Barricades, as we know them today, are thought to date back to the European wars of religion. According to most historians, the first barricade went up in Paris in 1588; the word derives from the French barriques, or barrels, spontaneously put together. They have been assembled from the most diverse materials, from cobblestones, tyres, newspapers, dead horses and bags of ice (during Kyiv’s Euromaidan in 2013–14), to omnibuses and e‑scooters. Their tactical logic is close to that of guerrilla warfare: the authorities have to take the barricades in order to claim victory; all that those manning them have to do to prevail is to hold them.  The 19th century was the golden age for blocking narrow, labyrinthine streets. Paris had seen barricades go up nine times in the period before the Second Empire; during the July 1830 Revolution alone, 4,000 barricades had been erected (roughly one for every 200 Parisians). These barricades would not only stop, but also trap troops; people would then throw stones from windows or pour boiling water onto the streets. Georges‑Eugène Haussmann, Napoleon III’s prefect of Paris, famously created wide boulevards to make blocking by barricade more difficult and moving the military easier, and replaced cobblestones with macadam – a surface of crushed stone. As Flaubert observed in his Dictionary of Accepted Ideas: ‘Macadam: has cancelled revolutions. No more means to make barricades. Nevertheless rather inconvenient.’   Lead image: Barricades, as we know them today, are thought to have originated in early modern France. A colour engraving attributed to Achille‑Louis Martinet depicts the defence of a barricade during the 1830 July Revolution. Credit: Paris Musées / Musée Carnavalet – Histoire de Paris. Above: the socialist political thinker and activist Louis Auguste Blanqui – who was imprisoned by every regime that ruled France between 1815 and 1880 – drew instructions for how to build an effective barricade Under Napoleon III, Baron Haussmann widened Paris’s streets in his 1853–70 renovation of the city, making barricading more difficult Credit: Old Books Images / Alamy ‘On one hand, [the authorities] wanted to favour the circulation of ideas,’ reactionary intellectual Louis Veuillot observed apropos the ambiguous liberalism of the latter period of Napoleon III’s Second Empire. ‘On the other, to ensure the circulation of regiments.’ But ‘anti‑insurgency hardware’, as Justinien Tribillon has called it, also served to chase the working class out of the city centre: Haussmann’s projects amounted to a gigantic form of real-estate speculation, and the 1871 Paris Commune that followed constituted not just a short‑lived anarchist experiment featuring enormous barricades; it also signalled the return of the workers to the centre and, arguably, revenge for their dispossession.    By the mid‑19th century, observers questioned whether barricades still had practical meaning. Gottfried Semper’s barricade, constructed for the 1849 Dresden uprising, had proved unconquerable, but Friedrich Engels, one‑time ‘inspector of barricades’ in the Elberfeld insurrection of the same year, already suggested that the barricades’ primary meaning was now moral rather than military – a point to be echoed by Leon Trotsky in the subsequent century. Barricades symbolised bravery and the will to hold out among insurrectionists, and, not least, determination rather to destroy one’s possessions – and one’s neighbourhood – than put up with further oppression.   Not only self‑declared revolutionaries viewed things this way: the reformist Social Democrat leader Eduard Bernstein observed that ‘the barricade fight as a political weapon of the people has been completely eliminated due to changes in weapon technology and cities’ structures’. Bernstein was also picking up on the fact that, in the era of industrialisation, contention happened at least as much on the factory floor as on the streets. The strike, not the food riot or the defence of workers’ quartiers, became the paradigmatic form of conflict. Joshua Clover has pointed out in his 2016 book Riot. Strike. Riot: The New Era of Uprisings, that the price of labour, rather than the price of goods, caused people to confront the powerful. Blocking production grew more important than blocking the street. ‘The only weapons we have are our bodies, and we need to tuck them in places so wheels don’t turn’ Today, it is again blocking – not just people streaming along the streets in large marches – that is prominently associated with protests. Disrupting circulation is not only an important gesture in the face of climate emergency; blocking transport is a powerful form of protest in an economic system focused on logistics and just‑in‑time distribution. Members of Insulate Britain and Germany’s Last Generation super‑glue themselves to streets to stop car traffic to draw attention to the climate emergency; they have also attached themselves to airport runways. They form a human barricade of sorts, immobilising traffic by making themselves immovable.   Today’s protesters have made themselves consciously vulnerable. They in fact follow the advice of US civil rights’ Bayard Rustin who explained: ‘The only weapons we have are our bodies, and we need to tuck them in places so wheels don’t turn.’ Making oneself vulnerable might increase the chances of a majority of citizens seeing the importance of the cause which those engaged in civil disobedience are pursuing. Demonstrations – even large, unpredictable ones – are no longer sufficient. They draw too little attention and do not compel a reaction. Naomi Klein proposed the term ‘blockadia’ as ‘a roving transnational conflict zone’ in which people block extraction – be it open‑pit mines, fracking sites or tar sands pipelines – with their bodies. More often than not, these blockades are organised by local people opposing the fossil fuel industry, not environmental activists per se. Blockadia came to denote resistance to the Keystone XL pipeline as well as Canada’s First Nations‑led movement Idle No More. In cities, blocking can be accomplished with highly mobile structures. Like the barricade of the 19th century, they can be quickly assembled, yet are difficult to move; unlike old‑style barricades, they can also be quickly disassembled, removed and hidden (by those who have the engineering and architectural know‑how). Think of super tripods, intricate ‘protest beacons’ based on tensegrity principles, as well as inflatable cobblestones, pioneered by the artist‑activists of Tools for Action (and as analysed in Nick Newman’s recent volume Protest Architecture).   As recently as 1991, newly independent Latvia defended itself against Soviet tanks with the popular construction of barricades, in a series of confrontations that became known as the Barikādes Credit: Associated Press / Alamy Inversely, roadblocks can be used by police authorities to stop demonstrations and gatherings from taking place – protesters are seen removing such infrastructure in Dhaka during a general strike in 1999 Credit: REUTERS / Rafiqur Rahman / Bridgeman These inflatable objects are highly flexible, but can also be protective against police batons. They pose an awkward challenge to the authorities, who often end up looking ridiculous when dealing with them, and, as one of the inventors pointed out, they are guaranteed to create a media spectacle. This was also true of the 19th‑century barricade: people posed for pictures in front of them. As Wolfgang Scheppe, a curator of Architecture of the Barricade (currently on display at the Arsenale Institute for Politics of Representation in Venice), explains, these images helped the police to find Communards and mete out punishments after the end of the anarchist experiment. Much simpler structures can also be highly effective. In 2019, protesters in Hong Kong filled streets with little archways made from just three ordinary bricks: two standing upright, one resting on top. When touched, the falling top one would buttress the other two, and effectively block traffic. In line with their imperative of ‘be water’, protesters would retreat when the police appeared, but the ‘mini‑Stonehenges’ would remain and slow down the authorities. Today, elaborate architectures of protest, such as Extinction Rebellion’s ‘tensegrity towers’, are used to blockade roads and distribution networks – in this instance, Rupert Murdoch’s News UK printworks in Broxbourne, for the media group’s failure to report the climate emergency accurately Credit: Extinction Rebellion In June 2025, protests erupted in Los Angeles against the Trump administration’s deportation policies. Demonstrators barricaded downtown streets using various objects, including the pink public furniture designed by design firm Rios for Gloria Molina Grand Park. LAPD are seen advancing through tear gas Credit: Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times via Getty Images Roads which radicals might want to target are not just ones in major metropoles and fancy post‑industrial downtowns. Rather, they might block the arteries leading to ‘fulfilment centres’ and harbours with container shipping. The model is not only Occupy Wall Street, which had initially called for the erection of ‘peaceful barricades’, but also the Occupy that led to the Oakland port shutdown in 2011. In short, such roadblocks disrupt what Phil Neel has called a ‘hinterland’ that is often invisible, yet crucial for contemporary capitalism. More recently, Extinction Rebellion targeted Amazon distribution centres in three European countries in November 2021; in the UK, they aimed to disrupt half of all deliveries on a Black Friday.   Will such blockades just anger consumers who, after all, are not present but are impatiently waiting for packages at home? One of the hopes associated with the traditional barricade was always that they might create spaces where protesters, police and previously indifferent citizens get talking; French theorists even expected them to become ‘a machine to produce the people’. That could be why military technology has evolved so that the authorities do not have to get close to the barricade: tear gas was first deployed against those on barricades before it was used in the First World War; so‑called riot control vehicles can ever more easily crush barricades. The challenge, then, for anyone who wishes to block is also how to get in other people’s faces – in order to have a chance to convince them of their cause.        2025-06-11 Kristina Rapacki Share

Pictured Above: Designer Amber Lewis balances New England charm with old-world sophistication with a half Calacatta Vagli marble backsplash in the kitchen of this Martha's Vineyard home. To backsplash or not to backsplash? That is the question. Or is it? Because if anyone’s ever told you “you shouldn’t do anything halfway,” they clearly haven’t heard of the half backsplash. This twist on a design mainstay makes a compelling case for stopping short. So maybe the real question is: to backsplash or to half backsplash?Lately, we’ve seen more and more designers going for the latter. “A trend these days is to use 1/2 or 2/3 stone backsplashes with a six- to nine-inch ledge,” says designer Jennifer Gilmer. “This is typically used behind a range and adds interest as well as softening the overall look.” It’s not just aesthetic—it’s strategic functionality. “The ledge is useful for salt and pepper shakers, olive oil, and other items,” she adds. Ahead, we break down everything to know about half backsplashes and why this kitchen trend is gaining traction in the design world.Related StoriesWhat Is a Half Backsplash?Lisa PetroleMagnolia’s director of styling, Ashley Maddox, enlisted the help of designer Hilary Walker to create her midcentury-modern dream home in Waco, Texas. Complete with walnut kitchen cabinetry topped with a Topzstone countertop continued into a partial backsplash.“A half backsplash or 1/3 backsplash is when the material stops at a point on the wall determined by the design,” explains designer Isabella Patrick. This makes it distinct from a “built-out or existing element, such as upper cabinets, a ceiling, soffit, or some other inherent element of the space.” In other words, it’s intentional, not just the result of running out of tile.Courtesy of JN Interior SpacesTaking the ceiling height into consideration, JN Interior Spaces decided a half backsplash would be suitable for this sleek, modern kitchen.While traditional backsplashes typically reach the bottom of upper cabinetry or span the entire wall, partial backsplashes usually stop somewhere around four to 25 inches up, depending on the look you’re going for.And while it may sound like a design compromise, it’s actually quite the opposite.Related StoryWhy Designers Are Loving the Half-Height LookOpting for a half backsplash is a clever way to balance proportion, budget, and visual interest. “If the design does not have upper cabinets, we would opt for a half backsplash to create visual interest,” Patrick says. “A full wall of the same tile or stone could overwhelm the space and seem like an afterthought.”Shannon Dupre/DD RepsIsabella Patrick experimented with this concept in her own kitchen, mixing materials for a more layered half backsplash look.Instead, Patrick often mixes materials—like running Cambria quartzite up from the counter to a ledge, then switching to Fireclay tile above. “This is a great example of how a singular material would have overwhelmed the space but also may have felt like an afterthought,” she explains. “Mixing materials and adding in details and personal touches is what good design is.”Another bonus? It lets the rest of the kitchen sing. “In another design, we eliminated the upper cabinets in favor of a more open and airy look so that the windows were not blocked—and so you were not walking right into a side view of cabinetry,” Patrick says. “No upper cabinets also makes the kitchen feel more of a transitional space and decorative, especially since it opens right into a dining room.”krafty_photos
copyright 2021This kitchen from JN Interior Spaces proves that a partial backsplash can still make a big impact. They chose to use an iridescent, almost-patina tile in this Wyoming kitchen.For Jill Najinigier of JN Interior Spaces, the choice is just as much about form as it is function. “It's all about how the backsplash interacts with the architecture,” she explains. “Wall height, windows, the shape of the hood, upper cabinets, or open shelves—where do they start and terminate?”In one standout project, Najinigier used a luminous tile just tall enough to tuck under a tapered plaster hood, topped with a narrow stone ledge carved from the same slab as the counter. The result? “Clean lines that make a stunning statement.”Mixing materials and adding in details and personal touches is what good design is.It’s Decorative and FunctionalHeather TalbertDesigner Kate Pearce installed a statement-making marble backsplash. Bringing it only halfway up allows its beauty to be appreciated while giving the other aesthetic elements in the space room to breathe.Don’t underestimate what that ledge can do. Designer Kate Pearce swears by hers: “I love my little five-inch-deep marble shelf that allows me to style some vintage kitchenware in the space,” she says. “And I think the shelf (and the pieces styled on it) is exactly what gives the kitchen an approachable feel—versus having a full backsplash of marble, which would have given the space a more serious vibe.”Stylish ProductionsPrioritizing visually continuity, Italian designer Federica Asack of Masseria Chic used the same leathered sandstone, a natural material that will develop a wonderful patina, for both the counters and the backsplash.Designer Federica Asack of Masseria Chic used a leathered sandstone for both her countertop and half backsplash, adding a ledge that’s just deep enough to style. “It allows for a splash-free decorating opportunity to layer artwork and favorite objects,” she says.Designer Molly Watson agrees: “The simple shelf is just deep enough for some special items to be on display,” she notes of a project where carrying the countertop stone up the wall helped keep things visually calm and scaled to the space. Related StoryThe Verdict on Half BacksplashesErin Kelly"Keeping materials simple in this kitchen was important for scale," says designer Molly Watson. "Carrying the countertop up the wall as a backsplash allowed the space to feel larger."Half backsplashes are having a major design moment, but not just because they’re practical. They’re a blank canvas for creativity. From floating ledges and mixed materials to budget-conscious decisions that don’t skimp on style, they’re a smart (and stylish) way to make your kitchen feel lighter, livelier, and totally considered.So, go ahead—do it halfway.Follow House Beautiful on Instagram and TikTok.

This audio is auto-generated. Please let us know if you have feedback. President Donald Trump signed an executive order (EO) Friday that scratched or revised several of his Democratic predecessors’ major cybersecurity initiatives. “Just days before President Trump took office, the Biden Administration attempted to sneak problematic and distracting issues into cybersecurity policy,” the White House said in a fact sheet about Trump’s new directive, referring to projects that Biden launched with his Jan. 15 executive order. Trump’s new EO eliminates those projects, which would have required software vendors to prove their compliance with new federal security standards, prioritized research and testing of artificial intelligence for cyber defense and accelerated the rollout of encryption that withstands the future code-cracking powers of quantum computers. “President Trump has made it clear that this Administration will do what it takes to make America cyber secure,” the White House said in its fact sheet, “including focusing relentlessly on technical and organizational professionalism to improve the security and resilience of the nation’s information systems and networks.” Major cyber regulation shift Trump’s elimination of Biden’s software security requirements for federal contractors represents a significant government reversal on cyber regulation. Following years of major cyberattacks linked to insecure software, the Biden administration sought to use federal procurement power to improve the software industry’s practices. That effort began with Biden’s 2021 cyber order and gained strength in 2024, and then Biden officials tried to add teeth to the initiative before leaving office in January. But as it eliminated that project on Friday, the Trump administration castigated Biden’s efforts as “imposing unproven and burdensome software accounting processes that prioritized compliance checklists over genuine security investments.” Trump’s order eliminates provisions from Biden’s directive that would have required federal contractors to submit “secure software development attestations,” along with technical data to back up those attestations. Also now eradicated are provisions that would have required the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency to verify vendors’ attestations, required the Office of the National Cyber Director to publish the results of those reviews and encouraged ONCD to refer companies whose attestations fail a review to the Justice Department “for action as appropriate.” Trump’s order leaves in place a National Institute of Standards and Technology collaboration with industry to update NIST’s Software Software Development Framework, but it eliminates parts of Biden’s order that would have incorporated those SSDF updates into security requirements for federal vendors. In a related move, Trump eliminated provisions of his predecessor’s order that would have required NIST to “issue guidance identifying minimum cybersecurity practices” (based on a review of globally accepted standards) and required federal contractors to follow those practices. AI security cut Trump also took an axe to Biden requirements related to AI and its ability to help repel cyberattacks. He scrapped a Biden initiative to test AI’s power to “enhance cyber defense of critical infrastructure in the energy sector,” as well as one that would have directed federal research programs to prioritize topics like the security of AI-powered coding and “methods for designing secure AI systems.” The EO also killed a provision would have required the Pentagon to “use advanced AI models for cyber defense.” On quantum computing, Trump’s directive significantly pares back Biden’s attempts to accelerate the government’s adoption of post-quantum cryptography. Biden told agencies to start using quantum-resistant encryption “as soon as practicable” and to start requiring vendors to use it when technologically possible. Trump eliminated those requirements, leaving only a Biden requirement that CISA maintain “a list of product categories in which products that support post-quantum cryptography … are widely available.” Trump also eliminated instructions for the departments of State and Commerce to encourage key foreign allies and overseas industries to adopt NIST’s PQC algorithms. The EO dropped many other provisions of Biden’s January directive, including one requiring agencies to start testing phishing-resistant authentication technologies, one requiring NIST to advise other agencies on internet routing security and one requiring agencies to use strong email encryption. Trump also cut language directing the Office of Management and Budget to advise agencies on addressing risks related to IT vendor concentration. In his January order, Biden ordered agencies to explore and encourage the use of digital identity documents to prevent fraud, including in public benefits programs. Trump eliminated those initiatives, calling them “inappropriate.”  Trump also tweaked the language of Obama-era sanctions authorities targeting people involved in cyberattacks on the U.S., specifying that the Treasury Department can only sanction foreigners for these activities. The White House said Trump’s change would prevent the power’s “misuse against domestic political opponents.” Amid the whirlwind of changes, Trump left one major Biden-era cyber program intact: a Federal Communications Commission project, modeled on the Energy Star program, that will apply government seals of approval to technology products that undergo security testing by federally accredited labs. Trump preserved the language in Biden’s order that requires companies selling internet-of-things devices to the federal government to go through the FCC program by January 2027.

“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:

Missing the big picture US science is being wrecked, and its leadership is fighting the last war Facing an extreme budget, the National Academies hosted an event that ignored it. John Timmer – Jun 4, 2025 6:00 pm | 16 Credit: JHVE Photo Credit: JHVE Photo Story text Size Small Standard Large Width * Standard Wide Links Standard Orange * Subscribers only   Learn more WASHINGTON, DC—The general outline of the Trump administration's proposed 2026 budget was released a few weeks back, and it included massive cuts for most agencies, including every one that funds scientific research. Late last week, those agencies began releasing details of what the cuts would mean for the actual projects and people they support. And the results are as bad as the initial budget had suggested: one-of-a-kind scientific experiment facilities and hardware retired, massive cuts in supported scientists, and entire areas of research halted. And this comes in an environment where previously funded grants are being terminated, funding is being held up for ideological screening, and universities have been subject to arbitrary funding freezes. Collectively, things are heading for damage to US science that will take decades to recover from. It's a radical break from the trajectory science had been on. That's the environment that the US's National Academies of Science found itself in yesterday while hosting the State of the Science event in Washington, DC. It was an obvious opportunity for the nation's leading scientific organization to warn the nation of the consequences of the path that the current administration has been traveling. Instead, the event largely ignored the present to worry about a future that may never exist. The proposed cuts The top-line budget numbers proposed earlier indicated things would be bad: nearly 40 percent taken off the National Institutes of Health's budget, the National Science Foundation down by over half. But now, many of the details of what those cuts mean are becoming apparent. NASA's budget includes sharp cuts for planetary science, which would be cut in half and then stay flat for the rest of the decade, with the Mars Sample Return mission canceled. All other science budgets, including Earth Science and Astrophysics, take similar hits; one astronomer posted a graphic showing how many present and future missions that would mean. Active missions that have returned unprecedented data, like Juno and New Horizons, would go, as would two Mars orbiters. As described by Science magazine's news team, "The plans would also kill off nearly every major science mission the agency has not yet begun to build." A chart prepared by astronomer Laura Lopez showing just how many astrophysics missions will be cancelled. Credit: Laura Lopez The National Science Foundation, which funds much of the US's fundamental research, is also set for brutal cuts. Biology, engineering, and education will all be slashed by over 70 percent; computer science, math and physical science, and social and behavioral science will all see cuts of over 60 percent. International programs will take an 80 percent cut. The funding rate of grant proposals is expected to drop from 26 percent to just 7 percent, meaning the vast majority of grants submitted to the NSF will be a waste of time. The number of people involved in NSF-funded activities will drop from over 300,000 to just 90,000. Almost every program to broaden participation in science will be eliminated. As for specifics, they're equally grim. The fleet of research ships will essentially become someone else's problem: "The FY 2026 Budget Request will enable partial support of some ships." We've been able to better pin down the nature and location of gravitational wave events as detectors in Japan and Italy joined the original two LIGO detectors; the NSF will reverse that progress by shutting one of the LIGOs. The NSF's contributions to detectors at the Large Hadron Collider will be cut by over half, and one of the two very large telescopes it was helping fund will be cancelled (say goodbye to the Thirty Meter Telescope). "Access to the telescopes at Kitt Peak and Cerro Tololo will be phased out," and the NSF will transfer the facilities to other organizations. The Department of Health and Human Services has been less detailed about the specific cuts its divisions will see, largely focusing on the overall numbers, which are down considerably. The NIH, which is facing a cut of over 40 percent, will be reorganized, with its 19 institutes pared down to just eight. This will result in some odd pairings, such as the dental and eye institutes ending up in the same place; genomics and biomedical imaging will likewise end up under the same roof. Other groups like the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the Food and Drug Administration will also face major cuts. Issues go well beyond the core science agencies, as well. In the Department of Energy, funding for wind, solar, and renewable grid integration has been zeroed out, essentially ending all programs in this area. Hydrogen and fuel cells face a similar fate. Collectively, these had gotten over $600 billion dollars in 2024's budget. Other areas of science at the DOE, such as high-energy physics, fusion, and biology, receive relatively minor cuts that are largely in line with the ones faced by administration priorities like fossil and nuclear energy. Will this happen? It goes without saying that this would amount to an abandonment of US scientific leadership at a time when most estimates of China's research spending show it approaching US-like levels of support. Not only would it eliminate many key facilities, instruments, and institutions that have helped make the US a scientific powerhouse, but it would also block the development of newer and additional ones. The harms are so widespread that even topics that the administration claims are priorities would see severe cuts. And the damage is likely to last for generations, as support is cut at every stage of the educational pipeline that prepares people for STEM careers. This includes careers in high-tech industries, which may require relocation overseas due to a combination of staffing concerns and heightened immigration controls. That said, we've been here before in the first Trump administration, when budgets were proposed with potentially catastrophic implications for US science. But Congress limited the damage and maintained reasonably consistent budgets for most agencies. Can we expect that to happen again? So far, the signs are not especially promising. The House has largely adopted the Trump administration's budget priorities, despite the fact that the budget they pass turns its back on decades of supposed concerns about deficit spending. While the Senate has yet to take up the budget, it has also been very pliant during the second Trump administration, approving grossly unqualified cabinet picks such as Robert F. Kennedy Jr. All of which would seem to call for the leadership of US science organizations to press the case for the importance of science funding to the US, and highlight the damage that these cuts would cause. But, if yesterday's National Academies event is anything to judge by, the leadership is not especially interested. Altered states As the nation's premier science organization, and one that performs lots of analyses for the government, the National Academies would seem to be in a position to have its concerns taken seriously by members of Congress. And, given that the present and future of science in the US is being set by policy choices, a meeting entitled the State of the Science would seem like the obvious place to address those concerns. If so, it was not obvious to Marcia McNutt, the president of the NAS, who gave the presentation. She made some oblique references to current problems, saying, that “We are embarking on a radical new experiment in what conditions promote science leadership, with the US being the treatment group, and China as the control," and acknowledged that "uncertainties over the science budgets for next year, coupled with cancellations of billions of dollars of already hard-won research grants, is causing an exodus of researchers." But her primary focus was on the trends that have been operative in science funding and policy leading up to but excluding the second Trump administration. McNutt suggested this was needed to look beyond the next four years. However, that ignores the obvious fact that US science will be fundamentally different if the Trump administration can follow through on its plans and policies; the trends that have been present for the last two decades will be irrelevant. She was also remarkably selective about her avoidance of discussing Trump administration priorities. After noting that faculty surveys have suggested they spend roughly 40 percent of their time handling regulatory requirements, she twice mentioned that the administration's anti-regulatory stance could be a net positive here (once calling it "an opportunity to help"). Yet she neglected to note that many of the abandoned regulations represent a retreat from science-driven policy. McNutt also acknowledged the problem of science losing the bipartisan support it has enjoyed, as trust in scientists among US conservatives has been on a downward trend. But she suggested it was scientists' responsibility to fix the problem, even though it's largely the product of one party deciding it can gain partisan advantage by raising doubts about scientific findings in fields like climate change and vaccine safety. The panel discussion that came after largely followed McNutt's lead in avoiding any mention of the current threats to science. The lone exception was Heather Wilson, president of the University of Texas at El Paso and a former Republican member of the House of Representatives and Secretary of the Air Force during the first Trump administration. Wilson took direct aim at Trump's cuts to funding for underrepresented groups, arguing, "Talent is evenly distributed, but opportunity is not." After arguing that "the moral authority of science depends on the pursuit of truth," she highlighted the cancellation of grants that had been used to study diseases that are more prevalent in some ethnic groups, saying "that's not woke science—that's genetics." Wilson was clearly the exception, however, as the rest of the panel largely avoided direct mention of either the damage already done to US science funding or the impending catastrophe on the horizon. We've asked the National Academies' leadership a number of questions about how it perceives its role at a time when US science is clearly under threat. As of this article's publication, however, we have not received a response. At yesterday's event, however, only one person showed a clear sense of what they thought that role should be—Wilson again, whose strongest words were directed at the National Academies themselves, which she said should "do what you've done since Lincoln was president," and stand up for the truth. John Timmer Senior Science Editor John Timmer Senior Science Editor John is Ars Technica's science editor. He has a Bachelor of Arts in Biochemistry from Columbia University, and a Ph.D. in Molecular and Cell Biology from the University of California, Berkeley. When physically separated from his keyboard, he tends to seek out a bicycle, or a scenic location for communing with his hiking boots. 16 Comments

PERFORMANCE ART With technical improvements, Pokemon Scarlet & Violet are utterly transformed on Nintendo Switch 2 What a difference a frame rate makes. On more powerful hardware, Pokemon Scarlet & Violet are practically different games Article by Alex Donaldson Assistant Editor Published on June 4, 2025 I can scarcely think of a game as hampered by its performance as the original Nintendo Switch release of Pokemon Scarlet & Violet. I can think of loads of games that perform worse, of course - broken, shattered releases - but I struggle to think of a great game so thoroughly compromised just from how it runs. That was the log behind my 2022 review of the games, where I called the games a “super-effective new vision” for the series but bemoaned how it ran. The game became famous for stop-motion windmills and distant cliffsides that looked like they’d fallen out of a Nintendo 64 game. The truth is, Scarlet & Violet’s brilliant design and peppy attitude deserved better. Now, three years on from release, Scarlet & Violet is about to get better with a Switch 2 update that I’m going to go ahead and call a total I was invited by The Pokemon Company to take an early look at the patched Switch 2 version of the game - which is always a sign of confidence, given I was quite a noisy detractor of the original game’s performance. I’m honestly not sure what to say other than: wow, what a difference. It is absolute night and day stuff. To the sort of people who say that frame rate doesn’t really matter, I challenge them to play Scarlet & Violet on Switch 2 and then go back to the original. I dare you. As friend of the site Joe says in Serebii's video preview embedded below, it ain’t doable. Watch on YouTube With a crisp presentation at a higher resolution and with a frame rate that as far as I can tell sits at a rock solid 60fps for the vast majority of the time, this is a world apart from the stomach-turning rollercoaster highs and lows of the original release. Distant Pokemon and world elements are no longer slideshows - yes, those infamous windmills are fixed! This isn’t just about technical bragging rights. The difference in how this game now runs is profound enough that it changes the flow and feel of the game. Scarlet & Violet were by design the most footloose and expansive Pokemon games of all time, channeling the open world chops of everything from Skyrim to Breath of the Wild into a Pokemon setting and setup. The performance was a drag on that - if the frame rate tanks every time you whip the camera around to see a nearby approaching threat or take in a distant vista, you’re ripped right out of the game. By stabilising everything, the performance is utterly transformed. Aside from the nebulous concept of ‘game feel’ being improved by the technical advancements, there are also real boons in terms of gameplay. Wild Pokemon spawn in and swarm across the rolling fields and the like in greater numbers. The subtle delay that you’d perceive, that hitch when encountering a wild Pokemon, is eliminated. Menus that were sluggish are now snappier and more responsive. Pokemon Box sprite icons now spring to life instantly. These are small quality of life changes that add up to something greater. Perhaps most importantly battles are now less plodding in their pace, which was frequently obliterated by certain move animations could send the frame rate crashing. It has to be said, it’s not all perfect. The level of detail settings remain pretty aggressive - which means as you’re galloping along at a glorious 60 frames atop your trusty Poke-steed, flowers and other micro detail pop in around you. It’s not ideal. Also, to be honest, the game now being technically accomplished does help to expose the art style for what it is - which is in need of a bit of tightening, I feel. The addition of HDR does really help the colorful exuberance of Paldea to shine, though. In all it’s a triumph, anyway. This is the game Scarlet & Violet should’ve been. Moreover, it feels like the most technically accomplished main-line Pokemon game… possibly ever? Certainly of the 3D era. As with 120fps mouselook Metroid, playing 3D Pokemon at 60fps feels like you’re doing something illegal, frankly. But this is now the way to play these excellent games - and with good-performing Pokemon games now on the table, my excitement for this year’s Pokemon Legends Z-A has skyrocketed.

For the past two years, it’s been a ghost in the machine of American tech. Between 2022 and today, a little-noticed tweak to the U.S. tax code has quietly rewired the financial logic of how American companies invest in research and development. Outside of CFO and accounting circles, almost no one knew it existed. “I work on these tax write-offs and still hadn’t heard about this,” a chief operating officer at a private-equity-backed tech company told Quartz. “It’s just been so weirdly silent.”AdvertisementStill, the delayed change to a decades-old tax provision — buried deep in the 2017 tax law — has contributed to the loss of hundreds of thousands of high-paying, white-collar jobs. That’s the picture that emerges from a review of corporate filings, public financial data, analysis of timelines, and interviews with industry insiders. One accountant, working in-house at a tech company, described it as a “niche issue with broad impact,” echoing sentiments from venture capital investors also interviewed for this article. Some spoke on condition of anonymity to discuss sensitive political matters.Since the start of 2023, more than half-a-million tech workers have been laid off, according to industry tallies. Headlines have blamed over-hiring during the pandemic and, more recently, AI. But beneath the surface was a hidden accelerant: a change to what’s known as Section 174 that helped gut in-house software and product development teams everywhere from tech giants such as Microsoft (MSFT) and Meta (META) to much smaller, private, direct-to-consumer and other internet-first companies.Now, as a bipartisan effort to repeal the Section 174 change moves through Congress, bigger questions are surfacing: How did a single line in the tax code help trigger a tsunami of mass layoffs? And why did no one see it coming? For almost 70 years, American companies could deduct 100% of qualified research and development spending in the year they incurred the costs. Salaries, software, contractor payments — if it contributed to creating or improving a product, it came off the top of a firm’s taxable income.AdvertisementThe deduction was guaranteed by Section 174 of the IRS Code of 1954, and under the provision, R&D flourished in the U.S.Microsoft was founded in 1975. Apple (AAPL) launched its first computer in 1976. Google (GOOGL) incorporated in 1998. Facebook opened to the general public in 2006. All these companies, now among the most valuable in the world, developed their earliest products — programming tools, hardware, search engines — under a tax system that rewarded building now, not later.The subsequent rise of smartphones, cloud computing, and mobile apps also happened in an America where companies could immediately write off their investments in engineering, infrastructure, and experimentation. It was a baseline assumption — innovation and risk-taking subsidized by the tax code — that shaped how founders operated and how investors made decisions.In turn, tech companies largely built their products in the U.S. AdvertisementMicrosoft’s operating systems were coded in Washington state. Apple’s early hardware and software teams were in California. Google’s search engine was born at Stanford and scaled from Mountain View. Facebook’s entire social architecture was developed in Menlo Park. The deduction directly incentivized keeping R&D close to home, rewarding companies for investing in American workers, engineers, and infrastructure.That’s what makes the politics of Section 174 so revealing. For all the rhetoric about bringing jobs back and making things in America, the first Trump administration’s major tax bill arguably helped accomplish the opposite.When Congress passed the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act (TCJA), the signature legislative achievement of President Donald Trump’s first term, it slashed the corporate tax rate from 35% to 21% — a massive revenue loss on paper for the federal government.To make the 2017 bill comply with Senate budget rules, lawmakers needed to offset the cost. So they added future tax hikes that wouldn’t kick in right away, wouldn’t provoke immediate backlash from businesses, and could, in theory, be quietly repealed later.AdvertisementThe delayed change to Section 174 — from immediate expensing of R&D to mandatory amortization, meaning that companies must spread the deduction out in smaller chunks over five or even 15-year periods — was that kind of provision. It didn’t start affecting the budget until 2022, but it helped the TCJA appear “deficit neutral” over the 10-year window used for legislative scoring.The delay wasn’t a technical necessity. It was a political tactic. Such moves are common in tax legislation. Phase-ins and delayed provisions let lawmakers game how the Congressional Budget Office (CBO) — Congress’ nonpartisan analyst of how bills impact budgets and deficits — scores legislation, pushing costs or revenue losses outside official forecasting windows.And so, on schedule in 2022, the change to Section 174 went into effect. Companies filed their 2022 tax returns under the new rules in early 2023. And suddenly, R&D wasn’t a full, immediate write-off anymore. The tax benefits of salaries for engineers, product and project managers, data scientists, and even some user experience and marketing staff — all of which had previously reduced taxable income in year one — now had to be spread out over five- or 15-year periods. To understand the impact, imagine a personal tax code change that allowed you to deduct 100% of your biggest source of expenses, and that becoming a 20% deduction. For cash-strapped companies, especially those not yet profitable, the result was a painful tax bill just as venture funding dried up and interest rates soared.AdvertisementSalesforce office buildings in San Francisco.Photo: Jason Henry/Bloomberg (Getty Images)It’s no coincidence that Meta announced its “Year of Efficiency” immediately after the Section 174 change took effect. Ditto Microsoft laying off 10,000 employees in January 2023 despite strong earnings, or Google parent Alphabet cutting 12,000 jobs around the same time.Amazon (AMZN) also laid off almost 30,000 people, with cuts focused not just on logistics but on Alexa and internal cloud tools — precisely the kinds of projects that would have once qualified as immediately deductible R&D. Salesforce (CRM) eliminated 10% of its staff, or 8,000 people, including entire product teams.In public, companies blamed bloat and AI. But inside boardrooms, spreadsheets were telling a quieter story. And MD&A notes — management’s notes on the numbers — buried deep in 10-K filings recorded the change, too. R&D had become more expensive to carry. Headcount, the leading R&D expense across the tech industry, was the easiest thing to cut.AdvertisementIn its 2023 annual report, Meta described salaries as its single biggest R&D expense. Between the first and second years that the Section 174 change began affecting tax returns, Meta cut its total workforce by almost 25%. Over the same period, Microsoft reduced its global headcount by about 7%, with cuts concentrated in product-facing, engineering-heavy roles.Smaller companies without the fortress-like balance sheets of Big Tech have arguably been hit even harder. Twilio (TWLO) slashed 22% of its workforce in 2023 alone. Shopify (SHOP) (headquartered in Canada but with much of its R&D teams in the U.S.) cut almost 30% of staff in 2022 and 2023. Coinbase (COIN) reduced headcount by 36% across a pair of brutal restructuring waves.Since going into effect, the provision has hit at the very heart of America’s economic growth engine: the tech sector.By market cap, tech giants dominate the S&P 500, with the “Magnificent 7” alone accounting for more than a third of the index’s total value. Workforce numbers tell a similar story, with tech employing millions of Americans directly and supporting the employment of tens of millions more. As measured by GDP, capital-T tech contributes about 10% of national output.AdvertisementIt’s not just that tech layoffs were large, it’s that they were massively disproportionate. Across the broader U.S. economy, job cuts hovered around in low single digits across most sectors. But in tech, entire divisions vanished, with a whopping 60% jump in layoffs between 2022 and 2023. Some cuts reflected real inefficiencies — a response to over-hiring during the zero-interest rate boom. At the same time, many of the roles eliminated were in R&D, product, and engineering, precisely the kind of functions that had once benefitted from generous tax treatment under Section 174.Throughout the 2010s, a broad swath of startups, direct-to-consumer brands, and internet-first firms — basically every company you recognize from Instagram or Facebook ads — built their growth models around a kind of engineered break-even.The tax code allowed them to spend aggressively on product and engineering, then write it all off as R&D, keeping their taxable income close to zero by design. It worked because taxable income and actual cash flow were often notGAAP accounting practices. Basically, as long as spending counted as R&D, companies could report losses to investors while owing almost nothing to the IRS.But the Section 174 change broke that model. Once those same expenses had to be spread out, or amortized, over multiple years, the tax shield vanished. Companies that were still burning cash suddenly looked profitable on paper, triggering real tax bills on imaginary gains.AdvertisementThe logic that once fueled a generation of digital-first growth collapsed overnight.So it wasn’t just tech experiencing effects. From 1954 until 2022, the U.S. tax code had encouraged businesses of all stripes to behave like tech companies. From retail to logistics, healthcare to media, if firms built internal tools, customized a software stack, or invested in business intelligence and data-driven product development, they could expense those costs. The write-off incentivized in-house builds and fast growth well outside the capital-T tech sector. This lines up with OECD research showing that immediate deductions foster innovation more than spread-out ones.And American companies ran with that logic. According to government data, U.S. businesses reported about $500 billion in R&D expenditures in 2019 alone, and almost half of that came from industries outside traditional tech. The Bureau of Economic Analysis estimates that this sector, the broader digital economy, accounts for another 10% of GDP.Add that to core tech’s contribution, and the Section 174 shift has likely touched at least 20% of the U.S. economy.AdvertisementThe result? A tax policy aimed at raising short-term revenue effectively hid a time bomb inside the growth engines of thousands of companies. And when it detonated, it kneecapped the incentive for hiring American engineers or investing in American-made tech and digital products.It made building tech companies in America look irrational on a spreadsheet.A bipartisan group of lawmakers is pushing to repeal the Section 174 change, with business groups, CFOs, crypto executives, and venture capitalists lobbying hard for retroactive relief. But the politics are messy. Fixing 174 would mean handing a tax break to the same companies many voters in both parties see as symbols of corporate excess. Any repeal would also come too late for the hundreds of thousands of workers already laid off.And of course, the losses don’t stop at Meta’s or Google’s campus gates. They ripple out. When high-paid tech workers disappear, so do the lunch orders. The house tours. The contract gigs. The spending habits that sustain entire urban economies and thousands of other jobs. Sandwich artists. Rideshare drivers. Realtors. Personal trainers. House cleaners. In tech-heavy cities, the fallout runs deep — and it’s still unfolding.AdvertisementWashington is now poised to pass a second Trump tax bill — one packed with more obscure provisions, more delayed impacts, more quiet redistribution. And it comes as analysts are only just beginning to understand the real-world effects of the last round.The Section 174 change “significantly increased the tax burden on companies investing in innovation, potentially stifling economic growth and reducing the United States’ competitiveness on the global stage,” according to the tax consulting firm KBKG. Whether the U.S. will reverse course — or simply adapt to a new normal — remains to be seen.

Debate about whether artificial intelligence can replicate the intellectual labor of doctors, lawyers, or PhDs forgoes a deeper concern that’s looming: Entire companies—not just individual jobs—may be rendered obsolete by the accelerating pace of AI adoption. Reports suggesting OpenAI will charge $20,000 per month for agents trained at a PhD level spun up the ongoing debate about whose job is safe from AI and whose job is not. “I’ve not seen it be that impressive yet, but it’s likely not far off,” James Villarrubia, head of digital innovation and AI at NASA CAS, told me. Sean McGregor, the founder of Responsible AI Collaborative who earned a PhD in computer science, pointed out how many jobs are about more than just a set of skills: “Current AI technology is not sufficiently robust to allow unsupervised control of hazardous chemistry equipment, human experimentation, or other domains where human PhDs are currently required.” The big reason I polled the audience on this one was because I wanted to broaden my perspective on what jobs would be eliminated. Instead, it changed my perspective. AI needs to outperform the system, not the role Suzanne Rabicoff, founder of the human agency think tank and fractional practice, The Pie Grower, gave me some reading assignments from her work, instead of a quote. Her work showed me that these times are unprecedented. But something clicked in my brain when she said in her writing that she liked the angle of more efficient companies rising instead of jobs being replaced at companies with a lot of tech and human capital debt. Her response to that statement? “Exactly my bet.”  Sure, this is the first time that a robot is doing the homework for some college students. However, there is more precedent for robots moving market share than for replacing the same job function across a sector. Fortune 500 companies—especially those bloated with legacy processes and redundant labor—are always vulnerable to decline as newer, more nimble competitors rise. And not because any single job is replaced, but because the foundational economics of their business models no longer hold. AI doesn’t need to outperform every employee to render an enterprise obsolete. It only needs to outperform the system. Case study: The auto industry Take, for example, the decline of American car manufacturers in the late 20th century. In the 1950s, American automakers had a stranglehold on the car industry, not unlike today’s tech giants. In 1950, the U.S. produced about 75% of the world’s cars. But in the 1970s, Japanese automakers pioneered the use of robotics in auto manufacturing. These companies produced higher-quality vehicles at great value thanks to leaner operations that were also more precise. Firms like GM struggled to keep up, burdened by outdated factories and excessive human capital costs—including bloated pensions. The seismic shift in the decades to follow paints a picture of what could be in store for large companies now. In 1960, the U.S. produced about 48% of the world’s cars, while Japan accounted for just 5%. By 1980, Japan had captured around 29% of the market, while the U.S. had fallen to 23%. Today’s AI shakeup could look similar. Decades from now, we could look at Apple similarly to how we look at Ford now. AI startups with more agile structures are poised to eat market share. On top of that, startups can focus on solving specialized problems, sharpening their competitive edge. Will your company shrivel and die? The fallout has already begun. Gartner surveyed organizations in late 2023, finding that about half were developing their own AI tools. By the end of 2024, that dropped to 20%. As hype around generative AI cools, Gartner notes that many chief information officers are instead using outside vendors—either large language model providers or traditional software sellers with AI-enhanced offerings. In 2024, AI startups received nearly half of the $209 billion in global venture funding. If only 20% of legacy organizations currently feel confident competing with these upstarts, how many will feel that confidence as these startups mature? While headlines continue to fixate on whether AI can match PhD-level expertise, the deeper risk remains largely unspoken: Giant companies will shrivel and some may die. And when they do, your job is at risk whether you greet customers at the front desk or hold a PhD in an engineering discipline. But there are ways to stay afloat. One of the most impactful pieces of advice I ever received came from Jonathan Rosenberg, former SVP of products at Google and current advisor to Alphabet, when I visited the company’s campus in college. “You can’t just be great at what you do, you have to catch a great wave. Early people think it’s about the company, then the job, then the industry. It’s actually industry, company, job…” So, how do you catch the AI wave? Ankur Patel, CEO of Multimodal, advises workers to learn how to do their current jobs using AI tools that enhance productivity. He also notes that soft skills—mobilizing people, building relationships, leading teams—will become increasingly valuable as AI takes over more technical or routine tasks. “You can’t have AI be a group leader or team leader, right? I just don’t see that happening, even in the next generation forward,” Patel said. “So I think that’s a huge opportunity…to grow and learn from.” The bottom line is this: Even if the AI wave doesn’t replace you, it may replace the place you work. Will you get hit by the AI wave—or will you catch it? George Kailas is CEO of Prospero.ai.

Disney continues to make good on CEO Bob Iger’s stated 2023 plans to cut costs and reshape the company, this time with a round of massive layoffs in the name of “efficiency,” according to Variety. Although the exact number of affected employees is unclear, it is projected to be in the hundreds.  Attempts to confirm the reports by AWN have so far been unsuccessful. More information will be reported as it becomes available. The unfortunate move took place today across marketing teams for both film and TV, publicity, casting, development, and corporate finance. No teams are being eliminated completely. The Mouse House also cut nearly 200 employees in March across TV and ABC News Operations, 75 workers last October across ABC News and local stations, and a whopping 300 U.S. workers last September. The most startling layoffs of the bunch occurred in 2023 after the return of Disney chief Bob Iger as CEO, which resulted in over 8,000 job cuts. Journalist, antique shop owner, aspiring gemologist—L'Wren brings a diverse perspective to animation, where every frame reflects her varied passions.