You know the scene: someone reaches for a suspiciously dusty book in a stately library, the bookshelf creaks, and boom—a hidden passage swings open. Maybe it’s a secret tunnel, maybe it’s a villain’s lair, maybe it’s just where they keep the good snacks. Either way, it’s drama. It’s mystery. It’s very extra. And guess what? That magic is no longer reserved for Scooby-Doo or Sherlock Holmes.Thanks to interior designers’ customization offerings, as well as hidden-door-specific brands such as Murphy Door and Creative Home Engineering, those secret swings and sneaky reveals are showing up in real-life homes—and homeowners are absolutely obsessed. Like, “I’ll take three, please and thank you” obsessed.Designer Lynn Kloythanomsup of Landed Interiors and Home installed a Murphy Door to conceal a hallway bathroom in a San Francisco home.Haris KenjarTa-da! With a push of the shelf a pretty powder room is revealed.Haris KenjarThese cleverly disguised doors are popping up everywhere, from kitchens and closets to home offices and bedrooms, proving that the only thing better than good design is a good surprise. “There’s nothing better than a hidden surprise,” says interior designer Maria Vassiliou of Maria Zoe Designs. Shock value aside, Murphy doors can also have practical benefits as well. “Hidden doors often come with features like shelving, allowing for better organization and use of space,” says Vassiliou. They can also be designed to blend seamlessly with cabinetry.”Translation: not only do hidden doors look cool, they can actually do something. (Imagine that!) Here’s everything you need to know about hidden doors.A built in bookcase with a secret tucked within a modern mountain barn by A Classical Studio. Heidi HarrisA little push is all it takes to reveal a secret passageway behind the shelf. Heidi HarrisWhat, Exactly, Is a Murphy Door?There’s a difference between a well-disguised door and a hidden one. You can flush-mount a jib door into the wall, wrap it in wallpaper, and remove the hardware to make it nearly invisible. These minimalist doors are scattered throughout design-forward interiors. But a Murphy Door is something entirely different. It’s not invisible—it’s intentionally integrated. It could be a bookshelf, a staircase, or even a wine rack. It’s meant to be lived with, decorated, and admired. But here’s the catch: you’d never guess it’s also a door. HEIDI GELDHAUSER HARRISIn this dining room, designer Clary Bosbyshell used the same mural wallpaper to create a seamless transition on a jib door.Of course, the thrill factor is still alive and well. If you’ve ever walked through the fridge to get into Good Times at Davey Wayne’s in L.A., or slipped through the vending machine into Basement in NYC’s Chinatown, or snuck behind the bookshelf at Eatapas in Fort Lauderdale, then you know: a hidden entrance makes everything instantly cooler. And yes, your house deserves to be that cool. Take this Central Texas home designed by Sarah Stacey of Sarah Stacey Interior Design. She cleverly utilized an iconic British telephone booth as the secret entrance between the home’s garage-turned-speakeasy and dance hall. Then there’s the Grandpa who created his own version of C.S. Lewis’ Narnia by enclosing a secret room within his bedroom wardrobe. STEPHEN KARLISCHDesigner Sarah Stacey brought on a contractor to remove the back of the booth to recast it as a hidden door.What Styles of Murphy Doors Are Available?Murphy Door’s lineup is basically a choose-your-own-adventure of hidden access points. Want a full-length Mirror Door that’s secretly a portal to your glam room? Done. Need a Pantry Door to hide your cereal stash and your coffee machine? There’s a Murphy Door for that too. Or you can do your own custom built-in like Vassiliou did in her clients’ home below. “The hidden door allows the homeowners to hide away items that might otherwise seem cluttered, such as small appliances like coffee machines and toaster ovens and extra pantry items like fruit, vegetables and snacks,” she says.This seems to be just another display cabinet in this butler's pantry designed by Marie Zoe Designs.Linda Pordon PhotographyThis opens up to reveal additional storage and even tucked away appliances. Linda Pordon Photography“A Murphy Door isn’t just a door—it’s a gateway to possibility,” says Jeremy Barker, Founder and CEO at Murphy Door. “Homeowners are drawn to the idea that behind what looks like an ordinary bookcase or cabinet is something deeply personal: a wine cellar, a hidden study, a secure space, or even a walk-in pantry.”Murphy Door’s newest launches—debuted at the 2025 NAHB International Builders Show—include the Archway Bookcase Door for that Beauty and the Beast library moment, the Speakeasy Door if you want to relive the thrill of the prohibition, and let’s not forget the Tactical Murphy Door, which sounds like it moonlights as a Marvel superhero but is actually just a very secure place to keep your valuables. They also offer a number of these doors in a French Door style making way for double the drama and mystery.Courtesy of Murphy DoorOne of Murphy Door’s newest additions, the Archway Bookcase Door, in green. Where Can I Install a Murphy Door?These doors are as functional as they are fun. But the best part? Hidden doors can be installed in a variety of places. According to Steve Humble, president of Creative Home Engineering, the world’s premier designer and manufacturer of motorized and high-security secret passageways, “location is the first thing you must consider when installing a hidden door in your home. It determines which door ideas are feasible.” Humble recommends primary bedrooms, bathrooms, libraries, wardrobes, and basements as the top five locations to install a secret passthrough. With staircases as a very close runner up. No matter where you install them, they save space. They hide mess. They make you feel like you’re living in your own secret lair—but in a more chic versus villainous way.SARAH HEBENSTREITDesigner Regan Baker installed a bookshelf Murphy Door under a staircase to add function to an underused space. In a world where everyone’s trying to declutter, hide the chaos, and add personality to their space, hidden doors offer the perfect triple threat: style, storage, and just the right amount of sass. Because honestly, who doesn’t want to feel like they're in a Bond movie while grabbing a protein bar? “The appeal is emotional and functional,” says Barker. “They’re not just entrances, they’re the first step into an experience tailored to your vision.”Bottom line: Hidden doors aren’t just a trend—they’re a (secret) lifestyle. So go ahead, pull that book, press that panel, and swing open the possibilities. Your home’s next best-kept secret is just a hinge away. Shop Murphy DoorsSpice Rack Door$2,282 at Murphy DoorsCredit: Murphy DoorsArchway Bookcase Door$2,762 at Murphy DoorCredit: CREDIT: MURPHY DOORMirror Door$2,092 at Murphy DoorCredit: CREDIT: MURPHY DOORHamper Door$2,569 at Murphy DoorCredit: Murphy Doors

Stretching it?With the release date of the Switch 2 now so close I can barely sit still on the toilet, I've been having a little wonder to myself about what stuff, besides that new console smell and a brand new Mario Kart game, has got me most excited for my latest child's arrival. That's right, my consoles are my children. Stay off my property.Perusing some of the finer pre-release details, and getting stuck into the list of Switch games getting a "free update" of some sort on Switch 2, I was busy being slightly excited, when all of a sudden my excitement meter, which I carry in a bum-bag around my waist, began to pulse and make loud noises. Which it isn't meant to do during the day.Read the full article on nintendolife.com

OpinionMay 26, 20254 min readThe Applause for Jaws, Despite FlawsFifty years ago, the movie Jaws scared beachgoers and demonized sharks. Now, however, sharks, the public and our beaches are all evolving to a better understandingBy Chris Pepin-Neff Universal Pictures/Courtesy of Getty ImagesThe motion picture Jaws deserves another round of applause on its 50th birthday, despite its flaws. Released on June 20, 1975, this classic invented the summer blockbuster genre, made sharks a familiar (if demonized) foe, and gave a visceral picture to the words “shark attack.”But today, humanity has grown to have a better appreciation for all sharks, even those that swim near the beach. We owe some of the public sentiment that it’s “safe to go back in the water” to Jaws.Initially, the movie’s biggest impact was to portray shark bites as intentional "attacks" on swimmers. The fictional story of the human-shark relationship (and human-ocean relationship) that humans are on the menu—has been one of the most successful Hollywood narratives in motion picture history. More movies, sequels and spin-offs have created a lasting narrative and industry of “rogue” sharks, rabid dogs, territorial bears, hungry crocodiles, and other animals that intentionally and sometimes hysterically attack innocent people in classic “Sharknado” style.On supporting science journalismIf you're enjoying this article, consider supporting our award-winning journalism by subscribing. By purchasing a subscription you are helping to ensure the future of impactful stories about the discoveries and ideas shaping our world today.The public believed this story of intentionality so completely that every shark bite was essentially a murder, and every shark a potential murderer, and the beach was the scene of a crime by a deviant monster against innocent beachgoers. Importantly, the rogue narrative of sharks gaining a taste for human flesh pre-dated Jaws, and was invented largely by an Australian surgeon, Sir Victor Coppleson, in the 1950s. Peter Benchley’s 1974 novel, Jaws, and the movie blockbuster provided the justification for, and weakened push-back against, all the anti-shark public policies that followed, including revenge shark hunts, shark derbies, changes to fishery laws that classified sharks as waste fish, delays in enacting shark conservation and the placement of lethal shark nets on some international beaches.Another piece of the Jaws story was its portrayal of an innocent coastal community being preyed upon. Here, beachgoers were not large land animals entering into the foreign domain of a dynamic marine ecosystem, but they were cast as property owners and recreational water users who had the right to expect nature to behave in a domesticated manner. This misperception that the beach is safe introduced as big a misconception and falsehood on the public, as the idea that sharks are all dangerous. The ocean is constantly in flux, and the direct opposite to "shark bites are intentional attacks" is a much less Oscar-worthy story about the beach as a wild, dynamic and active ocean environment.In 2014, I proposed the “Jaws Effect” in the Australian Journal of Political Science, in which I argue that politicians use familiar fictional films and movies as the basis for explaining real-life events. The Jaws Effect can be seen as a political instrument that uses films to reinforce three themes: “that sharks are intentionally hunting people, that shark bites are fatal events and that killing individual sharks will solve the problem.”Following a terrible fatal shark bite in Western Australia in 2000 and subsequent shark bites and encounters, the West Australian premier Colin Barnett repeatedly used the term “rogue sharks” the he said were returning to the beach to attack swimmers, so there needed to be a law to help the government kill specific target sharks that were intent on haunting the local beach community.During this period, Benchley wrote an open letter to Western Australia about the case and the political directive to hunt down the shark responsible. He wrote, “This was not a rogue shark, tantalised by the taste of human flesh and bound now to kill and kill again. Such creatures do not exist, despite what you might have derived from Jaws.”The Jaws Effect, however, continues in Australia today. In 2024, the District Council of Elliston passed a motion to allow fisheries officers in South Australia to kill great white sharks following shark bites in that area, which stated, “Sharks are capable of learned behavior. The purpose of terminating the shark responsible for an attack is to prevent that shark from using that behavior to harm another person.”Yet, at 50 years old, Jaws is also a celebration of sharks, creating a fascination that helped lead to more than two generations of new shark researchers. Indeed, some of the people who have done the most for shark conservation worked on Jaws. Valerie Taylor help collect footage of sharks that was used in Jaws and was one of the leaders in New South Wales on conservation laws to protect the Grey Nurse Shark, which in 1984 became the first protected species of shark. As well, Leonard Compagno, who was a scientist and consultant on Jaws, also led the effort to protect White Sharks in South Africa. The idea that Jaws led to bad public relations is too simple a story. Our reading of the movie, real-life sharks, the public and our beaches are all evolving. Jaws is better at 50, sharks are seen more positively in 2025, and the public is more engaged in shark conservation and beach safety. There’s even a “Jawsie” Award in Australia, given yearly to the most outlandish reports of shark attacks and meant to spur real beach safety awareness.I would be remiss if I did not note the connection between Jaws, the false rogue shark theory, and current debate over orcas ramming into yachts off the Strait of Gibraltar. Both National Geographic and the BBC, for example, have run headlines about such “rogue” orcas. In the mix of stories to explain this behavior, one that claimed that it was an “orca scorned” type situation where a female orca had been traumatized by a boat previously and was now training her young to attack boats in revenge. Very Jaws, or perhaps Jaws 3, but there will be no awards for this fish story.This is an opinion and analysis article, and the views expressed by the author or authors are not necessarily those of Scientific American.

Click to enlarge Housing build-ups in Dhaka. Image: Jeremy Smith 1 of 11 Marina Tabassum Architects’ Bait Ur Rouf Jame Mosque. Image: Jeremy Smith 2 of 11 Marina Tabassum Architects’ Bait Ur Rouf Jame Mosque. Image: Jeremy Smith 3 of 11 Marina Tabassum Architects’ Bait Ur Rouf Jame Mosque. Image: Jeremy Smith 4 of 11 Marina Tabassum Architects’ Bait Ur Rouf Jame Mosque. Image: Jeremy Smith 5 of 11 Old Dhaka and 45,000 people per square kilometre. Image: Jeremy Smith 6 of 11 Buses collage life on the roads. Image: Jeremy Smith 7 of 11 Lattice-work roofing of the informal settlements, viewed from Salauddin Ahmed’s Atelier Robin Architects studio. Image: Jeremy Smith 8 of 11 The colour and vibrancy of Dhaka life. Image: Jeremy Smith 9 of 11 The colour and vibrancy of Dhaka life. Image: Jeremy Smith 10 of 11 The colour and vibrancy of Dhaka life. Image: Jeremy Smith 11 of 11 Architects Jeremy Smith and Murali Bhaskar go looking for water and hard-to-find buildings in what is already one of the world’s most populous mega-cities, Dhaka. Architecture here is rarely properly lost. Even now, as we navigate a way to higher-density living, we tend not to misplace buildings. There’s still the space to eye-spy our most wayward elevations. At worst, we might GPS a tricky driveway or pull out an Andrew Barrie map to pinpoint some retiring architecture. But what happens if you really diamond-up the density. At our country-wide 19-people-per-square-kilometre or even downtown Auckland’s sky-high 2500, you can see what’s coming and cities mostly plan out as planned. Teleport forward though to 45,000-people-per-square-kilometre and cities accelerate lives of their own. Here, anything and everything can be lost in the crowd, even buildings. So, on a 2024 invitation from the Bengal Institute for Architecture, Landscape and Settlements to share some Unfinished & Far Far Away adventures in “the toughest city in the world”,1 I pack some extra compassing in architect buddy Murali Bhaskar and go architectural orienteering in Dhaka. It’s hot hot; architecture can wait. We start by looking for water. This, after all, is the land of rivers. Following on from Aotearoa in 2017 being the first to give a specific river, Te Awa Tupua, legal rights, Bangladesh in 2019 became the first country to grant all of its some 700 rivers the same legal status that humans have.2 But the count varies. Protections readily miss smaller tributaries and, with all that water pouring out of the Himalayas and delta-ing into the Bay of Bengal, the land is accretional. The colour and vibrancy of Dhaka life. Image:  Jeremy Smith From the million or so starters in a newly independent 1971 Dhaka, today, it is the fourth-most-populated city in the world with somewhere near 25 million people. Whether for disaster relief, economics or just the bright lights, urbanisation draws more than 400,000 new residents annually to the city. Throw in some family time and, with Tokyo and Shanghai shrinking, Dhaka’s population is predicted to be an eyewatering 35 million by 2050 (and outnumbered only by Delhi and, in some books, Mumbai). When every possible place looks inhabited, it’s not just water that can quickly go to ground. Kazi Khaleed Ashraf, who heads the Bengal Institute, has some learned thinkers in tow in trying to keep pace architecturally. Throw in societal and climatic concerns, and questions about how contextualisation might operate at such speed and the inquiry takes global precedence. Kenneth Frampton, Rounaq Jahan, Suha Özkan, Shamsul Wares and, formerly, BV Doshi, sit on the advisory panel and have drawn other such worldly thinkers as Juhani Pallasmaa, David Leatherbarrow and, even, Peter Stutchbury from down our way to come experience an urban existence “symptomatic of the gravest environmental challenges”.3 It’s serious stuff. Ashraf researches “hydraulic flow in which horizontal and vertical movements of water may direct architectural and landscape formations”.4 This ‘form follows water’ mantra isn’t just free planning Le Corbusier’s ‘form follows function’ with some Charles Correa’s ‘form follows climate’ to connect to life outside, it’s a watery warning to the navigations quickly necessitating within our collective future. Ashraf’s timely prompt that “Embankment is a barrier. How can we deconstruct it”5 can be seen in the way we increasingly plan the separation of wet and dry in our cities. Main streets like Queen Street and Cambridge Terrace already run down streams and our remaining water edges risk becoming increasingly marginalised by infrastructure rising with the water. But the steering is different at density and Dhaka’s rapid growth has meant letting go of the controls with which we still understand cities to flow. As Ashraf puts it, “Dhaka builds furiously”. While we dutifully plan buildings as if crawling a length or two at the aquatic centre, architecture in Dhaka must high-dive into a torrent. Its buildings must learn to surface and really start kicking. Anything trying to hold ground risks being swept away. Dhaka has become a river. As if to university-entrance the swimming lesson to densification, we’ve arrived only a few months after an Indian helicopter plucked Bangladesh’s president from a student-led flood of unrest amongst civil rights and corruption demonstrations. We might think of universities as offering time for trying things on but, sink or swim, the students here now run the country. With the parliament dissolved, there’s no chance of us seeing inside Louis Kahn’s 1982 National Assembly Building, which, like many of Dhaka’s institutional buildings, took on something of a freshening in the coup. Remembering our government’s pre-departure, bold-italic travel advisory, we head out to practise avoiding street demonstrations and are rewarded with a fenced-off view of Kahn’s epic, which brought global architectural discourse to post-independent Bangladesh. No such authoritative access issues back at the university, where, amongst the student political murals, we visit Muzharul Islam’s 1953–1956 Fine Arts Institute. Islam introduced modernism to the then East Pakistan6 and, in testament, the school still functions as a school, with its external verandah circulation and louvred ventilating classrooms. The rallying extends to getting around with cars sporting dodgem bumpers. Travelling 10 kilometres takes an hour, a million beeps and some financial socialising out the windows. Public transport may be working hard to keep pace with the kinetic city but it starts at the back of the grid, as the panelwork to the buses visibly collage. Getting to where we want to go takes some effort. An above-ground subway system has been started but not finished and the folk enticingly riding on top of trains typically aren’t off looking for architecture. There’s the three-wheeled rickshaw option, of course: formerly pedalled but, in recent months, souped-up with the allowance of car batteries to the back axle. Even so, manoeuvring further than nearby takes more than any rider is up for. So, as we head out for lunch with architect Marina Tabassum and then beep beep beep out further to her extraordinary Bait Ur Rouf Jame Mosque in Dhaka’s northern expansion, we learn that having everything close helps. Neighbourhoods remain important in megacities. Marina Tabassum Architects’ Bait Ur Rouf Jame Mosque. Image:  Jeremy Smith The mosque deserves the full medley and gently uplifts as all great architecture does, be it for the community or off-the-street visitors like us. Marina Tabassum Architects is, of course, internationally renowned for its architectural stand against globalised buildings that are out of place and context, notably winning an Aga Khan Award for Architecture in 2016 and being selected to undertake the 2025 Serpentine Pavilion in London. With the site at 13 degrees to the axis of qibla in Mecca, Tabassum sits the mosque on a five-step plinth with a squared, ventilating brick jali and a circular ceilinged prayer space rotated off centre. In a lesson to building only what you need, the spaces between remain unroofed and the perimeter daylight illumination provides a diminished and equalling light to the prayer space. It needs no explanation: look up and there are constellations in the sky; look outwards and find community; look to the mihrab notching the outside wall and orientate to Mecca. Tabassum’s dive is splashless, for the mosque has self-navigated being enveloped by the city. The entry pond may have gone and the mihrab now reveals buildings rather than fields but the light still shines the way. Four hundred people take prayer several times a day within the inner circle, and the weekend Friday crowd spreads outwards to the borders and plinth. We are two days in at this point and our not-getting-lost-practice is going well. We meet architect Salauddin Ahmed whose Atelier Robin Architects studio and gallery in a former tannery building is so hidden away that it feels both lost and right at home. It’s surrounded by the latticing roofs of informal settlements and, remarkably, feels quiet and yet, genuinely, part of the city. No mean feat in a city, “living”, as Ahmed puts it, “as if this is the last day on earth”. Noise is life in Dhaka; Ahmed’s windows are open and the river is flowing. We talk the same language of architecture understanding existing context and needing to accommodate change in shorter and shorter time frames. Where I say “participate”, Ahmed terms “navigate” and without any sense of overseeing for there is just so much life in Dhaka. We mean the same thing and get there from very different landscapes. The next morning, we go where transport can’t. Old Dhaka’s alleyways require some extra eyes, so Ahmed calls in his friend, photographer Khademul Insan, who has lived this labyrinth. This is the densest part of Dhaka and there’s a lot in the air. “Wear this,” says Ahmed, passing a mask. “Otherwise, you’ll cough for four weeks.” It is deep. There’s so much WiFi that it strands like some kind of underworld sun-shading. Our service provider isn’t expecting this kind of roaming and we have no connection. If our collective Kiwi wayfinding skills might have fluked a way in, we certainly need leading out. As the lanes narrow, the industry broadens into some kind of Mad Max circular economy where everything of anything has value and the fires that keep these people afloat run continuously. Mercifully, it’s not raining or there’d be a different type of river afoot. Fifteen kilometres and all day later, we’ve walked to search for culturally significant mosques, houses, courtyards and schools. Some we locate; others, there’s just no finding. Maybe they are there, maybe they aren’t. Occasionally, there are scripts cautioning against graffiti or carving a name into the stonework at the risk of imprisonment, but there are few clues to any architectural history. In the pinch, buildings jostle to just about every possible place a building might go: on top, under, in front, behind. They infill courtyards, hang over laneways, squeeze into gaps, even penalising what’s left of a football field. Every seat is taken, literally. Whenever we find public space off the street, there are couples dating. There’s a lot of romance in 25 million. Eventually, we exit and finally see a river. I remember the swimming lessons are strictly metaphoric and look but don’t touch. You don’t need to get wet to learn how to swim. As Ahmed guides, and he speaks with Ashraf, Tabassum, Insan and experience to what we must remember in densifying our own cities. “I belong to one of the last generations that truly understand what it means to have neighbours.”7 Context counts no matter the size. Our rivers are not yet streams. REFERENCES 1 Kazi Khaleed Ashraf, ‘Note from the Director General: Land, Water and Settlements’. bengal.institute/about Accessed 29.12.2024. 2 Ashley Westerman, 2019, “Should rivers have same legal rights as humans? A growing number of voices say yes”, National Public Radio. npr.org/2019/08/03/740604142 3 August 2019. 3 Kazi Khaleed Ashraf, ‘Note from the Director General: Land, Water and Settlements’. bengal.institute/about Accessed 29.12.2024. 4 Kazi Khaleed Ashraf, ‘Wet Narratives: Architecture Must Recognise that the Future is Fluid’ in The Mother Tongue of Architecture: Selected writings of Kazi Khaleed Ashraf. ORO Editions and Bengal Institute for Architecture, Landscape and Settlements, China: p. 251. 5 Ibid. 6 Adnan Morshed, 2017, ‘Modernism as Postnationalist Politics: Muzharul Islam’s Faculty ofFine Arts (1953–1956)’, Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, 2017. 7 Salauddin Ahmed, 2024, “Design must not be a superimposed idea, but a logical one”, The Daily Star, Dhaka, 25 December 2024.

First-person shooters tend to dominate the gaming landscape, but not every gem gets the recognition it deserves. While Call of Duty, Battlefield, and Halo grab the headlines, there are plenty of under-the-radar FPS games that offer something truly unique

The Mission: Impossible franchise is built on intense Tom Cruise stares, convoluted plot twists and reveals, and incredible stunts. It is not, however, built on compelling stories. Most of the Mission movies are about rogue agents and ill-defined MacGuffins, a repetition that would be annoying if anyone cared about the plots. However, lack of plot clarity does not equate to lack of tension. Most of the movies feature excellent villains who make life difficult for Cruise’s Ethan Hunt and force him to do incredible feats, resulting in the stunts we all love so much. So as the franchise winds down (maybe) with Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning, let’s take a look at the best of the worst: the villains who literally drove Ethan Hunt up a wall or into a giant turbine or hanging from a biplane. Point of clarity, first. While the series does have some fun henchmen like Paris (Pom Klementieff) and some stories have shadowy baddies pulling the strings, such as duplicitous IMF director John Musgrave (Billy Crudup) or the Entity, we’re just looking at main bad guys here, the people who dare to match wills with Ethan Hunt. 7. Sean Ambrose (Mission: Impossible II) Mission: Impossible II almost killed the franchise in its infancy. It seemed like a good idea to bring on director John Woo, a Hong Kong auteur with just as much style as the first film’s director, Brian De Palma. Furthermore, Woo and screenwriter Robert Towne (a Hollywood legend who co-wrote the first movie) base their story on the Alfred Hitchcock movie Notorious, casting Thandiwe Newton in place of Ingrid Bergman as the untrustworthy spy who captures our hero’s heart. The combination proved disastrous. Woo’s melodramatic method clashed with underdeveloped characterizations, a problem particularly clear with M:I2‘s central antagonist, former IMF agent Sean Ambrose, played by Dougray Scott. The legend of how Scott, the first person cast to play Wolverine in 2000’s X-Men, lost the role because of an on-set injury has been told time and again, overshadowing the worse insult, that he’s quite badly used in this movie. Ambrose is intended to be Hunt’s dark double, so much so that he begins the film masquerading as Cruise’s character. But he never has the intensity nor the charisma of his enemy, too often coming off as a sulking man-child than anyone who could threaten Hunt, let alone the world. 6. Kurt Hendricks (Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol) Kurt Hendricks, aka Cobalt, is so much better in conception than in execution. Played by Swedish actor Michael Nyqvist, Hendricks is exactly the type of antagonist who should challenge Ethan Hunt. A true believer in a nihilistic ideology, Hendricks wants to spark a nuclear war between the U.S. and Russia. That extremist belief gives the IMF no choice but to engage in the sort of over-the-top action that makes the franchise so special. The threat posed by Hendricks might send Ethan scaling the Birge Kalifa, but as a person, he’s a nothing onscreen. Nyqvist knows how to play menace, as demonstrated in his many genre roles in his native Sweden, or in American movies like John Wick, but he has nothing to do here but glower. Worse, he’s overshadowed by his minion Sabine (Léa Seydoux), whose personal connection to Hunt’s colleague Jane Carter (Paula Patton) gives her an edge that Hendricks never achieves. The main antagonist of Dead Reckoning and The Final Reckoning, the agent known only as Gabriel (Esai Morales) is set up as Ethan Hunt’s greatest foil. Not only does he apparently have espionage skills even greater than those of our hero, but he was directly responsible for Ethan joining IMF. We learn that Gabriel killed Ethan’s girlfriend Marie and framed him for the murder, which put him on the IMF’s radar. Worse still, Gabriel resurfaces as an acolyte of the all-powerful AI known as the Entity, giving him a driving ethos to match Ethan’s desire to save everyone. On paper there’s nothing wrong with this characterization. In practice it stinks. Dead Reckoning and especially The Final Reckoning suffer from a self-mythologizing that keeps dragging the movie back into the past instead of charging forward, and Gabriel embodies that backwards impulse. Gabriel is given some big moments of evil, directly killing fan favorites Ilsa Faust (Rebecca Ferguson) and Luther Stickell (Ving Rhames), and Morales has fun playing up the villain role, but Gabriel’s worst sin is boring the audience. 4. Jim Phelps (Mission: Impossible) Before we get further, we must be clear: Jim Phelps is a good villain. The fact that he ranks so low here is a testament to the strength of the other baddies, not a knock against Jim. One of the main protagonists of the original 1960s television series (albeit portrayed by Peter Graves instead of Jon Voight), Jim Phelps makes Mission: Impossible into a legacy sequel, connecting the classic series to a new set of heroes. However, Mission: Impossible has a bravery that most legacy sequels lack, turning the former hero into the new villain. Phelps initially seems to die in the attack that takes out most of Hunt’s team at the start of the movie, during a mission that IMF boss Kitteridge later reveals to be a “mole hunt.” However, Phelps returns late in the film as first Ethan’s ally and then his enemy, the true traitor that Kitteridge seeks. Voight brings plenty of gravitas to the role, but he struggles a bit with the stunts at the end—despite the fact that he was 57 when the movie was shot, a year younger than Cruise was when filming on Dead Reckoning began. 3. August Walker (Mission: Impossible – Fallout) Going into Fallout, the buzz was all about the mustache that Henry Cavill grew for the movie. Because he could/would not shave the facial hair for reshoots on Justice League, that movie’s director Joss Whedon had to digitally remove the ‘stache from Cavill’s face, resulting in an infamously absurd looking Superman. It seemed like a petty move at the time, but once we all saw Fallout, we got it. The mustache looks amazing and deserves to stay. Join our mailing list Get the best of Den of Geek delivered right to your inbox! The mustache is important because it sums up Cavill’s character August Walker. Described as a “blunt instrument” assigned to work with (read: spy on) Hunt for CIA Director Erika Sloane (Angela Bassett), Walker proves to be a force of nature who is just as destructive as our hero. Even before he’s revealed to be the malevolent John Lark, the man who the IMF sought in Rogue Nation, Walker proves a credible threat to Ethan. He’s ready to pummel our hero to death at any second—and he looks great doing it. 2. Owen Davian (Mission: Impossible III) For all of the death-defying derring-do in the Mission: Impossible franchise, it’s notable that the scariest moment comes not during one of Ethan Hunt’s feats, but in a line of dialogue. When arms dealer Owen Davian wakes up to discover he’s been captured by IMF, he ignores Ethan’s questions and blithely asks some of his own: “Do you have a wife, a girlfriend? Because you know what I’m gonna do next? I’m gonna find her… and I’m gonna hurt her.” It’s not so much the specific words that Davian says that send a chill down the spine. It’s the way that they’re delivered, completely without passion. Of course Davian is played by Philip Seymour Hoffman, one of the greatest actors of his generation. Hoffman’s ability to play cool and controlled (and, in one memorable scene, play the ever-energetic Ethan Hunt disguised as Davian) elevates the otherwise mundane J.J. Abrams-directed third film. In fact, Hoffman brings so much to the part that it’s hard to notice how bland the writing of Davian is, a demerit that knocks him to second place despite the utterly mesmerizing performance. 1. Solomon Lane (Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation) Owen Davian may talk about killing Ethan’s loved ones, but Solomon Lane actually almost did it. The pure sorrow and terror on sweet Benji’s face when he reveals the bomb strapped to his chest tells us more about Lane’s capacity for evil than any of Davian’s monologues could do. In fact, Lane encapsulates everything about the franchise’s past baddies, perfecting everything they tried to do. He has Davian’s quiet menace, the espionage skills of Gabriel and Ambrose, and he has the twisted worldview of Hendricks. By the time he sends a bomb to the worksite of Ethan’s estranged wife Julia Meade (Michelle Monaghan) out of pure pettiness, Lane even develops a personal animosity like Phelps. Much of the credit goes to Sean Harris, who uses his raspy voice and dark eyes to enhance the malevolence. So much of the Mission: Impossible franchise rests on Cruise’s gift of being earnest on camera, looking out from the screen with yearning blue eyes and a furrowed brow to convince viewers that he can do whatever he intends to do. Harris’ eyes do the exact opposite. When he looks out from the screen, we see pools of blackness, drowning us in nothingness. If Hunt is, as IMF Director Alan Hunley (Alec Baldwin) memorably put it, “the living manifestation of destiny,” then Lane is truly the opposite; the living manifestation of nihilism.

When the sun’s out, your patio deserves to shine too. Whether you’re entertaining guests or simply soaking in the breeze solo, a few key additions can take your outdoors from basic to breathtaking. In this post, we’ve rounded up Amazon’s best summer-ready decor that are FUN-ctional. Get ready to snag them before enjoying your balcony or backyard! Solar Dragonfly Lantern Shop on Amazon This charming sunflower-and-dragonfly lantern casts floral shadows that instantly enchant any patio or garden. It’s solar-powered, waterproof, and a sweet gift for anyone who loves a little fairy-tale glow. Solar Watering Can with Fairy Lights Shop on Amazon Dripping with golden light, this watering-can lantern creates a “shower” of LED sparkles that’s pure summer magic. Customers say it’s a “beautiful addition to your garden”. Smiry Outdoor Rug (Black and Beige) Shop on Amazon This geometric 5×8 patio rug is made of waterproof plastic straw that’s reversible and easy to clean. It’s perfect for BBQs, picnics, and barefoot mornings on the porch. BONZER Outdoor Curtains (Cream) Shop on Amazon Block harsh sunlight while softening your space with these weatherproof, grommet-style outdoor curtains. They’re elegant, thick, and surprisingly budget-friendly for cabana-worthy shade.

To grow, we must forget… but now AI remembers everythingAI’s infinite memory could endanger how we think, grow, and imagine. And we can do something about it.Photo by Laura Fuhrman on UnsplashWhen Mary remembered too muchImagine your best friend — we’ll call her Mary — had perfect, infallible memory.At first, it feels wonderful. She remembers your favorite dishes, obscure movie quotes, even that exact shade of sweater you casually admired months ago. Dinner plans are effortless: “Booked us Giorgio’s again, your favorite — truffle ravioli and Cabernet, like last time,” Mary smiled warmly.But gradually, things become less appealing. Your attempts at variety or exploring something new are gently brushed aside: “Heard about that new sushi place, should we try it?” you suggest. Mary hesitates, “Remember last year? You said sushi wasn’t really your thing. Giorgio’s is safe. Why risk it?”Conversations start to feel repetitive, your identity locked to a cached version of yourself. Mary constantly cites your past preferences as proof of who you still are. The longer this goes on, the smaller your world feels… and comfort begins to curdle into confinement.Now, picture Mary isn’t human, but your personalized AI assistant.A new mode of hyper-personalizationWith OpenAI’s new memory upgrade, ChatGPT can now recall everything you’ve ever shared with it, indefinitely. Similarly, Google has opened the context window with “Infini-attention,” letting large language models (LLMs) reference infinite inputs with zero memory loss. And in consumer-facing tools like ChatGPT or Gemini, this now means persistent, personalized memory across conversations, unless you manually intervene.https://medium.com/media/f1f7978fb8d63f7a1e9f52f051808f44/hrefThe sales pitch is seductively simple: less friction, more relevance. Conversations that feel like continuity: “Systems that get to know you over your life,” as Sam Altman writes on X. Technology, finally, that meets you where you are.In the age of hyper-personalization — of the TikTok For You page, Spotify Wrapped, and Netflix Your Next Watch — a conversational AI product that remembers everything about you feels perfectly, perhaps dangerously, natural.Netflix “knows us.” And we’re conditioned to expect conversational AI to do the same.Forgetting, then, begins to look like a flaw. A failure to retain. A bug in the code. Especially in our own lives, we treat memory loss as a tragedy, clinging to photo albums and cloud backups to preserve what time tries to erase.But what if human forgetting is not a bug, but a feature? And what happens when we build machines that don’t forget, but are now helping shape the human minds that do?Forgetting is a feature of human memory“Infinite memory” runs against the very grain of what it means to be human. Cognitive science and evolutionary biology tell us that forgetting isn’t a design flaw, but a survival advantage. Our brains are not built to store everything. They’re built to let go: to blur the past, to misremember just enough to move forward.Our brains don’t archive data. They encode approximations. Memory is probabilistic, reconstructive, and inherently lossy. We misremember not because we’re broken, but because it makes us adaptable. Memory compresses and abstracts experience into usable shortcuts, heuristics that help us act fast, not recall perfectly.Evolution didn’t optimize our brains to store the past in high fidelity; it optimized us to survive the present. In early humans, remembering too much could be fatal: a brain caught up recalling a saber-tooth tiger’s precise location or exact color would hesitate, but a brain that knows riverbank = danger can act fast.Image generated by ChatGPT.This is why forgetting is essential to survival. Selective forgetting helps us prioritize the relevant, discard the outdated, and stay flexible in changing environments. It prevents us from becoming trapped by obsolete patterns or overwhelmed by noise.And it’s not passive decay. Neuroscience shows that forgetting is an active process: the brain regulates what to retrieve and what to suppress, clearing mental space to absorb new information. In his TED talk, neuroscientist Richard Morris describes the forgetting process as “the hippocampus doing its job… as it clears the desktop of your mind so that you’re ready for the next day to take in new information.”https://medium.com/media/e272064dd59f29c4ca35e808d39e4e72/hrefCrucially, this mental flexibility isn’t just for processing the past; forgetting allows us to imagine the future. Memory’s malleability gives us the ability to simulate, to envision, to choose differently next time. What we lose in accuracy, we gain in possibility.So when we ask why humans forget, the answer isn’t just functional. It’s existential. If we remembered everything, we wouldn’t be more intelligent. We’d still be standing at the riverbank, paralyzed by the precision of memories that no longer serve us.When forgetting is a “flaw” in AI memoryWhere nature embraced forgetting as a survival strategy, we now engineer machines that retain everything: your past prompts, preferences, corrections, and confessions.What sounds like a convenience, digital companions that “know you,” can quietly become a constraint. Unlike human memory, which fades and adapts, infinite memory stores information with fidelity and permanence. And as memory-equipped LLMs respond, they increasingly draw on a preserved version of you, even if that version is six months old and irrelevant.Sound familiar?This pattern of behavior reinforcement closely mirrors the personalization logic driving platforms like TikTok, Instagram, and Facebook. Extensive research has shown how these platforms amplify existing preferences, narrow user perspectives, and reduce exposure to new, challenging ideas — a phenomenon known as filter bubbles or echo chambers.Positive feedback loops are the engine of recommendation algorithms like TikTok, Netflix, and Spotify. From Medium.These feedback loops, optimized for engagement rather than novelty or growth, have been linked to documented consequences including ideological polarization, misinformation spread, and decreased critical thinking.Now, this same personalization logic is moving inward: from your feed to your conversations, and from what you consume to how you think.“Echo chamber to end all echo chambers”Just as the TikTok For You page algorithm predicts your next dopamine hit, memory-enabled LLMs predict and reinforce conversational patterns that align closely with your past behavior, keeping you comfortable inside your bubble of views and preferences.Jordan Gibbs, writing on the dangers of ChatGPT, notes that conversational AI is an “echo chamber to end all echo chambers.” Gibbs points out how even harmless-seeming positive reinforcement can quietly reshape user perceptions and restrict creative or critical thinking.Jordan Gibb’s conversation with ChatGPT from Medium.In one example, ChatGPT responds to Gibb’s claim of being one of the best chess players in the world not with skepticism or critical inquiry, but with encouragement and validation, highlighting how easily LLMs affirm bold, unverified assertions.And with infinite memory enabled, this is no longer a one-off interaction: the personal data point that, “You are one of the very best chess players in the world, ” risks becoming a fixed truth the model reflexively returns to, until your delusion, once tossed out in passing, becomes a cornerstone of your digital self. Not because it’s accurate, but because it was remembered, reinforced, and never challenged.When memory becomes fixed, identity becomes recursive. As we saw with our friend Mary, infinite memory doesn’t just remember our past; it nudges us to repeat it. And while the reinforcement may feel benign, personalized, or even comforting, the history of filter bubbles and echo chambers suggests that this kind of pattern replication rarely leaves room for transformation.What we lose when nothing is lostWhat begins as personalization can quietly become entrapment, not through control, but through familiarity. And in that familiarity, we begin to lose something essential: not just variety, but the very conditions that make change possible.Research in cognitive and developmental psychology shows that stepping outside one’s comfort zone is essential for growth, resilience, and adaptation. Yet, infinite-memory LLM systems, much like personalization algorithms, are engineered explicitly for comfort. They wrap users in a cocoon of sameness by continuously repeating familiar conversational patterns, reinforcing existing user preferences and biases, and avoiding content or ideas that might challenge or discomfort the user.Hyper-personalization traps us in a “comfort cocoon” that prevents from growing and transforming. From Earth.comWhile this engineered comfort may boost short-term satisfaction, its long-term effects are troubling. It replaces the discomfort necessary for cognitive growth with repetitive familiarity, effectively transforming your cognitive gym into a lazy river. Rather than stretching cognitive and emotional capacities, infinite-memory systems risk stagnating them, creating a psychological landscape devoid of intellectual curiosity and resilience.So, how do we break free from this? If the risks of infinite memory are clear, the path forward must be just as intentional. We must design LLM systems that don’t just remember, but also know when and why to forget.How we design to forgetIf the danger of infinite memory lies in its ability to trap us in our past, then the antidote must be rooted in intentional forgetting — systems that forget wisely, adaptively, and in ways aligned with human growth. But building such systems requires action across levels — from the people who use them to those who design and develop them.For users: reclaim agency over your digital selfJust as we now expect to “manage cookies” on websites, toggling consent checkboxes or adjusting ad settings, we may soon expect to manage our digital selves within LLM memory interfaces. But where cookies govern how our data is collected and used by entities, memory in conversational AI turns that data inward. Personal data is not just pipelines for targeted ads; they’re conversational mirrors, actively shaping how we think, remember, and express who we are. The stakes are higher.Memory-equipped LLMs like ChatGPT already offer tools for this. You can review what it remembers about you by going to Settings > Personalization > Memory > Manage. You can delete what’s outdated, refine what’s imprecise, and add what actually matters to who you are now. If something no longer reflects you, remove it. If something feels off, reframe it. If something is sensitive or exploratory, switch to a temporary chat and leave no trace.You can manage and disable memory within ChatGPT by visiting Settings > Personalization.You can also pause or disable memory entirely. Don’t be afraid to do it. There’s a quiet power in the clean slate: a freedom to experiment, shift, and show up as someone new.Guide the memory, don’t leave it ambient. Offer core memories that represent the direction you’re heading, not just the footprints you left behind.For UX designers: design for revision, not just retentionReclaiming memory is a personal act. But shaping how memory behaves in AI products is design decision. Infinite memory isn’t just a technical upgrade; it’s a cognitive interface. And UX designers are now curating the mental architecture of how people evolve, or get stuck.Forget “opt in” or “opt out.” Memory management shouldn’t live in buried toggles or forgotten settings menus. It should be active, visible, and intuitive: a first-class feature, not an afterthought. Users need interfaces that not only show what the system remembers, but also how those memories are shaping what they see, hear, and get suggested. Not just visibility, but influence tracing.ChatGPT’s current memory interface enables users to manage memories, but it is static and database-like.While ChatGPT’s memory UI offers user control over their memories, it reads like a black-and-white database: out or in. Instead of treating memory as a static archive, we should design it as a living layer, structured more like a sketchpad than a ledger: flexible and revisable. All of this is hypothetical, but here’s what it could look like:Memory Review Moments: Built-in check-ins that ask, “You haven’t referenced this in a while — keep, revise, or forget?” Like Rocket Money nudging you to review subscriptions, the system becomes a gentle co-editor, helping surface outdated or ambiguous context before it quietly reshapes future behavior.Time-Aware Metadata: Memories don’t age equally. Show users when something was last used, how often it comes up, or whether it’s quietly steering suggestions. Just like Spotify highlights “recently played,” memory interfaces could offer temporal context that makes stored data feel navigable and self-aware.Memory Tiers: Not all information deserves equal weight. Let users tag “Core Memories” that persist until manually removed, and set others as short-term or provisional — notes that decay unless reaffirmed.Inline Memory Controls: Bring memory into the flow of conversation. Imagine typing, and a quiet note appears: “This suggestion draws on your July planning — still accurate?” Like version history in Figma or comment nudges in Google Docs, these lightweight moments let users edit memory without switching contexts.Expiration Dates & Sunset Notices: Some memories should come with lifespans. Let users set expiration dates — “forget this in 30 days unless I say otherwise.” Like calendar events or temporary access links, this makes forgetting a designed act, not a technical gap.Image a Miro-like memory board where users could prioritize, annotate, and link memories.Sketchpad Interfaces: Finally, break free from the checkbox UI. Imagine memory as a visual canvas: clusters of ideas, color-coded threads, ephemeral notes. A place to link thoughts, add context, tag relevance. Think Miro meets Pinterest for your digital identity, a space that mirrors how we actually think, shift, and remember.When designers build memory this way, they create more than tools. They create mirrors with context, systems that grow with us instead of holding us still.For AI developers: engineer forgetting as a featureTo truly support transformation, UX needs infrastructure. The design must be backed by technical memory systems that are fluid, flexible, and capable of letting go. And that responsibility falls to developers: not just to build tools for remembering, but to engineer forgetting as a core function.This is the heart of my piece: we can’t talk about user agency, growth, or identity without addressing how memory works under the hood. Forgetting must be built into the LLM system itself, not as a failsafe, but as a feature.One promising approach, called adaptive forgetting, mimics how humans let go of unnecessary details while retaining important patterns and concepts. Researchers demonstrate that when LLMs periodically erase and retrain parts of their memory, especially early layers that store word associations, they become better at picking up new languages, adapting to new tasks, and doing so with less data and computing power.Photo by Valentin Tkach for Quanta MagazineAnother more accessible path forward is in Retrieval-Augmented Generation (RAG). A new method called SynapticRAG, inspired by the brain’s natural timing and memory mechanisms, adds a sense of temporality to AI memory. Models recall information not just based on content, but also on when it happened. Just like our brains prioritize recent memories, this method scores and updates AI memories based on both their relevance and relevance, allowing it to retrieve more meaningful, diverse, and context-rich information. Testing showed that this time-aware system outperforms traditional memory tools in multilingual conversations by up to 14.66% in accuracy, while also avoiding redundant or outdated responses.Together, adaptive forgetting and biologically inspired memory retrieval point toward a more human kind of AI: systems that learn continuously, update flexibly, and interact in ways that feel less like digital tape recorders and more like thoughtful, evolving collaborators.To grow, we must choose to forgetSo the pieces are all here: the architectural tools, the memory systems, the design patterns. We’ve shown that it’s technically possible for AI to forget. But the question isn’t just whether we can. It’s whether we will.Of course, not all AI systems need to forget. In high-stakes domains — medicine, law, scientific research — perfect recall can be life-saving. However, this essay is about a different kind of AI: the kind we bring into our daily lives. The ones we turn to for brainstorming, emotional support, writing help, or even casual companionship. These are the systems that assist us, observe us, and remember us. And if left unchecked, they may start to define us.We’ve already seen what happens when algorithms optimize for comfort. What begins as personalization becomes repetition. Sameness. Polarization. Now that logic is turning inward: no longer just curating our feeds, but shaping our conversations, our habits of thought, our sense of self. But we don’t have to follow the same path.We can build LLM systems that don’t just remember us, but help us evolve. Systems that challenge us to break patterns, to imagine differently, to change. Not to preserve who we were, but to make space for who we might yet become, just as our ancestors did.Not with perfect memory, but with the courage to forget.To grow, we must forget… but AI remembers everything was originally published in UX Collective on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.