“Is that concrete all around, or is it in my head?” asked Ian Hunter in “All the Young Dudes,” the song David Bowie wrote for Mott the Hoople in 1972. Concrete is all around us, and we haven’t quite wrapped our heads around it. It’s one of the indispensable materials of modernity; as we try to decarbonize the built environment, it’s part of the problem, and innovations in its composition may become part of the solution. Understanding its history more clearly, the Skyscraper Museum’s new exhibition in Manhattan implies, just might help us employ it better. Concrete is “the second most used substance in the world, after water,” the museum’s founder/director/curator Carol Willis told AN during a recent visit. For plasticity, versatility, and compressive strength, reinforced concrete is hard to beat, though its performance is more problematic when assessed by the metric of embodied and operational carbon, a consideration the exhibition acknowledges up front. In tall construction, concrete has become nearly hegemonic, yet its central role, contend Willis and co-curator Thomas Leslie, formerly of Foster + Partners and now a professor at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, is underrecognized by the public and by mainstream architectural history. The current exhibition aims to change that perception. The Skyscraper Museum in Lower Manhattan features an exhibition, The Modern Concrete Skyscraper, which examines the history of material choices in building tall towers. (Courtesy the Skyscraper Museum) The Modern Concrete Skyscraper examines the history of tall towers’ structural material choices, describing a transition from the early dominance of steel frames to the contemporary condition, in which most large buildings rely on concrete. This change did not happen instantly or for any single reason but through a combination of technical and economic factors, including innovations by various specialists, well-recognized and otherwise; the availability of high-quality limestone deposits near Chicago; and the differential development of materials industries in nations whose architecture grew prominent in recent decades. As supertalls reach ever higher—in the global race for official height rankings by the Council on Tall Buildings and Urban Habitat (CTBUH) and national, corporate, or professional bragging rights—concrete’s dominance may not be permanent in that sector, given the challenge of pumping the material beyond a certain height. (The 2,717-foot Burj Khalifa, formerly Burj Dubai, uses concrete up to 1,987 and steel above that point; Willis quotes SOM’s William Baker describing it as “the tallest steel building with a concrete foundation of 156 stories.”) For the moment, however, concrete is ahead of its chief competitors, steel and (on a smaller scale) timber. Regardless of possible promotional inferences, Willis said, “we did not work with the industry in any way for this exhibition.” “The invention of steel and the grid of steel and the skeleton frame is only the first chapter of the history of the skyscraper,” Willis explained. “The second chapter, and the one that we’re in now, is concrete. Surprisingly, no one had ever told that story of the skyscraper today with a continuous narrative.” The exhibition traces the use of concrete back to the ancient Roman combination of aggregate and pozzolana—the chemical formula for which was “largely lost with the fall of the Roman Empire,” though some Byzantine and medieval structures approximated it. From there, the show explores comparable materials’ revival in 18th-century England, the patenting of Portland cement by Leeds builder Joseph Aspdin in 1824, the proof-of-concept concrete house by François Coignet in 1856, and the pivotal development of rebar in the mid-19th century, with overdue attention to Ernest Ransome’s 1903 Ingalls Building in Cincinnati, then the world’s tallest concrete building at 15 stories and arguably the first concrete skyscraper. The exhibition includes a timeline that depicts concrete’s origins in Rome to its contemporary use in skyscraper construction. (Courtesy the Skyscraper Museum) Baker’s lectures, Willis reported, sometimes pose a deceptively simple question: “‘What is a skyscraper?’ In 1974, when the World Trade Center and Sears Tower are just finished, you would say it’s a very tall building that is built of steel, an office building in North America. But if you ask that same question today, the answer is: It’s a building that is mixed-use, constructed of concrete, and [located] in Asia or the Middle East.” The exhibition organizes the history of concrete towers by eras of engineering innovation, devoting special attention to the 19th- and early-20th-century “patent era” of Claude Allen Porter Turner (pioneer in flat-slab flooring and mushroom columns) and Henry Chandlee Turner (founder of Turner Construction), Ransome (who patented twisted-iron rebar), and François Hennebique (known for the re-inforced concrete system exemplified by Liverpool’s Royal Liver Building, the world’s tallest concrete office building when completed in 1911). In the postwar era, “concrete comes out onto the surface [as] both a structural material and aesthetic.” Brutalism, perhaps to some observers’ surprise, “does not figure very large in high-rise design,” Willis said, except for Paul Rudolph’s Tracey Towers in the Bronx. The exhibition, however, devotes considerable attention to the work of Pier Luigi Nervi, Bertrand Goldberg (particularly Marina City), and SOM’s Fazlur Khan, pioneer of the structural tube system in the 1960s and 1970s—followed by the postmodernist 1980s, when concrete could express either engineering values or ornamentation. The exhibition highlights a number of concrete towers, including Paul Rudolph’s Tracey Towers in the Bronx. (Courtesy the Skyscraper Museum) “In the ’90s, there were material advances in engineering analysis and computerization that helped to predict performance, and so buildings can get taller and taller,” Willis said. The current era, if one looks to CTBUH rankings, is dominated by the supertalls seen in Dubai, Shanghai, and Kuala Lumpur, after the Petronas Towers (1998) “took the title of world’s tallest building from North America for the first time and traumatized everybody about that.” The previous record holder, Chicago’s Sears (now Willis) Tower, comprised steel structural tubes on concrete caissons; with Petronas, headquarters of Malaysia’s national petroleum company of that name, a strong concrete industry was represented but a strong national steel industry was lacking, and as Willis frequently says, form follows finances. In any event, by the ’90s concrete was already becoming the standard material for supertalls, particularly on soft-soiled sites like Shanghai, where its water resistance and compressive strength are well suited to foundation construction. Its plasticity is also well suited to complex forms like the triangular Burj, Kuala Lumpur’s Merdeka 118, and (if eventually completed) the even taller Jeddah Tower, designed to “confuse the wind,” shed vortices, and manage wind forces. Posing the same question Louis Kahn asked about the intentions of a brick, Willis said, with concrete “the answer is: anything you want.” The exhibition is front-loaded with scholarly material, presenting eight succinct yet informative wall texts on the timeline of concrete construction. The explanatory material is accompanied by ample photographs as well as structural models on loan from SOM, Pelli Clarke & Partners, and other firms. Some materials are repurposed from the museum’s previous shows, particularly Supertall! (2011–12) and Sky High and the Logic of Luxury (2013–14). The models allow close examination of the Burj Khalifa, Petronas Towers, Jin Mao Tower, Merdeka 118, and others, including two unbuilt Chicago projects that would have exceeded 2,000 feet: the Miglin-Beitler Skyneedle (Cesar Pelli/Thornton Tomasetti) and 7 South Dearborn (SOM). The Burj, Willis noted, was all structure and no facade for a time: When its curtain-wall manufacturer, Schmidlin, went bankrupt in 2006, it “ended up going to 100 stories without having a stitch of glass on it,” temporarily becoming a “1:1 scale model of the structural system up to 100 stories.” Its prominence justifies its appearance here in two models, including one from RWDI’s wind-tunnel studies. Eero Saarinen’s only skyscraper, built for CBS in 1965 and also known as “Black Rock,” under construction in New York City. (Courtesy Eero Saarinen Collection, Manuscripts, and Archives, Yale University Library) The exhibition opened in March, with plans to stay up at least through October (Willis prefers to keep the date flexible), with accompanying lectures and panels to be announced on the museum’s website (skyscraper.org). Though the exhibition’s full textual and graphic content is available online, the physical models alone are worth a trip to the Battery Park City headquarters. Intriguing questions arise from the exhibition without easy answers, setting the table for lively discussion and debate. One is whether the patenting of innovations like Ransome bar and the Système Hennebique incentivized technological progress or hindered useful technology transfer. Willis speculated, “Did the fact that there were inventions and patents mean that competition was discouraged, that the competition was only in the realm of business, rather than advancing the material?” A critical question is whether research into the chemistry of concrete, including MIT’s 2023 report on the self-healing properties of Roman pozzolana and proliferating claims about “green concrete” using alternatives to Portland cement, can lead to new types of the material with improved durability and lower emissions footprints. This exhibition provides a firm foundation in concrete’s fascinating history, opening space for informed speculation about its future. Bill Millard is a regular contributor to AN.

When people talk about UX, it’s usually about the things they can see and interact with, like wireframes and prototypes, smart interactions, and design tools like Figma, Miro, or Maze. Some of the outputs are even glamorized, like design systems, research reports, and pixel-perfect UI designs. But here’s the truth I’ve seen again and again in over two decades of working in UX: none of that moves the needle if there is no collaboration. Great UX doesn’t happen in isolation. It happens through conversations with engineers, product managers, customer-facing teams, and the customer support teams who manage support tickets. Amazing UX ideas come alive in messy Miro sessions, cross-functional workshops, and those online chats (e.g., Slack or Teams) where people align, adapt, and co-create. Some of the most impactful moments in my career weren’t when I was “designing” in the traditional sense. They have been gaining incredible insights when discussing problems with teammates who have varied experiences, brainstorming, and coming up with ideas that I never could have come up with on my own. As I always say, ten minds in a room will come up with ten times as many ideas as one mind. Often, many ideas are the most useful outcome. There have been times when a team has helped to reframe a problem in a workshop, taken vague and conflicting feedback, and clarified a path forward, or I’ve sat with a sales rep and heard the same user complaint show up in multiple conversations. This is when design becomes a team sport, and when your ability to capture the outcomes multiplies the UX impact. Why This Article Matters Now The reason collaboration feels so urgent now is that the way we work since COVID has changed, according to a study published by the US Department of Labor. Teams are more cross-functional, often remote, and increasingly complex. Silos are easier to fall into, due to distance or lack of face-to-face contact, and yet alignment has never been more important. We can’t afford to see collaboration as a “nice to have” anymore. It’s a core skill, especially in UX, where our work touches so many parts of an organisation. Let’s break down what collaboration in UX really means, and why it deserves way more attention than it gets. What Is Collaboration In UX, Really? Let’s start by clearing up a misconception. Collaboration is not the same as cooperation. Cooperation: “You do your thing, I’ll do mine, and we’ll check in later.” Collaboration: “Let’s figure this out together and co-own the outcome.” Collaboration, as defined in the book Communication Concepts, published by Deakin University, involves working with others to produce outputs and/or achieve shared goals. The outcome of collaboration is typically a tangible product or a measurable achievement, such as solving a problem or making a decision. Here’s an example from a recent project: Recently, I worked on a fraud alert platform for a fintech business. It was a six-month project, and we had zero access to users, as the product had not yet hit the market. Also, the users were highly specialised in the B2B finance space and were difficult to find. Additionally, the team members I needed to collaborate with were based in Malaysia and Melbourne, while I am located in Sydney. Instead of treating that as a dead end, we turned inward: collaborating with subject matter experts, professional services consultants, compliance specialists, and customer support team members who had deep knowledge of fraud patterns and customer pain points. Through bi-weekly workshops using a Miro board, iterative feedback loops, and sketching sessions, we worked on design solution options. I even asked them to present their own design version as part of the process. After months of iterating on the fraud investigation platform through these collaboration sessions, I ended up with two different design frameworks for the investigator’s dashboard. Instead of just presenting the “best one” and hoping for buy-in, I ran a voting exercise with PMs, engineers, SMEs, and customer support. Everyone had a voice. The winning design was created and validated with the input of the team, resulting in an outcome that solved many problems for the end user and was owned by the entire team. That’s collaboration! It is definitely one of the most satisfying projects of my career. On the other hand, I recently caught up with an old colleague who now serves as a product owner. Her story was a cautionary tale: the design team had gone ahead with a major redesign of an app without looping her in until late in the game. Not surprisingly, the new design missed several key product constraints and business goals. It had to be scrapped and redone, with her now at the table. That experience reinforced what we all know deep down: your best work rarely happens in isolation. As illustrated in my experience, true collaboration can span many roles. It’s not just between designers and PMs. It can also include QA testers who identify real-world issues, content strategists who ensure our language is clear and inclusive, sales representatives who interact with customers on a daily basis, marketers who understand the brand’s voice, and, of course, customer support agents who are often the first to hear when something goes wrong. The best outcomes arrive when we’re open to different perspectives and inputs. Why Collaboration Is So Overlooked? If collaboration is so powerful, why don’t we talk about it more? In my experience, one reason is the myth of the “lone UX hero”. Many of us entered the field inspired by stories of design geniuses revolutionising products on their own. Our portfolios often reflect that as well. We showcase our solo work, our processes, and our wins. Job descriptions often reinforce the idea of the solo UX designer, listing tool proficiency and deliverables more than soft skills and team dynamics. And then there’s the team culture within many organisations of “just get the work done”, which often leads to fewer meetings and tighter deadlines. As a result, a sense of collaboration is inefficient and wasted. I have also experienced working with some designers where perfectionism and territoriality creep in — “This is my design” — which kills the open, communal spirit that collaboration needs. When Collaboration Is The User Research In an ideal world, we’d always have direct access to users. But let’s be real. Sometimes that just doesn’t happen. Whether it’s due to budget constraints, time limitations, or layers of bureaucracy, talking to end users isn’t always possible. That’s where collaboration with team members becomes even more crucial. The next best thing to talking to users? Talking to the people who talk to users. Sales teams, customer success reps, tech support, and field engineers. They’re all user researchers in disguise! On another B2C project, the end users were having trouble completing the key task. My role was to redesign the onboarding experience for an online identity capture tool for end users. I was unable to schedule interviews with end users due to budget and time constraints, so I turned to the sales and tech support teams. I conducted multiple mini-workshops to identify the most common onboarding issues they had heard directly from our customers. This led to a huge “aha” moment: most users dropped off before the document capture process. They may have been struggling with a lack of instruction, not knowing the required time, or not understanding the steps involved in completing the onboarding process. That insight reframed my approach, and we ultimately redesigned the flow to prioritize orientation and clear instructions before proceeding to the setup steps. Below is an example of one of the screen designs, including some of the instructions we added. This kind of collaboration is user research. It’s not a substitute for talking to users directly, but it’s a powerful proxy when you have limited options. But What About Using AI? Glad you asked! Even AI tools, which are increasingly being used for idea generation, pattern recognition, or rapid prototyping, don’t replace collaboration; they just change the shape of it. AI can help you explore design patterns, draft user flows, or generate multiple variations of a layout in seconds. It’s fantastic for getting past creative blocks or pressure-testing your assumptions. But let’s be clear: these tools are accelerators, not oracles. As an innovation and strategy consultant Nathan Waterhouse points out, AI can point you in a direction, but it can’t tell you which direction is the right one in your specific context. That still requires human judgment, empathy, and an understanding of the messy realities of users and business goals. You still need people, especially those closest to your users, to validate, challenge, and evolve any AI-generated idea. For instance, you might use ChatGPT to brainstorm onboarding flows for a SaaS tool, but if you’re not involving customer support reps who regularly hear “I didn’t know where to start” or “I couldn’t even log in,” you’re just working with assumptions. The same applies to engineers who know what is technically feasible or PMs who understand where the business is headed. AI can generate ideas, but only collaboration turns those ideas into something usable, valuable, and real. Think of it as a powerful ingredient, but not the whole recipe. How To Strengthen Your UX Collaboration Skills? If collaboration doesn’t come naturally or hasn’t been a focus, that’s okay. Like any skill, it can be practiced and improved. Here are a few ways to level up: Cultivate curiosity about your teammates.Ask engineers what keeps them up at night. Learn what metrics your PMs care about. Understand the types of tickets the support team handles most frequently. The more you care about their challenges, the more they'll care about yours. Get comfortable facilitating.You don’t need to be a certified Design Sprint master, but learning how to run a structured conversation, align stakeholders, or synthesize different points of view is hugely valuable. Even a simple “What’s working? What’s not?” retro can be an amazing starting point in identifying where you need to focus next. Share early, share often.Don’t wait until your designs are polished to get input. Messy sketches and rough prototypes invite collaboration. When others feel like they’ve helped shape the work, they’re more invested in its success. Practice active listening.When someone critiques your work, don’t immediately defend. Pause. Ask follow-up questions. Reframe the feedback. Collaboration isn’t about consensus; it’s about finding a shared direction that can honour multiple truths. Co-own the outcome.Let go of your ego. The best UX work isn’t “your” work. It’s the result of many voices, skill sets, and conversations converging toward a solution that helps users. It’s not “I”, it’s “we” that will solve this problem together. Conclusion: UX Is A Team Sport Great design doesn’t emerge from a vacuum. It comes from open dialogue, cross-functional understanding, and a shared commitment to solving real problems for real people. If there’s one thing I wish every early-career designer knew, it’s this: Collaboration is not a side skill. It’s the engine behind every meaningful design outcome. And for seasoned professionals, it’s the superpower that turns good teams into great ones. So next time you’re tempted to go heads-down and just “crank out a design,” pause to reflect. Ask who else should be in the room. And invite them in, not just to review your work, but to help create it. Because in the end, the best UX isn’t just what you make. It’s what you make together. Further Reading On SmashingMag “Presenting UX Research And Design To Stakeholders: The Power Of Persuasion,” Victor Yocco “Transforming The Relationship Between Designers And Developers,” Chris Day “Effective Communication For Everyday Meetings,” Andrii Zhdan “Preventing Bad UX Through Integrated Design Workflows,” Ceara Crawshaw

Cicadas are a noisy, persistent pest when they show up. Here's where they're emerging this year, and how you can deal with the racket of Brood XIV.

5 June, 2025 In this series, Clare Dowdy speaks with design studios that are 30+ years old, to find out some of the secrets behind their longevity. Michael Johnson set up his London-based brand consultancy Johnson Banks in 1992. From Duolingo to Pink Floyd, Cancer Research UK to the Royal Astronomical Society, the studio works with “people who want to do big things.” He sat down with Clare Dowdy to discuss what he’s learned over the past 33 years. Michael Johnson How did Johnson Banks come about? My 20s were very turbulent: eight jobs in eight years, a lot of different countries, different cities, learning on the job. My last job – at Smith & Milton – was relatively settled, I was kind of running a corporate design department. I had a client there, Tom Banks. After I left, he also left his role at Legal & General with the projects I had been working on, and we used that as a basis for the company. That was 1992, the back end of a recession. For a couple of years, everything was fine. Then we started having “creative differences.” And the pressures of running a tiny design company are substantial. So we parted ways in 1995, but I kept the name. Johnson Banks’ symbol for the V&A’s William Morris show At that time, we weren’t really in the branding world. For a decade, we were very distracted by getting on the graphic design map, trying to win D&AD awards, doing lovely stamp projects. And then we started to get some cultural projects: the V&A and the British Council. I started to think, OK, now we’re beginning to show what we can do. When and why did you start thinking seriously about your strategy offering? When we started to get into the branding arena, I knew we were underpowered in terms of the strategic thinking. I may have thought that I could do it, but it takes a bit to persuade clients when you’re 35, with hair almost down to your knees. If you’re up against important-looking people who can field a few grey hairs, you’re going to lose that pitch. So we partnered with strategic companies like management consultancy Circus, and followed that model for much of the 2000s. That led to the Shelter rebrand, and a few other quite big branding projects followed. Johnson Banks’ visual identity for Shelter Eventually we realised that we could do the strategy ourselves. I had sometimes been a little frustrated by the work that my strategic partners – naming no names – were doing. It sounds a bit mean, but sometimes I would get this 90-page PowerPoint document from them, and I’d put it on my designers’ desks, and their faces would go blank. I think that 20 years ago, there was still a bit of the idea that you’ve paid £100,000, so here’s your huge document. We slowly realised that if we were in control of the process, and were involved all the way through, then that jump out of the verbal brand to the visual brand could be much better managed. How did you rethink your strategy offer? The penny dropped in the mid-2000s when we worked with Save The Children. At the time, and I don’t think they’d mind me saying this, Save The Children were a bit of a basket case. They were associated with WI fairs and cake baking, and they had a royal as their patron – they were nothing like what they are now. I realised we needed to work out what they stood for before we did any design. I did this huge chart, and stuck it on a wall at the client’s office. And I said, it strikes me that there are strategic choices that you have got to make as a comms team about where you want to take the Save the Children brand. Johnson Banks’ poster for Save the Children That was an incredibly productive meeting, and also it helped us realise that before we got anywhere near the design, we needed to sort this out. I know that sounds like really basic stuff now. I didn’t trust my instinct for a decade or so, but in that Save the Children meeting, a light bulb went on for me. Once you’d worked out how to do strategy in-house why didn’t you scale up? A lot of companies would have done that. That’s how companies grow, and can end up quite quickly at 60 people. We have nearly always been around six to eight people. Because I could bridge that gap between the verbal and the visual, it meant we didn’t need to add people. And I’ve discovered over the last 25 years, that with a really good account director, Katherine Heaton, and me, and a design team, there is a heck of a lot that we can do. So we stayed small and partnered with filmmakers, animators, cultural specialists. Post-pandemic, a lot of people have adopted that hub and spoke model – we did it 20 years ago. Probably twice a year we’ll lose a pitch because of our scale. But conversely, with some clients you can sell in the fact that they’ll always deal with Michael Johnson. They’re not going to be handed down the chain, because there is no chain. Johnson Banks’ logos for Jodrell Bank Alongside this direct contact with you, what’s your main selling point? It seems to be that we think pretty hard about stuff. We almost never jump into design. A lot of thought goes into what we do, sometimes way too much. Sometimes our projects are incredibly difficult, gargantuan, intertwined and really hard to unpick. That’s a slightly poisoned chalice, because then people go, gosh, well, if they could unpick that, then they could unpick our Gordian knot. For example, we’re working on a major London university brand at the moment that has over 60,000 staff and students, 11 faculties, and hundreds of centres and institutes and departments, and we’re trying to navigate a way through. How did you work out what you wanted to specialise in? Sometimes you can get sucked into something that you just don’t want to be doing. By the end of the 1990s, Johnson Banks had got a reputation for doing annual reports. Part of me quite liked doing them because there was an interplay between words and pictures. And we were getting senior level access to clients, which makes you feel a bit better, because you’re having an interface with chief executives. But then I was thinking, hang on, we’re in danger of getting stuck here, because of course, they’re cyclical. And the death of the annual report – and the death of print – was coming over the horizon, with the internet. Johnson Banks’ Annual Report for Polygram (1995) Since then, my interests have changed. I do not have any interest any more in doing awful blue chips or terrible fintechs. I want to apply all the comms and the branding that I’ve learned to people who could really use it – not-for-profit, culture, education, philanthropy. You know, doing good. How did you build up this not-for-profit work? You lean into the referrals you’ll inevitably get within silos where you want to be referred. I learned this from Mary Lewis of Lewis Moberly. We were pretty close in the 1990s and she always said that referral business is the best business. Over 85% of our clients are not-for-profit – most design companies have a 20-80 split between non-profits and commercial clients. I never liked that ratio, what you might cruelly call ‘the Robin Hood principle’ – we are going to steal from our luxury car account and give to the charity. We did do a bit of that for a while. We did an airline in 2009/10 at the same time we were doing charities. I would justify that with the Robin Hood principle, but I just felt more and more uncomfortable with that. Johnson Banks’ campaign visuals for Cancer Research UK As our percentages went up and up in not-for-profit, eventually I said, look, we should just tell people this is who we are, and this is what we do. It was obvious anyway, so let’s be explicit about it. A few people said we were crazy, that we’d never get any work. But the reverse has been the case. We’re on our sixth environmental project. If you say this is what we want to do, and this is what we will do for you, then I think, funnily enough, clients find that very helpful. How did you build up to bigger projects? Let’s take education. We’ve done three or four really interesting campaigns for universities and now we’re in the position where we can do university rebrands, and have won a top 10 global university. But it has taken 15 years of education work to get to that point. I may not have thought that it would take quite so long to persuade people that we could do their identity. But education is a very conservative sector, and moves slowly, like museums and galleries. If you’re small, you can afford for a sector to move slowly, whereas bigger agencies need a pipeline. I’ve watched dozens of companies get to this critical point where they’ve grown and grown and then they’ve just fallen off the cliff because they’ve been feeding the monster. To help with that, agencies often add a new business person. No-one ever talks about this, but a new business person costs around £50,000. The rule of thumb, in my world at least, is that you have to take that salary and triple it with turnover to pay that salary. So you need £150,000 worth of projects to pay for the new business person before you’ve made a penny. So to make a profit, the new business person has to bring in over £200,000 of work. And if this person can do it, which is not guaranteed, then the company has to scale. It’s so easy to get caught on a treadmill. What else has helped you stay in business so long? We’ve always led with the thought behind the idea, not the way it looked. Because I was always much more interested in the idea behind something, I think that has helped us not get sucked into the visual, to use the type face du jour, the colour that everyone else is using. And it’s understandable, because graphic designers want to do stuff that their peers really like. But paradoxically the trick, in my opinion, is to try and zag away from the trends. Create a new trend yourself. Johnson Banks’ globe symbol for the COP 26 climate conference Design disciplines in this article Industries in this article Brands in this article What to read next Neville Brody on clients, education, and his unexpected OBE Graphic Design 30 Jan, 2025

Posted on : June 5, 2025 By Tech World Times AI  Rate this post Artificial intelligence tools now touch nearly every corner of modern business, from customer service and marketing to supply chain management and HR. These powerful technologies promise speed, accuracy, and insight, but their missteps can cause more than temporary inconvenience. A single AI-driven error can result in regulatory investigations, civil lawsuits, or public scandals that threaten the foundation of a business. Understanding how legal exposure arises from AI mistakes—and how a skilled attorney protects your interests—is no longer an option, but a requirement for any forward-thinking business owner. What Types of AI Errors Create Legal Liability? AI does not think or reason like a human; it follows code and statistical patterns, sometimes with unintended results. These missteps can create a trail of legal liability for any business owner. For example, an online retailer’s AI recommends discriminatory pricing, sparking allegations of unfair trade practices. An HR department automates hiring decisions with AI, only to face lawsuits for violating anti-discrimination laws. Even an AI-driven chatbot, when programmed without proper safeguards, can inadvertently give health advice or misrepresent product claims—exposing the company to regulatory penalties. Cases like these are regularly reported in Legal news as businesses discover the high cost of digital shortcuts. When Is a Business Owner Liable for AI Mistakes? Liability rarely rests with the software developer or the tool itself. Courts and regulators expect the business to monitor, supervise, and, when needed, override AI decisions. Suppose a financial advisor uses AI to recommend investments, but the algorithm suggests securities that violate state regulations. Even if the AI was “just following instructions,” the advisor remains responsible for client losses. Similarly, a marketing team cannot escape liability if their AI generates misleading advertising. The bottom line: outsourcing work to AI does not outsource legal responsibility. How Do AI Errors Harm Your Reputation and Operations? AI mistakes can leave lasting marks on a business’s reputation, finances, and operations. A logistics firm’s route-optimization tool creates data leaks that breach customer privacy and trigger costly notifications. An online business suffers public backlash after an AI-powered customer service tool sends offensive responses to clients. Such incidents erode public trust, drive customers to competitors, and divert resources into damage control rather than growth. Worse, compliance failures can result in penalties or shutdown orders, putting the entire enterprise at risk. What Steps Reduce Legal Risk From AI Deployments? Careful planning and continuous oversight keep AI tools working for your business—not against it. Compliance is not a “set it and forget it” matter. Proactive risk management transforms artificial intelligence from a liability into a valuable asset. Routine audits, staff training, and transparent policies form the backbone of safe, effective AI use in any organization. You should review these AI risk mitigation strategies below. Implement Manual Review of Sensitive Outputs: Require human approval for high-risk tasks, such as legal filings, financial transactions, or customer communications. A payroll company’s manual audits prevented the accidental overpayment of employees by catching AI-generated errors before disbursement. Update AI Systems for Regulatory Changes: Stay ahead of new laws and standards by regularly reviewing AI algorithms and outputs. An insurance brokerage avoided regulatory fines by updating their risk assessment models as privacy laws evolved. Document Every Incident and Remediation Step: Keep records of AI errors, investigations, and corrections. A healthcare provider’s transparency during a patient data mix-up helped avoid litigation and regulatory penalties. Limit AI Access to Personal and Sensitive Data: Restrict the scope and permissions of AI tools to reduce the chance of data misuse. A SaaS provider used data minimization techniques, lowering the risk of exposure in case of a system breach. Consult With Attorneys for Custom Policies and Protocols: Collaborate with experienced Attorneys to design, review, and update AI compliance frameworks. How Do Attorneys Shield Your Business From AI Legal Risks? Attorneys provide a critical safety net as AI integrates deeper into business operations. They draft tailored contracts, establish protocols for monitoring and escalation, and assess risks unique to your industry. In the event of an AI-driven incident, legal counsel investigates the facts, manages communication with regulators, and builds a robust defense. By providing training, ongoing guidance, and crisis management support, attorneys ensure that innovation doesn’t lead to exposure—or disaster. With the right legal partner, businesses can harness AI’s power while staying firmly on the right side of the law. Tech World TimesTech World Times (TWT), a global collective focusing on the latest tech news and trends in blockchain, Fintech, Development & Testing, AI and Startups. If you are looking for the guest post then contact at techworldtimes@gmail.com

Great star corals in the grip of disease have been saved with probiotics — beneficial bacteria that attack or displace invading pathogens or possibly trigger immune responses to them. What’s causing this deadly disease remains unidentified. But researchers at the Smithsonian Marine Station in Fort Pierce, Fla., were able to successfully halt progression of the disease’s symptoms, the team reports June 5 in Frontiers in Marine Science. The condition is called stony coral tissue loss disease and is characterized by white lesions that lead to the loss of polyps — tiny soft-bodied organisms similar to sea anemones — blanketing coral. Eventually, nothing but the white coral skeleton is left behind. The disease emerged in Florida in 2014 and has spread rampantly throughout the Florida Keys and the Caribbean. A great star coral (M. cavernosa) colony is infected with stony coral tissue loss disease on the coral reef in Fort Lauderdale. The lesion, where the white band of tissue occurs, typically moves across the coral, killing coral tissue along the way. Kelly Pitts/Smithsonian Researchers suspect that the disease is bacterial in nature. Antibiotic treatments can offer a quick fix, but these drugs do not prevent reinfection and carry the risk of the mysterious pathogen building resistance against them. So, in late 2020, the Smithsonian group tried for a more sustainable solution, giving probiotics to 30 infected great star coral colonies. The helpful microbes came from corals tested in the lab that showed resistance to the disease. “We noticed that one of the coral fragments would not get infected … so one of the first things we did was try to culture the microbes that are on this coral,” says microbiologist Blake Ushijima, who developed the probiotic used in the team’s experiment. “These microbes produce antibacterial compounds … and one had a high level of activity against bacteria from diseased corals,” acting as a “pro” biotic, by somehow neutralizing pathogens. The identified microbe, a bacterium called McH1-7, became the active ingredient in a paste delivered by divers to several infected colonies. They covered these colonies with plastic bags to immerse them in the probiotic solution, injecting the paste into the bags using a syringe. They also applied the paste directly to other colonies, slathering lesions caused by the disease. A probiotic paste of McH1-7 is applied to the disease lesion of a great star coral (M. cavernosa) colony infected with stony coral tissue loss disease. The paste was then smoothed flat with a gloved hand so that all apparently infected tissue was covered by the lesion-specific treatment.Kelly Pitts/Smithsonian For two and a half years, the team monitored the corals’ health. The probiotics slowed or stopped the disease from spreading in all eight colonies treated inside bags. On average, the disease’s ugly advance was held to only 7 percent of tissue, compared with an aggressive 30 percent on untreated colonies. The paste put directly on the coral had no beneficial effect. The results are encouraging, but coauthor Valerie Paul cautions against declaring the probiotic a cure. She doubts the practicality of swimming around with heavily weighted plastic bags and putting them on corals. And, she points out, the study was limited to one species of coral, when the disease plagues over 30. Sponsor Message Still, Ushijima considers the study a proof of concept. “The idea of coral probiotics has been thrown around for decades, but no one has directly shown their effects on disease in the wild,” he says. “I think it’s very exciting because it’s actually opening the door to a new field.”

Get the Popular Science daily newsletter💡 Breakthroughs, discoveries, and DIY tips sent every weekday. Probiotics are everywhere, claiming to help us poop, restore gut health, and more. They can also be used to help threatened coral reefs. A bacterial probiotic has helped slow the spread of stony coral tissue loss disease (SCTLD) in wild corals in Florida that were already infected with the disease. The findings are detailed in a study published June 5 in the journal Frontiers in Marine Science and show that applying this new probiotic treatment across coral colines helped prevent further tissue loss. What is stony coral tissue loss disease (SCTLD)? SCTLD first emerged in Florida in 2014. In the 11 years since, it has rapidly spread throughout the Caribbean. This mysterious ailment has been confirmed in at least 20 other countries and territories. Other coral pathogens typically target specific species. SCTLD infects more than 30 different species of stony corals, including pillar corals and brain corals. The disease causes the soft tissue in the corals to slough off, leaving behind white patches of exposed skeleton. The disease can devastate an entire coral colony in only a few weeks to months.  A great star coral (Montastraea cavernosa) colony infected with stony coral tissue lossdisease (SCTLD) on the coral reef in Fort Lauderdale, FL. The lesion, where the white band of tissue occurs, typically moves across the coral, killing coral tissue along the way. CREDIT: KellyPitts, Smithsonian. The exact cause of SCTLD is still unknown, but it appears to be linked to some kind of harmful bacteria. Currently, the most common treatment for SCTLD is using a paste that contains the antibiotic amoxicillin on diseased corals. However, antibiotics are not a silver bullet. This amoxicillin balm can temporarily halt SCTLD’s spread, but it needs to be frequently reapplied to the lesions on the corals. This takes time and resources, while increasing the likelihood that the microbes causing SCTLD might develop resistance to amoxicillin and related antibiotics. “Antibiotics do not stop future outbreaks,” Valerie Paul, a study co-author and the head scientist at the Smithsonian Marine Station at Fort Pierce, Florida, said in a statement. “The disease can quickly come back, even on the same coral colonies that have been treated.” Finding the right probiotic Paul and her colleagues have spent over six years investigating whether beneficial microorganisms (aka probiotics) could be a longer lasting alternative to combat this pathogen. Just like humans, corals are host to communities known as microbiomes that are bustling with all different types of bacteria. Some of these miniscule organisms produce antioxidants and vitamins that can help keep their coral hosts healthy.  First, the team looked at the microbiomes of corals that are impervious to SCTLD to try and harvest probiotics from these disease-resistant species. In theory, these could be used to strengthen the microbiomes of susceptible corals.  They tested over 200 strains of bacteria from disease-resistant corals and published a study in 2023 about the probiotic Pseudoalteromonas sp. McH1-7 (or McH1-7 for short). Taken from the great star coral (Montastraea cavernosa), this probiotic produces several antibacterial compounds. Having such a stacked antibacterial toolbox made McH1-7 an ideal candidate to combat a pathogen like SCTLD. They initially tested McH1-7 on live pieces of M. cavernosa and found that the probiotic reliably prevented the spread of SCTLD in the lab. After these successful lab tests, the wild ocean called next. Testing in the ocean The team conducted several field tests on a shallow reef near Fort Lauderdale, focusing on 40 M. cavernosa colonies that showed signs of SCTLD. Some of the corals in these colonies received a paste containing the probiotic McH1-7 that was applied directly to the disease lesions. They treated the other corals with a solution of seawater containing McH1-7 and covered them using weighted plastic bags. The probiotics were administered inside the bag in order to cover the entire coral colony.   “This created a little mini-aquarium that kept the probiotics around each coral colony,” Paul said. For two and a half years, they monitored the colonies, taking multiple rounds of tissue and mucus samples to see how the corals’ microbiomes were changing over time. They found that  the McH1-7 probiotic successfully slowed the spread of SCTLD when it was delivered to the entire colony using the bag and solution method. According to the samples, the probiotic was effective without dominating the corals’ natural microbes.  Kelly Pitts, a research technician with the Smithsonian Marine Station at Ft. Pierce, Floridaand co-lead author of the study treats great star coral (Montaststraea cavernosa) colonies infected with SCTLD with probiotic strain McH1-7 by covering the coral colony in a plastic bag, injecting a probiotic bacteria solution into the bag and leaving the bag for two hours to allow for the bacteria to colonize on the coral. CREDIT: Hunter Noren. Fighting nature with nature While using this probiotic appears to be an effective treatment for SCTLD among the reefs of northern Florida, additional work is needed to see how it could work in other regions. Similar tests on reefs in the Florida Keys have been conducted, with mixed preliminary results, likely due to regional differences in SCTLD. The team believes that probiotics still could become a crucial tool for combatting SCTLD across the Caribbean, especially as scientists fine tune how to administer them. Importantly, these beneficial bacteria support what corals already do naturally.  “Corals are naturally rich with bacteria and it’s not surprising that the bacterial composition is important for their health,” Paul said. “We’re trying to figure out which bacteria can make these vibrant microbiomes even stronger.”

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

Once again, Sam Altman wants to show you the future. The CEO of OpenAI is standing on a sparse stage in San Francisco, preparing to reveal his next move to an attentive crowd. “We needed some way for identifying, authenticating humans in the age of AGI,” Altman explains, referring to artificial general intelligence. “We wanted a way to make sure that humans stayed special and central.” The solution Altman came up with is looming behind him. It’s a white sphere about the size of a beach ball, with a camera at its center. The company that makes it, known as Tools for Humanity, calls this mysterious device the Orb. Stare into the heart of the plastic-and-silicon globe and it will map the unique furrows and ciliary zones of your iris. Seconds later, you’ll receive inviolable proof of your humanity: a 12,800-digit binary number, known as an iris code, sent to an app on your phone. At the same time, a packet of cryptocurrency called Worldcoin, worth approximately $42, will be transferred to your digital wallet—your reward for becoming a “verified human.” Altman co-founded Tools for Humanity in 2019 as part of a suite of companies he believed would reshape the world. Once the tech he was developing at OpenAI passed a certain level of intelligence, he reasoned, it would mark the end of one era on the Internet and the beginning of another, in which AI became so advanced, so human-like, that you would no longer be able to tell whether what you read, saw, or heard online came from a real person. When that happened, Altman imagined, we would need a new kind of online infrastructure: a human-verification layer for the Internet, to distinguish real people from the proliferating number of bots and AI “agents.”And so Tools for Humanity set out to build a global “proof-of-humanity” network. It aims to verify 50 million people by the end of 2025; ultimately its goal is to sign up every single human being on the planet. The free crypto serves as both an incentive for users to sign up, and also an entry point into what the company hopes will become the world’s largest financial network, through which it believes “double-digit percentages of the global economy” will eventually flow. Even for Altman, these missions are audacious. “If this really works, it’s like a fundamental piece of infrastructure for the world,” Altman tells TIME in a video interview from the passenger seat of a car a few days before his April 30 keynote address.Internal hardware of the Orb in mid-assembly in March. Davide Monteleone for TIMEThe project’s goal is to solve a problem partly of Altman’s own making. In the near future, he and other tech leaders say, advanced AIs will be imbued with agency: the ability to not just respond to human prompting, but to take actions independently in the world. This will enable the creation of AI coworkers that can drop into your company and begin solving problems; AI tutors that can adapt their teaching style to students’ preferences; even AI doctors that can diagnose routine cases and handle scheduling or logistics. The arrival of these virtual agents, their venture capitalist backers predict, will turbocharge our productivity and unleash an age of material abundance.But AI agents will also have cascading consequences for the human experience online. “As AI systems become harder to distinguish from people, websites may face difficult trade-offs,” says a recent paper by researchers from 25 different universities, nonprofits, and tech companies, including OpenAI. “There is a significant risk that digital institutions will be unprepared for a time when AI-powered agents, including those leveraged by malicious actors, overwhelm other activity online.” On social-media platforms like X and Facebook, bot-driven accounts are amassing billions of views on AI-generated content. In April, the foundation that runs Wikipedia disclosed that AI bots scraping their site were making the encyclopedia too costly to sustainably run. Later the same month, researchers from the University of Zurich found that AI-generated comments on the subreddit /r/ChangeMyView were up to six times more successful than human-written ones at persuading unknowing users to change their minds.  Photograph by Davide Monteleone for TIMEBuy a copy of the Orb issue hereThe arrival of agents won’t only threaten our ability to distinguish between authentic and AI content online. It will also challenge the Internet’s core business model, online advertising, which relies on the assumption that ads are being viewed by humans. “The Internet will change very drastically sometime in the next 12 to 24 months,” says Tools for Humanity CEO Alex Blania. “So we have to succeed, or I’m not sure what else would happen.”For four years, Blania’s team has been testing the Orb’s hardware abroad. Now the U.S. rollout has arrived. Over the next 12 months, 7,500 Orbs will be arriving in dozens of American cities, in locations like gas stations, bodegas, and flagship stores in Los Angeles, Austin, and Miami. The project’s founders and fans hope the Orb’s U.S. debut will kickstart a new phase of growth. The San Francisco keynote was titled: “At Last.” It’s not clear the public appetite matches the exultant branding. Tools for Humanity has “verified” just 12 million humans since mid 2023, a pace Blania concedes is well behind schedule. Few online platforms currently support the so-called “World ID” that the Orb bestows upon its visitors, leaving little to entice users to give up their biometrics beyond the lure of free crypto. Even Altman isn’t sure whether the whole thing can work. “I can see [how] this becomes a fairly mainstream thing in a few years,” he says. “Or I can see that it’s still only used by a small subset of people who think about the world in a certain way.” Blania (left) and Altman debut the Orb at World’s U.S. launch in San Francisco on April 30, 2025. Jason Henry—The New York Times/ReduxYet as the Internet becomes overrun with AI, the creators of this strange new piece of hardware are betting that everybody in the world will soon want—or need—to visit an Orb. The biometric code it creates, they predict, will become a new type of digital passport, without which you might be denied passage to the Internet of the future, from dating apps to government services. In a best-case scenario, World ID could be a privacy-preserving way to fortify the Internet against an AI-driven deluge of fake or deceptive content. It could also enable the distribution of universal basic income (UBI)—a policy that Altman has previously touted—as AI automation transforms the global economy. To examine what this new technology might mean, I reported from three continents, interviewed 10 Tools for Humanity executives and investors, reviewed hundreds of pages of company documents, and “verified” my own humanity. The Internet will inevitably need some kind of proof-of-humanity system in the near future, says Divya Siddarth, founder of the nonprofit Collective Intelligence Project. The real question, she argues, is whether such a system will be centralized—“a big security nightmare that enables a lot of surveillance”—or privacy-preserving, as the Orb claims to be. Questions remain about Tools for Humanity’s corporate structure, its yoking to an unstable cryptocurrency, and what power it would concentrate in the hands of its owners if successful. Yet it’s also one of the only attempts to solve what many see as an increasingly urgent problem. “There are some issues with it,” Siddarth says of World ID. “But you can’t preserve the Internet in amber. Something in this direction is necessary.”In March, I met Blania at Tools for Humanity’s San Francisco headquarters, where a large screen displays the number of weekly “Orb verifications” by country. A few days earlier, the CEO had attended a $1 million-per-head dinner at Mar-a-Lago with President Donald Trump, whom he credits with clearing the way for the company’s U.S. launch by relaxing crypto regulations. “Given Sam is a very high profile target,” Blania says, “we just decided that we would let other companies fight that fight, and enter the U.S. once the air is clear.” As a kid growing up in Germany, Blania was a little different than his peers. “Other kids were, like, drinking a lot, or doing a lot of parties, and I was just building a lot of things that could potentially blow up,” he recalls. At the California Institute of Technology, where he was pursuing research for a masters degree, he spent many evenings reading the blogs of startup gurus like Paul Graham and Altman. Then, in 2019, Blania received an email from Max Novendstern, an entrepreneur who had been kicking around a concept with Altman to build a global cryptocurrency network. They were looking for technical minds to help with the project. Over cappuccinos, Altman told Blania he was certain about three things. First, smarter-than-human AI was not only possible, but inevitable—and it would soon mean you could no longer assume that anything you read, saw, or heard on the Internet was human-created. Second, cryptocurrency and other decentralized technologies would be a massive force for change in the world. And third, scale was essential to any crypto network’s value. The Orb is tested on a calibration rig, surrounded by checkerboard targets to ensure precision in iris detection. Davide Monteleone for TIMEThe goal of Worldcoin, as the project was initially called, was to combine those three insights. Altman took a lesson from PayPal, the company co-founded by his mentor Peter Thiel. Of its initial funding, PayPal spent less than $10 million actually building its app—but pumped an additional $70 million or so into a referral program, whereby new users and the person who invited them would each receive $10 in credit. The referral program helped make PayPal a leading payment platform. Altman thought a version of that strategy would propel Worldcoin to similar heights. He wanted to create a new cryptocurrency and give it to users as a reward for signing up. The more people who joined the system, the higher the token’s value would theoretically rise. Since 2019, the project has raised $244 million from investors like Coinbase and the venture capital firm Andreessen Horowitz. That money paid for the $50 million cost of designing the Orb, plus maintaining the software it runs on. The total market value of all Worldcoins in existence, however, is far higher—around $12 billion. That number is a bit misleading: most of those coins are not in circulation and Worldcoin’s price has fluctuated wildly. Still, it allows the company to reward users for signing up at no cost to itself. The main lure for investors is the crypto upside. Some 75% of all Worldcoins are set aside for humans to claim when they sign up, or as referral bonuses. The remaining 25% are split between Tools for Humanity’s backers and staff, including Blania and Altman. “I’m really excited to make a lot of money,” ” Blania says.From the beginning, Altman was thinking about the consequences of the AI revolution he intended to unleash. (On May 21, he announced plans to team up with famed former Apple designer Jony Ive on a new AI personal device.) A future in which advanced AI could perform most tasks more effectively than humans would bring a wave of unemployment and economic dislocation, he reasoned. Some kind of wealth redistribution might be necessary. In 2016, he partially funded a study of basic income, which gave $1,000 per-month handouts to low-income individuals in Illinois and Texas. But there was no single financial system that would allow money to be sent to everybody in the world. Nor was there a way to stop an individual human from claiming their share twice—or to identify a sophisticated AI pretending to be human and pocketing some cash of its own. In 2023, Tools for Humanity raised the possibility of using the network to redistribute the profits of AI labs that were able to automate human labor. “As AI advances,” it said, “fairly distributing access and some of the created value through UBI will play an increasingly vital role in counteracting the concentration of economic power.”Blania was taken by the pitch, and agreed to join the project as a co-founder. “Most people told us we were very stupid or crazy or insane, including Silicon Valley investors,” Blania says. At least until ChatGPT came out in 2022, transforming OpenAI into one of the world’s most famous tech companies and kickstarting a market bull-run. “Things suddenly started to make more and more sense to the external world,” Blania says of the vision to develop a global “proof-of-humanity” network. “You have to imagine a world in which you will have very smart and competent systems somehow flying through the Internet with different goals and ideas of what they want to do, and us having no idea anymore what we’re dealing with.”After our interview, Blania’s head of communications ushers me over to a circular wooden structure where eight Orbs face one another. The scene feels like a cross between an Apple Store and a ceremonial altar. “Do you want to get verified?” she asks. Putting aside my reservations for the purposes of research, I download the World App and follow its prompts. I flash a QR code at the Orb, then gaze into it. A minute or so later, my phone buzzes with confirmation: I’ve been issued my own personal World ID and some Worldcoin.The first thing the Orb does is check if you’re human, using a neural network that takes input from various sensors, including an infrared camera and a thermometer. Davide Monteleone for TIMEWhile I stared into the Orb, several complex procedures had taken place at once. A neural network took inputs from multiple sensors—an infrared camera, a thermometer—to confirm I was a living human. Simultaneously, a telephoto lens zoomed in on my iris, capturing the physical traits within that distinguish me from every other human on Earth. It then converted that image into an iris code: a numerical abstraction of my unique biometric data. Then the Orb checked to see if my iris code matched any it had seen before, using a technique allowing encrypted data to be compared without revealing the underlying information. Before the Orb deleted my data, it turned my iris code into several derivative codes—none of which on its own can be linked back to the original—encrypted them, deleted the only copies of the decryption keys, and sent each one to a different secure server, so that future users’ iris codes can be checked for uniqueness against mine. If I were to use my World ID to access a website, that site would learn nothing about me except that I’m human. The Orb is open-source, so outside experts can examine its code and verify the company’s privacy claims. “I did a colonoscopy on this company and these technologies before I agreed to join,” says Trevor Traina, a Trump donor and former U.S. ambassador to Austria who now serves as Tools for Humanity’s chief business officer. “It is the most privacy-preserving technology on the planet.”Only weeks later, when researching what would happen if I wanted to delete my data, do I discover that Tools for Humanity’s privacy claims rest on what feels like a sleight of hand. The company argues that in modifying your iris code, it has “effectively anonymized” your biometric data. If you ask Tools for Humanity to delete your iris codes, they will delete the one stored on your phone, but not the derivatives. Those, they argue, are no longer your personal data at all. But if I were to return to an Orb after deleting my data, it would still recognize those codes as uniquely mine. Once you look into the Orb, a piece of your identity remains in the system forever. If users could truly delete that data, the premise of one ID per human would collapse, Tools for Humanity’s chief privacy officer Damien Kieran tells me when I call seeking an explanation. People could delete and sign up for new World IDs after being suspended from a platform. Or claim their Worldcoin tokens, sell them, delete their data, and cash in again. This argument fell flat with European Union regulators in Germany, who recently declared that the Orb posed “fundamental data protection issues” and ordered the company to allow European users to fully delete even their anonymized data. (Tools for Humanity has appealed; the regulator is now reassessing the decision.) “Just like any other technology service, users cannot delete data that is not personal data,” Kieran said in a statement. “If a person could delete anonymized data that can’t be linked to them by World or any third party, it would allow bad actors to circumvent the security and safety that World ID is working to bring to every human.”On a balmy afternoon this spring, I climb a flight of stairs up to a room above a restaurant in an outer suburb of Seoul. Five elderly South Koreans tap on their phones as they wait to be “verified” by the two Orbs in the center of the room. “We don’t really know how to distinguish between AI and humans anymore,” an attendant in a company t-shirt explains in Korean, gesturing toward the spheres. “We need a way to verify that we’re human and not AI. So how do we do that? Well, humans have irises, but AI doesn’t.”The attendant ushers an elderly woman over to an Orb. It bleeps. “Open your eyes,” a disembodied voice says in English. The woman stares into the camera. Seconds later, she checks her phone and sees that a packet of Worldcoin worth 75,000 Korean won (about $54) has landed in her digital wallet. Congratulations, the app tells her. You are now a verified human.A visitor views the Orbs in Seoul on April 14, 2025. Taemin Ha for TIMETools for Humanity aims to “verify” 1 million Koreans over the next year. Taemin Ha for TIMEA couple dozen Orbs have been available in South Korea since 2023, verifying roughly 55,000 people. Now Tools for Humanity is redoubling its efforts there. At an event in a traditional wooden hanok house in central Seoul, an executive announces that 250 Orbs will soon be dispersed around the country—with the aim of verifying 1 million Koreans in the next 12 months. South Korea has high levels of smartphone usage, crypto and AI adoption, and Internet access, while average wages are modest enough for the free Worldcoin on offer to still be an enticing draw—all of which makes it fertile testing ground for the company’s ambitious global expansion. Yet things seem off to a slow start. In a retail space I visited in central Seoul, Tools for Humanity had constructed a wooden structure with eight Orbs facing each other. Locals and tourists wander past looking bemused; few volunteer themselves up. Most who do tell me they are crypto enthusiasts who came intentionally, driven more by the spirit of early adoption than the free coins. The next day, I visit a coffee shop in central Seoul where a chrome Orb sits unassumingly in one corner. Wu Ruijun, a 20-year-old student from China, strikes up a conversation with the barista, who doubles as the Orb’s operator. Wu was invited here by a friend who said both could claim free cryptocurrency if he signed up. The barista speeds him through the process. Wu accepts the privacy disclosure without reading it, and widens his eyes for the Orb. Soon he’s verified. “I wasn’t told anything about the privacy policy,” he says on his way out. “I just came for the money.”As Altman’s car winds through San Francisco, I ask about the vision he laid out in 2019: that AI would make it harder for us to trust each other online. To my surprise, he rejects the framing. “I’m much more [about] like: what is the good we can create, rather than the bad we can stop?” he says. “It’s not like, ‘Oh, we’ve got to avoid the bot overrun’ or whatever. It’s just that we can do a lot of special things for humans.” It’s an answer that may reflect how his role has changed over the years. Altman is now the chief public cheerleader of a $300 billion company that’s touting the transformative utility of AI agents. The rise of agents, he and others say, will be a boon for our quality of life—like having an assistant on hand who can answer your most pressing questions, carry out mundane tasks, and help you develop new skills. It’s an optimistic vision that may well pan out. But it doesn’t quite fit with the prophecies of AI-enabled infopocalypse that Tools for Humanity was founded upon.Altman waves away a question about the influence he and other investors stand to gain if their vision is realized. Most holders, he assumes, will have already started selling their tokens—too early, he adds. “What I think would be bad is if an early crew had a lot of control over the protocol,” he says, “and that’s where I think the commitment to decentralization is so cool.” Altman is referring to the World Protocol, the underlying technology upon which the Orb, Worldcoin, and World ID all rely. Tools for Humanity is developing it, but has committed to giving control to its users over time—a process they say will prevent power from being concentrated in the hands of a few executives or investors. Tools for Humanity would remain a for-profit company, and could levy fees on platforms that use World ID, but other companies would be able to compete for customers by building alternative apps—or even alternative Orbs. The plan draws on ideas that animated the crypto ecosystem in the late 2010s and early 2020s, when evangelists for emerging blockchain technologies argued that the centralization of power—especially in large so-called “Web 2.0” tech companies—was responsible for many of the problems plaguing the modern Internet. Just as decentralized cryptocurrencies could reform a financial system controlled by economic elites, so too would it be possible to create decentralized organizations, run by their members instead of CEOs. How such a system might work in practice remains unclear. “Building a community-based governance system,” Tools for Humanity says in a 2023 white paper, “represents perhaps the most formidable challenge of the entire project.”Altman has a pattern of making idealistic promises that shift over time. He founded OpenAI as a nonprofit in 2015, with a mission to develop AGI safely and for the benefit of all humanity. To raise money, OpenAI restructured itself as a for-profit company in 2019, but with overall control still in the hands of its nonprofit board. Last year, Altman proposed yet another restructure—one which would dilute the board’s control and allow more profits to flow to shareholders. Why, I ask, should the public trust Tools for Humanity’s commitment to freely surrender influence and power? “I think you will just see the continued decentralization via the protocol,” he says. “The value here is going to live in the network, and the network will be owned and governed by a lot of people.” Altman talks less about universal basic income these days. He recently mused about an alternative, which he called “universal basic compute.” Instead of AI companies redistributing their profits, he seemed to suggest, they could instead give everyone in the world fair access to super-powerful AI. Blania tells me he recently “made the decision to stop talking” about UBI at Tools for Humanity. “UBI is one potential answer,” he says. “Just giving [people] access to the latest [AI] models and having them learn faster and better is another.” Says Altman: “I still don’t know what the right answer is. I believe we should do a better job of distribution of resources than we currently do.” When I probe the question of why people should trust him, Altman gets irritated. “I understand that you hate AI, and that’s fine,” he says. “If you want to frame it as the downside of AI is that there’s going to be a proliferation of very convincing AI systems that are pretending to be human, and we need ways to know what is really human-authorized versus not, then yeah, I think you can call that a downside of AI. It’s not how I would naturally frame it.” The phrase human-authorized hints at a tension between World ID and OpenAI’s plans for AI agents. An Internet where a World ID is required to access most services might impede the usefulness of the agents that OpenAI and others are developing. So Tools for Humanity is building a system that would allow users to delegate their World ID to an agent, allowing the bot to take actions online on their behalf, according to Tiago Sada, the company’s chief product officer. “We’ve built everything in a way that can be very easily delegatable to an agent,” Sada says. It’s a measure that would allow humans to be held accountable for the actions of their AIs. But it suggests that Tools for Humanity’s mission may be shifting beyond simply proving humanity, and toward becoming the infrastructure that enables AI agents to proliferate with human authorization. World ID doesn’t tell you whether a piece of content is AI-generated or human-generated; all it tells you is whether the account that posted it is a human or a bot. Even in a world where everybody had a World ID, our online spaces might still be filled with AI-generated text, images, and videos.As I say goodbye to Altman, I’m left feeling conflicted about his project. If the Internet is going to be transformed by AI agents, then some kind of proof-of-humanity system will almost certainly be necessary. Yet if the Orb becomes a piece of Internet infrastructure, it could give Altman—a beneficiary of the proliferation of AI content—significant influence over a leading defense mechanism against it. People might have no choice but to participate in the network in order to access social media or online services.I thought of an encounter I witnessed in Seoul. In the room above the restaurant, Cho Jeong-yeon, 75, watched her friend get verified by an Orb. Cho had been invited to do the same, but demurred. The reward wasn’t enough for her to surrender a part of her identity. “Your iris is uniquely yours, and we don’t really know how it might be used,” she says. “Seeing the machine made me think: are we becoming machines instead of humans now? Everything is changing, and we don’t know how it’ll all turn out.”—With reporting by Stephen Kim/Seoul. This story was supported by Tarbell Grants.Correction, May 30The original version of this story misstated the market capitalization of Worldcoin if all coins were in circulation. It is $12 billion, not $1.2 billion.

SYNDICATE WORKFORCE SOLUTIONS is partnering with a leading-edge client to identify a Staff Rendering Systems Engineer / Architect in Newark, CA. This opportunity is ideal for a technical visionary ready to lead rendering infrastructure initiatives at the forefront of visual effects, automotive visualization, and simulation technology. We are specifically seeking individuals with world-class experience at studios involving high-performance render-intensive environments. If you’ve helped build the rendering backbone behind iconic animated or VFX-heavy productions, we want you on this team. About the Role The Staff Rendering Systems Engineer will architect and optimize rendering infrastructure for high-performance, scalable operations. You will work cross-functionally with engineering and production teams to enhance pipeline efficiency, implement automation, and solve complex technical issues in rendering workflows. You’ll also provide thought leadership in infrastructure planning and help shape a secure and future-ready rendering technology roadmap. Key Responsibilities Define and implement architectural strategies for scalable rendering infrastructure and workflows. Oversee and optimize Deadline render farm configuration for performance, efficiency, and scalability. Automate rendering pipeline tasks using Bash, Python, SQL, and Ruby to improve throughput and reduce manual overhead. Lead research and implementation of cloud-based rendering technologies. Collaborate with cross-functional teams to troubleshoot rendering issues and ensure system performance. Establish and maintain best practices for security, reliability, and system scalability. Advise on OS lifecycle management, virtualization, and package management. Participate in high-level architectural planning to align with business and technology goals. Required Qualifications Bachelor’s degree in computer science, Engineering, or equivalent technical field. 8+ years of hands-on experience managing render farms, preferably within CGI/VFX production environments. Strong experience with rendering pipelines and farm management tools such as Deadline. Proven expertise in large-scale rendering infrastructure design and maintenance. Background working in or supporting large design studios specializing in visual effects, animation, or interactive content production. Technical Skills Strong knowledge of server hardware, storage systems, and GPU/CPU rendering technologies. Fluency in scripting languages (Bash, Python, SQL, Ruby). Familiarity with virtualization, OS management, and performance optimization. Understanding of render farm automation, security principles, and DevOps-style deployment. How to Apply Submit your resume to Resumes@swfs.ai today and take the next step in your professional journey with SYNDICATE WORKFORCE SOLUTIONS – Empowering Talent. Advancing Technology. Driving Innovation.