In “The Optimist: Sam Altman, OpenAI, and the Race to Invent the Future,” Wall Street Journal reporter Keach Hagey examines our AI-obsessed moment through one of its key figures — Sam Altman, co-founder and CEO of OpenAI. Hagey begins with Altman’s Midwest childhood, then takes readers through his career at startup Loopt, accelerator Y Combinator, and now at OpenAI. She also sheds new light on the dramatic few days when Altman was fired, then quickly reinstated, as OpenAI’s CEO. Looking back at what OpenAI employees now call “the Blip,” Hagey said the failed attempt to oust Altman revealed that OpenAI’s complex structure — with a for-profit company controlled by a nonprofit board — is “not stable.” And with OpenAI largely backing down from plans to let the for-profit side take control, Hagey predicted that this “fundamentally unstable arrangement” will “continue to give investors pause.” Does that mean OpenAI could struggle to raise the funds it needs to keep going? Hagey replied that it could “absolutely” be an issue. “My research into Sam suggests that he might well be up to that challenge,” she said. “But success is not guaranteed.” In addition, Hagey’s biography (also available as an audiobook on Spotify) examines Altman’s politics, which she described as “pretty traditionally progressive” — making it a bit surprising that he’s struck massive infrastructure deals with the backing of the Trump administration. “But this is one area where, in some ways, I feel like Sam Altman has been born for this moment, because he is a deal maker and Trump is a deal maker,” Hagey said. “Trump respects nothing so much as a big deal with a big price tag on it, and that is what Sam Altman is really great at.” Techcrunch event Save now through June 4 for TechCrunch Sessions: AI Save $300 on your ticket to TC Sessions: AI—and get 50% off a second. Hear from leaders at OpenAI, Anthropic, Khosla Ventures, and more during a full day of expert insights, hands-on workshops, and high-impact networking. These low-rate deals disappear when the doors open on June 5. Exhibit at TechCrunch Sessions: AI Secure your spot at TC Sessions: AI and show 1,200+ decision-makers what you’ve built — without the big spend. Available through May 9 or while tables last. Berkeley, CA | June 5 REGISTER NOW In an interview with TechCrunch, Hagey also discussed Altman’s response to the book, his trustworthiness, and the AI “hype universe.” This interview has been edited for length and clarity.  You open the book by acknowledging some of the reservations that Sam Altman had about the project —  this idea that we tend to focus too much on individuals rather than organizations or broad movements, and also that it’s way too early to assess the impact of OpenAI. Did you share those concerns? Well, I don’t really share them, because this was a biography. This project was to look at a person, not an organization. And I also think that Sam Altman has set himself up in a way where it does matter what kind of moral choices he has made and what his moral formation has been, because the broad project of AI is really a moral project. That is the basis of OpenAI’s existence. So I think these are fair questions to ask about a person, not just an organization. As far as whether it’s too soon, I mean, sure, it’s definitely [early to] assess the entire impact of AI. But it’s been an extraordinary story for OpenAI — just so far, it’s already changed the stock market, it has changed the entire narrative of business. I’m a business journalist. We do nothing but talk about AI, all day long, every day. So in that way, I don’t think it’s too early. And despite those reservations, Altman did cooperate with you. Can you say more about what your relationship with him was like during the process of researching the book? Well, he was definitely not happy when he was informed about the book’s existence. And there was a long period of negotiation, frankly. In the beginning, I figured I was going to write this book without his help — what we call, in the business, a write-around profile. I’ve done plenty of those over my career, and I figured this would just be one more. Over time, as I made more and more calls, he opened up a little bit. And [eventually,] he was generous to sit down with me several times for long interviews and share his thoughts with me. Has he responded to the finished book at all? No. He did tweet about the project, about his decision to participate with it, but he was very clear that he was never going to read it. It’s the same way that I don’t like to watch my TV appearances or podcasts that I’m on. In the book, he’s described as this emblematic Silicon Valley figure. What do you think are the key characteristics that make him representative of the Valley and the tech industry? In the beginning, I think it was that he was young. The Valley really glorifies youth, and he was 19 years old when he started his first startup. You see him going into these meetings with people twice his age, doing deals with telecom operators for his first startup, and no one could get over that this kid was so smart. The other is that he is a once-in-a-generation fundraising talent, and that’s really about being a storyteller. I don’t think it’s an accident that you have essentially a salesman and a fundraiser at the top of the most important AI company today, That ties into one of the questions that runs through the book — this question about Altman’s trustworthiness. Can you say more about the concerns people seem to have about that? To what extent is he a trustworthy figure?  Well, he’s a salesman, so he’s really excellent at getting in a room and convincing people that he can see the future and that he has something in common with them. He gets people to share his vision, which is a rare talent. There are people who’ve watched that happen a bunch of times, who think, “Okay, what he says does not always map to reality,” and have, over time, lost trust in him. This happened both at his first startup and very famously at OpenAI, as well as at Y Combinator. So it is a pattern, but I think it’s a typical critique of people who have the salesman skill set. So it’s not necessarily that he’s particularly untrustworthy, but it’s part-and-parcel of being a salesman leading these important companies. I mean, there also are management issues that are detailed in the book, where he is not great at dealing with conflict, so he’ll basically tell people what they want to hear. That causes a lot of sturm-und-drang in the management ranks, and it’s a pattern. Something like that happened at Loopt, where the executives asked the board to replace him as CEO. And you saw it happen at OpenAI as well. You’ve touched on Altman’s firing, which was also covered in a book excerpt that was published in the Wall Street Journal. One of the striking things to me, looking back at it, was just how complicated everything was — all the different factions within the company, all the people who seemed pro-Altman one day and then anti-Altman the next. When you pull back from the details, what do you think is the bigger significance of that incident? The very big picture is that the nonprofit governance structure is not stable. You can’t really take investment from the likes of Microsoft and a bunch of other investors and then give them absolutely no say whatsoever in the governance of the company. That’s what they have tried to do, but I think what we saw in that firing is how power actually works in the world. When you have stakeholders, even if there’s a piece of paper that says they have no rights, they still have power. And when it became clear that everyone in the company was going to go to Microsoft if they didn’t reinstate Sam Altman, they reinstated Sam Altman. In the book, you take the story up to maybe the end of 2024. There have been all these developments since then, which you’ve continued to report on, including this announcement that actually, they’re not fully converting to a for-profit. How do you think that’s going to affect OpenAI going forward?  It’s going to make it harder for them to raise money, because they basically had to do an about-face. I know that the new structure going forward of the public benefit corporation is not exactly the same as the current structure of the for-profit — it is a little bit more investor friendly, it does clarify some of those things. But overall, what you have is a nonprofit board that controls a for-profit company, and that fundamentally unstable arrangement is what led to the so-called Blip. And I think you would continue to give investors pause, going forward, if they are going to have so little control over their investment. Obviously, OpenAI is still such a capital intensive business. If they have challenges raising more money, is that an existential question for the company? It absolutely could be. My research into Sam suggests that he might well be up to that challenge. But success is not guaranteed. Like you said, there’s a dual perspective in the book that’s partly about who Sam is, and partly about what that says about where AI is going from here. How did that research into his particular story shape the way you now look at these broader debates about AI and society? I went down a rabbit hole in the beginning of the book, [looking] into Sam’s father, Jerry Altman, in part because I thought it was striking how he’d been written out of basically every other thing that had ever been written about Sam Altman. What I found in this research was a very idealistic man who was, from youth, very interested in these public-private partnerships and the power of the government to set policy. He ended up having an impact on the way that affordable housing is still financed to this day. And when I traced Sam’s development, I saw that he has long believed that the government should really be the one that is funding and guiding AI research. In the early days of OpenAI, they went and tried to get the government to invest, as he’s publicly said, and it didn’t work out. But he looks back to these great mid-20th century labs like Xerox PARC and Bell Labs, which are private, but there was a ton of government money running through and supporting that ecosystem. And he says, “That’s the right way to do it.” Now I am watching daily as it seems like the United States is summoning the forces of state capitalism to get behind Sam Altman’s project to build these data centers, both in the United States and now there was just one last week announced in Abu Dhabi. This is a vision he has had for a very, very long time. My sense of the vision, as he presented it earlier, was one where, on the one hand, the government is funding these things and building this infrastructure, and on the other hand, the government is also regulating and guiding AI development for safety purposes. And it now seems like the path being pursued is one where they’re backing away from the safety side and doubling down on the government investment side. Absolutely. Isn’t it fascinating?  You talk about Sam as a political figure, as someone who’s had political ambitions at different times, but also somebody who has what are in many ways traditionally liberal political views while being friends with folks like — at least early on — Elon Musk and Peter Thiel. And he’s done a very good job of navigating the Trump administration. What do you think his politics are right now? I’m not sure his actual politics have changed, they are pretty traditionally progressive politics. Not completely — he’s been critical about things like cancel culture, but in general, he thinks the government is there to take tax revenue and solve problems. His success in the Trump administration has been fascinating because he has been able to find their one area of overlap, which is the desire to build a lot of data centers, and just double down on that and not talk about any other stuff. But this is one area where, in some ways, I feel like Sam Altman has been born for this moment, because he is a deal maker and Trump is a deal maker. Trump respects nothing so much as a big deal with a big price tag on it, and that is what Sam Altman is really great at. You open and close the book not just with Sam’s father, but with his family as a whole. What else is worth highlighting in terms of how his upbringing and family shapes who he is now? Well, you see both the idealism from his father and also the incredible ambition from his mother, who was a doctor, and had four kids and worked as a dermatologist. I think both of these things work together to shape him. They also had a more troubled marriage than I realized going into the book. So I do think that there’s some anxiety there that Sam himself is very upfront about, that he was a pretty anxious person for much of his life, until he did some meditation and had some experiences. And there’s his current family — he just had a baby and got married not too long ago. As a young gay man, growing up in the Midwest, he had to overcome some challenges, and I think those challenges both forged him in high school as a brave person who could stand up and take on a room as a public speaker, but also shaped his optimistic view of the world. Because, on that issue, I paint the scene of his wedding: That’s an unimaginable thing from the early ‘90s, or from the ‘80s when he was born. He’s watched society develop and progress in very tangible ways, and I do think that that has helped solidify his faith in progress. Something that I’ve found writing about AI is that the different visions being presented by people in the field can be so diametrically opposed. You have these wildly utopian visions, but also these warnings that AI could end the world. It gets so hyperbolic that it feels like people are not living in the same reality. Was that a challenge for you in writing the book? Well, I see those two visions — which feel very far apart — actually being part of the same vision, which is that AI is super important, and it’s going to completely transform everything. No one ever talks about the true opposite of that, which is, “Maybe this is going to be a cool enterprise tool, another way to waste time on the internet, and not quite change everything as much as everyone thinks.” So I see the doomers and the boomers feeding off each other and being part of the same sort of hype universe. As a journalist and as a biographer, you don’t necessarily come down on one side or the other — but actually, can you say where you come down on that? Well, I will say that I find myself using it a lot more recently, because it’s gotten a lot better. In the early stages, when I was researching the book, I was definitely a lot more skeptical of its transformative economic power. I’m less skeptical now, because I just use it a lot more.

Pope-Leighey House | © Peter Thomas via Unsplash Constructed in 1940, the Pope-Leighey House represents Frank Lloyd Wright’s Usonian vision, his architectural response to the social, economic, and aesthetic conditions of mid-20th-century America. Designed for middle-class clients, the Usonian houses were intended to democratize quality design, providing spatial dignity at an affordable cost. In stark contrast to the mass-produced suburban housing of the post-Depression era, Wright sought to design individualized homes rooted in site, economy, and human scale. Pope-Leighey House Technical Information Architects1-6: Frank Lloyd Wright Original Location: Falls Church, Virginia, USA Current Location: Woodlawn Plantation, Alexandria, Virginia, USA Gross Area: 111.5 m2 | 1,200 Sq. Ft. Project Years: 1939 – 1940 Relocation: 1964 (due to the construction of Interstate 66) Photographs: © Photographer The house of moderate cost is not only America’s major architectural problem but the problem most difficult for her major architects. I would rather solve it with satisfaction to myself and Usonia than anything I can think of. – Frank Lloyd Wright 7 Pope-Leighey House Photographs © Lincoln Barbour © Peter Thomas via Unsplash © Peter Thomas via Unsplash © Lincoln Barbour © Lincoln Barbour © Peter Thomas via Unsplash © Peter Thomas via Unsplash © Peter Thomas via Unsplash Contextual Framework and Commissioning The house, commissioned by journalist Loren Pope, was initially situated in Falls Church, Virginia, on a wooded lot chosen to amplify Wright’s principles of organic architecture. Working within a modest budget, Pope approached Wright after reading his critique of conventional American housing. Wright accepted the commission and delivered a design reflecting his social idealism and formal ingenuity. In 1964, the house was relocated to the grounds of the Woodlawn Plantation in Alexandria, Virginia, due to the construction of Interstate 66. While disrupting the original site specificity, this preservation affirms the cultural value placed on the work and raises enduring questions about the transposability of architecture designed for a particular place. Design Principles and Architectural Language The Pope-Leighey House distills the essential characteristics of Wright’s Usonian ideology. Modest in scale, the 1,200-square-foot house is arranged in an L-shaped plan, responding to programmatic needs and solar orientation. The linearity of the bedroom wing intersects perpendicularly with the open-plan living space, forming a sheltered outdoor terrace that extends the perceived interior volume into the landscape. Wright’s orchestration of spatial experience is central to the house’s architectural impact. The low-ceilinged entrance compresses space, setting up a dynamic release into the double-height living area, an architectural maneuver reminiscent of his earlier Prairie houses. Here, horizontality is emphasized in elevation and experience, reinforced by continuous bands of clerestory windows and built-in furnishings that draw the eye laterally across space. Materially, the house embodies a deliberate economy. Red tidewater cypress, brick, and concrete are left exposed, articulating their structural and tectonic roles without ornament. The poured concrete floor contains radiant heating, a functional and experiential feature that foregrounds the integration of structure, comfort, and environmental control. Window mullions extend into perforated wooden panels, demonstrating Wright’s inclination to merge architecture and craft, blurring the line between enclosure and furnishing. Structural Rationality and Construction Methodology A defining feature of the Usonian series, particularly the Pope-Leighey House, is the modular planning system. Based on a two-foot grid, the plan promotes construction efficiency while enabling spatial flexibility. This systemic logic underpins the entire design, from wall placements to window dimensions, allowing the house to feel simultaneously rigorous and organic. Construction strategies were purposefully stripped of excess. The flat roof, cantilevered overhangs, and minimal interior partitions reflect an architecture of subtraction. Without a basement or attic, the house resists hierarchy in its vertical organization. Walls are built with simple sandwich panel techniques, and furniture is integrated into the architecture, reducing material use and creating visual unity. Despite the constraints, the house achieves a high level of tectonic expression. The integration of structure and detail is particularly evident in the living room’s perforated wood screens, which serve as decorative elements, light diffusers, and spatial dividers. These craft elements reinforce the Gesamtkunstwerk ambition in Wright’s residential works: a house as a total, synthesized environment. Legacy and Architectural Significance Today, the Pope-Leighey House is a critical touchstone in Wright’s late-career trajectory. It encapsulates a radical yet modest vision, architecture not as monumentality but as a refined environment for everyday life. Preserved by the National Trust for Historic Preservation, the house continues to serve as a pedagogical model, offering insights into material stewardship, compact living, and formal economy. In architectural discourse, Wright’s larger commissions often overshadow the Usonian homes. Yet the Pope-Leighey House demands recognition for what it accomplishes within limitations. It is a project that questions conventional paradigms of domestic space and asserts that thoughtful design is not a luxury reserved for the elite but a right that can and should be extended to all. The house’s quiet radicalism remains relevant in today’s discussions of affordable housing, sustainable design, and spatial minimalism. Its influence is evident in contemporary explorations of prefab architecture, passive environmental systems, and spatial efficiency, fields that continue to grapple with the same questions Wright addressed eight decades ago. Pope-Leighey House Plans Floor Plan | © Frank Lloyd Wright Section | © Frank Lloyd Wright East Elevation | © Frank Lloyd Wright North Elevation | © Frank Lloyd Wright West Elevation | © Frank Lloyd Wright Pope-Leighey House Image Gallery About Frank Lloyd Wright Frank Lloyd Wright (1867–1959) was an American architect widely regarded as one of the most influential figures in modern architecture. Known for developing the philosophy of organic architecture, he sought harmony between human habitation and the natural world through forms, materials, and spatial compositions that responded to context. His prolific career includes iconic works such as Fallingwater, the Guggenheim Museum, and the Usonian houses, redefined residential architecture in the 20th century. Credits and Additional Notes Original Client: Loren Pope Architectural Style: Usonian Structure: Wood frame on a concrete slab with radiant heating Materials: Tidewater cypress, brick, concrete, glass Design Team: Frank Lloyd Wright and Taliesin Fellowship apprentices Preservation: Owned and maintained by the National Trust for Historic Preservation

Got a project that’s too wild for this world? Submit your conceptual works, images and ideas for global recognition and print publication in the 2025 Vision Awards, June 6th marks the end of the Main Entry period — click here to submit your work. The word “ideal” carries a subtle yet powerful trap, particularly in the context of city-making. Detached from the practicalities of construction, many architects throughout history have assumed a godlike role, crafting visionary urban proposals prioritizing perfection over feasibility. These so-called architectural utopias were often driven by the desire to radically improve how societies function, adopting the belief that reshaping physical environments could lead to social transformation. Yet, the allure of the ideal can be double-edged, often leading to designs that, albeit “perfect,” have repeatedly resulted in unintended consequences such as social exclusion, control, and isolation rather than the promised harmony. During the 20th century, a big surge of visionary utopias emerged through the practice of architecture. Of course, there were many earlier “iterations” of utopian visions, from drawings of Amaurot (Thomas More’s utopian capital) to the Cenotaph for Sir Isaac Newton by Étienne-Louis Boullée; still, the 20th century marked an astounding era of futuristic designs and technological aspirations. Perhaps the desire to explore more radical built environments and apply the modernism style to an urban scale was the driving force behind this endeavor. And yet, now nearly at the end of the first quarter of the 21st century, architectural utopianism has declined. Have architects abandoned grand ideals in favor of more practical, incremental approaches? Have they stopped dreaming big, or have these utopian models simply failed to live up to their promises? To explore the following questions, let’s first delve into some of the most famous, radical, and—according to some—failed architectural utopian projects. Brasilia Anonymous Unknown author, Brasilia aerea torredetv1304 4713, CC BY 3.0 Brasilia was designed by urbanist Lucio Costa and is filled with some of the most beautiful, sculptural and symbolic buildings by Oscar Niemeyer. Costa’s ambition was to create a progressive city that would offer a good quality of life to its residents. Following principles of orderly, rational, and systematic design, the city was conceived in four scales: the Monumental, meaning the long axes; the Gregarious, meaning the civic architecture; the Quotidian, for the residential areas; and the Bucolic, for the open space. In theory, the proposal signified an era of profound transformation. However, numerous problems arose when construction began: work camps (in the form of slumps) cropped around the city, and a massive segregation between upper and lower class occurred. Additionally, the design failed to account for pedestrian accessibility (relying heavily on cars) or consider the effects of land and urban economics. Albeit beautiful and impressive, transportation issues, urban sprawl and inequality are very real challenges modern-day Brasilia has to address, hence the label of “a cautionary tale for urban dreamers.” Radiant City Chandigarh, The theatre sector 17 by Richard Weil , via Flickr  Perhaps the most radical suggestion for the “implementation” of Radiant City was Le Corbusier’s idea to demolish historic parts of Paris. He envisioned a city organized in perfect symmetry, influenced by the parts of the human body and how they operate together efficiently. Famously, he viewed the city as a living organism — a machine for effective inhabitation. Vertical concrete towers arranged in a symmetrical grid, combined with large open spaces fit for public transportation, would offer social housing and accessibility. A business district would connect to the residential and commercial zones at the center via underground passages. Even though Radiant City was never implemented, it inspired the urban plan for Chandigarh in India, drawn by Le Corbusier in the 1950s. Still, despite its ambitious design, the city (according to some critics) “lacked Indianness.” At the same time, it very quickly outgrew its capacity, with the prominent green strip that surrounded it becoming occupied by scruffy homes and shops. Broadacre City Kjell Olsen, Wright Sketches for Broadacre City, CC BY-SA 2.0 Broadacre City was essentially Frank Lloyd Wright’s vision of an architectural and urban democratic city. Placing the individual at the center of design, the proposal ensured each inhabitant a home, a farm and a place of employment. In parallel, utilities of everyday necessity such as power, transportation, and mediums of exchange were publicly owned. Although the city was much more chaotic than the previous two examples, it was based on a genuinely democratic society where the government was strictly impersonal. Following such a free-thinking and complex design, Broadacre City was never realized. However, it fueled many of Wright’s architectural community projects and provided a framework for American city planning processes. Ideal Cities, Flawed Realities Bibliothèque Mazarine, Thomas More Utopia 1516 VTOPIAE INSVLAE FIGVRA (Bibliothèque Mazarine) Skull Version, CC BY-SA 4.0 Today, the spirit of architectural utopianism seems to linger more as a cautionary tale than a guiding light. In an era increasingly defined by economic constraints, climate urgency, and social complexity, the focus has shifted toward feasibility, resilience, and incremental change. The profession often celebrates what can be built rather than what dares to imagine, leaving many visionary, unbuilt projects overlooked or dismissed as impractical. Consequently, holistic and speculative thinking has taken a backseat to metrics, deliverables, and regulatory compliance. While this pragmatism addresses real-world constraints, it raises a pressing question: have we lost something vital by retreating from the imaginative realm? The challenge for today’s architects is not simply to dream or to build, but to reclaim the space in between, where visionary thinking can coexist with grounded execution. Got a project that’s too wild for this world? Submit your conceptual works, images and ideas for global recognition and print publication in the 2025 Vision Awards, June 6th marks the end of the Main Entry period — click here to submit your work. Featured image: Utopia by Peter Wheatcroft / 10 Design, 2023 Vision Awards, Special Mention The post The Death of 20th Century Idealism: Are Today’s Architects Too Pragmatic? appeared first on Journal.

Five years ago, launching a tech conference during a global lockdown might’ve seemed delusional. Dr. Lu Gang calls it “stupid enough,” but the result, BEYOND Expo, is anything but. Against a backdrop of shuttered borders and empty exhibition halls, Lu didn’t just push ahead; he built a stage for Asia’s technological identity to finally perform, not as a supporting act, but as the main event. BEYOND wasn’t born out of convenience. It was a counter-punch to a persistent imbalance. Asia, rich with innovation in robotics, AI, mobility, and biotech, lacked a unifying platform. USA had CES and SXSW. Europe had Slush and IFA. Asia? Fragmented, regionally siloed, and globally underrepresented. Lu saw this gap firsthand – founders with world-class ideas were treated as footnotes at global expos, buried among exhibitors, their stories lost in translation, both literally and figuratively. He chose Macau. Not because it was a tech hub, but because it wasn’t. Culturally and linguistically neutral ground. Grand hotels. Efficient infrastructure. A place you could sell as Asia’s Vegas. And for Lu, it was more than geographic convenience. It was symbolism. A clean slate for a clean break from foreign legacy formats that never really fit Asia’s voice anyway. When we sat down with him, Lu was unfiltered, casually peeling back the layers of his vision like someone who’s spent years explaining why it matters and still hasn’t run out of reasons. “There’s no platform that reorganizes Asian innovation for a global audience,” he said. “You go to CES or Web Summit and the most exciting founders from Asia are just… missing. They’re in the crowd, not on stage.” The ambition isn’t subtle. BEYOND wants to be where the next big thing isn’t just shown off – it’s unveiled, discussed, and celebrated. A place where Plaud, a rising hardware startup with AI chops, gets more than a 3×3 booth on a back wall. “He’s a superstar,” Lu said of the founder. “But if he went to CES, he’d just be another exhibitor.” There’s a wild idealism to it all, but it’s grounded in grit. Building a cross-border tech expo in Asia means navigating linguistic hurdles, cultural nuance, and vastly different industrial priorities. Korea, Japan, China, and Southeast Asia don’t naturally sync. Getting them to share a stage, let alone a conversation, takes more than ambition. It takes trust. And Lu has been earning it by showing up consistently for 5 years – and arguably the toughest 5 years in recent history. BEYOND isn’t just a parade of booths. It’s become known for its parties, its loosened-tie vibe, the mingling of founders and media poolside after panels. Lu laughs about it, but there’s strategy here. “People come for the day show,” he said, “but they stay for the experience. The real conversations happen after hours.” In its fifth year, BEYOND is growing up fast. International media are taking notice. More exhibitors are treating it as their product launch platform. There’s momentum, and Lu knows what to do with it. He wants BEYOND to become the destination in Asia where new tech gets unveiled first. Think CES, but in a region where hardware is king and software isn’t the only storyline. The cultural shift is overdue. Silicon Valley has long dictated the pulse of tech, but the future? It’s being prototyped in Shenzhen, Seoul, Tokyo. Asia’s startup scenes aren’t just growing, they’re diverging, forming identities shaped by local needs and global reach. BEYOND is trying to harness that chaos, give it choreography, and let the rest of the world watch. He’s already fielding interest from Brazil, Japan, the UAE. Each wants their own BEYOND. Not to copy, but to collaborate. It’s flattering. Overwhelming too. “We’re still a small team,” Lu said. “But we’re thinking about it.” There’s no rush. Scale too fast and you lose the soul. But the demand is telling: the world doesn’t want another CES. It wants a fresh script.The post Asia’s Tech Renaissance: Our Interview with Dr. Lu Gang on BEYOND Expo’s Global Ambition first appeared on Yanko Design.

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 came out of nowhere. Yes, it made waves at Microsoft’s Xbox showcase last summer. And true, it continued to look exceptional as it revealed its star-studded cast. But I don’t know that anyone expected it to get quite so much love as it has, and not just from diehard RPG fans. It’s currently the highest-rated game of 2025 on Metacritic and a possible frontrunner for Game of the Year at the Game Awards. No one could have predicted this. Except someone did: the director of Baldur’s Gate 3. Suggested ReadingBaldur's Gate 3 Narrator Reads Your Down-Bad Tweets Share SubtitlesOffEnglishview videoSuggested ReadingBaldur's Gate 3 Narrator Reads Your Down-Bad Tweets Share SubtitlesOffEnglishOnly a few months back at The Game Awards 2024, Larian Studios CEO Swen Vincke took the stage to announce that year’s GOTY winner—Astro Bot—but also to offer his prediction for who would win the best game of 2025 and every year after that as well. “How do I know this? Well, an oracle told me,” he joked. TheBG3, which swept most awards shows the year prior, laid out what would be the defining qualities of future winners as an allegory for what he hoped more studios and companies would strive for in the years ahead. “The oracle told me that the Game of the Year 2025 is going to be made by a studio who found the formula to make it up here on stage,” Vincke said. “It’s stupidly simple, but somehow it keeps on getting lost. A studio makes a game because they want to make a game they want to play themselves. They created it because it hadn’t been created before. They didn’t make it to increase market share. They didn’t make it to serve the brand. They didn’t have to meet arbitrary sales targets, or fear being laid off if they didn’t meet those targets.”He continued,They were driven by idealism, and wanted players to have fun, and they realized that if the developers don’t have fun, nobody was going to have any fun. They understood the value of respect, that if they treated their developers and players well, the same developers and players would forgive them when things didn’t go as planned. But above all they cared about their games, because they love games. It’s really that simple. The speech’s relevance to the circumstances surrounding Sandfall Interactive and its debut game hasn’t gone unnoticed among Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 fans as the developers have talked about their passion for the genre and the classics that inspired them. At a time when turn-based RPGs are considered more niche, Expedition 33 doesn’t shy away from throwback features like a world map and separate battle screens, all in service of a story that’s not afraid to leave players fumbling for answers. The connection to Vincke’s speech recently blew up on the game’s subreddit. “It’s not that Expedition 33 is a perfect game,” wrote one fan. “If you look for flaws or things that other games have that E33 doesn’t, you’ll find a few things. But still, the game has passion at its every corner and that’s what really sticks with us in the end. The flaws are so easy to ignore because the things that really matter are perfect.”In a video game industry struggling to please players and hit sales targets amid swelling budgets, increased competition, and stagnating creativity, Expedition 33 has been turned into something of a golden child: a small team utilizing off-the-shelf tech and extensive outsourcing to bring a good idea to fruition without breaking the bank or succumbing to feature bloat. The efficacy of that roadmap for other developers is debatable, but the results so far speak for themselves. Following Vincke’s advice might not guarantee success, but not doing so increasingly seems to assure mediocrity..