Barbara Betlejewska is a PR consultant and manager with extensive experience in architecture and real estate, currently involved with World Visualization Festival, a global event bringing together CGI and digital storytelling professionals for 3 days of presentations, workshops, and networking in Warsaw, Poland, this October. Over the last twenty years, visualization and 3D rendering have evolved from supporting tools to become central pillars of architectural storytelling, design development, and marketing across various industries. As digital technologies have advanced, the landscape of creative work has changed dramatically. Artists can now collaborate with clients worldwide without leaving their homes, and their careers can flourish without ever setting foot in a traditional studio. In this hyper-connected world, where access to knowledge, clients, and inspiration is just a click away, do we still need to gather in person? Do conferences, festivals and meetups in the CGI and architectural visualization world still carry weight? The People Behind the Pixels Professionals from the visualization industry exchanging ideas at WVF 2024. For a growing number of professionals — especially those in creative and tech-driven fields — remote work has become the norm. The shift to digital workflows, accelerated by the pandemic, has brought freedom and flexibility that many are reluctant to give up. It’s easier than ever to work for clients in distant cities or countries, to build a freelance career from a laptop, or to pursue the lifestyle of a digital nomad. On the surface, it is a broadening of horizons. But for many, the freedom of remote work comes with a cost: isolation. For visualization artists, the reality often means spending long hours alone, rarely interacting face-to-face with peers or collaborators. And while there are undeniable advantages to independent work, the lack of human connection can lead to creative stagnation, professional burnout, and a sense of detachment from the industry as a whole. Despite being a highly technical and often solitary craft, visualization and CGI thrive on the exchange of ideas, feedback and inspiration. The tools and techniques evolve rapidly, and staying relevant usually means learning not just from tutorials but from honest conversations with others who understand the nuances of the field. A Community in the Making Professionals from the visualization industry exchanging ideas at WVF 2024. That need for connection is what pushed Michał Nowak, a Polish visualizer and founder of Nowak Studio, to organize Poland’s first-ever architectural visualization meetup in 2017. With no background in event planning, he wasn’t sure where to begin, but he knew something was missing. The Polish Arch Viz scene lacked a shared space for meetings, discussions, and idea exchange. Michał wanted more than screen time; he wanted honest conversations, spontaneous collaboration and a chance to grow alongside others in the field. What began as a modest gathering quickly grew into something much bigger. That original meetup evolved into what is now the World Visualization Festival (WVF), an international event that welcomes artists from across Europe and beyond. “I didn’t expect our small gathering to grow into a global festival,” Michał says. “But I knew I wanted a connection. I believed that through sharing ideas and experiences, we could all grow professionally, creatively, and personally. And that we’d enjoy the journey more.” The response was overwhelming. Each year, more artists from across Poland and Europe join the event in Wrocław, located in south-western Poland. Michał also traveled to other festivals in countries like Portugal and Austria, where he observed the same thing: a spirit of openness, generosity, and shared curiosity. No matter the country or the maturity of the market, the needs were the same — people wanted to connect, learn and grow. And beyond the professional side, there was something else: joy. These events were simply fun. They were energizing. They gave people a reason to step away from their desks and remember why they love what they do. The Professional Benefits Hands-on learning at the AI-driven visualization workshop in Warsaw, October 2024. The professional benefits of attending industry events are well documented. These gatherings provide access to mentorship, collaboration and knowledge that can be challenging to find online. Festivals and industry meetups serve as platforms for emerging trends, new tools and fresh workflows — often before they hit the mainstream. They’re places where ideas collide, assumptions are challenged and growth happens. The range of topics covered at such events is broad, encompassing everything from portfolio reviews and in-depth discussions of particular rendering engines to discussions about pricing your work and building a sustainable business. At the 2024 edition of the World Visualization Festival, panels focused on scaling creative businesses and navigating industry rates drew some of the biggest crowds, proving that artists are hungry for both artistic and entrepreneurial insights. Being part of a creative community also shapes professional identity. It’s not just about finding clients — it’s about finding your place. In a field as fast-moving and competitive as Arch Viz, connection and conversation aren’t luxuries. They’re tools for survival. There’s also the matter of building your social capital. Online interactions can only go so far. Meeting someone in person builds relationships that stick. The coffee-break conversations, the spontaneous feedback — these are the moments that cement a community and have the power to spark future projects or long-lasting partnerships. This usually doesn’t happen in Zoom calls. And let’s not forget the symbolic power of events like industry awards, such as the Architizer’s Vision Awards or CGArchitect’s 3D Awards. These aren’t just celebrations of talent; they’re affirmations of the craft itself. They contribute to the growth and cohesion of the industry while helping to establish and promote best practices. These events clearly define the role and significance of CGI and visualization as a distinct profession, positioned at the intersection of architecture, marketing, and sales. They advocate for the field to be recognized on its own terms, not merely as a support service, but as an independent discipline. For its creators, they bring visibility, credit, and recognition — elements that inspire growth and fuel motivation to keep pushing the craft forward. Occasions like these remind us that what we do has actual value, impact and meaning. The Energy We Take Home The WVF 2024 afterparty provided a vibrant space for networking and celebration in Warsaw. Many artists describe the post-event glow: a renewed sense of purpose, a fresh jolt of energy, an eagerness to get back to work. Sometimes, new projects emerge, new clients appear, or long-dormant ideas finally gain momentum. These events aren’t just about learning — they’re about recharging. One of the most potent moments of last year’s WVF was a series of talks focused on mental health and creative well-being. Co-organized by Michał Nowak and the Polish Arch Viz studio ELEMENT, the festival addressed the emotional realities of the profession, including burnout, self-doubt, and the pressure to constantly produce. These conversations resonated deeply because they were real. Seeing that others face the same struggles — and come through them — is profoundly reassuring. Listening to someone share a business strategy that worked, or a failure they learned from, turns competition into camaraderie. Vulnerability becomes strength. Shared experiences become the foundation of resilience. Make a Statement. Show up! Top industry leaders shared insights during presentations at WVF 2024 In an era when nearly everything can be done online, showing up in person is a powerful statement. It says: I want more than just efficiency. I want connection, creativity and conversation. As the CGI and visualization industries continue to evolve, the need for human connection hasn’t disappeared — it’s grown stronger. Conferences, festivals and meetups, such as World Viz Fest, remain vital spaces for knowledge sharing, innovation and community building. They give us a chance to reset, reconnect and remember that we are part of something bigger than our screens. So, yes, despite the tools, the bandwidth, and the ever-faster workflows, we still need to meet in person. Not out of nostalgia, but out of necessity. Because, no matter how far technology takes us, creativity remains a human endeavor. Architizer’s Vision Awards are back! The global awards program honors the world’s best architectural concepts, ideas and imagery. Start your entry ahead of the Final Entry Deadline on July 11th.  The post Building an Architectural Visualization Community: The Case for Physical Gatherings appeared first on Journal.

There’s a Sphere-alike in Redrock, MindsEye’s open-world version of Las Vegas. It’s pretty much a straight copy of the original: a huge soap bubble, half sunk into the desert floor, with its surface turned into a gigantic TV. Occasionally you’ll pull up near the Sphere while driving an electric vehicle made by Silva, the megacorp that controls this world. You’ll sometimes come to a stop just as an advert for an identical Silva EV plays out on the huge curved screen overhead. The doubling effect can be slightly vertigo-inducing.At these moments, I truly get what MindsEye is trying to do. You’re stuck in the ultimate company town, where oligarchs and other crooks run everything, and there’s no hope of escaping the ecosystem they’ve built. MindsEye gets this all across through a chance encounter, and in a way that’s both light of touch and clever. The rest of the game tends towards the heavy-handed and silly, but it’s nice to glimpse a few instances where everything clicks.With its Spheres and omnipresent EVs, MindsEye looks and sounds like the future. It’s concerned with AI and tech bros and the insidious creep of a corporate dystopia. You play as an amnesiac former-soldier who must work out the precise damage that technology has done to his humanity, while shooting people and robots and drones. And alongside the campaign itself, MindsEye also has a suite of tools for making your own game or levels and publishing them for fellow players. All of this has come from a studio founded by Leslie Benzies, whose production credits include the likes of GTA 5.AI overlords … MindsEye. Photograph: IOI PartnersWhat’s weird, then, is that MindsEye generally plays like the past. Put a finger to the air and the wind is blowing from somewhere around 2012. At heart, this is a roughly hewn cover shooter with an open world that you only really experience when you’re driving between missions. Its topical concerns mainly exist to justify double-crosses and car chases and shootouts, and to explain why you head into battle with a personal drone that can open doors for you and stun nearby enemies.It can be an uncanny experience, drifting back through the years to a time when many third-person games still featured unskippable cut-scenes and cover that could be awkward to unstick yourself from. I should add that there are plenty of reports at the moment of crashes and technical glitches and characters turning up without their faces in place. Playing on a relatively old PC, aside from one crash and a few amusing bugs, I’ve been mostly fine. I’ve just been playing a game that feels equally elderly.This is sometimes less of a criticism than it sounds. There is a definite pleasure to be had in simple run-and-gun missions where you shoot very similar looking people over and over again and pick a path between waypoints. The shooting often feels good, and while it’s a bit of a swizz to have to drive to and from each mission, the cars have a nice fishtaily looseness to them that can, at times, invoke the Valium-tinged glory of the Driver games. (The airborne craft are less fun because they have less character.)Driving between missions … MindsEye. Photograph: Build A Rocket Boy/IOI PartnersAnd for a game that has thought a lot about the point at which AI takes over, the in-game AI around me wasn’t in danger of taking over anything. When I handed over control of my car to the game while tailing an enemy, having been told I should try not to be spotted, the game made sure our bumpers kissed at every intersection. The streets of this particular open world are filled with amusingly unskilled AI drivers. I’d frequently arrive at traffic lights to be greeted by a recent pile-up, so delighted by the off-screen collisions that had scattered road cones and Dumpsters across my path that I almost always stopped to investigate.I even enjoyed the plot’s hokeyness, which features lines such as: “Your DNA has been altered since we last met!” Has it, though? Even so, I became increasingly aware that clever people had spent a good chunk of their working lives making this game. I don’t think they intended to cast me as what is in essence a Deliveroo bullet courier for an off-brand Elon Musk. Or to drop me into an open world that feels thin not because it lacks mission icons and fishing mini-games, but because it’s devoid of convincing human detail.I suspect the problem may actually be a thematically resonant one: a reckless kind of ambition. When I dropped into the level editor I found a tool that’s astonishingly rich and complex, but which also requires a lot of time and effort if you want to make anything really special in it. This is for the mega-fans, surely, the point-one percent. It must have taken serious time to build, and to do all that alongside a campaign (one that tries, at least, to vary things now and then with stealth, trailing and sniper sections) is the kind of endeavour that requires a real megacorp behind it.MindsEye is an oddity. For all its failings, I rarely disliked playing it, and yet it’s also difficult to sincerely recommend. Its ideas, its moment-to-moment action and narrative are so thinly conceived that it barely exists. And yet: I’m kind of happy that it does. MindsEye is out now; £54.99

As President Donald Trump kicked off a birthday military parade on the streets of Washington, DC, what’s estimated as roughly 2,000 events were held across the US and beyond — protesting Trump and Elon Musk’s evisceration of government services, an unprecedented crackdown by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), and countless other actions from the administration in its first five months. Held under the title “No Kings” (with, as you’ll see, one conspicuous exception), they’re the latest in several mass protests, following April’s Hands Off events and a wave of Tesla Takedown demonstrations in March.As The Verge’s Tina Nguyen went to downtown DC, we also sent reporters to No Kings demonstrations spanning the country, plus a “No Tyrants” event in the UK. How would they unfold after promises of “very heavy force” against protesters in the capital, after the deployment of thousands of military troops in a move a judge has bluntly called illegal, and after promises to “liberate” the city of Los Angeles from its “burdensome leadership” by local elected officials? What about the overnight killing of a Minnesota Democratic state representative and her husband, and the shooting of a Democratic state senator and his wife?The answer, at the events we attended, was fairly calmly — even against a backdrop of chaos.Downtown Los Angeles, CaliforniaAn inflatable baby Donald Trump, dressed in a diaper, hovered over throngs of people rallying outside of Los Angeles City Hall. Demonstrators outnumbered clumps of California National Guard members in fatigues posted up along sidewalks. “Go home to your families, we don’t need you in our streets,” one young person wearing a long braid down her back tells them while marching past. “Trump come catch these hands foo!” the back of her sign reads. I can’t see what the front says, but I can tell there’s an empty bag of Cheetos pasted to it.The big baby joins the march, floating through the streets of Downtown LA over demonstrators. A flatbed truck rolls ahead of it, the band — maybe LA’s own Ozomatli? — singing “We don’t like Trump” to the tune of “We Want The Funk.” Ducking inside Grand Central Market from the march, I talk to Puck and Twinkle Toes — two demonstrators in line for the public restrooms. Twinkle Toes tells me she’s part of an activist clown collective called Imp and Circumstance, wearing pink and white clown makeup and a striped pink and white bow wrapped around a loose hair bun atop her head. She’s here exercising her right to free speech, she says. Demonstrators in Los Angeles marched alongside an inflatable Donald Trump baby dressed in a diaper.“The more people that are out here, the more we know that this is not okay. That we don’t want an autocrat. We want democracy,” Puck tells me, adding that the Pride March in Hollywood last weekend was “nothing but love and sunshine” despite protests and burning driverless cars making headlines in downtown. “The news tries to make you think all of LA is rioting. It’s not.” Puck says.Back out on the streets, a young man quickly writes “Fuck ICE” on a black wall with white spray paint before a group of older demonstrators wearing floppy hats shushes him away — warning him that tagging will only attract more law enforcement.Further along, another older man with tufts of white hair sticking out under his Lakers cap walks stiffly and slowly along under the summer sun. A Mexican flag draped across his shoulders, he crosses Hope Street. A young man wearing a Nike cap makes his way over to ask if he wants water; the old man accepts a bottle and keeps walking without stopping. The march has looped around downtown, and is coming to an end back at City Hall. As I make my way to my bus stop, a line of police vehicles — sirens blasting — whizzes past me, back toward the crowd still gathering around City Hall.The Los Angeles Police Department issued a dispersal order for parts of downtown Los Angeles later in the afternoon, citing people “throwing rocks, bricks, bottles and other objects.” Law enforcement reportedly cleared crowds using gas, and the LAPD authorized the use of “less lethal” force.— Justine CalmaPortland, OregonFour different “No Kings” protests in the greater Portland area on Saturday drew massive crowds of tens of thousands across the city. Various activists, government officials, and representatives for politicians spoke at the rallies, which also featured music and live performances. (One advertised free drag shows.) Protesters of all ages came with dogs, strollers, flags, banners, and hand-made signs. At the downtown waterfront, some tourist boats appeared to still be departing, but the bike rental stand (which also sells ice cream) was closed for the day with a hand-lettered explanation reading “No crowns, no thrones, no kings” and “Americans against oligarchy.” Women appearing to be organizers passed out free American flags; many attendees came with their own American flags modified to fly upside down. Most protesters brought signs expressing a wide range of sentiments on the theme of “No Kings.” Some signs were surprisingly verbose (“If the founders wanted a unitary executive (a king) we’d all still be British”) while others were more succinct (“Sic semper tyrannis”). Others opted for simple images, such as a picture of a crown crossed out, or — less frequently — a guillotine. Image: Sarah JeongThe waterfront park area was filled with people from the shoreline to the curb of the nearest street, where protesters held up signs to passing cars that honked in approval. The honking of a passing fire truck sent the crowd into an uproarious cheer. Portland is about a thousand miles from the border with Mexico, but the flag of its distant neighbor nation has emerged as protest iconography in solidarity with Los Angeles. The rainbow pride flag was flown as often as the Mexican flag. Military veterans were scattered throughout the crowd, some identifying themselves as having seen action in conflicts spanning from Vietnam to Afghanistan. Emanuel, an Air Force veteran, told me that he had turned out in defense of the constitution and due process, saying, “Nobody has any rights if one person doesn’t have any rights.” Image: Sarah JeongAnger was directed at ICE and the mass deportations all throughout the day, in signage, in chants, and in rally speeches. The previous night, about 150 people protested at a local ICE facility — coincidentally located by the Tesla dealership — a mile south of downtown, near a highway exit. The ICE facility protests, which have been continuous for some days, have been steadily building up. A couple of “No Kings” signs were present on Friday. (The following day, a handful of “Chinga la migra” signs would show up at the “No Kings” protests). Demonstrators stood on the curb urging passing cars to “Honk if you hate fascists,” successfully eliciting car horns every few seconds, including some from a pristine white Tesla. Federal law enforcement in camo and helmets, their faces obscured, maced and shot at protesters with pepper balls, targeting them through the gates and sniping at them from the rooftop of the building. A handful of protesters — many wearing gas masks and respirators — formed phalanx formations in the driveway, wielding umbrellas and handmade shields. On Saturday, a speaker at one of the “No Kings” rallies advertised the occupation of the ICE facility, saying, “We’re a sanctuary city.” The crowd — replete with American flags both upside down and right side up — cheered. — Sarah JeongNew Port Richey, FloridaNearly every intersection on Pasco County’s State Road 54 looks the same: a cross-section of strip malls, each anchored by a Walmart or Target or Publix, surrounded by a mix of restaurants, nail salons, and gas stations. It’s not an environment that is particularly conducive to protests, but hundreds of people turned out in humid, 90-plus degree weather anyway. The overall size of the crowd is hard to determine, but it’s larger than I — and other attendees — anticipated, given the local demographics. (Trump won 61 percent of the vote in Pasco County in 2024.) New Port Richey, FL. Image: Gaby Del ValleEveryone is on the sidewalk; an organizer with a megaphone tells people to use crosswalks if they’re going to attempt to brave the six-lane highway. Two days earlier, Governor Ron DeSantis said Floridians could legally run over protesters on the street if they feel “threatened.” New Port Richey, FL. Image: Gaby Del ValleSo far, most drivers seem friendly. There are lots of supportive honks. One woman rolls down her window and thanks the protesters. “I love you! I wish I could be with you, but I have to work today!” she yells as she drives away. Not everyone is amenable. A man in a MAGA hat marches through the crowd waving a “thin green line” flag and yelling “long live the king!” as people in the crowd call him a traitor. A pickup truck drives by blasting “Ice Ice Baby,” waving another pro-law enforcement flag. The protesters have flags, too: American flags large and small, some upside down; Mexican; Ukrainian; Palestinian; Canadian; different configurations of pride and trans flags. Their signs, like their flags, illustrate their diverse reasons for attending: opposition to Trump’s “big beautiful” funding bill, DOGE’s budget cuts, and ICE arrests; support for immigrants, government workers, and Palestinians. One woman wears an inflatable chicken suit. Her friend pulls an effigy of Trump — dressed to look both like an eighteenth-century monarch, a taco, and a chicken — alongside her.New Port Richey, FL. Image: Gaby Del ValleMost of the demonstrators are on the older side, but there are people of all ages in attendance. “I thought it was going to be maybe 20 people with a couple of signs,” Abby, 24, says, adding that she’s pleasantly surprised at both the turnout and the fact that most of the protesters are of retirement age. Abe, 20, tells me this is his first protest. Holding a sign that says “ICE = GESTAPO,” he tells me he came out to support a friend who is Mexican. Three teenagers walk by with signs expressing support for immigrants: “While Trump destroys America, we built it.” “Trump: 3 felonies. My parents: 0.” As I drive away, I notice nine counter-protesters off to the side, around the corner from the main event. They wave their own flags, but the demonstrators seemingly pay them no mind.— Gaby Del ValleHistoric Filipinotown, Los AngelesWearing a camo baseball cap — “Desert Storm Veteran” emblazoned on the front — Joe Arciaga greets a crowd of about 100 people in Los Angeles’ Historic Filipinotown around 9:00AM.“Good morning everyone, are you ready for some beautiful trouble?” Arciaga says into the megaphone, an American flag bandana wrapped around his wrist. The faces of Filipino labor leaders Philip Vera Cruz and Larry Itliong, who organized farm workers alongside Cesar Chavez, peer over his shoulders from a mural that lines the length of Unidad Park where Arciaga and a group called Lakas Collective helped organize this neighborhood No Kings rally. “I’m a Desert Storm veteran, and I’m a father of three and a grandfather of three, and I want to work for a future where democracy is upheld, due process, civil rights, the preservation of the rule of law — That’s all I want. I’m not a billionaire, I’m just a regular Joe, right?”, he tells The Verge.Joe Arciaga speaks to people at a rally in Historic Filipinotown, Los Angeles. Image: Justine Calma“I am mad as hell,” he says, when I ask him about the Army 250th anniversary parade Donald Trump has organized in Washington, DC coinciding with the president’s birthday. “The guy does not deserve to be honored, he’s a draft dodger, right?” Arciaga says. He’s “livid” that the President and DOGE have fired veterans working for federal agencies and slashed VA staff.Arciaga organizes the crowd into two lines that file out of the park to stand along Beverly Blvd., one of the main drags through LA. Arciaga has deputized a handful of attendees with security or medical experience with whistles to serve as “marshals” tasked with flagging and de-escalating any potentially risky situation that might arise. Johneric Concordia, one of the co-founders of the popular The Park’s Finest barbecue joint in the neighborhood, is MCing out on Beverly Blvd. He and Arciaga direct people onto the sidewalks and off the asphalt as honking cars zip by. In between chants of “No hate! No fear! Immigrants are welcome here!” and rap songs from LA artist Bambu that Concordia plays from a speaker, Concordia hypes up the organizers. “Who’s cool? Joe’s cool?” He spits into the microphone connected to his speaker. “Who’s streets? Our streets!” the crowd cheers. An hour later, a man sitting at a red light in a black Prius rolls down his window. “Go home!” he yells from the intersection. “Take your Mexican flag and go home!”The crowd mostly ignores him. One attendee on the corner holds up his “No Kings” sign to the Prius without turning his head to look at him. A few minutes later, a jogger in a blue t-shirt raises his fist as he passes the crowd. “Fuck yeah guys,” he says to cheers.By 10AM, the neighborhood event is coming to a close. Demonstrators start to trickle away, some fanning out to other rallies planned across LA today. Concordia is heading out too, microphone and speaker still in hand, “If you’re headed to downtown, watch out for suspicious crew cuts!” — Justine CalmaSan Francisco, California1/10Most of the crowd trickled out after 2pm, which was the scheduled end time of the protest, but hundreds stayed in the area. Image: Vjeran PavicLondon, UKLondon’s protest was a little different than most: it was almost entirely bereft of “No Kings” signs, thanks to the fact that about two miles away much larger crowds were gathered to celebrate the official birthday of one King Charles III. “We don’t have anything against King Charles,” Alyssa, a member of organizers Indivisible London, told me. And so, “out of respect for our host country as immigrants,” they instead set up shop in front of the US embassy with a tweaked message: “No kings, no crowns” became “no tyrants, no clowns.” London, UK. Image: Dominic PrestonOf the hundreds gathered, not everyone got the memo, with a few painted signs decrying kings and crowns regardless, and one brave Brit brandishing a bit of cardboard with a simple message: “Our king is better than yours!”London, UK. Image: Dominic PrestonStill, most of the crowd were on board, with red noses, clown suits, and Pennywise masks dotted throughout, plus costumes ranging from tacos to Roman emperors. “I think tyrants is the better word, and that’s why I dressed up as Caesar, because he was the original,” says Anna, a Long Island native who’s lived in London for three years. “Nobody likes a tyrant. Nobody. And they don’t do well, historically, but they destroy a lot.”For 90 minutes or so the crowd — predominantly American, judging by the accents around me — leaned into the circus theme. Speakers shared the stage with performers, from a comic singalong of anti-Trump protest songs to a protracted pantomime in which a woman in a banana costume exhorted the crowd to pelt a Donald Trump impersonator with fresh peels. London, UK. Image: Dominic PrestonDuring a break in festivities, Alyssa told the crowd, “The most threatening sound to an oligarch is laughter.”— Dominic PrestonProspect Park, Brooklyn, New YorkThe No Kings protest at Brooklyn’s Grand Army Plaza was a calmer affair. Instead of gathering under the picturesque memorial arch, protesters were largely sequestered to a corner right outside Prospect Park, with some streets blocked off by police. The weekly farmers market was in full swing, meaning people cradling bundles of rhubarb were swerving in and out of protest signs that read things like, “Hating Donald Trump is Brat” and “Is it time to get out the pitch forks?” Like during the Hands Off protest in April, New York got rain on Saturday.Prospect Park, Brooklyn. Image: Mia SatoThe area where protesters were gathered made it difficult to count the crowd, but there were hundreds — perhaps a few thousand — people that streamed in and out. At one point, some protesters began marching down the street alongside Prospect Park, while others stayed at Grand Army Plaza to chant, cheer, and hold signs up at oncoming vehicles. With its proximity to the public library, the park, and densely populated neighborhoods, the massive intersection is a high-foot traffic area. Cars blared their horns as they passed, American flags waving in the chilly afternoon breeze.Jane, a Brooklyn resident who stood on the curb opposite the protesters, said she isn’t typically someone who comes out to actions like this: before the No Kings event, she had only ever been to one protest, the Women’s March. (Jane asked that The Verge use her first name only.) Prospect Park, Brooklyn. Image: Mia Sato“I’m deeply concerned about our country,” Jane said, pausing as a long stream of trucks and cars honked continuously in support of the protesters in the background. “I think Trump is behaving as an authoritarian. We’ve seen in Russia, in Hungary, in Hong Kong, that the slide from freedom to not freedom is very fast and very quick if people do not make their voices heard,” Jane said. “I’m concerned that that’s what’s happening in the United States.” Jane also cited cuts to Medicaid and funding for academic research as well as tariffs as being “unacceptable.”Prospect Park, Brooklyn. Image: Mia SatoThe event was peaceful — there were lots of kids present — and people were in good spirits despite the rain. Protest signs ran the gamut from general anti-Trump slogans (“I trust light tampons more than this administration”) to New York City-specific causes like “Andrew Cuomo can’t read” (there is a contenious mayoral election this month). One sign read, “Fix your hearts or die,” an iconic line from the late director, David Lynch’s, Twin Peaks: The Return. And of course, amid nationwide immigration raids that have been escalated by the involvement of the federal government, ICE was top of mind: one sign simply read, “Melt ICE,” and another protester held a large “NO ICE IN NYC” sign. Though it was smaller and more contained than other events, the protest didn’t lack conviction: attendees of all ages stood in the cold rain, chanting and blowing into vuvuzela, banging the lids of pots and pans. At one point a man stood on the median on the street, leading the group in chants of “No justice, no peace.” Cars laid on the horn as they drove by.— Mia SatoAkron, OhioIt’s been raining pretty hard the last few days in Akron, OH, so much that I didn’t think there’d be a large turnout for our chapter of the No Kings protest. But I was emphatically proven wrong as the crowds I saw dwarfed the Tesla Takedown protests last month. Officially, the protest was to take place in front of the John F. Seiberling Federal Building on Main Street in Downtown Akron. But the concentration of people spilled over from that small space down Main Street and up Market Street. All told, though there were no official counts, I estimate somewhere between 500 to 900 people in this blue enclave in Northeast Ohio.The mood was exuberant, buoyed by supporters who honked their horns as they passed. The chorus of horns was nonstop, and when a sanitation truck honked as it went by, cheers got louder. The chants the crowds were singing took on a local flare. Ohio is the home of the Ohio State Buckeyes and anywhere you go, shout “O-H” and you’ll invariably get an “I-O” response. The crowds used that convention to make their own chant, “OH-IO, Donald Trump has got to go.”There was no police presence here and the crowd was very good at policing itself. Ostensibly out of concern for the incidents where people have rammed their cars into protestor crowds, the people here have taken up crossing guard duties, aiding folks who wish to cross Main or Market Streets. Toward the end of my time at the protest, I saw an older gentleman wearing Kent State gear and holding a sign that read, “Remember another time the National Guard was called in?” His sign featured a drawing of the famous photo from the event in which four Kent State students during a protest of the Vietnam War were killed by National Guard troops. I caught up with him to ask him some questions and he told me his name was Chuck Ayers, a professional cartoonist, and was present at the shooting. Akron, OH. Image: Ash Parrish“When I saw the National Guard in front of the federal building in LA,” he told me, “It was just another flashback.”He did not tell me this at the time, but Ayers is a nationally recognized cartoonist, noted for co-creating the comic strip Crankshaft. He’s lived in Ohio his entire life and of course, drew that sign himself. As he was telling me about how seeing news of the National Guard being deployed in LA, I could see him strain to hold back his emotions. He said it still hurts to see this 55 years later, but that he was heartened to see so many people standing here in community and solidarity. He also said that given his pain and trauma he almost didn’t come. When I asked why he showed up when it so obviously causes him pain he said simply, “Because I have to.”— Ash ParrishOneonta, New YorkOn a northward drive to Oneonta — population roughly 15,000, the largest city in New York’s mainly rural Otsego County — one of the most prominent landmarks is a sprawling barn splashed in huge, painted block letters with TRUMP 2024. (The final digits have been faithfully updated every election since 2016.) It’s Trump country, but not uniformly Trumpy country, as evidenced by what I estimated as a hundreds-strong crowd gathered in a field just below Main Street that came together with a friendly county-fair atmosphere. Kids sat on their parents’ shoulders; American flags fluttered next to signs with slogans like SHADE NEVER MADE ANYONE LESS GAY, and attendees grumbled persistently about the event’s feeble sound system, set up on the bed of a pickup truck. It was the kind of conspicuously patriotic, far-from-urban protest that the Trump administration has all but insisted doesn’t exist.Image: Adi RobertsonBeyond a general condemnation of Trump, protest signs repped the same issues being denounced across the country. The wars in Gaza and Ukraine made an appearance, as did Elon Musk and Tesla. A couple of people called out funding cuts for organizations like NPR, one neatly lettered sign reminded us that WEATHER FORECASTING SAVES LIVES, another warned “Keep your nasty little hands off Social Security,” and a lot — unsurprisingly, given the past week’s events — attacked mass deportations and ICE. An attendee who identified himself as Bill, standing behind a placard that blocked most of him from sight, laid out his anger at the administration’s gutting of the Environmental Protection Agency. “I think if it was not for protests, there would be no change,” he told me.The event itself, supported by a coalition including the local chapter of Indivisible, highlighted topics like reproductive justice and LGBTQ rights alongside issues for groups often stereotyped as Republican blocs — there was a speech about Department of Veterans Affairs cuts and a representative from the local Office for the Aging (whose words were mostly lost to the sound system’s whims). Rules for a march around the modest downtown were laid out: no blocking pedestrians or vehicles, and for the sake of families doing weekend shopping, watch the language. “Fuck!” one person yelled indistinctly from the audience. “No, no,” the event’s emcee chided gently. The philosophy, as she put it, was one of persuasion. “We want to build the resistance, not make people angry at us.”Image: Adi RobertsonBut even in a place that will almost certainly never see a National Guard deployment or the ire of a Truth Social post, the Trump administration’s brutal deportation program had just hit close to home. Only hours before the protest commenced, ICE agents were recorded handcuffing a man and removing him in an unmarked black car — detaining what was reportedly a legal resident seeking asylum from Venezuela. The mayor of Oneonta, Mark Drnek, relayed the news to the crowd. “ICE! We see you!” boomed Drnek from the truckbed. “We recognize you for what you are, and we understand, and we reject your vile purpose.”The crowd cheered furiously. The stars and stripes waved.- Adi RobertsonSee More: Policy

The Inefficiency of Static Chain-of-Thought Reasoning in LRMs Recent LRMs achieve top performance by using detailed CoT reasoning to solve complex tasks. However, many simple tasks they handle could be solved by smaller models with fewer tokens, making such elaborate reasoning unnecessary. This echoes human thinking, where we use fast, intuitive responses for easy problems and slower, analytical thinking for complex ones. While LRMs mimic slow, logical reasoning, they generate significantly longer outputs, thereby increasing computational cost. Current methods for reducing reasoning steps lack flexibility, limiting models to a single fixed reasoning style. There is a growing need for adaptive reasoning that adjusts effort according to task difficulty.  Limitations of Existing Training-Based and Training-Free Approaches Recent research on improving reasoning efficiency in LRMs can be categorized into two main areas: training-based and training-free methods. Training strategies often use reinforcement learning or fine-tuning to limit token usage or adjust reasoning depth, but they tend to follow fixed patterns without flexibility. Training-free approaches utilize prompt engineering or pattern detection to shorten outputs during inference; however, they also lack adaptability. More recent work focuses on variable-length reasoning, where models adjust reasoning depth based on task complexity. Others study “overthinking,” where models over-reason unnecessarily. However, few methods enable dynamic switching between quick and thorough reasoning—something this paper addresses directly.  Introducing OThink-R1: Dynamic Fast/Slow Reasoning Framework Researchers from Zhejiang University and OPPO have developed OThink-R1, a new approach that enables LRMs to switch between fast and slow thinking smartly, much like humans do. By analyzing reasoning patterns, they identified which steps are essential and which are redundant. With help from another model acting as a judge, they trained LRMs to adapt their reasoning style based on task complexity. Their method reduces unnecessary reasoning by over 23% without losing accuracy. Using a loss function and fine-tuned datasets, OThink-R1 outperforms previous models in both efficiency and performance on various math and question-answering tasks.  System Architecture: Reasoning Pruning and Dual-Reference Optimization The OThink-R1 framework helps LRMs dynamically switch between fast and slow thinking. First, it identifies when LRMs include unnecessary reasoning, like overexplaining or double-checking, versus when detailed steps are truly essential. Using this, it builds a curated training dataset by pruning redundant reasoning and retaining valuable logic. Then, during fine-tuning, a special loss function balances both reasoning styles. This dual-reference loss compares the model’s outputs with both fast and slow thinking variants, encouraging flexibility. As a result, OThink-R1 can adaptively choose the most efficient reasoning path for each problem while preserving accuracy and logical depth.  Empirical Evaluation and Comparative Performance The OThink-R1 model was tested on simpler QA and math tasks to evaluate its ability to switch between fast and slow reasoning. Using datasets like OpenBookQA, CommonsenseQA, ASDIV, and GSM8K, the model demonstrated strong performance, generating fewer tokens while maintaining or improving accuracy. Compared to baselines such as NoThinking and DualFormer, OThink-R1 demonstrated a better balance between efficiency and effectiveness. Ablation studies confirmed the importance of pruning, KL constraints, and LLM-Judge in achieving optimal results. A case study illustrated that unnecessary reasoning can lead to overthinking and reduced accuracy, highlighting OThink-R1’s strength in adaptive reasoning.  Conclusion: Towards Scalable and Efficient Hybrid Reasoning Systems In conclusion, OThink-R1 is a large reasoning model that adaptively switches between fast and slow thinking modes to improve both efficiency and performance. It addresses the issue of unnecessarily complex reasoning in large models by analyzing and classifying reasoning steps as either essential or redundant. By pruning the redundant ones while maintaining logical accuracy, OThink-R1 reduces unnecessary computation. It also introduces a dual-reference KL-divergence loss to strengthen hybrid reasoning. Tested on math and QA tasks, it cuts down reasoning redundancy by 23% without sacrificing accuracy, showing promise for building more adaptive, scalable, and efficient AI reasoning systems in the future.  Check out the Paper and GitHub Page. All credit for this research goes to the researchers of this project. Also, feel free to follow us on Twitter and don’t forget to join our 100k+ ML SubReddit and Subscribe to our Newsletter. Sana HassanSana Hassan, a consulting intern at Marktechpost and dual-degree student at IIT Madras, is passionate about applying technology and AI to address real-world challenges. With a keen interest in solving practical problems, he brings a fresh perspective to the intersection of AI and real-life solutions.Sana Hassanhttps://www.marktechpost.com/author/sana-hassan/Building AI-Powered Applications Using the Plan → Files → Code Workflow in TinyDevSana Hassanhttps://www.marktechpost.com/author/sana-hassan/MemOS: A Memory-Centric Operating System for Evolving and Adaptive Large Language ModelsSana Hassanhttps://www.marktechpost.com/author/sana-hassan/Google AI Unveils a Hybrid AI-Physics Model for Accurate Regional Climate Risk Forecasts with Better Uncertainty AssessmentSana Hassanhttps://www.marktechpost.com/author/sana-hassan/Run Multiple AI Coding Agents in Parallel with Container-Use from Dagger