentiment. “The opportunity to be in a field that’s both new and expanding like quantum science, and attacking it from this specific angle, was exciting to me both intellectually and professionally,” says Oswood. Another graduate student, Cindy Serena Ngompe Massado, says she enjoys being part of the lab because she gets to collaborate with scientists in other fields. “It allows you to really approach scientific challenges in a more holistic and productive way,” she says. Though the researchers spend most of their time synthesizing and analyzing molecules, fun infuses the lab too. Freedman checks in with everyone frequently, and conversations often drift beyond just science. She’s just as comfortable chatting about Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce as she is discussing research. “Danna is very personable and very herself with us,” Ullery says. “It adds a bit of levity to being in an otherwise stressful grad school environment.” Bringing textbook chemistry to life In the classroom, Freedman is a passionate educator, dedicated to demystifying the complexities of chemistry for her students. Aware that many of them find the subject daunting, she strives to go beyond textbook equations. For each lecture in her advanced inorganic chemistry classes, she introduces the “molecule of the day,” which is always connected to the lesson plan. When teaching about bimetallic molecules, for example, she showcased the potassium rubidium molecule, citing active research at Harvard aimed at entangling its nuclear spins. For a lecture on superconductors, she brought a sample of the superconducting material yttrium barium copper oxide that students could handle.  Chemistry students often think “This is painful” or “Why are we learning this?” Freedman says. Making the subject matter more tangible and showing its connection to ongoing research spark students’ interest and underscore the material’s relevance. Freedman sees frustrating research as an opportunity to discover new things. “I like students to work on at least one ‘safer’ project along with something more ambitious,” she says.M. SCOTT BRAUER/MIT NEWS OFFICE Freedman believes this is an exceptionally exciting time for budding chemists. She emphasizes the importance of curiosity and encourages them to ask questions. “There is a joy to being able to walk into any room and ask any question and extract all the knowledge that you can,” she says.  In her own research, she embodies this passion for the pursuit of knowledge, framing challenges as stepping stones to discovery. When she was a postdoc, her research on electron spins in synthetic materials hit what seemed to be a dead end that ultimately led to the discovery of a new class of magnetic material. So she tells her students that even the most difficult aspects of research are rewarding because they often lead to interesting findings.  That’s exactly what happened to Ullery. When he designed a molecule meant to be stable in air and water and emit light, he was surprised that it didn’t—and that threw a wrench into his plan to develop the molecule into a sensor that would emit light only under particular circumstances. So he worked with theoreticians in Giulia Galli’s group at the University of Chicago, developing new insights on what drives emission, and that led to the design of a new molecule that did emit light.  “Frustrating research is almost fun to deal with,” says Freedman, “even if it doesn’t always feel that way.” 

After decades of working as a biologist at a Southern school with a Division 1 football team, coming to MIT was a bit of a culture shock—in the best possible way. I’ve heard from MIT alumni all about late-night psetting, when to catch MITHenge, and the best way to celebrate Pi Day (with pie, of course). And I’ve also learned that for many of you, the Institute is more than simply your alma mater. As the MIT Alumni Association celebrates its 150th anniversary, I’m reflecting on the extraordinary talent and drive of the people here, and what it is that makes MIT alumni—like MIT itself—just a little bit different. As students, you learned to investigate, question, argue, critique, and refine your ideas with faculty and with each other, managing to be both collaborative and competitive. You hacked the toughest and most interesting problems and came up with the most unconventional solutions. And you developed and nurtured a uniquely entrepreneurial, hands-on MIT spirit that only those who have earned a degree here can fully understand, but that the rest of us can easily identify and admire. An article in this magazine about the history of the MIT Alumni Association notes that when the association was formed, there were 84 alumni in total. By 1888, the number had increased to an impressive 579. And it grew by orders of magnitude; today nearly 149,000 alumni are members. But even as the alumni community has grown and evolved, its culture and character have remained remarkably consistent, represented by men and women known for their rigorous thinking, incisive analysis, mens et manus ethos, and drive to make a real and transformative impact on people and communities everywhere. As MIT alumni, you recognize each other by your Brass Rats. These sturdy, cleverly designed rings not only signify your completion (some might say survival) of an immensely difficult course of study. They also signal to the world that you stand ready to share your expertise, knowledge, and experience in the service of humanity.  Alumni have always been the Institute’s greatest ambassadors, and today that role has taken on even greater meaning and importance. We are working intensely, every day, to make the case for the vital importance of MIT to ensuring the nation’s security, prosperity, health, and quality of life. And I’m deeply grateful that we can rely on MIT’s extraordinary family of alumni to help share that message far and wide.

Tiny flying robots could perform such useful tasks as pollinating crops inside multilevel warehouses, boosting yields while mitigating some of agriculture’s harmful impacts on the environment. The latest robo-bug from an MIT lab, inspired by the anatomy of the bee, comes closer to matching nature’s performance than ever before.  Led by Kevin Chen, an associate professor in the Department of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science and the senior author of a paper on the work, the team adapted an earlier flying robot composed of four identical two-winged units, combined into a rectangular device about the size of a microcassette. The wings managed to flap like an insect’s, but the bot couldn’t fly for long. One problem is that the wings would blow air into each other when flapping, reducing the lift forces they could generate. In the new design, each of the four units has a single flapping wing pointing away from the robot’s center, stabilizing the wings and boosting their lift forces. The researchers also improved the way the wings are connected to the actuators, or artificial muscles, that flap them. In previous designs, when the actuators’ movements reached the extremely high frequencies needed for flight, the devices often started buckling. That reduced the power and efficiency of the robot. Thanks in part to a new, longer wing hinge, the actuators now experience less mechanical strain and can apply more force, so the bots can fly faster, longer, and in more precise paths. The robots can precisely track a trajectory enough to spell M-I-T.COURTESY OF THE RESEARCHERS Weighing less than a paper clip, the new robotic insect can hover for more than 1,000 seconds—almost 17 minutes—without any degradation of flight precision. “When my student Yi-Hsuan Hsiao was performing that flight, he said it was the slowest 1,000 seconds he had spent in his entire life. The experiment was extremely nerve-racking,” Chen says. The new robot also reached an average speed of 35 centimeters per second, the fastest flight researchers have reported, and was able to perform body rolls and double flips. It can even precisely track a trajectory that spells M-I-T. “At the end of the day, we’ve shown flight that is 100 times longer than anyone else in the field has been able to do, so this is an extremely exciting result,” Chen says. COURTESY OF THE RESEARCHERS From here, he and his students want to see how far they can push this new design, with the goal of achieving flight for longer than 10,000 seconds. They also want to improve the precision of the robots so they could land in and take off from the center of a flower. In the long run, the researchers hope to install tiny batteries and sensors so the robots could fly and navigate outside the lab. The design has more room for those electronics now that they’ve halved the number of wings. The bots still can’t achieve the fine-tuned behavior of a real bee, Chen acknowledges. Still, he says, “with the improved lifespan and precision of this robot, we are getting closer to some very exciting applications, like assisted pollination.” 

Scientists have known for decades that certain neurons in the hippocampus are dedicated to remembering specific locations where an animal has been. More useful, though, is remembering where places are relative to each other, and it hasn’t been clear how those mental maps are formed. A study by MIT neuroscientist Matthew Wilson and colleagues sheds light on that question.  The researchers let mice explore mazes freely for about 30 minutes a day for several days. While the animals were wandering and while they were sleeping, the team monitored hundreds of neurons that they had engineered to flash when electrically active. Wilson’s lab has shown that animals essentially refine their memories by dreaming about their experiences. The recordings showed that the “place cells” were equally active for days. But activity in another group of cells, which were only weakly attuned to individual places, gradually changed so that it correlated not with locations, but with activity patterns among other neurons in the network. As this happened, an increasingly accurate cognitive map of the maze took shape. Sleep played a crucial role in this process: When mice explored a new maze twice with a siesta in between, the mental maps of those allowed to sleep during the break showed significant refinement, while those of mice that stayed awake did not.  “On day 1, the brain doesn’t represent the space very well,” says research scientist Wei Guo, the study’s lead author. “Neurons represent individual locations, but together they don’t form a map. But on day 5 they form a map. If you want a map, you need all these neurons to work together.”