As AI faces court challenges from Disney and Universal, legal battles are shaping the industry's future | Opinion Silicon advances and design innovations do still push us forward – but the future landscape of the industry is also being sculpted in courtrooms and parliaments Image credit: Disney / Epic Games Opinion by Rob Fahey Contributing Editor Published on June 13, 2025 In some regards, the past couple of weeks have felt rather reassuring. We've just seen a hugely successful launch for a new Nintendo console, replete with long queues for midnight sales events. Over the next few days, the various summer events and showcases that have sprouted amongst the scattered bones of E3 generated waves of interest and hype for a host of new games. It all feels like old times. It's enough to make you imagine that while change is the only constant, at least it's we're facing change that's fairly well understood, change in the form of faster, cheaper silicon, or bigger, more ambitious games. If only the winds that blow through this industry all came from such well-defined points on the compass. Nestled in amongst the week's headlines, though, was something that's likely to have profound but much harder to understand impacts on this industry and many others over the coming years – a lawsuit being brought by Disney and NBC Universal against Midjourney, operators of the eponymous generative AI image creation tool. In some regards, the lawsuit looks fairly straightforward; the arguments made and considered in reaching its outcome, though, may have a profound impact on both the ability of creatives and media companies (including game studios and publishers) to protect their IP rights from a very new kind of threat, and the ways in which a promising but highly controversial and risky new set of development and creative tools can be used commercially. A more likely tack on Midjourney's side will be the argument that they are not responsible for what their customers create with the tool I say the lawsuit looks straightforward from some angles, but honestly overall it looks fairly open and shut – the media giants accuse Midjourney of replicating their copyrighted characters and material, and of essentially building a machine for churning out limitless copyright violations. The evidence submitted includes screenshot after screenshot of Midjourney generating pages of images of famous copyrighted and trademarked characters ranging from Yoda to Homer Simpson, so "no we didn't" isn't going to be much of a defence strategy here. A more likely tack on Midjourney's side will be the argument that they are not responsible for what their customers create with the tool – you don't sue the manufacturers of oil paints or canvases when artists use them to paint something copyright-infringing, nor does Microsoft get sued when someone writes something libellous in Word, and Midjourney may try to argue that their software belongs in that tool category, with users alone being ultimately responsible for how they use them. If that argument prevails and survives appeals and challenges, it would be a major triumph for the nascent generative AI industry and a hugely damaging blow to IP holders and creatives, since it would seriously undermine their argument that AI companies shouldn't be able to include copyrighted material into training data sets without licensing or compensation. The reason Disney and NBCU are going after Midjourney specifically seems to be partially down to Midjourney being especially reticent to negotiate with them about licensing fees and prompt restrictions; other generative AI firms have started talking, at least, about paying for content licenses for training data, and have imposed various limitations on their software to prevent the most egregious and obvious forms of copyright violation (at least for famous characters belonging to rich companies; if you're an individual or a smaller company, it's entirely the Wild West out there as regards your IP rights). In the process, though, they're essentially risking a court showdown over a set of not-quite-clear legal questions at the heart of this dispute, and if Midjourney were to prevail in that argument, other AI companies would likely back off from engaging with IP holders on this topic. To be clear, though, it seems highly unlikely that Midjourney will win that argument, at least not in the medium to long term. Yet depending on how this case moves forward, losing the argument could have equally dramatic consequences – especially if the courts find themselves compelled to consider the question of how, exactly, a generative AI system reproduces a copyrighted character with such precision without storing copyright-infringing data in some manner. The 2020s are turning out to be the decade in which many key regulatory issues come to a head all at once AI advocates have been trying to handwave around this notion from the outset, but at some point a court is going to have to sit down and confront the fact that the precision with which these systems can replicate copyrighted characters, scenes, and other materials requires that they must have stored that infringing material in some form. That it's stored as a scattered mesh of probabilities across the vertices of a high-dimensional vector array, rather than a straightforward, monolithic media file, is clearly important but may ultimately be considered moot. If the data is in the system and can be replicated on request, how that differs from Napster or The Pirate Bay is arguably just a matter of technical obfuscation. Not having to defend that technical argument in court thus far has been a huge boon to the generative AI field; if it is knocked over in that venue, it will have knock-on effects on every company in the sector and on every business that uses their products. Nobody can be quite sure which of the various rocks and pebbles being kicked on this slope is going to set off the landslide, but there seems to be an increasing consensus that a legal and regulatory reckoning is coming for generative AI. Consequently, a lot of what's happening in that market right now has the feel of companies desperately trying to establish products and lock in revenue streams before that happens, because it'll be harder to regulate a technology that's genuinely integrated into the world's economic systems than it is to impose limits on one that's currently only clocking up relatively paltry sales and revenues. Keeping an eye on this is crucial for any industry that's started experimenting with AI in its workflows – none more than a creative industry like video games, where various forms of AI usage have been posited, although the enthusiasm and buzz so far massively outweighs any tangible benefits from the technology. Regardless of what happens in legal and regulatory contexts, AI is already a double-edged sword for any creative industry. Used judiciously, it might help to speed up development processes and reduce overheads. Applied in a slapdash or thoughtless manner, it can and will end up wreaking havoc on development timelines, filling up storefronts with endless waves of vaguely-copyright-infringing slop, and potentially make creative firms, from the industry's biggest companies to its smallest indie developers, into victims of impossibly large-scale copyright infringement rather than beneficiaries of a new wave of technology-fuelled productivity. The legal threat now hanging over the sector isn't new, merely amplified. We've known for a long time that AI generated artwork, code, and text has significant problems from the perspective of intellectual property rights (you can infringe someone else's copyright with it, but generally can't impose your own copyright on its creations – opening careless companies up to a risk of having key assets in their game being technically public domain and impossible to protect). Even if you're not using AI yourself, however – even if you're vehemently opposed to it on moral and ethical grounds (which is entirely valid given the highly dubious land-grab these companies have done for their training data), the Midjourney judgement and its fallout may well impact the creative work you produce yourself and how it ends up being used and abused by these products in future. This all has huge ramifications for the games business and will shape everything from how games are created to how IP can be protected for many years to come – a wind of change that's very different and vastly more unpredictable than those we're accustomed to. It's a reminder of just how much of the industry's future is currently being shaped not in development studios and semiconductor labs, but rather in courtrooms and parliamentary committees. The ways in which generative AI can be used and how copyright can persist in the face of it will be fundamentally shaped in courts and parliaments, but it's far from the only crucially important topic being hashed out in those venues. The ongoing legal turmoil over the opening up of mobile app ecosystems, too, will have huge impacts on the games industry. Meanwhile, the debates over loot boxes, gambling, and various consumer protection aspects related to free-to-play models continue to rumble on in the background. Because the industry moves fast while governments move slow, it's easy to forget that that's still an active topic for as far as governments are concerned, and hammers may come down at any time. Regulation by governments, whether through the passage of new legislation or the interpretation of existing laws in the courts, has always loomed in the background of any major industry, especially one with strong cultural relevance. The games industry is no stranger to that being part of the background heartbeat of the business. The 2020s, however, are turning out to be the decade in which many key regulatory issues come to a head all at once, whether it's AI and copyright, app stores and walled gardens, or loot boxes and IAP-based business models. Rulings on those topics in various different global markets will create a complex new landscape that will shape the winds that blow through the business, and how things look in the 2030s and beyond will be fundamentally impacted by those decisions.

“I want to make a big announcement,” said Faryar Shirzad, the chief policy officer of Coinbase, to a nearly empty room. His words echoed across the massive hall at the Bitcoin Conference, deep in the caverns of The Venetian Expo in Las Vegas, and it wasn’t apparent how many people were watching on the livestream. Then again, somebody out there may have been interested in the panelists he was interviewing, one of whom was unusual by Bitcoin Conference standards: Chris LaCivita, the political consultant who’d co-chaired Donald Trump’s 2024 presidential campaign. “I am super proud to say it on this stage,” Shirzad continued, addressing the dozens of people scattered across 5,000 chairs. “We have just become a major sponsor of the America250 effort.” My jaw dropped. Coinbase, the world’s largest crypto exchange, the owner of 12 percent of the world’s Bitcoin supply, and listed on the S&P 500, was paying for Trump to hold a military parade.No wonder they made the announcement in an empty room. Today was “Code and Country”: an entire day of MAGA-themed panels on the Nakamoto Main Stage, full of Republican legislators, White House officials, and political operatives, all of whom praised Trump as the savior of the crypto world. But Code and Country was part of Industry Day, which was VIP only and closed to General Admission holders — the people with the $199 tickets, who flocked to the conference seeking wisdom from brilliant technologists and fabulously wealthy crypto moguls, who believed that decentralized currency on a blockchain could not be controlled by government authoritarians. They’d have drowned Shirzad in boos if they saw him give money to Donald Trump’s campaign manager, and they would have stormed the Nakamoto stage if they knew the purpose of America250. America250 is a nonprofit established by Congress during Barack Obama’s presidency with a mundane mission: to plan the nationwide festivities for July 4th, 2026, the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. “Who remembers the Bicentennial in 1976?” the co-chair, former U.S. Treasurer Rosie Rios, asked the crowd. “I remember it like it was yesterday, and this one is going to be bigger and better.” But then Trump got re-elected, appointed LaCivita as co-chair, and suddenly, the party was starting earlier. The week before the conference, America250 announced that it would host a “Grand Military Parade” on June 14th to celebrate the U.S. Army’s 250th birthday, releasing tickets for prime seats along the parade route and near the Washington Monument on their website, hosting other festivities on the National Mall, and credentialing the press covering the event. (Their celebrations and events are a different operation from the U.S. Army, which had never planned for a parade to celebrate its 250th birthday, much less a military parade, but is now spending up to $45 million in taxpayer dollars to make the parade happen.) According to the most recent statements from Army officials, the parade will include hundreds of cannons, dozens of Black Hawk and Chinook helicopters, fighter jets, bombers, and 150 military vehicles, including Bradley Fighting Vehicles, Stryker Fighting Vehicles, Humvees, and if the logistics work out, 25 (or more) M1 Abrams tanks. Trump had spent years trying to get the government to throw a military parade — primarily because he’d attended a Bastille Day parade in France and became jealous — and now that he was back in office, he’d finally eliminated everyone in the government who previously told him that the budget didn’t exist for such a parade, that the tank treads would ruin the streets and collapse the bridges, that the optics of tanks, guns and soldiers marching down Constitution Avenue were too authoritarian and fascist. June 14th also happens to be Donald Trump’s birthday.And Coinbase, whose CEO once told his employees to stop bringing politics into the workplace, was now footing the bill — if not for this military parade watch party, then for the one inevitably happening next year, when America actually turns 250, or any other festivities between now and then that may or may not fall on Trump’s birthday. (This wasn’t the first party they helped fund, though. Earlier this year, Coinbase wrote a $1 million check to Trump’s inauguration committee. One month later, the SEC announced that it was dropping an investigation into Coinbase.) I had to keep reminding myself that I was at the Bitcoin Conference. I’d been desperately looking for the goofy, degenerate party vibes that my coworkers who’d covered previous crypto conferences told me about: inflated swans with QR codes. Multimillionaires strolling around the Nakamoto Stage in shiba inu pajamas. Folks who communicated in memes and acronyms. Celebrity athletes who were actual celebrities. “Bitcoin yoga,” whatever that was. Afterparties with drugs, lots of drugs, and probably the mind-bending designer kind. And hey, Las Vegas was the global capital of goofy, degenerate partying. But no, I was stuck in a prolonged flashback to every single Republican event I’ve covered over the past ten years – Trump rallies, conservative conferences, GOP conventions, and MAGA fundraisers, with Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA” playing on an endless loop. There was an emcee endlessly praising Trump, encouraging the audience to clap for Trump, and reminding everyone about how great it was that Trump spoke at the Conference last year, which all sounds even stranger when said in an Australian accent. In addition to LaCivita, there were four GOP Congressmen, four GOP Senators, one Trump-appointed SEC Commissioner, one Treasury Official, two senior White House officials (including David Sacks, the White House crypto and A.I. czar), and two of Trump’s sons. All of them, too, spent time praising Trump as the first “crypto president.” (Vice President J.D. Vance would be speaking the next day to the general admission crowd, but he was probably going to praise Trump, too.) The titles of the panels seemed to be run through some sort of MAGA generative AI system: The Next Golden Age of America. The American Super Grid. Making America the Global Bitcoin Superpower. The New Declaration of Independence: Bitcoin and the Path Out of the U.S. National Debt Crisis. (Speaker: Vivek Ramaswamy.) Uncancleable: Bitcoin, Rumble & Free Speech Technology. (Speaker: Donald Trump Jr.) The only difference was that this MAGA conference was funded by crypto. And if crypto was paying for a MAGA conference, and they had to play “God Bless the USA,” they were bringing in a string quartet.Annoyed that I had not yet seen a single Shiba Inu — no, Jim Justice’s celebrity bulldog was not the same thing — I left Nakamoto and went back to the press area. It hadn’t turned into Fox News yet, but I could see MAGA’s presence seeping into the world of podcasters and vloggers. A Newsmax reporter (great blowout, jewel-toned sheath dress, heels to the heavens, very camera-ready) was interviewing White House official Bo Hines (clean-cut, former Yale football player and GOP congressional candidate, nice suit), right before he was hustled onstage for a panel with a member of the U.S. Treasury. Soon, Rep. Byron Donalds (R-FL) was doing an interview gauntlet while his senior aides stood by, one wearing a pink plaid blazer that could have easily been Brooks Brothers. Over on the Genesis Stage, the CEO of PragerU, a right wing media company that attacks higher education, was interviewing the CEO of the 1792 Exchange, a right-wing nonprofit that attacks companies for engaging in “woke business practices” such as diversity initiatives. (Leveraging Bitcoin’s Values to Shift the Culture in America.) I walked into the main expo center, past a crypto podcaster in a sequined bomber jacket talking to a Wall Street Journal reporter. For some reason, his presence was a relief. Even though he was clearly a Trump supporter — his jacket said TRUMP: THE GOLDEN AGE on the back — there was something more janky and homegrown, less corporate, about him. But the moment I looked up and saw a massive sign that said STEAKTOSHI, the unease returned. A ghoulish-looking group of executives from Steak ‘n Shake, the fast food company with over 450 locations across the globe, had gathered under the sign in a replica of the restaurant. They were selling jars of beef tallow, with a choice of grass-fed or Wagyu, and giving out a MAKE FRYING OIL TALLOW AGAIN hat with every purchase an overt embrace of the right-wing conspiracy that cooking with regular seed oils would lower one’s testosterone. (Relevant to the conference: they were also advertising that their restaurants now accepted Bitcoin.)Andrew Gordon, the head of Main Street Crypto PAC, had been to five previous Bitcoin Conferences and worked on crypto tax policy since 2014. He’d seen Trump speak at the last conference in Nashville during the election, and the audience – not typically unquestioning MAGA superfans – had melted into adoring goo in Trump’s presence. But now that Trump was using his presidential powers to establish a Bitcoin reserve, roll back federal investigations into crypto companies, and order massive changes to financial regulatory policies — in short, changing the entire market on crypto’s behalf with the stroke of a pen — Gordon clocked a notable vibe shift this year. “There are people wearing suits at a Bitcoin conference,” he told me wryly back in the press lounge. (He, too, was wearing a suit). The change wasn’t due to a new breed of Suit People flooding in. It was the Bitcoin veterans the ones who’d been coming to the conference for years, dressed in loud Versace jackets or old holey t-shirts – who were now in business attire. “They’re now recognizing the level of formality and how serious it is.”According to the Bitcoin Conference organizers, out of the 35,000-plus attendees in Vegas this year, 17.1 percent of them were categorized as “institutional and corporate decision-makers” — a vague way to describe politicians, corporate executives, and the rest of the C-suite world. Whenever they weren’t speaking onstage, they were conducting interviews with outlets hand-selected from dozens of media requests that had been filtered through the conference organizers, or in Q&A sessions with people who’d bought the $21,000 Whale Pass and could access the VIP Lounge. (Yes, the industry-only day of the conference had an even more exclusive tier.) They were sidebarring with crypto CEOs outside the conference for round tables, privately meeting Senators for lunch and White House officials for dinner. Gordon himself had just held a private breakfast for industry insiders, with GOP Senators Marsha Blackburn and Cynthia Lummis as special guests. And for the very, very wealthy, MAGA Inc., Trump’s primary super PAC, was holding a fundraising dinner in Vegas that night, with Vance, Don Jr., and Eric Trump in attendance. That ticket, according to The Washington Post, cost $1 million per person.It was the kind of amoral, backroom behavior that would have sent the General Admission attendees into a rage — and they did the next day, when the convention opened to them. During one extremely packed talk at the Genesis Stage called Are Bitcoiners Becoming Sycophants of the State?, a moderator asked the four panelists what they’d like to say to Vance and Sacks and all the politicians who’d been there yesterday. And Erik Cason erupted.“‘What you’re doing is actually immoral and bad. You hurt people. You actively want to use the state to implement violence against others.’ 
That’s like, fucked up and wrong,” said Cason, the author of “Cryptosovereignty,” to a crowd of hundreds. “If you personally wanna like, go to Yemen and try to stab those people, that’s on you. But asking other people to go do that – it is a fucked up and terrible thing.” He grew more heated. “And also fuck you. You’re not, like, a king. You’re supposed to be liable to the law, too. 
And I don’t appreciate you trying to think that that you just get to advance the state however the fuck you want, because you have power.”“These are the violent thugs who killed hundreds of millions of people over the last century,” agreed Bruce Fenton of Chainstone Labs. “They have nothing on us. All we wanna do is run some code and trade it around our nerd money. Leave us alone.”The audience burst into cheers and applause. Bitcoin was the promise of freedom from the government, who’d murdered and stolen and tried to control their lives, and now that their wealth was on the blockchain, no one could take their sovereignty. “Personally, I don’t really care what they [the politicians] think,” said American HODL, whose title on the conference site was “guy with 6.15 bitcoin,” the derision clear in his voice. “They are employees who work for us, so their thoughts and opinions on the matter are irrelevant. Do what the fuck we tell you to do.
 I don’t work for you. I’m not underneath you. You’re underneath me.” But the politicians weren’t going to listen to them, much less talk to them. The politicians spent the conference surrounded by aides and security who stopped people from approaching – I’m sorry, the Senator has to leave for an engagement now – or safely inside the VIP rooms with the $21,000-dollar Whale Pass holders and the million-dollar donors. By the time American HODL said that the politicians worked for him, they were on flights out of Vegas, having gotten what they wanted from Code and Country, an event that was closed to General Admission pass holders.Coinbase’s executives were at Code and Country, however. Coinbase held over 984,000 Bitcoin, more coins than American HODL could mine in a lifetime. And Coinbase was now a sponsor of Donald Trump’s birthday military parade. The Nakamoto Stage during Code + Country at the Bitcoin Conference.After David Sacks and the Winklevoss twins finished explaining how Trump had saved the crypto industry from Sen. Elizabeth Warren (or as one Winklevoss called her, “Pocahontas”), I was jonesing for a drink. A few other reporters on the ground had told me about “Code, Country and Cocktails,” the America250 afterparty held at the Ayu Dayclub at Resort World, and I signed up immediately. Reporters at past Bitcoin Conferences had promised legendary side-event depravity, and I hoped I would find it there. As I entered the lush, tropical nightclub, I saw two white-gloved hands sticking out the side of the wall, each holding a glass of champagne at crotch level. I reached out for a flute, thinking it was maybe just a fucked-up piece of art, and gasped as the hand let go of the stem, disappeared into the hole, and emerged seconds later with another full champagne glass. Past the champagne glory hole wall — there was really no other way to describe it — was a massive outdoor swimming pool, surrounded by chefs serving up endless portions of steak frites, unguarded magnums of Moët casually stacked in ice buckets, the professional Beautiful Women of Las Vegas draped around Peter Schiff, the famous economist/podcaster/Bitcoin skeptic. When not booked for private events, the crescent-shaped pool at Ayu would be filled with drunk people in swim suits, dancing to DJ Kaskade. No one was in the pool tonight. Depravity was not happening here. In fact, there was more networking going on than partying, and it was somehow more engaging than Bone Thugs-N-Harmony suddenly appearing onstage to perform. And it was distinctly not just about making money in crypto. A good percentage of this crowd wore some derivative of a MAGA hat, and anyone who could show off their photos of them with Trump did so. This, I realized, was how crypto bros did politics — a new game for them, where success and influence was not necessarily quantifiable. “Crypto got Trump elected,” Greg Grseziak, an agent who manages crypto influencers, told me, showing me his Trump photo opp. “In four years, this is going to be the biggest event in the presidential race.”Grzesiak walked off to do more networking, I finished my glory hole champagne, and in the meantime, Bone Thugs had started performing “East 1999”. A fellow reporter leaned over. “Who do you think those guys are?” he asked, pointing to a group of extremely tall white men in suits and lanyards, standing behind a velvet rope to the left of the stage.I walked over to investigate. They looked like the group of Steak ‘n Shake executives I met at the Expo Hall — the ones with the beef tallow jars and derivative MAGA hats — and they were lurking next to the stage, watching the rappers like vultures but barely moving to the music. This scene was too preposterous to actually be real: Steak ‘n Shake executives, at the Bitcoin Conference, attending a party for America250, in the VIP section, during a Bone Thugs-n-Harmony set? “Shout out to Steak ‘n Shake for being the first fast food restaurant to accept Bitcoin!” announced one of the Bones. The company logo appeared on a screen above his head.No flashy Vegas magic (or dancers in cow costumes, now shimmying onstage with Steak ‘n Shake signs) could mask what I just saw. This party was co-sponsored by a MAGA-branded fast-food chain owned by Sardar Biglari, a businessman who had purchased Maxim, became its editor-in-chief, and used the smutty magazine to endorse Trump in 2024. So was Frax, the stablecoin exchange, and Exodus, one of the biggest crypto wallet companies in the market. Bitcoin Magazine’s logo flashed across the stage at one point, as editor-in-chief David Bailey, in his own derivative MAGA hat, tried to hype up the crowd for J.D. Vance’s speech the next day. (“You only get to live history once,” he said, to faint cheers.)For some unknown reason, these companies were all putting their money into America250, and as I had to keep reminding myself, America250 — the government nonprofit in charge of planning the country’s celebrations of the 250th anniversary of the Declaration’s signing — was currently working to get tanks in the streets of Washington DC for Donald Trump’s birthday. I went for one last champagne flute from the glory hole, just for the novelty, and as the hand disappeared back into the wall, I caught something I’d missed earlier: above the hole was a logo for TRON, the blockchain exchange run by billionaire Justin Sun. He had faced several fraud investigations from the SEC that magically disappeared after he invested $75 million in a Trump family crypto company, and seemed more than happy to keep throwing crypto money at Trump. Recently, he won the $TRUMP meme coin dinner, spending over $16 million on the token in exchange for a private and controversial dinner with the president.TRON was also cosponsoring the America250 party.Earlier, I’d run into the Australian emcee in the elevator of The Palazzo. She’d spent the day teetering across the Nakamoto Stage in dainty kitten heels, a pinstriped blazer and miniskirt suit set, and given the gratuitous Trump praising and the fact she was blonde, I had stereotyped her as MAGA to the core. But the program was over and she was holding her heels by their ankle straps, barefoot and sighing in relief. This was not her usual style, she told an attendee. She’d take a pair of sneakers over heels if she could. But the conference organizers had told her to dress up because there were senators in attendance. “Tomorrow, the real Bitcoiners are coming,” she said, and she’d get to wear flat shoes. And the next morning, on the day of Vance’s speech, I found myself stuck outside the conference with the “real Bitcoiners.” In spite of all the emails that the conference had sent me reminding me of how strict security measures would be, possibly to overcorrect from last year’s utter shitshow around Trump’s appearance, I’d woken up too late, eaten my bagel too leisurely, got sidetracked by a police officer-turned-Bitcoin investor excited I was wearing orange (whoops), and barely missed the cutoff for the Secret Service to let me in. But the conference had set up televisions with a live feed of Vance’s speech, and the rest of the general admission attendees were remarkably chill about it, opting to mingle in the hallways until the Secret Service left. I found myself in a smaller crowd near the expo hall door, next to a young man carrying a live miniature Shiba Inu (“It’s a tiny doge!” he said proudly), and the podcaster I’d seen earlier in the sequined bomber jacket. He introduced himself as Action CEO, and with nothing else to do but wait — “You can watch the [Vance] replay,” he reassured me, “these events are mainly about networking” — we got to talking. “I’m actually excited that Trump isn’t even here, I’ll be honest with you,” he said, speaking with a rapid cadence. Trump was ultimately just one guy, and the fact that he sent his underlings and political allies — the ones who could actually implement his grand promises for the crypto industry — proved he hadn’t just been paying lip service. That said, it had come with some uncomfortable changes, including the re-emergence of Justin Sun. “It’s a little bit concerning when you say, All right, we don’t care what you did in the past. Come on out, clean slate,” he continued. “That’s the concern right now for most people. Seeing people that did wrong by the space coming back and acting like nothing happened? That’s a little concerning.” And not just that: Sun was back in the United States, having dinner with Trump, and giving him millions of dollars. “If you’re sitting in a room and having a conversation, people are literally gonna go, yeah, it’s kind of sketch that this guy is back here after everything that’s happened. You’re not gonna see it published, because it’s not a popular opinion, but we’re all definitely talking about it.” If Action’s friends weren’t comfortable talking about it openly, that fraudsters with enough money were suddenly back in the mix, it was certainly not the kind of conversation the CEOs were going to have in front of the General Admission crowd. (Though it did mean that the emcee, looking much happier than she did the day before, got to wear low-heeled boots and shorts.) But behind closed doors — or at least at the Code and Country panels, where the base pass attendees couldn’t boo them — they gave a sense of what their backroom conversations with the Trump administration did look like.“I was actually at a dinner last night and one of the things that someone from the admin said was, What if we give you guys everything you want and then you guys forget? Because there’s midterms in 2026, and hopefully 2028, and beyond,” said Sam Kazemian, the founder and CEO of Frax, which had sponsored the America250 party. “But one of the things I said was: We as an industry are very, very loyal. The crypto community has a very, very, very strong memory. And once this industry is legalized, is transparent, is safe, all of the big players understand that this wasn’t possible without this administration, this Congress, this Senate. We’re lifelong, career-long allies.”“Loyalty” is a dangerous concept with this president, who’s cheated on his three wives, stopped paying the legal fees for employees who’d taken the fall for him, ended the careers of sympathetic MAGA Republicans for insufficiently coddling him, withdrew security for government employees experiencing death threats for the sin of contradicting him in public by citing facts. It was only weeks ago that he and Vance were publicly screaming at Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky, who was at the White House to request more aid in the war against Russia, for not saying “thank you” in front of the cameras. It would be less than a week before he began threatening to cancel all of Elon Musk’s government contracts when the billionaire criticized the size of Trump’s budget, even though Musk had given him millions and helped him purge the government. And if you were to find a photo of any political leader, billionaire or CEO standing vacant-eyed next to Trump and shaking his hand, the circumstances are practically a given: they had recently made him unhappy, either for criticizing him, making an imagined slight, or simply asserting themselves. The only way they could avoid public humiliation, or their businesses being crushed via executive order, was to go to Mar-a-Lago, tell the world that the president was wonderful, and underwrite a giant party for his birthday military parade. Maybe Kazemian knew he was being tested, or maybe the 32-year old Ron Paul superfan had no idea what the administration was asking of him. Either way, he responded correctly. At least one person at the conference was thinking about ways that the government could betray the Bitcoin community. As the panel on Bitcoiners becoming sycophants of the state wrapped up, and the other panelists finished telling the government pigs to go fuck themselves and keep their hands off their nerd money, the moderator turned to Casey Rodarmor, a software engineer-turned-crypto influencer, for the last question: “Tell everyone here why Bitcoin wins, regardless of what happens.”“Oh, man, I don’t know if Bitcoin wins, regardless of what happens,” he responded, frowning. He had already gamed out one feasible situation where Bitcoin lost: “If we all of a sudden saw a very rapid inflation in a lot of fiat currencies, and there was a plausible scapegoat in Bitcoin all over the world, and they were able to make a sort of marketing claim that Bitcoin is causing this — Bitcoin is making your savings go to zero, it’s causing this carnage to the economy — 
If that happens worldwide, I think that’s really scary.” The moderator froze, the crowd murmured nervously, and I thought about the number of times Trump had blamed a group of people for problems they’d never caused. An awful lot of them were now being deported. “I take that seriously,” Rodarmor continued. “I don’t know that Bitcoin will succeed. I think that Bitcoin is incredibly strong, it’s incredibly difficult to fuck up. But in that case… man, I don’t know.” I had asked Action CEO earlier if Kazemian, the Frax CEO, was right — if the crypto world was unquestioningly loyal to Trump, if their support of him was unconditional. “Oh, it’s definitely conditional,” he said without hesitation, as his Trump jacket glittered under the fluorescent lights. “It’s a matter of, are you going to be doing the right things by us, by the people who are here?” We walked down the expo hall, past booths promising life-changing technological marvels, alongside thousands of people flooding into Nakamoto Hall, ready to learn how to become unfathomably rich, who paid $199 to be there.The audience of “Are Bitcoiners Becoming Sychophants of the State?”, Day Two of the Bitcoin ConferenceSee More:

The anime summer season is close — and there will be lots of big names for us to look forward to. In such a packed season, Gachiakuta is one of the most anticipated and Crunchyroll just dropped a new trailer for the show which is airing next month July 6, 2025, alongside some details on the voice actors we are going to see giving life to important characters. The show is an adaptation of the manga written by Kei Urana and it has been published by Kodansha in their Weekly Shonen Magazine since 2022. Gachiakuta is Urana’s first series after her two one-shots – Nokase (2018) and Shikido (2019) – and this year the show is receiving the anime treatment by the hands of studio Bones Films, the one responsible for Vigilante: Boku no Hero Academia ILLEGALS. In this new trailer, we learn more about the world of Gachiakuta, which we have only seen some flashes of in the announcement trailer. This second trailer gives us an idea of why Rudo, the show’s protagonist, ends up in the Pit. Other key concepts of the manga are introduced as well, such as Gachiakuta’s power system that works around people called Givers who draw out power from objects they give life. While the trailer brings the energy you expect to see in a show like Gachiakuta – a few intense action scenes with the show’s opening song “HUGs” by Japanese band Paledusk –, it doesn’t fail to make it clear that Gachiakuta has a central social commentary on how society segregates people, throwing them away like garbage. Alongside the trailer, Crunchyroll also shared with us the names of two voice actors that will be in the Gachiakuta. Regot, the man who raises Rudo in the show, is voiced by Toshiyuki Morikawa, present in other important recent shows such as Ranma ½. Morikawa was also the Japanese voice of Sephiroth in Final Fantasy VII Remake and Rebirth. Yuki Shin is the other name and he is coming to Gachiakuta to voice Jabber. The artist has voiced secondary characters in shows like Attack on Titan, Given, and My Hero Academia.

Type foundry F37 has launched a new typeface inspired by one of Manchester’s last wooden street signs. And they worked with designer Craig Oldham and copywriter Ellen Ling to bring it to life on a series of billboards celebrating the city’s particular brand of pride. F37 Mancunio is based on the typeface on the sign underneath the railway in St Michael’s Place. F37 founder Rick Banks was drawn to the uneven stroke endings on the ‘C’ and the ‘S’ and designer Rodrigo Fuenzalida worked it into a full typeface with nine weights and “a width axis for flexibility.” Mancunio is named after the Roman fort that once stood in present-day Castlefield. “Rick found the reference ages ago and always wanted to turn it into a font,” says F37’s Keelin Wright. “We wanted to take something from the city, and create a font that represents the history of Manchester, but still feels quite modern as well.” The sign in St Michael’s Place that inspired F37’s Mancunio typeface Wright explains that although there are a lot grotesque sans serif fonts in the F37 library, the “quirky” letter endings and old-style numerals create “ a more human type of grotesque.” When it came to launching the typeface, Wright says they wanted to celebrate its connection to Manchester – where F37 is based – in the right way. “We thought because we’ve taken something physical from the city in terms of the sign, we want to give something physical back,” she explains. “We felt that the billboards would give something typographic to the city, especially around springtime, when Manchester is coming out of the gloom.” F37’s Mancunio typeface Banks and Oldham had worked together on several previous projects and bought in Ling to develop the copy-led campaign. She admits it was a daunting brief in some ways, given some high-profile misfires with localised campaigns in Manchester in recent years. In 2022, locals ridiculed a Magnum advert which misrepresented one of the city’s more insalubrious squares, while a recent Adidas billboard for Manchester United proclaiming that “Manneh is Red” was equally derided. Writing on LinkedIn, designer and United fan Andrew Whitehead said he had never once heard the club referred to as Manneh. “It’s not a nickname. It’s not Manchester United. It’s just… off,” he wrote. “This is what fake authenticity looks like.” “There is all this localised stuff that just bombs,” Ling says. “The pressure is on not to do something that feels tired and out of touch.” F37’s Mancunio typeface The team all felt it was important to steer away from many of the well-worn Manchester motifs, which many people feel have been co-opted by commercial interests looking to exploit the city’s creative soul. “When we were putting the brief together, we found pages and pages of reference for things that we didn’t want,” Wright says. “It was much harder to find things that showed what we actually wanted.” “A lot of this stuff feels like it was made by outsiders,” Oldham says. “History didn’t start here in the 1980s – there’s a wealth of culture and community spirit.” It was exciting, he says, to avoid cliches around Tony Wilson, the Hacienda stripes, and the city’s bee symbol and try and capture “the stoicism, the acerbic wit and the self-deprecating pride.” Some of the posters do take familiar topics – like the city’s famously bad weather or Ian Brown’s quote that Manchester has “Everything but a beach” – but Ling says they worked hard to find “a sting in the tail” and “reclaim” these tropes. Ellen Ling and Craig Oldham’s posters to launch F37’s Mancunio typeface. Photo by Tim Sinclair. Other references are extremely local and deliberately perplexing to outsiders, such as the celebration of Boombox Barry, an iconic local personality. “He’s part of our everyday experience of being in Manchester,” Ling says. “It was nice to give him his flowers in terms of the joy that he brings, and the enigma that he is.” One poster even references the Magnum-advert debacle, celebrating “alfresco tinnies on a piss-soaked Piccadilly G.” For the design, they tried several approaches, including using acid colours, but Oldham says he and Banks realised at one point they were “trying too hard.” The stark white text on black background was the perfect way to showcase the typeface, Oldham says, and stands out in the cityscape. “This dense spot of black cuts through this ocean of visual clutter,” he explains. “It confronts people, and forces them to read the words.” Ling adds that the design works perfectly to communicate the deadpan tone of her copy lines. Ellen Ling and Craig Oldham’s posters to launch F37’s Mancunio typeface. Photo by Tim Sinclair. Manchester’s creative scene has been struggling with the changes wrought by the city’s rapid growth and development in recent years. Designers have even taken to remixing the city’s famous visual language to protest against “incessant gentrification.” Oldham recognises the tension, although he thinks it’s happening in many cities. “I think as cities grow and change rapidly, you get to a crossroads,” he says. “What are we going to change into? What are we going to take with us? And what have we got to leave behind? “I think that’s a universal worry, but Manchester’s very much at that point in its life cycle right now.” Ling agrees. “It’s not that the city’s independent spirit is being crushed, it’s more like it’s being Last Of Us fungi-d,” she says, in reference to the hit HBO show. “It does feel that everything that you know in your bones makes Manchester great is being commoditised.” F37’s Mancunio typeface Ellen Ling and Craig Oldham’s posters to launch F37’s Mancunio typeface. Photo by Tim Sinclair. Ellen Ling and Craig Oldham’s posters to launch F37’s Mancunio typeface. Photo by Tim Sinclair. Ellen Ling and Craig Oldham’s posters to launch F37’s Mancunio typeface. Photo by Tim Sinclair. Ellen Ling and Craig Oldham’s posters to launch F37’s Mancunio typeface. Photo by Tim Sinclair.

Kenmore Pavilion / CARDSave this picture!© Andy MacphersonHouses, Sustainability•Brisbane City, Australia Architects: CARD Area Area of this architecture project Area:  90 m² Photographs Photographs:Andy MacphersonMore SpecsLess Specs Save this picture! Text description provided by the architects. The core philosophy of this project was to do more with less through revitalizing a 1960s workers' cottage through smart, cost-effective design. Rather than replacing, the approach focused on reuse, breathing new life into the existing structure.Save this picture!Save this picture!By embracing Brisbane's favourable climate, the design introduces a weather-protected outdoor space that seamlessly extends the home's footprint. This newly integrated pavilion creates a flexible living zone for cooking, socialising, and relaxing, while framing curated views of the surrounding landscape.Save this picture!Save this picture!Save this picture!The project is situated in the leafy suburb of Kenmore, Brisbane, renowned for its mid-century modernist architecture and lush natural surroundings. Drawing inspiration from Queensland's architectural heritage, the design of the pavilion references the quintessential deck through its overall proportions and timber detailing. The use of natural timber ensures the structure blends effortlessly with the surrounding landscape, reinforcing its identity as an extension of the garden and an inviting, functional outdoor space.Save this picture!The project was part of a bigger renovation which encouraged a direct connection to the garden, shifting the living areas to the north and the bedrooms to the south, clearly delineated by a continuous wall of joinery. This wall contains the kitchen, fireplace, bookshelves, entry nook, and services, with flush, hidden doors that conceal access to the bedrooms and hallway.Save this picture!With these renovations and the new outdoor pavilion, a dark and introverted house has been converted into a functional, light-filled, and social building. A flexible and adaptable space - the pavilion can be used for a range of activities, from outdoor dining, socializing, and cooking in the garden.Save this picture!Sustainability Initiatives Our vision centers around reducing environmental impact by retaining and working with the original post-war structure, which has solid bones. Existing materials were reused and retained where possible, such as the terracotta floor of the pavilion, which was retained from the original house. Other examples include parts of the tiling that were salvaged from leftover projects, and the western red cedar soffits were taken from leftover stock from a nearby development. The garden beds were made from salvaged beams from the original pergola The planter was made from salvaged brick from the paths around the original house The chicken coop was made from reclaimed cedar and old wall framing. The pergola was built from Kwila and Spotted Gum - purposefully chosen for their sustainability credentials. The project included the installation of a new 6.6 kW solar system (20 panels) installed on the roof. Save this picture! Project gallerySee allShow less About this officeCARDOffice••• Published on June 05, 2025Cite: "Kenmore Pavilion / CARD" 05 Jun 2025. ArchDaily. Accessed . <https://www.archdaily.com/1030800/kenmore-pavilion-card&gt ISSN 0719-8884Save世界上最受欢迎的建筑网站现已推出你的母语版本!想浏览ArchDaily中国吗?是否 You've started following your first account!Did you know?You'll now receive updates based on what you follow! Personalize your stream and start following your favorite authors, offices and users.Go to my stream

Conflux Technology, an Australian company specializing in heat transfer solutions and additive manufacturing, has announced a collaboration with Italian hypercar manufacturer Pagani to address thermal management challenges in the Pagani Utopia’s transmission. The Utopia, Pagani’s latest hypercar, uses a 6-liter twin-turbo V12 engine designed by Mercedes-AMG. Its powertrain integrates a custom seven-speed transmission developed by Xtrac, available in both automated and manual configurations, to deliver the high levels of control and responsiveness required in extreme driving conditions. The Australian-based firm developed a cartridge heat exchanger specifically for the Utopia’s transmission oil system to improve heat rejection. According to the company, this solution achieves a 30% increase in heat rejection compared to the previous heat exchanger design. This enhancement is critical to maintain optimal thermal performance during high-load operations and ensures the vehicle meets global emissions standards, including those in California. Pagani’s Utopia hypercar, powered by a 6-liter twin-turbo V12 engine. Photo via Conflux Technology. Pagani subjected the Utopia’s transmission system to extensive testing, including track and road validation as well as thermal shock trials. These tests confirmed the durability and thermal resilience of the new heat exchanger under demanding operational conditions, aligning with the vehicle’s performance requirements. Michael Fuller, Founder and CEO of Conflux Technology, said: “Our advanced heat exchangers are designed to enable new levels of effectiveness, perfectly complementing the engineering craftsmanship that Pagani is celebrated for. This collaboration showcases the synergy of precision, innovation, and excellence.” Francesco Perini, Head of the Technical Department at Pagani, emphasized: “Conflux’s advanced heat transfer technology empowers the Pagani Utopia to achieve superior heat rejection ensuring optimal thermal balance, even in severe driving conditions. In our relentless pursuit of perfection, every detail matters. Conflux’s cartridge heat exchangers are a testament to precision and innovation, playing a vital role in ensuring that the Utopia can be enjoyed for a romantic drive on the French Riviera as well as on the most demanding tracks.” Oliver Nixon, Head of High Performance Automotive at Xtrac, stated: “The innovation of Conflux’s technology has allowed Xtrac to continue to push the boundaries of transmission performance, whilst maintaining the lightweight, motorsport derived ethos of our transmission solutions.” Conflux Technology’s additive-manufactured cartridge heat exchangers. Photo via Conflux Technology. Conflux is developing its Conflux Production Systems (CPS) to scale the production of its heat exchangers, supported by an AUD 11 million Series B funding round. The company’s technology is applied across multiple sectors, including aerospace, motorsports, high-powered industrial equipment, and defense, where effective thermal management is essential. The cartridge design leverages additive manufacturing to produce complex geometries that enhance heat transfer while reducing weight, supporting the requirements of high-performance automotive applications. Xtrac, headquartered in Berkshire, UK, with additional facilities in Indiana and North Carolina, specializes in engineering transmission and driveline systems for both motorsport and automotive sectors. Engine bay featuring Xtrac’s seven-speed gearbox. Photo via Conflux Technology. Additive Manufacturing in High-Performance Automotive Design Bentley Motors recent limited-run Batur grand tourer, The Black Rose, integrates additive manufacturing into its design through 18-karat recycled rose gold components. Developed by the Mulliner division in collaboration with precious metal supplier Cooksongold, the project uses up to 210 grams of printed gold in elements such as the Drive Mode Selector, air vent controls, and steering wheel insert. These components are hallmarked in Birmingham’s Jewellery Quarter, with some also bearing the hallmark commemorating Queen Elizabeth II’s Platinum Jubilee. Bentley’s investment in additive manufacturing capacity since 2022 amounts to £3 million. This focus on additive manufacturing extends to high-performance vehicle engineering, as seen in McLaren Automotive’s W1 hypercar. The W1 incorporates titanium 3D printing in the production of front uprights and wishbones for its suspension system, contributing to significant weight savings and enhanced dynamic performance. McLaren reports that the W1 achieves a vehicle weight of 1,399kg, enabling a power-to-weight ratio of 911PS/tonne and supporting acceleration from 0 to 200km/h in 5.8 seconds. Central to this development is the company’s collaboration with Divergent Technologies, whose DAPS platform supports rapid design iteration and manufacturing flexibility.s. Front view of the McLaren W1 hypercar. Image via McLaren. Take the 3DPI Reader Survey — shape the future of AM reporting in under 5 minutes. Ready to discover who won the 2024 3D Printing Industry Awards? Subscribe to the 3D Printing Industry newsletter to stay updated with the latest news and insights. Featured photo shows Pagani’s Utopia hypercar, powered by a 6-liter twin-turbo V12 engine. Photo via Conflux Technology. Anyer Tenorio Lara Anyer Tenorio Lara is an emerging tech journalist passionate about uncovering the latest advances in technology and innovation. With a sharp eye for detail and a talent for storytelling, Anyer has quickly made a name for himself in the tech community. Anyer's articles aim to make complex subjects accessible and engaging for a broad audience. In addition to his writing, Anyer enjoys participating in industry events and discussions, eager to learn and share knowledge in the dynamic world of technology.