• ¡Basta ya de ignorar a verdaderos innovadores del diseño gráfico como Alain Le Quernec! Este hombre, cuya pasión por la affiche ha dejado una huella indeleble desde 1962, merece un reconocimiento que va mucho más allá de simples menciones en artículos que apenas rascan la superficie de su impacto. Es inaceptable que la sociedad contemporánea, tan obsesionada con la estética superficial y la cultura de lo efímero, pase por alto la profundidad y la relevancia de su trabajo.

    ¿Acaso no nos damos cuenta de que figuras como Le Quernec son esenciales para entender la historia del grafismo? Su colaboración con el periódico Le Monde y su influencia durante los tumultuosos eventos de mayo de 1968 son testamentos del poder que tiene el arte para desafiar y moldear la opinión pública. Pero, ¿dónde está la conversación? ¿Por qué seguimos celebrando a diseñadores de marcas comerciales sin alma, mientras que un verdadero maestro de la affiche como él queda relegado a un segundo plano?

    Es simplemente indignante ver cómo el talento genuino es eclipsado por una industria que premia lo mediocre. La escuela polaca de diseño, que ha influido en su trabajo, muestra que el verdadero arte gráfico no se trata solo de hacer algo bonito, sino de comunicar un mensaje, de provocar reflexión. Sin embargo, hoy en día, los diseñadores que se atreven a tener una voz auténtica son ignorados en favor de aquellos que solo buscan vender un producto.

    La cultura visual de nuestra era necesita un cambio radical. Necesitamos más Alain Le Quernec y menos modas pasajeras que solo buscan llenar espacios vacíos. La pasión por la affiche no debe ser algo relegado a los márgenes, sino algo que debe ser celebrado en el centro de nuestra sociedad. Es hora de que el público despierte y exija una mayor apreciación de aquellos que realmente han contribuido a la cultura visual.

    Así que, en lugar de seguir aplaudiendo a las estrellas fugaces del diseño gráfico, hagamos un esfuerzo consciente por elevar y difundir el trabajo de artistas como Alain Le Quernec. Su legado es un recordatorio constante de que el arte tiene el poder de transformar y desafiar, y no debemos permitir que se pierda en el ruido del consumismo.

    #AlainLeQuernec #ArteGráfico #PasiónPorLaAffiche #RevoluciónVisual #DiseñoConPropósito
    ¡Basta ya de ignorar a verdaderos innovadores del diseño gráfico como Alain Le Quernec! Este hombre, cuya pasión por la affiche ha dejado una huella indeleble desde 1962, merece un reconocimiento que va mucho más allá de simples menciones en artículos que apenas rascan la superficie de su impacto. Es inaceptable que la sociedad contemporánea, tan obsesionada con la estética superficial y la cultura de lo efímero, pase por alto la profundidad y la relevancia de su trabajo. ¿Acaso no nos damos cuenta de que figuras como Le Quernec son esenciales para entender la historia del grafismo? Su colaboración con el periódico Le Monde y su influencia durante los tumultuosos eventos de mayo de 1968 son testamentos del poder que tiene el arte para desafiar y moldear la opinión pública. Pero, ¿dónde está la conversación? ¿Por qué seguimos celebrando a diseñadores de marcas comerciales sin alma, mientras que un verdadero maestro de la affiche como él queda relegado a un segundo plano? Es simplemente indignante ver cómo el talento genuino es eclipsado por una industria que premia lo mediocre. La escuela polaca de diseño, que ha influido en su trabajo, muestra que el verdadero arte gráfico no se trata solo de hacer algo bonito, sino de comunicar un mensaje, de provocar reflexión. Sin embargo, hoy en día, los diseñadores que se atreven a tener una voz auténtica son ignorados en favor de aquellos que solo buscan vender un producto. La cultura visual de nuestra era necesita un cambio radical. Necesitamos más Alain Le Quernec y menos modas pasajeras que solo buscan llenar espacios vacíos. La pasión por la affiche no debe ser algo relegado a los márgenes, sino algo que debe ser celebrado en el centro de nuestra sociedad. Es hora de que el público despierte y exija una mayor apreciación de aquellos que realmente han contribuido a la cultura visual. Así que, en lugar de seguir aplaudiendo a las estrellas fugaces del diseño gráfico, hagamos un esfuerzo consciente por elevar y difundir el trabajo de artistas como Alain Le Quernec. Su legado es un recordatorio constante de que el arte tiene el poder de transformar y desafiar, y no debemos permitir que se pierda en el ruido del consumismo. #AlainLeQuernec #ArteGráfico #PasiónPorLaAffiche #RevoluciónVisual #DiseñoConPropósito
    Alain Le Quernec, la passion de l’affiche
    De sa première affiche réalisée en 1962 à ses collaborations avec le journal Le Monde, en passant par l’influence des événements de mai 1968 et de l’école polonaise, Alain Le Quernec est une figure majeure du graphisme. L’article Alain Le Quernec,
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  • The 25 creative studios inspiring us the most in 2025

    Which creative studio do you most admire right now, and why? This is a question we asked our community via an ongoing survey. With more than 700 responses so far, these are the top winners. What's striking about this year's results is the popularity of studios that aren't just producing beautiful work but are also actively shaping discussions and tackling the big challenges facing our industry and society.
    From the vibrant energy of Brazilian culture to the thoughtful minimalism of North European aesthetics, this list reflects a global creative landscape that's more connected, more conscious, and more collaborative than ever before.
    In short, these studios aren't just following trends; they're setting them. Read on to discover the 25 studios our community is most excited about right now.
    1. Porto Rocha
    Porto Rocha is a New York-based agency that unites strategy and design to create work that evolves with the world we live in. It continues to dominate conversations in 2025, and it's easy to see why. Founders Felipe Rocha and Leo Porto have built something truly special—a studio that not only creates visually stunning work but also actively celebrates and amplifies diverse voices in design.
    For instance, their recent bold new identity for the São Paulo art museum MASP nods to Brazilian modernist design traditions while reimagining them for a contemporary audience. The rebrand draws heavily on the museum's iconic modernist architecture by Lina Bo Bardi, using a red-and-black colour palette and strong typography to reflect the building's striking visual presence.
    As we write this article, Porto Rocha just shared a new partnership with Google to reimagine the visual and verbal identity of its revolutionary Gemini AI model. We can't wait to see what they come up with!

    2. DixonBaxi
    Simon Dixon and Aporva Baxi's London powerhouse specialises in creating brand strategies and design systems for "brave businesses" that want to challenge convention, including Hulu, Audible, and the Premier League. The studio had an exceptional start to 2025 by collaborating with Roblox on a brand new design system. At the heart of this major project is the Tilt: a 15-degree shift embedded in the logo that signals momentum, creativity, and anticipation.
    They've also continued to build their reputation as design thought leaders. At the OFFF Festival 2025, for instance, Simon and Aporva delivered a masterclass on running a successful brand design agency. Their core message centred on the importance of people and designing with intention, even in the face of global challenges. They also highlighted "Super Futures," their program that encourages employees to think freely and positively about brand challenges and audience desires, aiming to reclaim creative liberation.
    And if that wasn't enough, DixonBaxi has just launched its brand new website, one that's designed to be open in nature. As Simon explains: "It's not a shop window. It's a space to share the thinking and ethos that drive us. You'll find our work, but more importantly, what shapes it. No guff. Just us."

    3. Mother
    Mother is a renowned independent creative agency founded in London and now boasts offices in New York and Los Angeles as well. They've spent 2025 continuing to push the boundaries of what advertising can achieve. And they've made an especially big splash with their latest instalment of KFC's 'Believe' campaign, featuring a surreal and humorous take on KFC's gravy. As we wrote at the time: "Its balance between theatrical grandeur and self-awareness makes the campaign uniquely engaging."
    4. Studio Dumbar/DEPT®
    Based in Rotterdam, Studio Dumbar/DEPT® is widely recognised for its influential work in visual branding and identity, often incorporating creative coding and sound, for clients such as the Dutch Railways, Instagram, and the Van Gogh Museum.
    In 2025, we've especially admired their work for the Dutch football club Feyenoord, which brings the team under a single, cohesive vision that reflects its energy and prowess. This groundbreaking rebrand, unveiled at the start of May, moves away from nostalgia, instead emphasising the club's "measured ferocity, confidence, and ambition".
    5. HONDO
    Based between Palma de Mallorca, Spain and London, HONDO specialises in branding, editorial, typography and product design. We're particular fans of their rebranding of metal furniture makers Castil, based around clean and versatile designs that highlight Castil's vibrant and customisable products.
    This new system features a bespoke monospaced typeface and logo design that evokes Castil's adaptability and the precision of its craftsmanship.

    6. Smith & Diction
    Smith & Diction is a small but mighty design and copy studio founded by Mike and Chara Smith in Philadelphia. Born from dreams, late-night chats, and plenty of mistakes, the studio has grown into a creative force known for thoughtful, boundary-pushing branding.
    Starting out with Mike designing in a tiny apartment while Chara held down a day job, the pair learned the ropes the hard way—and now they're thriving. Recent highlights include their work with Gamma, an AI platform that lets you quickly get ideas out of your head and into a presentation deck or onto a website.
    Gamma wanted their brand update to feel "VERY fun and a little bit out there" with an AI-first approach. So Smith & Diction worked hard to "put weird to the test" while still developing responsible systems for logo, type and colour. The results, as ever, were exceptional.

    7. DNCO
    DNCO is a London and New York-based creative studio specialising in place branding. They are best known for shaping identities, digital tools, and wayfinding for museums, cultural institutions, and entire neighbourhoods, with clients including the Design Museum, V&A and Transport for London.
    Recently, DNCO has been making headlines again with its ambitious brand refresh for Dumbo, a New York neighbourhood struggling with misperceptions due to mass tourism. The goal was to highlight Dumbo's unconventional spirit and demonstrate it as "a different side of New York."
    DNCO preserved the original diagonal logo and introduced a flexible "tape graphic" system, inspired by the neighbourhood's history of inventing the cardboard box, to reflect its ingenuity and reveal new perspectives. The colour palette and typography were chosen to embody Dumbo's industrial and gritty character.

    8. Hey Studio
    Founded by Verònica Fuerte in Barcelona, Spain, Hey Studio is a small, all-female design agency celebrated for its striking use of geometry, bold colour, and playful yet refined visual language. With a focus on branding, illustration, editorial design, and typography, they combine joy with craft to explore issues with heart and purpose.
    A great example of their impact is their recent branding for Rainbow Wool. This German initiative is transforming wool from gay rams into fashion products to support the LGBT community.
    As is typical for Hey Studio, the project's identity is vibrant and joyful, utilising bright, curved shapes that will put a smile on everyone's face.

    9. Koto
    Koto is a London-based global branding and digital studio known for co-creation, strategic thinking, expressive design systems, and enduring partnerships. They're well-known in the industry for bringing warmth, optimism and clarity to complex brand challenges.
    Over the past 18 months, they've undertaken a significant project to refresh Amazon's global brand identity. This extensive undertaking has involved redesigning Amazon's master brand and over 50 of its sub-brands across 15 global markets.
    Koto's approach, described as "radical coherence", aims to refine and modernize Amazon's most recognizable elements rather than drastically changing them. You can read more about the project here.

    10. Robot Food
    Robot Food is a Leeds-based, brand-first creative studio recognised for its strategic and holistic approach. They're past masters at melding creative ideas with commercial rigour across packaging, brand strategy and campaign design.
    Recent Robot Food projects have included a bold rebrand for Hip Pop, a soft drinks company specializing in kombucha and alternative sodas. Their goal was to elevate Hip Pop from an indie challenger to a mainstream category leader, moving away from typical health drink aesthetics.
    The results are visually striking, with black backgrounds prominently featured, punctuated by vibrant fruit illustrations and flavour-coded colours. about the project here.

    11. Saffron Brand Consultants
    Saffron is an independent global consultancy with offices in London, Madrid, Vienna and Istanbul. With deep expertise in naming, strategy, identity, and design systems, they work with leading public and private-sector clients to develop confident, culturally intelligent brands.
    One 2025 highlight so far has been their work for Saudi National Bankto create NEO, a groundbreaking digital lifestyle bank in Saudi Arabia.
    Saffron integrated cultural and design trends, including Saudi neo-futurism, for its sonic identity to create a product that supports both individual and community connections. The design system strikes a balance between modern Saudi aesthetics and the practical demands of a fast-paced digital product, ensuring a consistent brand reflection across all interactions.
    12. Alright Studio
    Alright Studio is a full-service strategy, creative, production and technology agency based in Brooklyn, New York. It prides itself on a "no house style" approach for clients, including A24, Meta Platforms, and Post Malone. One of the most exciting of their recent projects has been Offball, a digital-first sports news platform that aims to provide more nuanced, positive sports storytelling.
    Alright Studio designed a clean, intuitive, editorial-style platform featuring a masthead-like logotype and universal sports iconography, creating a calmer user experience aligned with OffBall's positive content.
    13. Wolff Olins
    Wolff Olins is a global brand consultancy with four main offices: London, New York, San Francisco, and Los Angeles. Known for their courageous, culturally relevant branding and forward-thinking strategy, they collaborate with large corporations and trailblazing organisations to create bold, authentic brand identities that resonate emotionally.
    A particular highlight of 2025 so far has been their collaboration with Leo Burnett to refresh Sandals Resorts' global brand with the "Made of Caribbean" campaign. This strategic move positions Sandals not merely as a luxury resort but as a cultural ambassador for the Caribbean.
    Wolff Olins developed a new visual identity called "Natural Vibrancy," integrating local influences with modern design to reflect a genuine connection to the islands' culture. This rebrand speaks to a growing traveller demand for authenticity and meaningful experiences, allowing Sandals to define itself as an extension of the Caribbean itself.

    14. COLLINS
    Founded by Brian Collins, COLLINS is an independent branding and design consultancy based in the US, celebrated for its playful visual language, expressive storytelling and culturally rich identity systems. In the last few months, we've loved the new branding they designed for Barcelona's 25th Offf Festival, which departs from its usual consistent wordmark.
    The updated identity is inspired by the festival's role within the international creative community, and is rooted in the concept of 'Centre Offf Gravity'. This concept is visually expressed through the festival's name, which appears to exert a gravitational pull on the text boxes, causing them to "stick" to it.
    Additionally, the 'f's in the wordmark are merged into a continuous line reminiscent of a magnet, with the motion graphics further emphasising the gravitational pull as the name floats and other elements follow.
    15. Studio Spass
    Studio Spass is a creative studio based in Rotterdam, the Netherlands, focused on vibrant and dynamic identity systems that reflect the diverse and multifaceted nature of cultural institutions. One of their recent landmark projects was Bigger, a large-scale typographic installation created for the Shenzhen Art Book Fair.
    Inspired by tear-off calendars and the physical act of reading, Studio Spass used 264 A4 books, with each page displaying abstract details, to create an evolving grid of colour and type. Visitors were invited to interact with the installation by flipping pages, constantly revealing new layers of design and a hidden message: "Enjoy books!"

    16. Applied Design Works
    Applied Design Works is a New York studio that specialises in reshaping businesses through branding and design. They provide expertise in design, strategy, and implementation, with a focus on building long-term, collaborative relationships with their clients.
    We were thrilled by their recent work for Grand Central Madison, where they were instrumental in ushering in a new era for the transportation hub.
    Applied Design sought to create a commuter experience that imbued the spirit of New York, showcasing its diversity of thought, voice, and scale that befits one of the greatest cities in the world and one of the greatest structures in it.

    17. The Chase
    The Chase Creative Consultants is a Manchester-based independent creative consultancy with over 35 years of experience, known for blending humour, purpose, and strong branding to rejuvenate popular consumer campaigns. "We're not designers, writers, advertisers or brand strategists," they say, "but all of these and more. An ideas-based creative studio."
    Recently, they were tasked with shaping the identity of York Central, a major urban regeneration project set to become a new city quarter for York. The Chase developed the identity based on extensive public engagement, listening to residents of all ages about their perceptions of the city and their hopes for the new area. The resulting brand identity uses linear forms that subtly reference York's famous railway hub, symbolising the long-standing connections the city has fostered.

    18. A Practice for Everyday Life
    Based in London and founded by Kirsty Carter and Emma Thomas, A Practice for Everyday Life built a reputation as a sought-after collaborator with like-minded companies, galleries, institutions and individuals. Not to mention a conceptual rigour that ensures each design is meaningful and original.
    Recently, they've been working on the visual identity for Muzej Lah, a new international museum for contemporary art in Bled, Slovenia opening in 2026. This centres around a custom typeface inspired by the slanted geometry and square detailing of its concrete roof tiles. It also draws from European modernist typography and the experimental lettering of Jože Plečnik, one of Slovenia's most influential architects.⁠

    A Practice for Everyday Life. Photo: Carol Sachs

    Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me publication design by A Practice for Everyday Life, 2024. Photo: Ed Park

    La Biennale di Venezia identity by A Practice for Everyday Life, 2022. Photo: Thomas Adank

    CAM – Centro de Arte Moderna Gulbenkian identity by A Practice for Everyday Life, 2024. Photo: Sanda Vučković

    19. Studio Nari
    Studio Nari is a London-based creative and branding agency partnering with clients around the world to build "brands that truly connect with people". NARI stands, by the way, for Not Always Right Ideas. As they put it, "It's a name that might sound odd for a branding agency, but it reflects everything we believe."
    One landmark project this year has been a comprehensive rebrand for the electronic music festival Field Day. Studio Nari created a dynamic and evolving identity that reflects the festival's growth and its connection to the electronic music scene and community.
    The core idea behind the rebrand is a "reactive future", allowing the brand to adapt and grow with the festival and current trends while maintaining a strong foundation. A new, steadfast wordmark is at its centre, while a new marque has been introduced for the first time.
    20. Beetroot Design Group
    Beetroot is a 25‑strong creative studio celebrated for its bold identities and storytelling-led approach. Based in Thessaloniki, Greece, their work spans visual identity, print, digital and motion, and has earned international recognition, including Red Dot Awards. Recently, they also won a Wood Pencil at the D&AD Awards 2025 for a series of posters created to promote live jazz music events.
    The creative idea behind all three designs stems from improvisation as a key feature of jazz. Each poster communicates the artist's name and other relevant information through a typographical "improvisation".
    21. Kind Studio
    Kind Studio is an independent creative agency based in London that specialises in branding and digital design, as well as offering services in animation, creative and art direction, and print design. Their goal is to collaborate closely with clients to create impactful and visually appealing designs.
    One recent project that piqued our interest was a bilingual, editorially-driven digital platform for FC Como Women, a professional Italian football club. To reflect the club's ambition of promoting gender equality and driving positive social change within football, the new website employs bold typography, strong imagery, and an empowering tone of voice to inspire and disseminate its message.

    22. Slug Global
    Slug Global is a creative agency and art collective founded by artist and musician Bosco. Focused on creating immersive experiences "for both IRL and URL", their goal is to work with artists and brands to establish a sustainable media platform that embodies the values of young millennials, Gen Z and Gen Alpha.
    One of Slug Global's recent projects involved a collaboration with SheaMoisture and xoNecole for a three-part series called The Root of It. This series celebrates black beauty and hair, highlighting its significance as a connection to ancestry, tradition, blueprint and culture for black women.

    23. Little Troop
    New York studio Little Troop crafts expressive and intimate branding for lifestyle, fashion, and cultural clients. Led by creative directors Noemie Le Coz and Jeremy Elliot, they're known for their playful and often "kid-like" approach to design, drawing inspiration from their own experiences as 90s kids.
    One of their recent and highly acclaimed projects is the visual identity for MoMA's first-ever family festival, Another World. Little Troop was tasked with developing a comprehensive visual identity that would extend from small items, such as café placemats, to large billboards.
    Their designs were deliberately a little "dream-like" and relied purely on illustration to sell the festival without needing photography. Little Troop also carefully selected seven colours from MoMA's existing brand guidelines to strike a balance between timelessness, gender neutrality, and fun.

    24. Morcos Key
    Morcos Key is a Brooklyn-based design studio co-founded by Jon Key and Wael Morcos. Collaborating with a diverse range of clients, including arts and cultural institutions, non-profits and commercial enterprises, they're known for translating clients' stories into impactful visual systems through thoughtful conversation and formal expression.
    One notable project is their visual identity work for Hammer & Hope, a magazine that focuses on politics and culture within the black radical tradition. For this project, Morcos Key developed not only the visual identity but also a custom all-caps typeface to reflect the publication's mission and content.
    25. Thirst
    Thirst, also known as Thirst Craft, is an award-winning strategic drinks packaging design agency based in Glasgow, Scotland, with additional hubs in London and New York. Founded in 2015 by Matthew Stephen Burns and Christopher John Black, the company specializes in building creatively distinctive and commercially effective brands for the beverage industry.
    To see what they're capable of, check out their work for SKYY Vodka. The new global visual identity system, called Audacious Glamour', aims to unify SKYY under a singular, powerful idea. The visual identity benefits from bolder framing, patterns, and a flavour-forward colour palette to highlight each product's "juicy attitude", while the photography style employs macro shots and liquid highlights to convey a premium feel.
    #creative #studios #inspiring #most
    The 25 creative studios inspiring us the most in 2025
    Which creative studio do you most admire right now, and why? This is a question we asked our community via an ongoing survey. With more than 700 responses so far, these are the top winners. What's striking about this year's results is the popularity of studios that aren't just producing beautiful work but are also actively shaping discussions and tackling the big challenges facing our industry and society. From the vibrant energy of Brazilian culture to the thoughtful minimalism of North European aesthetics, this list reflects a global creative landscape that's more connected, more conscious, and more collaborative than ever before. In short, these studios aren't just following trends; they're setting them. Read on to discover the 25 studios our community is most excited about right now. 1. Porto Rocha Porto Rocha is a New York-based agency that unites strategy and design to create work that evolves with the world we live in. It continues to dominate conversations in 2025, and it's easy to see why. Founders Felipe Rocha and Leo Porto have built something truly special—a studio that not only creates visually stunning work but also actively celebrates and amplifies diverse voices in design. For instance, their recent bold new identity for the São Paulo art museum MASP nods to Brazilian modernist design traditions while reimagining them for a contemporary audience. The rebrand draws heavily on the museum's iconic modernist architecture by Lina Bo Bardi, using a red-and-black colour palette and strong typography to reflect the building's striking visual presence. As we write this article, Porto Rocha just shared a new partnership with Google to reimagine the visual and verbal identity of its revolutionary Gemini AI model. We can't wait to see what they come up with! 2. DixonBaxi Simon Dixon and Aporva Baxi's London powerhouse specialises in creating brand strategies and design systems for "brave businesses" that want to challenge convention, including Hulu, Audible, and the Premier League. The studio had an exceptional start to 2025 by collaborating with Roblox on a brand new design system. At the heart of this major project is the Tilt: a 15-degree shift embedded in the logo that signals momentum, creativity, and anticipation. They've also continued to build their reputation as design thought leaders. At the OFFF Festival 2025, for instance, Simon and Aporva delivered a masterclass on running a successful brand design agency. Their core message centred on the importance of people and designing with intention, even in the face of global challenges. They also highlighted "Super Futures," their program that encourages employees to think freely and positively about brand challenges and audience desires, aiming to reclaim creative liberation. And if that wasn't enough, DixonBaxi has just launched its brand new website, one that's designed to be open in nature. As Simon explains: "It's not a shop window. It's a space to share the thinking and ethos that drive us. You'll find our work, but more importantly, what shapes it. No guff. Just us." 3. Mother Mother is a renowned independent creative agency founded in London and now boasts offices in New York and Los Angeles as well. They've spent 2025 continuing to push the boundaries of what advertising can achieve. And they've made an especially big splash with their latest instalment of KFC's 'Believe' campaign, featuring a surreal and humorous take on KFC's gravy. As we wrote at the time: "Its balance between theatrical grandeur and self-awareness makes the campaign uniquely engaging." 4. Studio Dumbar/DEPT® Based in Rotterdam, Studio Dumbar/DEPT® is widely recognised for its influential work in visual branding and identity, often incorporating creative coding and sound, for clients such as the Dutch Railways, Instagram, and the Van Gogh Museum. In 2025, we've especially admired their work for the Dutch football club Feyenoord, which brings the team under a single, cohesive vision that reflects its energy and prowess. This groundbreaking rebrand, unveiled at the start of May, moves away from nostalgia, instead emphasising the club's "measured ferocity, confidence, and ambition". 5. HONDO Based between Palma de Mallorca, Spain and London, HONDO specialises in branding, editorial, typography and product design. We're particular fans of their rebranding of metal furniture makers Castil, based around clean and versatile designs that highlight Castil's vibrant and customisable products. This new system features a bespoke monospaced typeface and logo design that evokes Castil's adaptability and the precision of its craftsmanship. 6. Smith & Diction Smith & Diction is a small but mighty design and copy studio founded by Mike and Chara Smith in Philadelphia. Born from dreams, late-night chats, and plenty of mistakes, the studio has grown into a creative force known for thoughtful, boundary-pushing branding. Starting out with Mike designing in a tiny apartment while Chara held down a day job, the pair learned the ropes the hard way—and now they're thriving. Recent highlights include their work with Gamma, an AI platform that lets you quickly get ideas out of your head and into a presentation deck or onto a website. Gamma wanted their brand update to feel "VERY fun and a little bit out there" with an AI-first approach. So Smith & Diction worked hard to "put weird to the test" while still developing responsible systems for logo, type and colour. The results, as ever, were exceptional. 7. DNCO DNCO is a London and New York-based creative studio specialising in place branding. They are best known for shaping identities, digital tools, and wayfinding for museums, cultural institutions, and entire neighbourhoods, with clients including the Design Museum, V&A and Transport for London. Recently, DNCO has been making headlines again with its ambitious brand refresh for Dumbo, a New York neighbourhood struggling with misperceptions due to mass tourism. The goal was to highlight Dumbo's unconventional spirit and demonstrate it as "a different side of New York." DNCO preserved the original diagonal logo and introduced a flexible "tape graphic" system, inspired by the neighbourhood's history of inventing the cardboard box, to reflect its ingenuity and reveal new perspectives. The colour palette and typography were chosen to embody Dumbo's industrial and gritty character. 8. Hey Studio Founded by Verònica Fuerte in Barcelona, Spain, Hey Studio is a small, all-female design agency celebrated for its striking use of geometry, bold colour, and playful yet refined visual language. With a focus on branding, illustration, editorial design, and typography, they combine joy with craft to explore issues with heart and purpose. A great example of their impact is their recent branding for Rainbow Wool. This German initiative is transforming wool from gay rams into fashion products to support the LGBT community. As is typical for Hey Studio, the project's identity is vibrant and joyful, utilising bright, curved shapes that will put a smile on everyone's face. 9. Koto Koto is a London-based global branding and digital studio known for co-creation, strategic thinking, expressive design systems, and enduring partnerships. They're well-known in the industry for bringing warmth, optimism and clarity to complex brand challenges. Over the past 18 months, they've undertaken a significant project to refresh Amazon's global brand identity. This extensive undertaking has involved redesigning Amazon's master brand and over 50 of its sub-brands across 15 global markets. Koto's approach, described as "radical coherence", aims to refine and modernize Amazon's most recognizable elements rather than drastically changing them. You can read more about the project here. 10. Robot Food Robot Food is a Leeds-based, brand-first creative studio recognised for its strategic and holistic approach. They're past masters at melding creative ideas with commercial rigour across packaging, brand strategy and campaign design. Recent Robot Food projects have included a bold rebrand for Hip Pop, a soft drinks company specializing in kombucha and alternative sodas. Their goal was to elevate Hip Pop from an indie challenger to a mainstream category leader, moving away from typical health drink aesthetics. The results are visually striking, with black backgrounds prominently featured, punctuated by vibrant fruit illustrations and flavour-coded colours. about the project here. 11. Saffron Brand Consultants Saffron is an independent global consultancy with offices in London, Madrid, Vienna and Istanbul. With deep expertise in naming, strategy, identity, and design systems, they work with leading public and private-sector clients to develop confident, culturally intelligent brands. One 2025 highlight so far has been their work for Saudi National Bankto create NEO, a groundbreaking digital lifestyle bank in Saudi Arabia. Saffron integrated cultural and design trends, including Saudi neo-futurism, for its sonic identity to create a product that supports both individual and community connections. The design system strikes a balance between modern Saudi aesthetics and the practical demands of a fast-paced digital product, ensuring a consistent brand reflection across all interactions. 12. Alright Studio Alright Studio is a full-service strategy, creative, production and technology agency based in Brooklyn, New York. It prides itself on a "no house style" approach for clients, including A24, Meta Platforms, and Post Malone. One of the most exciting of their recent projects has been Offball, a digital-first sports news platform that aims to provide more nuanced, positive sports storytelling. Alright Studio designed a clean, intuitive, editorial-style platform featuring a masthead-like logotype and universal sports iconography, creating a calmer user experience aligned with OffBall's positive content. 13. Wolff Olins Wolff Olins is a global brand consultancy with four main offices: London, New York, San Francisco, and Los Angeles. Known for their courageous, culturally relevant branding and forward-thinking strategy, they collaborate with large corporations and trailblazing organisations to create bold, authentic brand identities that resonate emotionally. A particular highlight of 2025 so far has been their collaboration with Leo Burnett to refresh Sandals Resorts' global brand with the "Made of Caribbean" campaign. This strategic move positions Sandals not merely as a luxury resort but as a cultural ambassador for the Caribbean. Wolff Olins developed a new visual identity called "Natural Vibrancy," integrating local influences with modern design to reflect a genuine connection to the islands' culture. This rebrand speaks to a growing traveller demand for authenticity and meaningful experiences, allowing Sandals to define itself as an extension of the Caribbean itself. 14. COLLINS Founded by Brian Collins, COLLINS is an independent branding and design consultancy based in the US, celebrated for its playful visual language, expressive storytelling and culturally rich identity systems. In the last few months, we've loved the new branding they designed for Barcelona's 25th Offf Festival, which departs from its usual consistent wordmark. The updated identity is inspired by the festival's role within the international creative community, and is rooted in the concept of 'Centre Offf Gravity'. This concept is visually expressed through the festival's name, which appears to exert a gravitational pull on the text boxes, causing them to "stick" to it. Additionally, the 'f's in the wordmark are merged into a continuous line reminiscent of a magnet, with the motion graphics further emphasising the gravitational pull as the name floats and other elements follow. 15. Studio Spass Studio Spass is a creative studio based in Rotterdam, the Netherlands, focused on vibrant and dynamic identity systems that reflect the diverse and multifaceted nature of cultural institutions. One of their recent landmark projects was Bigger, a large-scale typographic installation created for the Shenzhen Art Book Fair. Inspired by tear-off calendars and the physical act of reading, Studio Spass used 264 A4 books, with each page displaying abstract details, to create an evolving grid of colour and type. Visitors were invited to interact with the installation by flipping pages, constantly revealing new layers of design and a hidden message: "Enjoy books!" 16. Applied Design Works Applied Design Works is a New York studio that specialises in reshaping businesses through branding and design. They provide expertise in design, strategy, and implementation, with a focus on building long-term, collaborative relationships with their clients. We were thrilled by their recent work for Grand Central Madison, where they were instrumental in ushering in a new era for the transportation hub. Applied Design sought to create a commuter experience that imbued the spirit of New York, showcasing its diversity of thought, voice, and scale that befits one of the greatest cities in the world and one of the greatest structures in it. 17. The Chase The Chase Creative Consultants is a Manchester-based independent creative consultancy with over 35 years of experience, known for blending humour, purpose, and strong branding to rejuvenate popular consumer campaigns. "We're not designers, writers, advertisers or brand strategists," they say, "but all of these and more. An ideas-based creative studio." Recently, they were tasked with shaping the identity of York Central, a major urban regeneration project set to become a new city quarter for York. The Chase developed the identity based on extensive public engagement, listening to residents of all ages about their perceptions of the city and their hopes for the new area. The resulting brand identity uses linear forms that subtly reference York's famous railway hub, symbolising the long-standing connections the city has fostered. 18. A Practice for Everyday Life Based in London and founded by Kirsty Carter and Emma Thomas, A Practice for Everyday Life built a reputation as a sought-after collaborator with like-minded companies, galleries, institutions and individuals. Not to mention a conceptual rigour that ensures each design is meaningful and original. Recently, they've been working on the visual identity for Muzej Lah, a new international museum for contemporary art in Bled, Slovenia opening in 2026. This centres around a custom typeface inspired by the slanted geometry and square detailing of its concrete roof tiles. It also draws from European modernist typography and the experimental lettering of Jože Plečnik, one of Slovenia's most influential architects.⁠ A Practice for Everyday Life. Photo: Carol Sachs Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me publication design by A Practice for Everyday Life, 2024. Photo: Ed Park La Biennale di Venezia identity by A Practice for Everyday Life, 2022. Photo: Thomas Adank CAM – Centro de Arte Moderna Gulbenkian identity by A Practice for Everyday Life, 2024. Photo: Sanda Vučković 19. Studio Nari Studio Nari is a London-based creative and branding agency partnering with clients around the world to build "brands that truly connect with people". NARI stands, by the way, for Not Always Right Ideas. As they put it, "It's a name that might sound odd for a branding agency, but it reflects everything we believe." One landmark project this year has been a comprehensive rebrand for the electronic music festival Field Day. Studio Nari created a dynamic and evolving identity that reflects the festival's growth and its connection to the electronic music scene and community. The core idea behind the rebrand is a "reactive future", allowing the brand to adapt and grow with the festival and current trends while maintaining a strong foundation. A new, steadfast wordmark is at its centre, while a new marque has been introduced for the first time. 20. Beetroot Design Group Beetroot is a 25‑strong creative studio celebrated for its bold identities and storytelling-led approach. Based in Thessaloniki, Greece, their work spans visual identity, print, digital and motion, and has earned international recognition, including Red Dot Awards. Recently, they also won a Wood Pencil at the D&AD Awards 2025 for a series of posters created to promote live jazz music events. The creative idea behind all three designs stems from improvisation as a key feature of jazz. Each poster communicates the artist's name and other relevant information through a typographical "improvisation". 21. Kind Studio Kind Studio is an independent creative agency based in London that specialises in branding and digital design, as well as offering services in animation, creative and art direction, and print design. Their goal is to collaborate closely with clients to create impactful and visually appealing designs. One recent project that piqued our interest was a bilingual, editorially-driven digital platform for FC Como Women, a professional Italian football club. To reflect the club's ambition of promoting gender equality and driving positive social change within football, the new website employs bold typography, strong imagery, and an empowering tone of voice to inspire and disseminate its message. 22. Slug Global Slug Global is a creative agency and art collective founded by artist and musician Bosco. Focused on creating immersive experiences "for both IRL and URL", their goal is to work with artists and brands to establish a sustainable media platform that embodies the values of young millennials, Gen Z and Gen Alpha. One of Slug Global's recent projects involved a collaboration with SheaMoisture and xoNecole for a three-part series called The Root of It. This series celebrates black beauty and hair, highlighting its significance as a connection to ancestry, tradition, blueprint and culture for black women. 23. Little Troop New York studio Little Troop crafts expressive and intimate branding for lifestyle, fashion, and cultural clients. Led by creative directors Noemie Le Coz and Jeremy Elliot, they're known for their playful and often "kid-like" approach to design, drawing inspiration from their own experiences as 90s kids. One of their recent and highly acclaimed projects is the visual identity for MoMA's first-ever family festival, Another World. Little Troop was tasked with developing a comprehensive visual identity that would extend from small items, such as café placemats, to large billboards. Their designs were deliberately a little "dream-like" and relied purely on illustration to sell the festival without needing photography. Little Troop also carefully selected seven colours from MoMA's existing brand guidelines to strike a balance between timelessness, gender neutrality, and fun. 24. Morcos Key Morcos Key is a Brooklyn-based design studio co-founded by Jon Key and Wael Morcos. Collaborating with a diverse range of clients, including arts and cultural institutions, non-profits and commercial enterprises, they're known for translating clients' stories into impactful visual systems through thoughtful conversation and formal expression. One notable project is their visual identity work for Hammer & Hope, a magazine that focuses on politics and culture within the black radical tradition. For this project, Morcos Key developed not only the visual identity but also a custom all-caps typeface to reflect the publication's mission and content. 25. Thirst Thirst, also known as Thirst Craft, is an award-winning strategic drinks packaging design agency based in Glasgow, Scotland, with additional hubs in London and New York. Founded in 2015 by Matthew Stephen Burns and Christopher John Black, the company specializes in building creatively distinctive and commercially effective brands for the beverage industry. To see what they're capable of, check out their work for SKYY Vodka. The new global visual identity system, called Audacious Glamour', aims to unify SKYY under a singular, powerful idea. The visual identity benefits from bolder framing, patterns, and a flavour-forward colour palette to highlight each product's "juicy attitude", while the photography style employs macro shots and liquid highlights to convey a premium feel. #creative #studios #inspiring #most
    WWW.CREATIVEBOOM.COM
    The 25 creative studios inspiring us the most in 2025
    Which creative studio do you most admire right now, and why? This is a question we asked our community via an ongoing survey. With more than 700 responses so far, these are the top winners. What's striking about this year's results is the popularity of studios that aren't just producing beautiful work but are also actively shaping discussions and tackling the big challenges facing our industry and society. From the vibrant energy of Brazilian culture to the thoughtful minimalism of North European aesthetics, this list reflects a global creative landscape that's more connected, more conscious, and more collaborative than ever before. In short, these studios aren't just following trends; they're setting them. Read on to discover the 25 studios our community is most excited about right now. 1. Porto Rocha Porto Rocha is a New York-based agency that unites strategy and design to create work that evolves with the world we live in. It continues to dominate conversations in 2025, and it's easy to see why. Founders Felipe Rocha and Leo Porto have built something truly special—a studio that not only creates visually stunning work but also actively celebrates and amplifies diverse voices in design. For instance, their recent bold new identity for the São Paulo art museum MASP nods to Brazilian modernist design traditions while reimagining them for a contemporary audience. The rebrand draws heavily on the museum's iconic modernist architecture by Lina Bo Bardi, using a red-and-black colour palette and strong typography to reflect the building's striking visual presence. As we write this article, Porto Rocha just shared a new partnership with Google to reimagine the visual and verbal identity of its revolutionary Gemini AI model. We can't wait to see what they come up with! 2. DixonBaxi Simon Dixon and Aporva Baxi's London powerhouse specialises in creating brand strategies and design systems for "brave businesses" that want to challenge convention, including Hulu, Audible, and the Premier League. The studio had an exceptional start to 2025 by collaborating with Roblox on a brand new design system. At the heart of this major project is the Tilt: a 15-degree shift embedded in the logo that signals momentum, creativity, and anticipation. They've also continued to build their reputation as design thought leaders. At the OFFF Festival 2025, for instance, Simon and Aporva delivered a masterclass on running a successful brand design agency. Their core message centred on the importance of people and designing with intention, even in the face of global challenges. They also highlighted "Super Futures," their program that encourages employees to think freely and positively about brand challenges and audience desires, aiming to reclaim creative liberation. And if that wasn't enough, DixonBaxi has just launched its brand new website, one that's designed to be open in nature. As Simon explains: "It's not a shop window. It's a space to share the thinking and ethos that drive us. You'll find our work, but more importantly, what shapes it. No guff. Just us." 3. Mother Mother is a renowned independent creative agency founded in London and now boasts offices in New York and Los Angeles as well. They've spent 2025 continuing to push the boundaries of what advertising can achieve. And they've made an especially big splash with their latest instalment of KFC's 'Believe' campaign, featuring a surreal and humorous take on KFC's gravy. As we wrote at the time: "Its balance between theatrical grandeur and self-awareness makes the campaign uniquely engaging." 4. Studio Dumbar/DEPT® Based in Rotterdam, Studio Dumbar/DEPT® is widely recognised for its influential work in visual branding and identity, often incorporating creative coding and sound, for clients such as the Dutch Railways, Instagram, and the Van Gogh Museum. In 2025, we've especially admired their work for the Dutch football club Feyenoord, which brings the team under a single, cohesive vision that reflects its energy and prowess. This groundbreaking rebrand, unveiled at the start of May, moves away from nostalgia, instead emphasising the club's "measured ferocity, confidence, and ambition". 5. HONDO Based between Palma de Mallorca, Spain and London, HONDO specialises in branding, editorial, typography and product design. We're particular fans of their rebranding of metal furniture makers Castil, based around clean and versatile designs that highlight Castil's vibrant and customisable products. This new system features a bespoke monospaced typeface and logo design that evokes Castil's adaptability and the precision of its craftsmanship. 6. Smith & Diction Smith & Diction is a small but mighty design and copy studio founded by Mike and Chara Smith in Philadelphia. Born from dreams, late-night chats, and plenty of mistakes, the studio has grown into a creative force known for thoughtful, boundary-pushing branding. Starting out with Mike designing in a tiny apartment while Chara held down a day job, the pair learned the ropes the hard way—and now they're thriving. Recent highlights include their work with Gamma, an AI platform that lets you quickly get ideas out of your head and into a presentation deck or onto a website. Gamma wanted their brand update to feel "VERY fun and a little bit out there" with an AI-first approach. So Smith & Diction worked hard to "put weird to the test" while still developing responsible systems for logo, type and colour. The results, as ever, were exceptional. 7. DNCO DNCO is a London and New York-based creative studio specialising in place branding. They are best known for shaping identities, digital tools, and wayfinding for museums, cultural institutions, and entire neighbourhoods, with clients including the Design Museum, V&A and Transport for London. Recently, DNCO has been making headlines again with its ambitious brand refresh for Dumbo, a New York neighbourhood struggling with misperceptions due to mass tourism. The goal was to highlight Dumbo's unconventional spirit and demonstrate it as "a different side of New York." DNCO preserved the original diagonal logo and introduced a flexible "tape graphic" system, inspired by the neighbourhood's history of inventing the cardboard box, to reflect its ingenuity and reveal new perspectives. The colour palette and typography were chosen to embody Dumbo's industrial and gritty character. 8. Hey Studio Founded by Verònica Fuerte in Barcelona, Spain, Hey Studio is a small, all-female design agency celebrated for its striking use of geometry, bold colour, and playful yet refined visual language. With a focus on branding, illustration, editorial design, and typography, they combine joy with craft to explore issues with heart and purpose. A great example of their impact is their recent branding for Rainbow Wool. This German initiative is transforming wool from gay rams into fashion products to support the LGBT community. As is typical for Hey Studio, the project's identity is vibrant and joyful, utilising bright, curved shapes that will put a smile on everyone's face. 9. Koto Koto is a London-based global branding and digital studio known for co-creation, strategic thinking, expressive design systems, and enduring partnerships. They're well-known in the industry for bringing warmth, optimism and clarity to complex brand challenges. Over the past 18 months, they've undertaken a significant project to refresh Amazon's global brand identity. This extensive undertaking has involved redesigning Amazon's master brand and over 50 of its sub-brands across 15 global markets. Koto's approach, described as "radical coherence", aims to refine and modernize Amazon's most recognizable elements rather than drastically changing them. You can read more about the project here. 10. Robot Food Robot Food is a Leeds-based, brand-first creative studio recognised for its strategic and holistic approach. They're past masters at melding creative ideas with commercial rigour across packaging, brand strategy and campaign design. Recent Robot Food projects have included a bold rebrand for Hip Pop, a soft drinks company specializing in kombucha and alternative sodas. Their goal was to elevate Hip Pop from an indie challenger to a mainstream category leader, moving away from typical health drink aesthetics. The results are visually striking, with black backgrounds prominently featured (a rarity in the health drink aisle), punctuated by vibrant fruit illustrations and flavour-coded colours. Read more about the project here. 11. Saffron Brand Consultants Saffron is an independent global consultancy with offices in London, Madrid, Vienna and Istanbul. With deep expertise in naming, strategy, identity, and design systems, they work with leading public and private-sector clients to develop confident, culturally intelligent brands. One 2025 highlight so far has been their work for Saudi National Bank (SNB) to create NEO, a groundbreaking digital lifestyle bank in Saudi Arabia. Saffron integrated cultural and design trends, including Saudi neo-futurism, for its sonic identity to create a product that supports both individual and community connections. The design system strikes a balance between modern Saudi aesthetics and the practical demands of a fast-paced digital product, ensuring a consistent brand reflection across all interactions. 12. Alright Studio Alright Studio is a full-service strategy, creative, production and technology agency based in Brooklyn, New York. It prides itself on a "no house style" approach for clients, including A24, Meta Platforms, and Post Malone. One of the most exciting of their recent projects has been Offball, a digital-first sports news platform that aims to provide more nuanced, positive sports storytelling. Alright Studio designed a clean, intuitive, editorial-style platform featuring a masthead-like logotype and universal sports iconography, creating a calmer user experience aligned with OffBall's positive content. 13. Wolff Olins Wolff Olins is a global brand consultancy with four main offices: London, New York, San Francisco, and Los Angeles. Known for their courageous, culturally relevant branding and forward-thinking strategy, they collaborate with large corporations and trailblazing organisations to create bold, authentic brand identities that resonate emotionally. A particular highlight of 2025 so far has been their collaboration with Leo Burnett to refresh Sandals Resorts' global brand with the "Made of Caribbean" campaign. This strategic move positions Sandals not merely as a luxury resort but as a cultural ambassador for the Caribbean. Wolff Olins developed a new visual identity called "Natural Vibrancy," integrating local influences with modern design to reflect a genuine connection to the islands' culture. This rebrand speaks to a growing traveller demand for authenticity and meaningful experiences, allowing Sandals to define itself as an extension of the Caribbean itself. 14. COLLINS Founded by Brian Collins, COLLINS is an independent branding and design consultancy based in the US, celebrated for its playful visual language, expressive storytelling and culturally rich identity systems. In the last few months, we've loved the new branding they designed for Barcelona's 25th Offf Festival, which departs from its usual consistent wordmark. The updated identity is inspired by the festival's role within the international creative community, and is rooted in the concept of 'Centre Offf Gravity'. This concept is visually expressed through the festival's name, which appears to exert a gravitational pull on the text boxes, causing them to "stick" to it. Additionally, the 'f's in the wordmark are merged into a continuous line reminiscent of a magnet, with the motion graphics further emphasising the gravitational pull as the name floats and other elements follow. 15. Studio Spass Studio Spass is a creative studio based in Rotterdam, the Netherlands, focused on vibrant and dynamic identity systems that reflect the diverse and multifaceted nature of cultural institutions. One of their recent landmark projects was Bigger, a large-scale typographic installation created for the Shenzhen Art Book Fair. Inspired by tear-off calendars and the physical act of reading, Studio Spass used 264 A4 books, with each page displaying abstract details, to create an evolving grid of colour and type. Visitors were invited to interact with the installation by flipping pages, constantly revealing new layers of design and a hidden message: "Enjoy books!" 16. Applied Design Works Applied Design Works is a New York studio that specialises in reshaping businesses through branding and design. They provide expertise in design, strategy, and implementation, with a focus on building long-term, collaborative relationships with their clients. We were thrilled by their recent work for Grand Central Madison (the station that connects Long Island to Grand Central Terminal), where they were instrumental in ushering in a new era for the transportation hub. Applied Design sought to create a commuter experience that imbued the spirit of New York, showcasing its diversity of thought, voice, and scale that befits one of the greatest cities in the world and one of the greatest structures in it. 17. The Chase The Chase Creative Consultants is a Manchester-based independent creative consultancy with over 35 years of experience, known for blending humour, purpose, and strong branding to rejuvenate popular consumer campaigns. "We're not designers, writers, advertisers or brand strategists," they say, "but all of these and more. An ideas-based creative studio." Recently, they were tasked with shaping the identity of York Central, a major urban regeneration project set to become a new city quarter for York. The Chase developed the identity based on extensive public engagement, listening to residents of all ages about their perceptions of the city and their hopes for the new area. The resulting brand identity uses linear forms that subtly reference York's famous railway hub, symbolising the long-standing connections the city has fostered. 18. A Practice for Everyday Life Based in London and founded by Kirsty Carter and Emma Thomas, A Practice for Everyday Life built a reputation as a sought-after collaborator with like-minded companies, galleries, institutions and individuals. Not to mention a conceptual rigour that ensures each design is meaningful and original. Recently, they've been working on the visual identity for Muzej Lah, a new international museum for contemporary art in Bled, Slovenia opening in 2026. This centres around a custom typeface inspired by the slanted geometry and square detailing of its concrete roof tiles. It also draws from European modernist typography and the experimental lettering of Jože Plečnik, one of Slovenia's most influential architects.⁠ A Practice for Everyday Life. Photo: Carol Sachs Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me publication design by A Practice for Everyday Life, 2024. Photo: Ed Park La Biennale di Venezia identity by A Practice for Everyday Life, 2022. Photo: Thomas Adank CAM – Centro de Arte Moderna Gulbenkian identity by A Practice for Everyday Life, 2024. Photo: Sanda Vučković 19. Studio Nari Studio Nari is a London-based creative and branding agency partnering with clients around the world to build "brands that truly connect with people". NARI stands, by the way, for Not Always Right Ideas. As they put it, "It's a name that might sound odd for a branding agency, but it reflects everything we believe." One landmark project this year has been a comprehensive rebrand for the electronic music festival Field Day. Studio Nari created a dynamic and evolving identity that reflects the festival's growth and its connection to the electronic music scene and community. The core idea behind the rebrand is a "reactive future", allowing the brand to adapt and grow with the festival and current trends while maintaining a strong foundation. A new, steadfast wordmark is at its centre, while a new marque has been introduced for the first time. 20. Beetroot Design Group Beetroot is a 25‑strong creative studio celebrated for its bold identities and storytelling-led approach. Based in Thessaloniki, Greece, their work spans visual identity, print, digital and motion, and has earned international recognition, including Red Dot Awards. Recently, they also won a Wood Pencil at the D&AD Awards 2025 for a series of posters created to promote live jazz music events. The creative idea behind all three designs stems from improvisation as a key feature of jazz. Each poster communicates the artist's name and other relevant information through a typographical "improvisation". 21. Kind Studio Kind Studio is an independent creative agency based in London that specialises in branding and digital design, as well as offering services in animation, creative and art direction, and print design. Their goal is to collaborate closely with clients to create impactful and visually appealing designs. One recent project that piqued our interest was a bilingual, editorially-driven digital platform for FC Como Women, a professional Italian football club. To reflect the club's ambition of promoting gender equality and driving positive social change within football, the new website employs bold typography, strong imagery, and an empowering tone of voice to inspire and disseminate its message. 22. Slug Global Slug Global is a creative agency and art collective founded by artist and musician Bosco (Brittany Bosco). Focused on creating immersive experiences "for both IRL and URL", their goal is to work with artists and brands to establish a sustainable media platform that embodies the values of young millennials, Gen Z and Gen Alpha. One of Slug Global's recent projects involved a collaboration with SheaMoisture and xoNecole for a three-part series called The Root of It. This series celebrates black beauty and hair, highlighting its significance as a connection to ancestry, tradition, blueprint and culture for black women. 23. Little Troop New York studio Little Troop crafts expressive and intimate branding for lifestyle, fashion, and cultural clients. Led by creative directors Noemie Le Coz and Jeremy Elliot, they're known for their playful and often "kid-like" approach to design, drawing inspiration from their own experiences as 90s kids. One of their recent and highly acclaimed projects is the visual identity for MoMA's first-ever family festival, Another World. Little Troop was tasked with developing a comprehensive visual identity that would extend from small items, such as café placemats, to large billboards. Their designs were deliberately a little "dream-like" and relied purely on illustration to sell the festival without needing photography. Little Troop also carefully selected seven colours from MoMA's existing brand guidelines to strike a balance between timelessness, gender neutrality, and fun. 24. Morcos Key Morcos Key is a Brooklyn-based design studio co-founded by Jon Key and Wael Morcos. Collaborating with a diverse range of clients, including arts and cultural institutions, non-profits and commercial enterprises, they're known for translating clients' stories into impactful visual systems through thoughtful conversation and formal expression. One notable project is their visual identity work for Hammer & Hope, a magazine that focuses on politics and culture within the black radical tradition. For this project, Morcos Key developed not only the visual identity but also a custom all-caps typeface to reflect the publication's mission and content. 25. Thirst Thirst, also known as Thirst Craft, is an award-winning strategic drinks packaging design agency based in Glasgow, Scotland, with additional hubs in London and New York. Founded in 2015 by Matthew Stephen Burns and Christopher John Black, the company specializes in building creatively distinctive and commercially effective brands for the beverage industry. To see what they're capable of, check out their work for SKYY Vodka. The new global visual identity system, called Audacious Glamour', aims to unify SKYY under a singular, powerful idea. The visual identity benefits from bolder framing, patterns, and a flavour-forward colour palette to highlight each product's "juicy attitude", while the photography style employs macro shots and liquid highlights to convey a premium feel.
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  • How AI is reshaping the future of healthcare and medical research

    Transcript       
    PETER LEE: “In ‘The Little Black Bag,’ a classic science fiction story, a high-tech doctor’s kit of the future is accidentally transported back to the 1950s, into the shaky hands of a washed-up, alcoholic doctor. The ultimate medical tool, it redeems the doctor wielding it, allowing him to practice gratifyingly heroic medicine. … The tale ends badly for the doctor and his treacherous assistant, but it offered a picture of how advanced technology could transform medicine—powerful when it was written nearly 75 years ago and still so today. What would be the Al equivalent of that little black bag? At this moment when new capabilities are emerging, how do we imagine them into medicine?”          
    This is The AI Revolution in Medicine, Revisited. I’m your host, Peter Lee.   
    Shortly after OpenAI’s GPT-4 was publicly released, Carey Goldberg, Dr. Zak Kohane, and I published The AI Revolution in Medicine to help educate the world of healthcare and medical research about the transformative impact this new generative AI technology could have. But because we wrote the book when GPT-4 was still a secret, we had to speculate. Now, two years later, what did we get right, and what did we get wrong?    
    In this series, we’ll talk to clinicians, patients, hospital administrators, and others to understand the reality of AI in the field and where we go from here.  The book passage I read at the top is from “Chapter 10: The Big Black Bag.” 
    In imagining AI in medicine, Carey, Zak, and I included in our book two fictional accounts. In the first, a medical resident consults GPT-4 on her personal phone as the patient in front of her crashes. Within seconds, it offers an alternate response based on recent literature. In the second account, a 90-year-old woman with several chronic conditions is living independently and receiving near-constant medical support from an AI aide.   
    In our conversations with the guests we’ve spoken to so far, we’ve caught a glimpse of these predicted futures, seeing how clinicians and patients are actually using AI today and how developers are leveraging the technology in the healthcare products and services they’re creating. In fact, that first fictional account isn’t so fictional after all, as most of the doctors in the real world actually appear to be using AI at least occasionally—and sometimes much more than occasionally—to help in their daily clinical work. And as for the second fictional account, which is more of a science fiction account, it seems we are indeed on the verge of a new way of delivering and receiving healthcare, though the future is still very much open. 
    As we continue to examine the current state of AI in healthcare and its potential to transform the field, I’m pleased to welcome Bill Gates and Sébastien Bubeck.  
    Bill may be best known as the co-founder of Microsoft, having created the company with his childhood friend Paul Allen in 1975. He’s now the founder of Breakthrough Energy, which aims to advance clean energy innovation, and TerraPower, a company developing groundbreaking nuclear energy and science technologies. He also chairs the world’s largest philanthropic organization, the Gates Foundation, and focuses on solving a variety of health challenges around the globe and here at home. 
    Sébastien is a research lead at OpenAI. He was previously a distinguished scientist, vice president of AI, and a colleague of mine here at Microsoft, where his work included spearheading the development of the family of small language models known as Phi. While at Microsoft, he also coauthored the discussion-provoking 2023 paper “Sparks of Artificial General Intelligence,” which presented the results of early experiments with GPT-4 conducted by a small team from Microsoft Research.     
    Here’s my conversation with Bill Gates and Sébastien Bubeck. 
    LEE: Bill, welcome. 
    BILL GATES: Thank you. 
    LEE: Seb … 
    SÉBASTIEN BUBECK: Yeah. Hi, hi, Peter. Nice to be here. 
    LEE: You know, one of the things that I’ve been doing just to get the conversation warmed up is to talk about origin stories, and what I mean about origin stories is, you know, what was the first contact that you had with large language models or the concept of generative AI that convinced you or made you think that something really important was happening? 
    And so, Bill, I think I’ve heard the story about, you know, the time when the OpenAI folks—Sam Altman, Greg Brockman, and others—showed you something, but could we hear from you what those early encounters were like and what was going through your mind?  
    GATES: Well, I’d been visiting OpenAI soon after it was created to see things like GPT-2 and to see the little arm they had that was trying to match human manipulation and, you know, looking at their games like Dota that they were trying to get as good as human play. And honestly, I didn’t think the language model stuff they were doing, even when they got to GPT-3, would show the ability to learn, you know, in the same sense that a human reads a biology book and is able to take that knowledge and access it not only to pass a test but also to create new medicines. 
    And so my challenge to them was that if their LLM could get a five on the advanced placement biology test, then I would say, OK, it took biologic knowledge and encoded it in an accessible way and that I didn’t expect them to do that very quickly but it would be profound.  
    And it was only about six months after I challenged them to do that, that an early version of GPT-4 they brought up to a dinner at my house, and in fact, it answered most of the questions that night very well. The one it got totally wrong, we were … because it was so good, we kept thinking, Oh, we must be wrong. It turned out it was a math weaknessthat, you know, we later understood that that was an area of, weirdly, of incredible weakness of those early models. But, you know, that was when I realized, OK, the age of cheap intelligence was at its beginning. 
    LEE: Yeah. So I guess it seems like you had something similar to me in that my first encounters, I actually harbored some skepticism. Is it fair to say you were skeptical before that? 
    GATES: Well, the idea that we’ve figured out how to encode and access knowledge in this very deep sense without even understanding the nature of the encoding, … 
    LEE: Right.  
    GATES: … that is a bit weird.  
    LEE: Yeah. 
    GATES: We have an algorithm that creates the computation, but even say, OK, where is the president’s birthday stored in there? Where is this fact stored in there? The fact that even now when we’re playing around, getting a little bit more sense of it, it’s opaque to us what the semantic encoding is, it’s, kind of, amazing to me. I thought the invention of knowledge storage would be an explicit way of encoding knowledge, not an implicit statistical training. 
    LEE: Yeah, yeah. All right. So, Seb, you know, on this same topic, you know, I got—as we say at Microsoft—I got pulled into the tent. 
    BUBECK: Yes.  
    LEE: Because this was a very secret project. And then, um, I had the opportunity to select a small number of researchers in MSRto join and start investigating this thing seriously. And the first person I pulled in was you. 
    BUBECK: Yeah. 
    LEE: And so what were your first encounters? Because I actually don’t remember what happened then. 
    BUBECK: Oh, I remember it very well.My first encounter with GPT-4 was in a meeting with the two of you, actually. But my kind of first contact, the first moment where I realized that something was happening with generative AI, was before that. And I agree with Bill that I also wasn’t too impressed by GPT-3. 
    I though that it was kind of, you know, very naturally mimicking the web, sort of parroting what was written there in a nice way. Still in a way which seemed very impressive. But it wasn’t really intelligent in any way. But shortly after GPT-3, there was a model before GPT-4 that really shocked me, and this was the first image generation model, DALL-E 1. 
    So that was in 2021. And I will forever remember the press release of OpenAI where they had this prompt of an avocado chair and then you had this image of the avocado chair.And what really shocked me is that clearly the model kind of “understood” what is a chair, what is an avocado, and was able to merge those concepts. 
    So this was really, to me, the first moment where I saw some understanding in those models.  
    LEE: So this was, just to get the timing right, that was before I pulled you into the tent. 
    BUBECK: That was before. That was like a year before. 
    LEE: Right.  
    BUBECK: And now I will tell you how, you know, we went from that moment to the meeting with the two of you and GPT-4. 
    So once I saw this kind of understanding, I thought, OK, fine. It understands concept, but it’s still not able to reason. It cannot—as, you know, Bill was saying—it cannot learn from your document. It cannot reason.  
    So I set out to try to prove that. You know, this is what I was in the business of at the time, trying to prove things in mathematics. So I was trying to prove that basically autoregressive transformers could never reason. So I was trying to prove this. And after a year of work, I had something reasonable to show. And so I had the meeting with the two of you, and I had this example where I wanted to say, there is no way that an LLM is going to be able to do x. 
    And then as soon as I … I don’t know if you remember, Bill. But as soon as I said that, you said, oh, but wait a second. I had, you know, the OpenAI crew at my house recently, and they showed me a new model. Why don’t we ask this new model this question?  
    LEE: Yeah.
    BUBECK: And we did, and it solved it on the spot. And that really, honestly, just changed my life. Like, you know, I had been working for a year trying to say that this was impossible. And just right there, it was shown to be possible.  
    LEE:One of the very first things I got interested in—because I was really thinking a lot about healthcare—was healthcare and medicine. 
    And I don’t know if the two of you remember, but I ended up doing a lot of tests. I ran through, you know, step one and step two of the US Medical Licensing Exam. Did a whole bunch of other things. I wrote this big report. It was, you know, I can’t remember … a couple hundred pages.  
    And I needed to share this with someone. I didn’t … there weren’t too many people I could share it with. So I sent, I think, a copy to you, Bill. Sent a copy to you, Seb.  
    I hardly slept for about a week putting that report together. And, yeah, and I kept working on it. But I was far from alone. I think everyone who was in the tent, so to speak, in those early days was going through something pretty similar. All right. So I think … of course, a lot of what I put in the report also ended up being examples that made it into the book. 
    But the main purpose of this conversation isn’t to reminisce aboutor indulge in those reminiscences but to talk about what’s happening in healthcare and medicine. And, you know, as I said, we wrote this book. We did it very, very quickly. Seb, you helped. Bill, you know, you provided a review and some endorsements. 
    But, you know, honestly, we didn’t know what we were talking about because no one had access to this thing. And so we just made a bunch of guesses. So really, the whole thing I wanted to probe with the two of you is, now with two years of experience out in the world, what, you know, what do we think is happening today? 
    You know, is AI actually having an impact, positive or negative, on healthcare and medicine? And what do we now think is going to happen in the next two years, five years, or 10 years? And so I realize it’s a little bit too abstract to just ask it that way. So let me just try to narrow the discussion and guide us a little bit.  
    Um, the kind of administrative and clerical work, paperwork, around healthcare—and we made a lot of guesses about that—that appears to be going well, but, you know, Bill, I know we’ve discussed that sometimes that you think there ought to be a lot more going on. Do you have a viewpoint on how AI is actually finding its way into reducing paperwork? 
    GATES: Well, I’m stunned … I don’t think there should be a patient-doctor meeting where the AI is not sitting in and both transcribing, offering to help with the paperwork, and even making suggestions, although the doctor will be the one, you know, who makes the final decision about the diagnosis and whatever prescription gets done.  
    It’s so helpful. You know, when that patient goes home and their, you know, son who wants to understand what happened has some questions, that AI should be available to continue that conversation. And the way you can improve that experience and streamline things and, you know, involve the people who advise you. I don’t understand why that’s not more adopted, because there you still have the human in the loop making that final decision. 
    But even for, like, follow-up calls to make sure the patient did things, to understand if they have concerns and knowing when to escalate back to the doctor, the benefit is incredible. And, you know, that thing is ready for prime time. That paradigm is ready for prime time, in my view. 
    LEE: Yeah, there are some good products, but it seems like the number one use right now—and we kind of got this from some of the previous guests in previous episodes—is the use of AI just to respond to emails from patients.Does that make sense to you? 
    BUBECK: Yeah. So maybe I want to second what Bill was saying but maybe take a step back first. You know, two years ago, like, the concept of clinical scribes, which is one of the things that we’re talking about right now, it would have sounded, in fact, it sounded two years ago, borderline dangerous. Because everybody was worried about hallucinations. What happened if you have this AI listening in and then it transcribes, you know, something wrong? 
    Now, two years later, I think it’s mostly working. And in fact, it is not yet, you know, fully adopted. You’re right. But it is in production. It is used, you know, in many, many places. So this rate of progress is astounding because it wasn’t obvious that we would be able to overcome those obstacles of hallucination. It’s not to say that hallucinations are fully solved. In the case of the closed system, they are.  
    Now, I think more generally what’s going on in the background is that there is something that we, that certainly I, underestimated, which is this management overhead. So I think the reason why this is not adopted everywhere is really a training and teaching aspect. People need to be taught, like, those systems, how to interact with them. 
    And one example that I really like, a study that recently appeared where they tried to use ChatGPT for diagnosis and they were comparing doctors without and with ChatGPT. And the amazing thing … so this was a set of cases where the accuracy of the doctors alone was around 75%. ChatGPT alone was 90%. So that’s already kind of mind blowing. But then the kicker is that doctors with ChatGPT was 80%.  
    Intelligence alone is not enough. It’s also how it’s presented, how you interact with it. And ChatGPT, it’s an amazing tool. Obviously, I absolutely love it. But it’s not … you don’t want a doctor to have to type in, you know, prompts and use it that way. 
    It should be, as Bill was saying, kind of running continuously in the background, sending you notifications. And you have to be really careful of the rate at which those notifications are being sent. Because if they are too frequent, then the doctor will learn to ignore them. So you have to … all of those things matter, in fact, at least as much as the level of intelligence of the machine. 
    LEE: One of the things I think about, Bill, in that scenario that you described, doctors do some thinking about the patient when they write the note. So, you know, I’m always a little uncertain whether it’s actually … you know, you wouldn’t necessarily want to fully automate this, I don’t think. Or at least there needs to be some prompt to the doctor to make sure that the doctor puts some thought into what happened in the encounter with the patient. Does that make sense to you at all? 
    GATES: At this stage, you know, I’d still put the onus on the doctor to write the conclusions and the summary and not delegate that. 
    The tradeoffs you make a little bit are somewhat dependent on the situation you’re in. If you’re in Africa,
    So, yes, the doctor’s still going to have to do a lot of work, but just the quality of letting the patient and the people around them interact and ask questions and have things explained, that alone is such a quality improvement. It’s mind blowing.  
    LEE: So since you mentioned, you know, Africa—and, of course, this touches on the mission and some of the priorities of the Gates Foundation and this idea of democratization of access to expert medical care—what’s the most interesting stuff going on right now? Are there people and organizations or technologies that are impressing you or that you’re tracking? 
    GATES: Yeah. So the Gates Foundation has given out a lot of grants to people in Africa doing education, agriculture but more healthcare examples than anything. And the way these things start off, they often start out either being patient-centric in a narrow situation, like, OK, I’m a pregnant woman; talk to me. Or, I have infectious disease symptoms; talk to me. Or they’re connected to a health worker where they’re helping that worker get their job done. And we have lots of pilots out, you know, in both of those cases.  
    The dream would be eventually to have the thing the patient consults be so broad that it’s like having a doctor available who understands the local things.  
    LEE: Right.  
    GATES: We’re not there yet. But over the next two or three years, you know, particularly given the worsening financial constraints against African health systems, where the withdrawal of money has been dramatic, you know, figuring out how to take this—what I sometimes call “free intelligence”—and build a quality health system around that, we will have to be more radical in low-income countries than any rich country is ever going to be.  
    LEE: Also, there’s maybe a different regulatory environment, so some of those things maybe are easier? Because right now, I think the world hasn’t figured out how to and whether to regulate, let’s say, an AI that might give a medical diagnosis or write a prescription for a medication. 
    BUBECK: Yeah. I think one issue with this, and it’s also slowing down the deployment of AI in healthcare more generally, is a lack of proper benchmark. Because, you know, you were mentioning the USMLE, for example. That’s a great test to test human beings and their knowledge of healthcare and medicine. But it’s not a great test to give to an AI. 
    It’s not asking the right questions. So finding what are the right questions to test whether an AI system is ready to give diagnosis in a constrained setting, that’s a very, very important direction, which to my surprise, is not yet accelerating at the rate that I was hoping for. 
    LEE: OK, so that gives me an excuse to get more now into the core AI tech because something I’ve discussed with both of you is this issue of what are the right tests. And you both know the very first test I give to any new spin of an LLM is I present a patient, the results—a mythical patient—the results of my physical exam, my mythical physical exam. Maybe some results of some initial labs. And then I present or propose a differential diagnosis. And if you’re not in medicine, a differential diagnosis you can just think of as a prioritized list of the possible diagnoses that fit with all that data. And in that proposed differential, I always intentionally make two mistakes. 
    I make a textbook technical error in one of the possible elements of the differential diagnosis, and I have an error of omission. And, you know, I just want to know, does the LLM understand what I’m talking about? And all the good ones out there do now. But then I want to know, can it spot the errors? And then most importantly, is it willing to tell me I’m wrong, that I’ve made a mistake?  
    That last piece seems really hard for AI today. And so let me ask you first, Seb, because at the time of this taping, of course, there was a new spin of GPT-4o last week that became overly sycophantic. In other words, it was actually prone in that test of mine not only to not tell me I’m wrong, but it actually praised me for the creativity of my differential.What’s up with that? 
    BUBECK: Yeah, I guess it’s a testament to the fact that training those models is still more of an art than a science. So it’s a difficult job. Just to be clear with the audience, we have rolled back thatversion of GPT-4o, so now we don’t have the sycophant version out there. 
    Yeah, no, it’s a really difficult question. It has to do … as you said, it’s very technical. It has to do with the post-training and how, like, where do you nudge the model? So, you know, there is this very classical by now technique called RLHF, where you push the model in the direction of a certain reward model. So the reward model is just telling the model, you know, what behavior is good, what behavior is bad. 
    But this reward model is itself an LLM, and, you know, Bill was saying at the very beginning of the conversation that we don’t really understand how those LLMs deal with concepts like, you know, where is the capital of France located? Things like that. It is the same thing for this reward model. We don’t know why it says that it prefers one output to another, and whether this is correlated with some sycophancy is, you know, something that we discovered basically just now. That if you push too hard in optimization on this reward model, you will get a sycophant model. 
    So it’s kind of … what I’m trying to say is we became too good at what we were doing, and we ended up, in fact, in a trap of the reward model. 
    LEE: I mean, you do want … it’s a difficult balance because you do want models to follow your desires and … 
    BUBECK: It’s a very difficult, very difficult balance. 
    LEE: So this brings up then the following question for me, which is the extent to which we think we’ll need to have specially trained models for things. So let me start with you, Bill. Do you have a point of view on whether we will need to, you know, quote-unquote take AI models to med school? Have them specially trained? Like, if you were going to deploy something to give medical care in underserved parts of the world, do we need to do something special to create those models? 
    GATES: We certainly need to teach them the African languages and the unique dialects so that the multimedia interactions are very high quality. We certainly need to teach them the disease prevalence and unique disease patterns like, you know, neglected tropical diseases and malaria. So we need to gather a set of facts that somebody trying to go for a US customer base, you know, wouldn’t necessarily have that in there. 
    Those two things are actually very straightforward because the additional training time is small. I’d say for the next few years, we’ll also need to do reinforcement learning about the context of being a doctor and how important certain behaviors are. Humans learn over the course of their life to some degree that, I’m in a different context and the way I behave in terms of being willing to criticize or be nice, you know, how important is it? Who’s here? What’s my relationship to them?  
    Right now, these machines don’t have that broad social experience. And so if you know it’s going to be used for health things, a lot of reinforcement learning of the very best humans in that context would still be valuable. Eventually, the models will, having read all the literature of the world about good doctors, bad doctors, it’ll understand as soon as you say, “I want you to be a doctor diagnosing somebody.” All of the implicit reinforcement that fits that situation, you know, will be there.
    LEE: Yeah.
    GATES: And so I hope three years from now, we don’t have to do that reinforcement learning. But today, for any medical context, you would want a lot of data to reinforce tone, willingness to say things when, you know, there might be something significant at stake. 
    LEE: Yeah. So, you know, something Bill said, kind of, reminds me of another thing that I think we missed, which is, the context also … and the specialization also pertains to different, I guess, what we still call “modes,” although I don’t know if the idea of multimodal is the same as it was two years ago. But, you know, what do you make of all of the hubbub around—in fact, within Microsoft Research, this is a big deal, but I think we’re far from alone—you know, medical images and vision, video, proteins and molecules, cell, you know, cellular data and so on. 
    BUBECK: Yeah. OK. So there is a lot to say to everything … to the last, you know, couple of minutes. Maybe on the specialization aspect, you know, I think there is, hiding behind this, a really fundamental scientific question of whether eventually we have a singular AGIthat kind of knows everything and you can just put, you know, explain your own context and it will just get it and understand everything. 
    That’s one vision. I have to say, I don’t particularly believe in this vision. In fact, we humans are not like that at all. I think, hopefully, we are general intelligences, yet we have to specialize a lot. And, you know, I did myself a lot of RL, reinforcement learning, on mathematics. Like, that’s what I did, you know, spent a lot of time doing that. And I didn’t improve on other aspects. You know, in fact, I probably degraded in other aspects.So it’s … I think it’s an important example to have in mind. 
    LEE: I think I might disagree with you on that, though, because, like, doesn’t a model have to see both good science and bad science in order to be able to gain the ability to discern between the two? 
    BUBECK: Yeah, no, that absolutely. I think there is value in seeing the generality, in having a very broad base. But then you, kind of, specialize on verticals. And this is where also, you know, open-weights model, which we haven’t talked about yet, are really important because they allow you to provide this broad base to everyone. And then you can specialize on top of it. 
    LEE: So we have about three hours of stuff to talk about, but our time is actually running low.
    BUBECK: Yes, yes, yes.  
    LEE: So I think I want … there’s a more provocative question. It’s almost a silly question, but I need to ask it of the two of you, which is, is there a future, you know, where AI replaces doctors or replaces, you know, medical specialties that we have today? So what does the world look like, say, five years from now? 
    GATES: Well, it’s important to distinguish healthcare discovery activity from healthcare delivery activity. We focused mostly on delivery. I think it’s very much within the realm of possibility that the AI is not only accelerating healthcare discovery but substituting for a lot of the roles of, you know, I’m an organic chemist, or I run various types of assays. I can see those, which are, you know, testable-output-type jobs but with still very high value, I can see, you know, some replacement in those areas before the doctor.  
    The doctor, still understanding the human condition and long-term dialogues, you know, they’ve had a lifetime of reinforcement of that, particularly when you get into areas like mental health. So I wouldn’t say in five years, either people will choose to adopt it, but it will be profound that there’ll be this nearly free intelligence that can do follow-up, that can help you, you know, make sure you went through different possibilities. 
    And so I’d say, yes, we’ll have doctors, but I’d say healthcare will be massively transformed in its quality and in efficiency by AI in that time period. 
    LEE: Is there a comparison, useful comparison, say, between doctors and, say, programmers, computer programmers, or doctors and, I don’t know, lawyers? 
    GATES: Programming is another one that has, kind of, a mathematical correctness to it, you know, and so the objective function that you’re trying to reinforce to, as soon as you can understand the state machines, you can have something that’s “checkable”; that’s correct. So I think programming, you know, which is weird to say, that the machine will beat us at most programming tasks before we let it take over roles that have deep empathy, you know, physical presence and social understanding in them. 
    LEE: Yeah. By the way, you know, I fully expect in five years that AI will produce mathematical proofs that are checkable for validity, easily checkable, because they’ll be written in a proof-checking language like Lean or something but will be so complex that no human mathematician can understand them. I expect that to happen.  
    I can imagine in some fields, like cellular biology, we could have the same situation in the future because the molecular pathways, the chemistry, biochemistry of human cells or living cells is as complex as any mathematics, and so it seems possible that we may be in a state where in wet lab, we see, Oh yeah, this actually works, but no one can understand why. 
    BUBECK: Yeah, absolutely. I mean, I think I really agree with Bill’s distinction of the discovery and the delivery, and indeed, the discovery’s when you can check things, and at the end, there is an artifact that you can verify. You know, you can run the protocol in the wet lab and seeproduced what you wanted. So I absolutely agree with that.  
    And in fact, you know, we don’t have to talk five years from now. I don’t know if you know, but just recently, there was a paper that was published on a scientific discovery using o3- mini. So this is really amazing. And, you know, just very quickly, just so people know, it was about this statistical physics model, the frustrated Potts model, which has to do with coloring, and basically, the case of three colors, like, more than two colors was open for a long time, and o3 was able to reduce the case of three colors to two colors.  
    LEE: Yeah. 
    BUBECK: Which is just, like, astounding. And this is not … this is now. This is happening right now. So this is something that I personally didn’t expect it would happen so quickly, and it’s due to those reasoning models.  
    Now, on the delivery side, I would add something more to it for the reason why doctors and, in fact, lawyers and coders will remain for a long time, and it’s because we still don’t understand how those models generalize. Like, at the end of the day, we are not able to tell you when they are confronted with a really new, novel situation, whether they will work or not. 
    Nobody is able to give you that guarantee. And I think until we understand this generalization better, we’re not going to be willing to just let the system in the wild without human supervision. 
    LEE: But don’t human doctors, human specialists … so, for example, a cardiologist sees a patient in a certain way that a nephrologist … 
    BUBECK: Yeah.
    LEE: … or an endocrinologist might not.
    BUBECK: That’s right. But another cardiologist will understand and, kind of, expect a certain level of generalization from their peer. And this, we just don’t have it with AI models. Now, of course, you’re exactly right. That generalization is also hard for humans. Like, if you have a human trained for one task and you put them into another task, then you don’t … you often don’t know.
    LEE: OK. You know, the podcast is focused on what’s happened over the last two years. But now, I’d like one provocative prediction about what you think the world of AI and medicine is going to be at some point in the future. You pick your timeframe. I don’t care if it’s two years or 20 years from now, but, you know, what do you think will be different about AI in medicine in that future than today? 
    BUBECK: Yeah, I think the deployment is going to accelerate soon. Like, we’re really not missing very much. There is this enormous capability overhang. Like, even if progress completely stopped, with current systems, we can do a lot more than what we’re doing right now. So I think this will … this has to be realized, you know, sooner rather than later. 
    And I think it’s probably dependent on these benchmarks and proper evaluation and tying this with regulation. So these are things that take time in human society and for good reason. But now we already are at two years; you know, give it another two years and it should be really …  
    LEE: Will AI prescribe your medicines? Write your prescriptions? 
    BUBECK: I think yes. I think yes. 
    LEE: OK. Bill? 
    GATES: Well, I think the next two years, we’ll have massive pilots, and so the amount of use of the AI, still in a copilot-type mode, you know, we should get millions of patient visits, you know, both in general medicine and in the mental health side, as well. And I think that’s going to build up both the data and the confidence to give the AI some additional autonomy. You know, are you going to let it talk to you at night when you’re panicked about your mental health with some ability to escalate?
    And, you know, I’ve gone so far as to tell politicians with national health systems that if they deploy AI appropriately, that the quality of care, the overload of the doctors, the improvement in the economics will be enough that their voters will be stunned because they just don’t expect this, and, you know, they could be reelectedjust on this one thing of fixing what is a very overloaded and economically challenged health system in these rich countries. 
    You know, my personal role is going to be to make sure that in the poorer countries, there isn’t some lag; in fact, in many cases, that we’ll be more aggressive because, you know, we’re comparing to having no access to doctors at all. And, you know, so I think whether it’s India or Africa, there’ll be lessons that are globally valuable because we need medical intelligence. And, you know, thank god AI is going to provide a lot of that. 
    LEE: Well, on that optimistic note, I think that’s a good way to end. Bill, Seb, really appreciate all of this.  
    I think the most fundamental prediction we made in the book is that AI would actually find its way into the practice of medicine, and I think that that at least has come true, maybe in different ways than we expected, but it’s come true, and I think it’ll only accelerate from here. So thanks again, both of you.  
    GATES: Yeah. Thanks, you guys. 
    BUBECK: Thank you, Peter. Thanks, Bill. 
    LEE: I just always feel such a sense of privilege to have a chance to interact and actually work with people like Bill and Sébastien.   
    With Bill, I’m always amazed at how practically minded he is. He’s really thinking about the nuts and bolts of what AI might be able to do for people, and his thoughts about underserved parts of the world, the idea that we might actually be able to empower people with access to expert medical knowledge, I think is both inspiring and amazing.  
    And then, Seb, Sébastien Bubeck, he’s just absolutely a brilliant mind. He has a really firm grip on the deep mathematics of artificial intelligence and brings that to bear in his research and development work. And where that mathematics takes him isn’t just into the nuts and bolts of algorithms but into philosophical questions about the nature of intelligence.  
    One of the things that Sébastien brought up was the state of evaluation of AI systems. And indeed, he was fairly critical in our conversation. But of course, the world of AI research and development is just moving so fast, and indeed, since we recorded our conversation, OpenAI, in fact, released a new evaluation metric that is directly relevant to medical applications, and that is something called HealthBench. And Microsoft Research also released a new evaluation approach or process called ADeLe.  
    HealthBench and ADeLe are examples of new approaches to evaluating AI models that are less about testing their knowledge and ability to pass multiple-choice exams and instead are evaluation approaches designed to assess how well AI models are able to complete tasks that actually arise every day in typical healthcare or biomedical research settings. These are examples of really important good work that speak to how well AI models work in the real world of healthcare and biomedical research and how well they can collaborate with human beings in those settings. 
    You know, I asked Bill and Seb to make some predictions about the future. You know, my own answer, I expect that we’re going to be able to use AI to change how we diagnose patients, change how we decide treatment options.  
    If you’re a doctor or a nurse and you encounter a patient, you’ll ask questions, do a physical exam, you know, call out for labs just like you do today, but then you’ll be able to engage with AI based on all of that data and just ask, you know, based on all the other people who have gone through the same experience, who have similar data, how were they diagnosed? How were they treated? What were their outcomes? And what does that mean for the patient I have right now? Some people call it the “patients like me” paradigm. And I think that’s going to become real because of AI within our lifetimes. That idea of really grounding the delivery in healthcare and medical practice through data and intelligence, I actually now don’t see any barriers to that future becoming real.  
    I’d like to extend another big thank you to Bill and Sébastien for their time. And to our listeners, as always, it’s a pleasure to have you along for the ride. I hope you’ll join us for our remaining conversations, as well as a second coauthor roundtable with Carey and Zak.  
    Until next time.  
    #how #reshaping #future #healthcare #medical
    How AI is reshaping the future of healthcare and medical research
    Transcript        PETER LEE: “In ‘The Little Black Bag,’ a classic science fiction story, a high-tech doctor’s kit of the future is accidentally transported back to the 1950s, into the shaky hands of a washed-up, alcoholic doctor. The ultimate medical tool, it redeems the doctor wielding it, allowing him to practice gratifyingly heroic medicine. … The tale ends badly for the doctor and his treacherous assistant, but it offered a picture of how advanced technology could transform medicine—powerful when it was written nearly 75 years ago and still so today. What would be the Al equivalent of that little black bag? At this moment when new capabilities are emerging, how do we imagine them into medicine?”           This is The AI Revolution in Medicine, Revisited. I’m your host, Peter Lee.    Shortly after OpenAI’s GPT-4 was publicly released, Carey Goldberg, Dr. Zak Kohane, and I published The AI Revolution in Medicine to help educate the world of healthcare and medical research about the transformative impact this new generative AI technology could have. But because we wrote the book when GPT-4 was still a secret, we had to speculate. Now, two years later, what did we get right, and what did we get wrong?     In this series, we’ll talk to clinicians, patients, hospital administrators, and others to understand the reality of AI in the field and where we go from here.  The book passage I read at the top is from “Chapter 10: The Big Black Bag.”  In imagining AI in medicine, Carey, Zak, and I included in our book two fictional accounts. In the first, a medical resident consults GPT-4 on her personal phone as the patient in front of her crashes. Within seconds, it offers an alternate response based on recent literature. In the second account, a 90-year-old woman with several chronic conditions is living independently and receiving near-constant medical support from an AI aide.    In our conversations with the guests we’ve spoken to so far, we’ve caught a glimpse of these predicted futures, seeing how clinicians and patients are actually using AI today and how developers are leveraging the technology in the healthcare products and services they’re creating. In fact, that first fictional account isn’t so fictional after all, as most of the doctors in the real world actually appear to be using AI at least occasionally—and sometimes much more than occasionally—to help in their daily clinical work. And as for the second fictional account, which is more of a science fiction account, it seems we are indeed on the verge of a new way of delivering and receiving healthcare, though the future is still very much open.  As we continue to examine the current state of AI in healthcare and its potential to transform the field, I’m pleased to welcome Bill Gates and Sébastien Bubeck.   Bill may be best known as the co-founder of Microsoft, having created the company with his childhood friend Paul Allen in 1975. He’s now the founder of Breakthrough Energy, which aims to advance clean energy innovation, and TerraPower, a company developing groundbreaking nuclear energy and science technologies. He also chairs the world’s largest philanthropic organization, the Gates Foundation, and focuses on solving a variety of health challenges around the globe and here at home.  Sébastien is a research lead at OpenAI. He was previously a distinguished scientist, vice president of AI, and a colleague of mine here at Microsoft, where his work included spearheading the development of the family of small language models known as Phi. While at Microsoft, he also coauthored the discussion-provoking 2023 paper “Sparks of Artificial General Intelligence,” which presented the results of early experiments with GPT-4 conducted by a small team from Microsoft Research.      Here’s my conversation with Bill Gates and Sébastien Bubeck.  LEE: Bill, welcome.  BILL GATES: Thank you.  LEE: Seb …  SÉBASTIEN BUBECK: Yeah. Hi, hi, Peter. Nice to be here.  LEE: You know, one of the things that I’ve been doing just to get the conversation warmed up is to talk about origin stories, and what I mean about origin stories is, you know, what was the first contact that you had with large language models or the concept of generative AI that convinced you or made you think that something really important was happening?  And so, Bill, I think I’ve heard the story about, you know, the time when the OpenAI folks—Sam Altman, Greg Brockman, and others—showed you something, but could we hear from you what those early encounters were like and what was going through your mind?   GATES: Well, I’d been visiting OpenAI soon after it was created to see things like GPT-2 and to see the little arm they had that was trying to match human manipulation and, you know, looking at their games like Dota that they were trying to get as good as human play. And honestly, I didn’t think the language model stuff they were doing, even when they got to GPT-3, would show the ability to learn, you know, in the same sense that a human reads a biology book and is able to take that knowledge and access it not only to pass a test but also to create new medicines.  And so my challenge to them was that if their LLM could get a five on the advanced placement biology test, then I would say, OK, it took biologic knowledge and encoded it in an accessible way and that I didn’t expect them to do that very quickly but it would be profound.   And it was only about six months after I challenged them to do that, that an early version of GPT-4 they brought up to a dinner at my house, and in fact, it answered most of the questions that night very well. The one it got totally wrong, we were … because it was so good, we kept thinking, Oh, we must be wrong. It turned out it was a math weaknessthat, you know, we later understood that that was an area of, weirdly, of incredible weakness of those early models. But, you know, that was when I realized, OK, the age of cheap intelligence was at its beginning.  LEE: Yeah. So I guess it seems like you had something similar to me in that my first encounters, I actually harbored some skepticism. Is it fair to say you were skeptical before that?  GATES: Well, the idea that we’ve figured out how to encode and access knowledge in this very deep sense without even understanding the nature of the encoding, …  LEE: Right.   GATES: … that is a bit weird.   LEE: Yeah.  GATES: We have an algorithm that creates the computation, but even say, OK, where is the president’s birthday stored in there? Where is this fact stored in there? The fact that even now when we’re playing around, getting a little bit more sense of it, it’s opaque to us what the semantic encoding is, it’s, kind of, amazing to me. I thought the invention of knowledge storage would be an explicit way of encoding knowledge, not an implicit statistical training.  LEE: Yeah, yeah. All right. So, Seb, you know, on this same topic, you know, I got—as we say at Microsoft—I got pulled into the tent.  BUBECK: Yes.   LEE: Because this was a very secret project. And then, um, I had the opportunity to select a small number of researchers in MSRto join and start investigating this thing seriously. And the first person I pulled in was you.  BUBECK: Yeah.  LEE: And so what were your first encounters? Because I actually don’t remember what happened then.  BUBECK: Oh, I remember it very well.My first encounter with GPT-4 was in a meeting with the two of you, actually. But my kind of first contact, the first moment where I realized that something was happening with generative AI, was before that. And I agree with Bill that I also wasn’t too impressed by GPT-3.  I though that it was kind of, you know, very naturally mimicking the web, sort of parroting what was written there in a nice way. Still in a way which seemed very impressive. But it wasn’t really intelligent in any way. But shortly after GPT-3, there was a model before GPT-4 that really shocked me, and this was the first image generation model, DALL-E 1.  So that was in 2021. And I will forever remember the press release of OpenAI where they had this prompt of an avocado chair and then you had this image of the avocado chair.And what really shocked me is that clearly the model kind of “understood” what is a chair, what is an avocado, and was able to merge those concepts.  So this was really, to me, the first moment where I saw some understanding in those models.   LEE: So this was, just to get the timing right, that was before I pulled you into the tent.  BUBECK: That was before. That was like a year before.  LEE: Right.   BUBECK: And now I will tell you how, you know, we went from that moment to the meeting with the two of you and GPT-4.  So once I saw this kind of understanding, I thought, OK, fine. It understands concept, but it’s still not able to reason. It cannot—as, you know, Bill was saying—it cannot learn from your document. It cannot reason.   So I set out to try to prove that. You know, this is what I was in the business of at the time, trying to prove things in mathematics. So I was trying to prove that basically autoregressive transformers could never reason. So I was trying to prove this. And after a year of work, I had something reasonable to show. And so I had the meeting with the two of you, and I had this example where I wanted to say, there is no way that an LLM is going to be able to do x.  And then as soon as I … I don’t know if you remember, Bill. But as soon as I said that, you said, oh, but wait a second. I had, you know, the OpenAI crew at my house recently, and they showed me a new model. Why don’t we ask this new model this question?   LEE: Yeah. BUBECK: And we did, and it solved it on the spot. And that really, honestly, just changed my life. Like, you know, I had been working for a year trying to say that this was impossible. And just right there, it was shown to be possible.   LEE:One of the very first things I got interested in—because I was really thinking a lot about healthcare—was healthcare and medicine.  And I don’t know if the two of you remember, but I ended up doing a lot of tests. I ran through, you know, step one and step two of the US Medical Licensing Exam. Did a whole bunch of other things. I wrote this big report. It was, you know, I can’t remember … a couple hundred pages.   And I needed to share this with someone. I didn’t … there weren’t too many people I could share it with. So I sent, I think, a copy to you, Bill. Sent a copy to you, Seb.   I hardly slept for about a week putting that report together. And, yeah, and I kept working on it. But I was far from alone. I think everyone who was in the tent, so to speak, in those early days was going through something pretty similar. All right. So I think … of course, a lot of what I put in the report also ended up being examples that made it into the book.  But the main purpose of this conversation isn’t to reminisce aboutor indulge in those reminiscences but to talk about what’s happening in healthcare and medicine. And, you know, as I said, we wrote this book. We did it very, very quickly. Seb, you helped. Bill, you know, you provided a review and some endorsements.  But, you know, honestly, we didn’t know what we were talking about because no one had access to this thing. And so we just made a bunch of guesses. So really, the whole thing I wanted to probe with the two of you is, now with two years of experience out in the world, what, you know, what do we think is happening today?  You know, is AI actually having an impact, positive or negative, on healthcare and medicine? And what do we now think is going to happen in the next two years, five years, or 10 years? And so I realize it’s a little bit too abstract to just ask it that way. So let me just try to narrow the discussion and guide us a little bit.   Um, the kind of administrative and clerical work, paperwork, around healthcare—and we made a lot of guesses about that—that appears to be going well, but, you know, Bill, I know we’ve discussed that sometimes that you think there ought to be a lot more going on. Do you have a viewpoint on how AI is actually finding its way into reducing paperwork?  GATES: Well, I’m stunned … I don’t think there should be a patient-doctor meeting where the AI is not sitting in and both transcribing, offering to help with the paperwork, and even making suggestions, although the doctor will be the one, you know, who makes the final decision about the diagnosis and whatever prescription gets done.   It’s so helpful. You know, when that patient goes home and their, you know, son who wants to understand what happened has some questions, that AI should be available to continue that conversation. And the way you can improve that experience and streamline things and, you know, involve the people who advise you. I don’t understand why that’s not more adopted, because there you still have the human in the loop making that final decision.  But even for, like, follow-up calls to make sure the patient did things, to understand if they have concerns and knowing when to escalate back to the doctor, the benefit is incredible. And, you know, that thing is ready for prime time. That paradigm is ready for prime time, in my view.  LEE: Yeah, there are some good products, but it seems like the number one use right now—and we kind of got this from some of the previous guests in previous episodes—is the use of AI just to respond to emails from patients.Does that make sense to you?  BUBECK: Yeah. So maybe I want to second what Bill was saying but maybe take a step back first. You know, two years ago, like, the concept of clinical scribes, which is one of the things that we’re talking about right now, it would have sounded, in fact, it sounded two years ago, borderline dangerous. Because everybody was worried about hallucinations. What happened if you have this AI listening in and then it transcribes, you know, something wrong?  Now, two years later, I think it’s mostly working. And in fact, it is not yet, you know, fully adopted. You’re right. But it is in production. It is used, you know, in many, many places. So this rate of progress is astounding because it wasn’t obvious that we would be able to overcome those obstacles of hallucination. It’s not to say that hallucinations are fully solved. In the case of the closed system, they are.   Now, I think more generally what’s going on in the background is that there is something that we, that certainly I, underestimated, which is this management overhead. So I think the reason why this is not adopted everywhere is really a training and teaching aspect. People need to be taught, like, those systems, how to interact with them.  And one example that I really like, a study that recently appeared where they tried to use ChatGPT for diagnosis and they were comparing doctors without and with ChatGPT. And the amazing thing … so this was a set of cases where the accuracy of the doctors alone was around 75%. ChatGPT alone was 90%. So that’s already kind of mind blowing. But then the kicker is that doctors with ChatGPT was 80%.   Intelligence alone is not enough. It’s also how it’s presented, how you interact with it. And ChatGPT, it’s an amazing tool. Obviously, I absolutely love it. But it’s not … you don’t want a doctor to have to type in, you know, prompts and use it that way.  It should be, as Bill was saying, kind of running continuously in the background, sending you notifications. And you have to be really careful of the rate at which those notifications are being sent. Because if they are too frequent, then the doctor will learn to ignore them. So you have to … all of those things matter, in fact, at least as much as the level of intelligence of the machine.  LEE: One of the things I think about, Bill, in that scenario that you described, doctors do some thinking about the patient when they write the note. So, you know, I’m always a little uncertain whether it’s actually … you know, you wouldn’t necessarily want to fully automate this, I don’t think. Or at least there needs to be some prompt to the doctor to make sure that the doctor puts some thought into what happened in the encounter with the patient. Does that make sense to you at all?  GATES: At this stage, you know, I’d still put the onus on the doctor to write the conclusions and the summary and not delegate that.  The tradeoffs you make a little bit are somewhat dependent on the situation you’re in. If you’re in Africa, So, yes, the doctor’s still going to have to do a lot of work, but just the quality of letting the patient and the people around them interact and ask questions and have things explained, that alone is such a quality improvement. It’s mind blowing.   LEE: So since you mentioned, you know, Africa—and, of course, this touches on the mission and some of the priorities of the Gates Foundation and this idea of democratization of access to expert medical care—what’s the most interesting stuff going on right now? Are there people and organizations or technologies that are impressing you or that you’re tracking?  GATES: Yeah. So the Gates Foundation has given out a lot of grants to people in Africa doing education, agriculture but more healthcare examples than anything. And the way these things start off, they often start out either being patient-centric in a narrow situation, like, OK, I’m a pregnant woman; talk to me. Or, I have infectious disease symptoms; talk to me. Or they’re connected to a health worker where they’re helping that worker get their job done. And we have lots of pilots out, you know, in both of those cases.   The dream would be eventually to have the thing the patient consults be so broad that it’s like having a doctor available who understands the local things.   LEE: Right.   GATES: We’re not there yet. But over the next two or three years, you know, particularly given the worsening financial constraints against African health systems, where the withdrawal of money has been dramatic, you know, figuring out how to take this—what I sometimes call “free intelligence”—and build a quality health system around that, we will have to be more radical in low-income countries than any rich country is ever going to be.   LEE: Also, there’s maybe a different regulatory environment, so some of those things maybe are easier? Because right now, I think the world hasn’t figured out how to and whether to regulate, let’s say, an AI that might give a medical diagnosis or write a prescription for a medication.  BUBECK: Yeah. I think one issue with this, and it’s also slowing down the deployment of AI in healthcare more generally, is a lack of proper benchmark. Because, you know, you were mentioning the USMLE, for example. That’s a great test to test human beings and their knowledge of healthcare and medicine. But it’s not a great test to give to an AI.  It’s not asking the right questions. So finding what are the right questions to test whether an AI system is ready to give diagnosis in a constrained setting, that’s a very, very important direction, which to my surprise, is not yet accelerating at the rate that I was hoping for.  LEE: OK, so that gives me an excuse to get more now into the core AI tech because something I’ve discussed with both of you is this issue of what are the right tests. And you both know the very first test I give to any new spin of an LLM is I present a patient, the results—a mythical patient—the results of my physical exam, my mythical physical exam. Maybe some results of some initial labs. And then I present or propose a differential diagnosis. And if you’re not in medicine, a differential diagnosis you can just think of as a prioritized list of the possible diagnoses that fit with all that data. And in that proposed differential, I always intentionally make two mistakes.  I make a textbook technical error in one of the possible elements of the differential diagnosis, and I have an error of omission. And, you know, I just want to know, does the LLM understand what I’m talking about? And all the good ones out there do now. But then I want to know, can it spot the errors? And then most importantly, is it willing to tell me I’m wrong, that I’ve made a mistake?   That last piece seems really hard for AI today. And so let me ask you first, Seb, because at the time of this taping, of course, there was a new spin of GPT-4o last week that became overly sycophantic. In other words, it was actually prone in that test of mine not only to not tell me I’m wrong, but it actually praised me for the creativity of my differential.What’s up with that?  BUBECK: Yeah, I guess it’s a testament to the fact that training those models is still more of an art than a science. So it’s a difficult job. Just to be clear with the audience, we have rolled back thatversion of GPT-4o, so now we don’t have the sycophant version out there.  Yeah, no, it’s a really difficult question. It has to do … as you said, it’s very technical. It has to do with the post-training and how, like, where do you nudge the model? So, you know, there is this very classical by now technique called RLHF, where you push the model in the direction of a certain reward model. So the reward model is just telling the model, you know, what behavior is good, what behavior is bad.  But this reward model is itself an LLM, and, you know, Bill was saying at the very beginning of the conversation that we don’t really understand how those LLMs deal with concepts like, you know, where is the capital of France located? Things like that. It is the same thing for this reward model. We don’t know why it says that it prefers one output to another, and whether this is correlated with some sycophancy is, you know, something that we discovered basically just now. That if you push too hard in optimization on this reward model, you will get a sycophant model.  So it’s kind of … what I’m trying to say is we became too good at what we were doing, and we ended up, in fact, in a trap of the reward model.  LEE: I mean, you do want … it’s a difficult balance because you do want models to follow your desires and …  BUBECK: It’s a very difficult, very difficult balance.  LEE: So this brings up then the following question for me, which is the extent to which we think we’ll need to have specially trained models for things. So let me start with you, Bill. Do you have a point of view on whether we will need to, you know, quote-unquote take AI models to med school? Have them specially trained? Like, if you were going to deploy something to give medical care in underserved parts of the world, do we need to do something special to create those models?  GATES: We certainly need to teach them the African languages and the unique dialects so that the multimedia interactions are very high quality. We certainly need to teach them the disease prevalence and unique disease patterns like, you know, neglected tropical diseases and malaria. So we need to gather a set of facts that somebody trying to go for a US customer base, you know, wouldn’t necessarily have that in there.  Those two things are actually very straightforward because the additional training time is small. I’d say for the next few years, we’ll also need to do reinforcement learning about the context of being a doctor and how important certain behaviors are. Humans learn over the course of their life to some degree that, I’m in a different context and the way I behave in terms of being willing to criticize or be nice, you know, how important is it? Who’s here? What’s my relationship to them?   Right now, these machines don’t have that broad social experience. And so if you know it’s going to be used for health things, a lot of reinforcement learning of the very best humans in that context would still be valuable. Eventually, the models will, having read all the literature of the world about good doctors, bad doctors, it’ll understand as soon as you say, “I want you to be a doctor diagnosing somebody.” All of the implicit reinforcement that fits that situation, you know, will be there. LEE: Yeah. GATES: And so I hope three years from now, we don’t have to do that reinforcement learning. But today, for any medical context, you would want a lot of data to reinforce tone, willingness to say things when, you know, there might be something significant at stake.  LEE: Yeah. So, you know, something Bill said, kind of, reminds me of another thing that I think we missed, which is, the context also … and the specialization also pertains to different, I guess, what we still call “modes,” although I don’t know if the idea of multimodal is the same as it was two years ago. But, you know, what do you make of all of the hubbub around—in fact, within Microsoft Research, this is a big deal, but I think we’re far from alone—you know, medical images and vision, video, proteins and molecules, cell, you know, cellular data and so on.  BUBECK: Yeah. OK. So there is a lot to say to everything … to the last, you know, couple of minutes. Maybe on the specialization aspect, you know, I think there is, hiding behind this, a really fundamental scientific question of whether eventually we have a singular AGIthat kind of knows everything and you can just put, you know, explain your own context and it will just get it and understand everything.  That’s one vision. I have to say, I don’t particularly believe in this vision. In fact, we humans are not like that at all. I think, hopefully, we are general intelligences, yet we have to specialize a lot. And, you know, I did myself a lot of RL, reinforcement learning, on mathematics. Like, that’s what I did, you know, spent a lot of time doing that. And I didn’t improve on other aspects. You know, in fact, I probably degraded in other aspects.So it’s … I think it’s an important example to have in mind.  LEE: I think I might disagree with you on that, though, because, like, doesn’t a model have to see both good science and bad science in order to be able to gain the ability to discern between the two?  BUBECK: Yeah, no, that absolutely. I think there is value in seeing the generality, in having a very broad base. But then you, kind of, specialize on verticals. And this is where also, you know, open-weights model, which we haven’t talked about yet, are really important because they allow you to provide this broad base to everyone. And then you can specialize on top of it.  LEE: So we have about three hours of stuff to talk about, but our time is actually running low. BUBECK: Yes, yes, yes.   LEE: So I think I want … there’s a more provocative question. It’s almost a silly question, but I need to ask it of the two of you, which is, is there a future, you know, where AI replaces doctors or replaces, you know, medical specialties that we have today? So what does the world look like, say, five years from now?  GATES: Well, it’s important to distinguish healthcare discovery activity from healthcare delivery activity. We focused mostly on delivery. I think it’s very much within the realm of possibility that the AI is not only accelerating healthcare discovery but substituting for a lot of the roles of, you know, I’m an organic chemist, or I run various types of assays. I can see those, which are, you know, testable-output-type jobs but with still very high value, I can see, you know, some replacement in those areas before the doctor.   The doctor, still understanding the human condition and long-term dialogues, you know, they’ve had a lifetime of reinforcement of that, particularly when you get into areas like mental health. So I wouldn’t say in five years, either people will choose to adopt it, but it will be profound that there’ll be this nearly free intelligence that can do follow-up, that can help you, you know, make sure you went through different possibilities.  And so I’d say, yes, we’ll have doctors, but I’d say healthcare will be massively transformed in its quality and in efficiency by AI in that time period.  LEE: Is there a comparison, useful comparison, say, between doctors and, say, programmers, computer programmers, or doctors and, I don’t know, lawyers?  GATES: Programming is another one that has, kind of, a mathematical correctness to it, you know, and so the objective function that you’re trying to reinforce to, as soon as you can understand the state machines, you can have something that’s “checkable”; that’s correct. So I think programming, you know, which is weird to say, that the machine will beat us at most programming tasks before we let it take over roles that have deep empathy, you know, physical presence and social understanding in them.  LEE: Yeah. By the way, you know, I fully expect in five years that AI will produce mathematical proofs that are checkable for validity, easily checkable, because they’ll be written in a proof-checking language like Lean or something but will be so complex that no human mathematician can understand them. I expect that to happen.   I can imagine in some fields, like cellular biology, we could have the same situation in the future because the molecular pathways, the chemistry, biochemistry of human cells or living cells is as complex as any mathematics, and so it seems possible that we may be in a state where in wet lab, we see, Oh yeah, this actually works, but no one can understand why.  BUBECK: Yeah, absolutely. I mean, I think I really agree with Bill’s distinction of the discovery and the delivery, and indeed, the discovery’s when you can check things, and at the end, there is an artifact that you can verify. You know, you can run the protocol in the wet lab and seeproduced what you wanted. So I absolutely agree with that.   And in fact, you know, we don’t have to talk five years from now. I don’t know if you know, but just recently, there was a paper that was published on a scientific discovery using o3- mini. So this is really amazing. And, you know, just very quickly, just so people know, it was about this statistical physics model, the frustrated Potts model, which has to do with coloring, and basically, the case of three colors, like, more than two colors was open for a long time, and o3 was able to reduce the case of three colors to two colors.   LEE: Yeah.  BUBECK: Which is just, like, astounding. And this is not … this is now. This is happening right now. So this is something that I personally didn’t expect it would happen so quickly, and it’s due to those reasoning models.   Now, on the delivery side, I would add something more to it for the reason why doctors and, in fact, lawyers and coders will remain for a long time, and it’s because we still don’t understand how those models generalize. Like, at the end of the day, we are not able to tell you when they are confronted with a really new, novel situation, whether they will work or not.  Nobody is able to give you that guarantee. And I think until we understand this generalization better, we’re not going to be willing to just let the system in the wild without human supervision.  LEE: But don’t human doctors, human specialists … so, for example, a cardiologist sees a patient in a certain way that a nephrologist …  BUBECK: Yeah. LEE: … or an endocrinologist might not. BUBECK: That’s right. But another cardiologist will understand and, kind of, expect a certain level of generalization from their peer. And this, we just don’t have it with AI models. Now, of course, you’re exactly right. That generalization is also hard for humans. Like, if you have a human trained for one task and you put them into another task, then you don’t … you often don’t know. LEE: OK. You know, the podcast is focused on what’s happened over the last two years. But now, I’d like one provocative prediction about what you think the world of AI and medicine is going to be at some point in the future. You pick your timeframe. I don’t care if it’s two years or 20 years from now, but, you know, what do you think will be different about AI in medicine in that future than today?  BUBECK: Yeah, I think the deployment is going to accelerate soon. Like, we’re really not missing very much. There is this enormous capability overhang. Like, even if progress completely stopped, with current systems, we can do a lot more than what we’re doing right now. So I think this will … this has to be realized, you know, sooner rather than later.  And I think it’s probably dependent on these benchmarks and proper evaluation and tying this with regulation. So these are things that take time in human society and for good reason. But now we already are at two years; you know, give it another two years and it should be really …   LEE: Will AI prescribe your medicines? Write your prescriptions?  BUBECK: I think yes. I think yes.  LEE: OK. Bill?  GATES: Well, I think the next two years, we’ll have massive pilots, and so the amount of use of the AI, still in a copilot-type mode, you know, we should get millions of patient visits, you know, both in general medicine and in the mental health side, as well. And I think that’s going to build up both the data and the confidence to give the AI some additional autonomy. You know, are you going to let it talk to you at night when you’re panicked about your mental health with some ability to escalate? And, you know, I’ve gone so far as to tell politicians with national health systems that if they deploy AI appropriately, that the quality of care, the overload of the doctors, the improvement in the economics will be enough that their voters will be stunned because they just don’t expect this, and, you know, they could be reelectedjust on this one thing of fixing what is a very overloaded and economically challenged health system in these rich countries.  You know, my personal role is going to be to make sure that in the poorer countries, there isn’t some lag; in fact, in many cases, that we’ll be more aggressive because, you know, we’re comparing to having no access to doctors at all. And, you know, so I think whether it’s India or Africa, there’ll be lessons that are globally valuable because we need medical intelligence. And, you know, thank god AI is going to provide a lot of that.  LEE: Well, on that optimistic note, I think that’s a good way to end. Bill, Seb, really appreciate all of this.   I think the most fundamental prediction we made in the book is that AI would actually find its way into the practice of medicine, and I think that that at least has come true, maybe in different ways than we expected, but it’s come true, and I think it’ll only accelerate from here. So thanks again, both of you.   GATES: Yeah. Thanks, you guys.  BUBECK: Thank you, Peter. Thanks, Bill.  LEE: I just always feel such a sense of privilege to have a chance to interact and actually work with people like Bill and Sébastien.    With Bill, I’m always amazed at how practically minded he is. He’s really thinking about the nuts and bolts of what AI might be able to do for people, and his thoughts about underserved parts of the world, the idea that we might actually be able to empower people with access to expert medical knowledge, I think is both inspiring and amazing.   And then, Seb, Sébastien Bubeck, he’s just absolutely a brilliant mind. He has a really firm grip on the deep mathematics of artificial intelligence and brings that to bear in his research and development work. And where that mathematics takes him isn’t just into the nuts and bolts of algorithms but into philosophical questions about the nature of intelligence.   One of the things that Sébastien brought up was the state of evaluation of AI systems. And indeed, he was fairly critical in our conversation. But of course, the world of AI research and development is just moving so fast, and indeed, since we recorded our conversation, OpenAI, in fact, released a new evaluation metric that is directly relevant to medical applications, and that is something called HealthBench. And Microsoft Research also released a new evaluation approach or process called ADeLe.   HealthBench and ADeLe are examples of new approaches to evaluating AI models that are less about testing their knowledge and ability to pass multiple-choice exams and instead are evaluation approaches designed to assess how well AI models are able to complete tasks that actually arise every day in typical healthcare or biomedical research settings. These are examples of really important good work that speak to how well AI models work in the real world of healthcare and biomedical research and how well they can collaborate with human beings in those settings.  You know, I asked Bill and Seb to make some predictions about the future. You know, my own answer, I expect that we’re going to be able to use AI to change how we diagnose patients, change how we decide treatment options.   If you’re a doctor or a nurse and you encounter a patient, you’ll ask questions, do a physical exam, you know, call out for labs just like you do today, but then you’ll be able to engage with AI based on all of that data and just ask, you know, based on all the other people who have gone through the same experience, who have similar data, how were they diagnosed? How were they treated? What were their outcomes? And what does that mean for the patient I have right now? Some people call it the “patients like me” paradigm. And I think that’s going to become real because of AI within our lifetimes. That idea of really grounding the delivery in healthcare and medical practice through data and intelligence, I actually now don’t see any barriers to that future becoming real.   I’d like to extend another big thank you to Bill and Sébastien for their time. And to our listeners, as always, it’s a pleasure to have you along for the ride. I hope you’ll join us for our remaining conversations, as well as a second coauthor roundtable with Carey and Zak.   Until next time.   #how #reshaping #future #healthcare #medical
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    How AI is reshaping the future of healthcare and medical research
    Transcript [MUSIC]      [BOOK PASSAGE]   PETER LEE: “In ‘The Little Black Bag,’ a classic science fiction story, a high-tech doctor’s kit of the future is accidentally transported back to the 1950s, into the shaky hands of a washed-up, alcoholic doctor. The ultimate medical tool, it redeems the doctor wielding it, allowing him to practice gratifyingly heroic medicine. … The tale ends badly for the doctor and his treacherous assistant, but it offered a picture of how advanced technology could transform medicine—powerful when it was written nearly 75 years ago and still so today. What would be the Al equivalent of that little black bag? At this moment when new capabilities are emerging, how do we imagine them into medicine?”   [END OF BOOK PASSAGE]     [THEME MUSIC]     This is The AI Revolution in Medicine, Revisited. I’m your host, Peter Lee.    Shortly after OpenAI’s GPT-4 was publicly released, Carey Goldberg, Dr. Zak Kohane, and I published The AI Revolution in Medicine to help educate the world of healthcare and medical research about the transformative impact this new generative AI technology could have. But because we wrote the book when GPT-4 was still a secret, we had to speculate. Now, two years later, what did we get right, and what did we get wrong?     In this series, we’ll talk to clinicians, patients, hospital administrators, and others to understand the reality of AI in the field and where we go from here.   [THEME MUSIC FADES] The book passage I read at the top is from “Chapter 10: The Big Black Bag.”  In imagining AI in medicine, Carey, Zak, and I included in our book two fictional accounts. In the first, a medical resident consults GPT-4 on her personal phone as the patient in front of her crashes. Within seconds, it offers an alternate response based on recent literature. In the second account, a 90-year-old woman with several chronic conditions is living independently and receiving near-constant medical support from an AI aide.    In our conversations with the guests we’ve spoken to so far, we’ve caught a glimpse of these predicted futures, seeing how clinicians and patients are actually using AI today and how developers are leveraging the technology in the healthcare products and services they’re creating. In fact, that first fictional account isn’t so fictional after all, as most of the doctors in the real world actually appear to be using AI at least occasionally—and sometimes much more than occasionally—to help in their daily clinical work. And as for the second fictional account, which is more of a science fiction account, it seems we are indeed on the verge of a new way of delivering and receiving healthcare, though the future is still very much open.  As we continue to examine the current state of AI in healthcare and its potential to transform the field, I’m pleased to welcome Bill Gates and Sébastien Bubeck.   Bill may be best known as the co-founder of Microsoft, having created the company with his childhood friend Paul Allen in 1975. He’s now the founder of Breakthrough Energy, which aims to advance clean energy innovation, and TerraPower, a company developing groundbreaking nuclear energy and science technologies. He also chairs the world’s largest philanthropic organization, the Gates Foundation, and focuses on solving a variety of health challenges around the globe and here at home.  Sébastien is a research lead at OpenAI. He was previously a distinguished scientist, vice president of AI, and a colleague of mine here at Microsoft, where his work included spearheading the development of the family of small language models known as Phi. While at Microsoft, he also coauthored the discussion-provoking 2023 paper “Sparks of Artificial General Intelligence,” which presented the results of early experiments with GPT-4 conducted by a small team from Microsoft Research.    [TRANSITION MUSIC]   Here’s my conversation with Bill Gates and Sébastien Bubeck.  LEE: Bill, welcome.  BILL GATES: Thank you.  LEE: Seb …  SÉBASTIEN BUBECK: Yeah. Hi, hi, Peter. Nice to be here.  LEE: You know, one of the things that I’ve been doing just to get the conversation warmed up is to talk about origin stories, and what I mean about origin stories is, you know, what was the first contact that you had with large language models or the concept of generative AI that convinced you or made you think that something really important was happening?  And so, Bill, I think I’ve heard the story about, you know, the time when the OpenAI folks—Sam Altman, Greg Brockman, and others—showed you something, but could we hear from you what those early encounters were like and what was going through your mind?   GATES: Well, I’d been visiting OpenAI soon after it was created to see things like GPT-2 and to see the little arm they had that was trying to match human manipulation and, you know, looking at their games like Dota that they were trying to get as good as human play. And honestly, I didn’t think the language model stuff they were doing, even when they got to GPT-3, would show the ability to learn, you know, in the same sense that a human reads a biology book and is able to take that knowledge and access it not only to pass a test but also to create new medicines.  And so my challenge to them was that if their LLM could get a five on the advanced placement biology test, then I would say, OK, it took biologic knowledge and encoded it in an accessible way and that I didn’t expect them to do that very quickly but it would be profound.   And it was only about six months after I challenged them to do that, that an early version of GPT-4 they brought up to a dinner at my house, and in fact, it answered most of the questions that night very well. The one it got totally wrong, we were … because it was so good, we kept thinking, Oh, we must be wrong. It turned out it was a math weakness [LAUGHTER] that, you know, we later understood that that was an area of, weirdly, of incredible weakness of those early models. But, you know, that was when I realized, OK, the age of cheap intelligence was at its beginning.  LEE: Yeah. So I guess it seems like you had something similar to me in that my first encounters, I actually harbored some skepticism. Is it fair to say you were skeptical before that?  GATES: Well, the idea that we’ve figured out how to encode and access knowledge in this very deep sense without even understanding the nature of the encoding, …  LEE: Right.   GATES: … that is a bit weird.   LEE: Yeah.  GATES: We have an algorithm that creates the computation, but even say, OK, where is the president’s birthday stored in there? Where is this fact stored in there? The fact that even now when we’re playing around, getting a little bit more sense of it, it’s opaque to us what the semantic encoding is, it’s, kind of, amazing to me. I thought the invention of knowledge storage would be an explicit way of encoding knowledge, not an implicit statistical training.  LEE: Yeah, yeah. All right. So, Seb, you know, on this same topic, you know, I got—as we say at Microsoft—I got pulled into the tent. [LAUGHS]  BUBECK: Yes.   LEE: Because this was a very secret project. And then, um, I had the opportunity to select a small number of researchers in MSR [Microsoft Research] to join and start investigating this thing seriously. And the first person I pulled in was you.  BUBECK: Yeah.  LEE: And so what were your first encounters? Because I actually don’t remember what happened then.  BUBECK: Oh, I remember it very well. [LAUGHS] My first encounter with GPT-4 was in a meeting with the two of you, actually. But my kind of first contact, the first moment where I realized that something was happening with generative AI, was before that. And I agree with Bill that I also wasn’t too impressed by GPT-3.  I though that it was kind of, you know, very naturally mimicking the web, sort of parroting what was written there in a nice way. Still in a way which seemed very impressive. But it wasn’t really intelligent in any way. But shortly after GPT-3, there was a model before GPT-4 that really shocked me, and this was the first image generation model, DALL-E 1.  So that was in 2021. And I will forever remember the press release of OpenAI where they had this prompt of an avocado chair and then you had this image of the avocado chair. [LAUGHTER] And what really shocked me is that clearly the model kind of “understood” what is a chair, what is an avocado, and was able to merge those concepts.  So this was really, to me, the first moment where I saw some understanding in those models.   LEE: So this was, just to get the timing right, that was before I pulled you into the tent.  BUBECK: That was before. That was like a year before.  LEE: Right.   BUBECK: And now I will tell you how, you know, we went from that moment to the meeting with the two of you and GPT-4.  So once I saw this kind of understanding, I thought, OK, fine. It understands concept, but it’s still not able to reason. It cannot—as, you know, Bill was saying—it cannot learn from your document. It cannot reason.   So I set out to try to prove that. You know, this is what I was in the business of at the time, trying to prove things in mathematics. So I was trying to prove that basically autoregressive transformers could never reason. So I was trying to prove this. And after a year of work, I had something reasonable to show. And so I had the meeting with the two of you, and I had this example where I wanted to say, there is no way that an LLM is going to be able to do x.  And then as soon as I … I don’t know if you remember, Bill. But as soon as I said that, you said, oh, but wait a second. I had, you know, the OpenAI crew at my house recently, and they showed me a new model. Why don’t we ask this new model this question?   LEE: Yeah. BUBECK: And we did, and it solved it on the spot. And that really, honestly, just changed my life. Like, you know, I had been working for a year trying to say that this was impossible. And just right there, it was shown to be possible.   LEE: [LAUGHS] One of the very first things I got interested in—because I was really thinking a lot about healthcare—was healthcare and medicine.  And I don’t know if the two of you remember, but I ended up doing a lot of tests. I ran through, you know, step one and step two of the US Medical Licensing Exam. Did a whole bunch of other things. I wrote this big report. It was, you know, I can’t remember … a couple hundred pages.   And I needed to share this with someone. I didn’t … there weren’t too many people I could share it with. So I sent, I think, a copy to you, Bill. Sent a copy to you, Seb.   I hardly slept for about a week putting that report together. And, yeah, and I kept working on it. But I was far from alone. I think everyone who was in the tent, so to speak, in those early days was going through something pretty similar. All right. So I think … of course, a lot of what I put in the report also ended up being examples that made it into the book.  But the main purpose of this conversation isn’t to reminisce about [LAUGHS] or indulge in those reminiscences but to talk about what’s happening in healthcare and medicine. And, you know, as I said, we wrote this book. We did it very, very quickly. Seb, you helped. Bill, you know, you provided a review and some endorsements.  But, you know, honestly, we didn’t know what we were talking about because no one had access to this thing. And so we just made a bunch of guesses. So really, the whole thing I wanted to probe with the two of you is, now with two years of experience out in the world, what, you know, what do we think is happening today?  You know, is AI actually having an impact, positive or negative, on healthcare and medicine? And what do we now think is going to happen in the next two years, five years, or 10 years? And so I realize it’s a little bit too abstract to just ask it that way. So let me just try to narrow the discussion and guide us a little bit.   Um, the kind of administrative and clerical work, paperwork, around healthcare—and we made a lot of guesses about that—that appears to be going well, but, you know, Bill, I know we’ve discussed that sometimes that you think there ought to be a lot more going on. Do you have a viewpoint on how AI is actually finding its way into reducing paperwork?  GATES: Well, I’m stunned … I don’t think there should be a patient-doctor meeting where the AI is not sitting in and both transcribing, offering to help with the paperwork, and even making suggestions, although the doctor will be the one, you know, who makes the final decision about the diagnosis and whatever prescription gets done.   It’s so helpful. You know, when that patient goes home and their, you know, son who wants to understand what happened has some questions, that AI should be available to continue that conversation. And the way you can improve that experience and streamline things and, you know, involve the people who advise you. I don’t understand why that’s not more adopted, because there you still have the human in the loop making that final decision.  But even for, like, follow-up calls to make sure the patient did things, to understand if they have concerns and knowing when to escalate back to the doctor, the benefit is incredible. And, you know, that thing is ready for prime time. That paradigm is ready for prime time, in my view.  LEE: Yeah, there are some good products, but it seems like the number one use right now—and we kind of got this from some of the previous guests in previous episodes—is the use of AI just to respond to emails from patients. [LAUGHTER] Does that make sense to you?  BUBECK: Yeah. So maybe I want to second what Bill was saying but maybe take a step back first. You know, two years ago, like, the concept of clinical scribes, which is one of the things that we’re talking about right now, it would have sounded, in fact, it sounded two years ago, borderline dangerous. Because everybody was worried about hallucinations. What happened if you have this AI listening in and then it transcribes, you know, something wrong?  Now, two years later, I think it’s mostly working. And in fact, it is not yet, you know, fully adopted. You’re right. But it is in production. It is used, you know, in many, many places. So this rate of progress is astounding because it wasn’t obvious that we would be able to overcome those obstacles of hallucination. It’s not to say that hallucinations are fully solved. In the case of the closed system, they are.   Now, I think more generally what’s going on in the background is that there is something that we, that certainly I, underestimated, which is this management overhead. So I think the reason why this is not adopted everywhere is really a training and teaching aspect. People need to be taught, like, those systems, how to interact with them.  And one example that I really like, a study that recently appeared where they tried to use ChatGPT for diagnosis and they were comparing doctors without and with ChatGPT (opens in new tab). And the amazing thing … so this was a set of cases where the accuracy of the doctors alone was around 75%. ChatGPT alone was 90%. So that’s already kind of mind blowing. But then the kicker is that doctors with ChatGPT was 80%.   Intelligence alone is not enough. It’s also how it’s presented, how you interact with it. And ChatGPT, it’s an amazing tool. Obviously, I absolutely love it. But it’s not … you don’t want a doctor to have to type in, you know, prompts and use it that way.  It should be, as Bill was saying, kind of running continuously in the background, sending you notifications. And you have to be really careful of the rate at which those notifications are being sent. Because if they are too frequent, then the doctor will learn to ignore them. So you have to … all of those things matter, in fact, at least as much as the level of intelligence of the machine.  LEE: One of the things I think about, Bill, in that scenario that you described, doctors do some thinking about the patient when they write the note. So, you know, I’m always a little uncertain whether it’s actually … you know, you wouldn’t necessarily want to fully automate this, I don’t think. Or at least there needs to be some prompt to the doctor to make sure that the doctor puts some thought into what happened in the encounter with the patient. Does that make sense to you at all?  GATES: At this stage, you know, I’d still put the onus on the doctor to write the conclusions and the summary and not delegate that.  The tradeoffs you make a little bit are somewhat dependent on the situation you’re in. If you’re in Africa, So, yes, the doctor’s still going to have to do a lot of work, but just the quality of letting the patient and the people around them interact and ask questions and have things explained, that alone is such a quality improvement. It’s mind blowing.   LEE: So since you mentioned, you know, Africa—and, of course, this touches on the mission and some of the priorities of the Gates Foundation and this idea of democratization of access to expert medical care—what’s the most interesting stuff going on right now? Are there people and organizations or technologies that are impressing you or that you’re tracking?  GATES: Yeah. So the Gates Foundation has given out a lot of grants to people in Africa doing education, agriculture but more healthcare examples than anything. And the way these things start off, they often start out either being patient-centric in a narrow situation, like, OK, I’m a pregnant woman; talk to me. Or, I have infectious disease symptoms; talk to me. Or they’re connected to a health worker where they’re helping that worker get their job done. And we have lots of pilots out, you know, in both of those cases.   The dream would be eventually to have the thing the patient consults be so broad that it’s like having a doctor available who understands the local things.   LEE: Right.   GATES: We’re not there yet. But over the next two or three years, you know, particularly given the worsening financial constraints against African health systems, where the withdrawal of money has been dramatic, you know, figuring out how to take this—what I sometimes call “free intelligence”—and build a quality health system around that, we will have to be more radical in low-income countries than any rich country is ever going to be.   LEE: Also, there’s maybe a different regulatory environment, so some of those things maybe are easier? Because right now, I think the world hasn’t figured out how to and whether to regulate, let’s say, an AI that might give a medical diagnosis or write a prescription for a medication.  BUBECK: Yeah. I think one issue with this, and it’s also slowing down the deployment of AI in healthcare more generally, is a lack of proper benchmark. Because, you know, you were mentioning the USMLE [United States Medical Licensing Examination], for example. That’s a great test to test human beings and their knowledge of healthcare and medicine. But it’s not a great test to give to an AI.  It’s not asking the right questions. So finding what are the right questions to test whether an AI system is ready to give diagnosis in a constrained setting, that’s a very, very important direction, which to my surprise, is not yet accelerating at the rate that I was hoping for.  LEE: OK, so that gives me an excuse to get more now into the core AI tech because something I’ve discussed with both of you is this issue of what are the right tests. And you both know the very first test I give to any new spin of an LLM is I present a patient, the results—a mythical patient—the results of my physical exam, my mythical physical exam. Maybe some results of some initial labs. And then I present or propose a differential diagnosis. And if you’re not in medicine, a differential diagnosis you can just think of as a prioritized list of the possible diagnoses that fit with all that data. And in that proposed differential, I always intentionally make two mistakes.  I make a textbook technical error in one of the possible elements of the differential diagnosis, and I have an error of omission. And, you know, I just want to know, does the LLM understand what I’m talking about? And all the good ones out there do now. But then I want to know, can it spot the errors? And then most importantly, is it willing to tell me I’m wrong, that I’ve made a mistake?   That last piece seems really hard for AI today. And so let me ask you first, Seb, because at the time of this taping, of course, there was a new spin of GPT-4o last week that became overly sycophantic. In other words, it was actually prone in that test of mine not only to not tell me I’m wrong, but it actually praised me for the creativity of my differential. [LAUGHTER] What’s up with that?  BUBECK: Yeah, I guess it’s a testament to the fact that training those models is still more of an art than a science. So it’s a difficult job. Just to be clear with the audience, we have rolled back that [LAUGHS] version of GPT-4o, so now we don’t have the sycophant version out there.  Yeah, no, it’s a really difficult question. It has to do … as you said, it’s very technical. It has to do with the post-training and how, like, where do you nudge the model? So, you know, there is this very classical by now technique called RLHF [reinforcement learning from human feedback], where you push the model in the direction of a certain reward model. So the reward model is just telling the model, you know, what behavior is good, what behavior is bad.  But this reward model is itself an LLM, and, you know, Bill was saying at the very beginning of the conversation that we don’t really understand how those LLMs deal with concepts like, you know, where is the capital of France located? Things like that. It is the same thing for this reward model. We don’t know why it says that it prefers one output to another, and whether this is correlated with some sycophancy is, you know, something that we discovered basically just now. That if you push too hard in optimization on this reward model, you will get a sycophant model.  So it’s kind of … what I’m trying to say is we became too good at what we were doing, and we ended up, in fact, in a trap of the reward model.  LEE: I mean, you do want … it’s a difficult balance because you do want models to follow your desires and …  BUBECK: It’s a very difficult, very difficult balance.  LEE: So this brings up then the following question for me, which is the extent to which we think we’ll need to have specially trained models for things. So let me start with you, Bill. Do you have a point of view on whether we will need to, you know, quote-unquote take AI models to med school? Have them specially trained? Like, if you were going to deploy something to give medical care in underserved parts of the world, do we need to do something special to create those models?  GATES: We certainly need to teach them the African languages and the unique dialects so that the multimedia interactions are very high quality. We certainly need to teach them the disease prevalence and unique disease patterns like, you know, neglected tropical diseases and malaria. So we need to gather a set of facts that somebody trying to go for a US customer base, you know, wouldn’t necessarily have that in there.  Those two things are actually very straightforward because the additional training time is small. I’d say for the next few years, we’ll also need to do reinforcement learning about the context of being a doctor and how important certain behaviors are. Humans learn over the course of their life to some degree that, I’m in a different context and the way I behave in terms of being willing to criticize or be nice, you know, how important is it? Who’s here? What’s my relationship to them?   Right now, these machines don’t have that broad social experience. And so if you know it’s going to be used for health things, a lot of reinforcement learning of the very best humans in that context would still be valuable. Eventually, the models will, having read all the literature of the world about good doctors, bad doctors, it’ll understand as soon as you say, “I want you to be a doctor diagnosing somebody.” All of the implicit reinforcement that fits that situation, you know, will be there. LEE: Yeah. GATES: And so I hope three years from now, we don’t have to do that reinforcement learning. But today, for any medical context, you would want a lot of data to reinforce tone, willingness to say things when, you know, there might be something significant at stake.  LEE: Yeah. So, you know, something Bill said, kind of, reminds me of another thing that I think we missed, which is, the context also … and the specialization also pertains to different, I guess, what we still call “modes,” although I don’t know if the idea of multimodal is the same as it was two years ago. But, you know, what do you make of all of the hubbub around—in fact, within Microsoft Research, this is a big deal, but I think we’re far from alone—you know, medical images and vision, video, proteins and molecules, cell, you know, cellular data and so on.  BUBECK: Yeah. OK. So there is a lot to say to everything … to the last, you know, couple of minutes. Maybe on the specialization aspect, you know, I think there is, hiding behind this, a really fundamental scientific question of whether eventually we have a singular AGI [artificial general intelligence] that kind of knows everything and you can just put, you know, explain your own context and it will just get it and understand everything.  That’s one vision. I have to say, I don’t particularly believe in this vision. In fact, we humans are not like that at all. I think, hopefully, we are general intelligences, yet we have to specialize a lot. And, you know, I did myself a lot of RL, reinforcement learning, on mathematics. Like, that’s what I did, you know, spent a lot of time doing that. And I didn’t improve on other aspects. You know, in fact, I probably degraded in other aspects. [LAUGHTER] So it’s … I think it’s an important example to have in mind.  LEE: I think I might disagree with you on that, though, because, like, doesn’t a model have to see both good science and bad science in order to be able to gain the ability to discern between the two?  BUBECK: Yeah, no, that absolutely. I think there is value in seeing the generality, in having a very broad base. But then you, kind of, specialize on verticals. And this is where also, you know, open-weights model, which we haven’t talked about yet, are really important because they allow you to provide this broad base to everyone. And then you can specialize on top of it.  LEE: So we have about three hours of stuff to talk about, but our time is actually running low. BUBECK: Yes, yes, yes.   LEE: So I think I want … there’s a more provocative question. It’s almost a silly question, but I need to ask it of the two of you, which is, is there a future, you know, where AI replaces doctors or replaces, you know, medical specialties that we have today? So what does the world look like, say, five years from now?  GATES: Well, it’s important to distinguish healthcare discovery activity from healthcare delivery activity. We focused mostly on delivery. I think it’s very much within the realm of possibility that the AI is not only accelerating healthcare discovery but substituting for a lot of the roles of, you know, I’m an organic chemist, or I run various types of assays. I can see those, which are, you know, testable-output-type jobs but with still very high value, I can see, you know, some replacement in those areas before the doctor.   The doctor, still understanding the human condition and long-term dialogues, you know, they’ve had a lifetime of reinforcement of that, particularly when you get into areas like mental health. So I wouldn’t say in five years, either people will choose to adopt it, but it will be profound that there’ll be this nearly free intelligence that can do follow-up, that can help you, you know, make sure you went through different possibilities.  And so I’d say, yes, we’ll have doctors, but I’d say healthcare will be massively transformed in its quality and in efficiency by AI in that time period.  LEE: Is there a comparison, useful comparison, say, between doctors and, say, programmers, computer programmers, or doctors and, I don’t know, lawyers?  GATES: Programming is another one that has, kind of, a mathematical correctness to it, you know, and so the objective function that you’re trying to reinforce to, as soon as you can understand the state machines, you can have something that’s “checkable”; that’s correct. So I think programming, you know, which is weird to say, that the machine will beat us at most programming tasks before we let it take over roles that have deep empathy, you know, physical presence and social understanding in them.  LEE: Yeah. By the way, you know, I fully expect in five years that AI will produce mathematical proofs that are checkable for validity, easily checkable, because they’ll be written in a proof-checking language like Lean or something but will be so complex that no human mathematician can understand them. I expect that to happen.   I can imagine in some fields, like cellular biology, we could have the same situation in the future because the molecular pathways, the chemistry, biochemistry of human cells or living cells is as complex as any mathematics, and so it seems possible that we may be in a state where in wet lab, we see, Oh yeah, this actually works, but no one can understand why.  BUBECK: Yeah, absolutely. I mean, I think I really agree with Bill’s distinction of the discovery and the delivery, and indeed, the discovery’s when you can check things, and at the end, there is an artifact that you can verify. You know, you can run the protocol in the wet lab and see [if you have] produced what you wanted. So I absolutely agree with that.   And in fact, you know, we don’t have to talk five years from now. I don’t know if you know, but just recently, there was a paper that was published on a scientific discovery using o3- mini (opens in new tab). So this is really amazing. And, you know, just very quickly, just so people know, it was about this statistical physics model, the frustrated Potts model, which has to do with coloring, and basically, the case of three colors, like, more than two colors was open for a long time, and o3 was able to reduce the case of three colors to two colors.   LEE: Yeah.  BUBECK: Which is just, like, astounding. And this is not … this is now. This is happening right now. So this is something that I personally didn’t expect it would happen so quickly, and it’s due to those reasoning models.   Now, on the delivery side, I would add something more to it for the reason why doctors and, in fact, lawyers and coders will remain for a long time, and it’s because we still don’t understand how those models generalize. Like, at the end of the day, we are not able to tell you when they are confronted with a really new, novel situation, whether they will work or not.  Nobody is able to give you that guarantee. And I think until we understand this generalization better, we’re not going to be willing to just let the system in the wild without human supervision.  LEE: But don’t human doctors, human specialists … so, for example, a cardiologist sees a patient in a certain way that a nephrologist …  BUBECK: Yeah. LEE: … or an endocrinologist might not. BUBECK: That’s right. But another cardiologist will understand and, kind of, expect a certain level of generalization from their peer. And this, we just don’t have it with AI models. Now, of course, you’re exactly right. That generalization is also hard for humans. Like, if you have a human trained for one task and you put them into another task, then you don’t … you often don’t know. LEE: OK. You know, the podcast is focused on what’s happened over the last two years. But now, I’d like one provocative prediction about what you think the world of AI and medicine is going to be at some point in the future. You pick your timeframe. I don’t care if it’s two years or 20 years from now, but, you know, what do you think will be different about AI in medicine in that future than today?  BUBECK: Yeah, I think the deployment is going to accelerate soon. Like, we’re really not missing very much. There is this enormous capability overhang. Like, even if progress completely stopped, with current systems, we can do a lot more than what we’re doing right now. So I think this will … this has to be realized, you know, sooner rather than later.  And I think it’s probably dependent on these benchmarks and proper evaluation and tying this with regulation. So these are things that take time in human society and for good reason. But now we already are at two years; you know, give it another two years and it should be really …   LEE: Will AI prescribe your medicines? Write your prescriptions?  BUBECK: I think yes. I think yes.  LEE: OK. Bill?  GATES: Well, I think the next two years, we’ll have massive pilots, and so the amount of use of the AI, still in a copilot-type mode, you know, we should get millions of patient visits, you know, both in general medicine and in the mental health side, as well. And I think that’s going to build up both the data and the confidence to give the AI some additional autonomy. You know, are you going to let it talk to you at night when you’re panicked about your mental health with some ability to escalate? And, you know, I’ve gone so far as to tell politicians with national health systems that if they deploy AI appropriately, that the quality of care, the overload of the doctors, the improvement in the economics will be enough that their voters will be stunned because they just don’t expect this, and, you know, they could be reelected [LAUGHTER] just on this one thing of fixing what is a very overloaded and economically challenged health system in these rich countries.  You know, my personal role is going to be to make sure that in the poorer countries, there isn’t some lag; in fact, in many cases, that we’ll be more aggressive because, you know, we’re comparing to having no access to doctors at all. And, you know, so I think whether it’s India or Africa, there’ll be lessons that are globally valuable because we need medical intelligence. And, you know, thank god AI is going to provide a lot of that.  LEE: Well, on that optimistic note, I think that’s a good way to end. Bill, Seb, really appreciate all of this.   I think the most fundamental prediction we made in the book is that AI would actually find its way into the practice of medicine, and I think that that at least has come true, maybe in different ways than we expected, but it’s come true, and I think it’ll only accelerate from here. So thanks again, both of you.  [TRANSITION MUSIC]  GATES: Yeah. Thanks, you guys.  BUBECK: Thank you, Peter. Thanks, Bill.  LEE: I just always feel such a sense of privilege to have a chance to interact and actually work with people like Bill and Sébastien.    With Bill, I’m always amazed at how practically minded he is. He’s really thinking about the nuts and bolts of what AI might be able to do for people, and his thoughts about underserved parts of the world, the idea that we might actually be able to empower people with access to expert medical knowledge, I think is both inspiring and amazing.   And then, Seb, Sébastien Bubeck, he’s just absolutely a brilliant mind. He has a really firm grip on the deep mathematics of artificial intelligence and brings that to bear in his research and development work. And where that mathematics takes him isn’t just into the nuts and bolts of algorithms but into philosophical questions about the nature of intelligence.   One of the things that Sébastien brought up was the state of evaluation of AI systems. And indeed, he was fairly critical in our conversation. But of course, the world of AI research and development is just moving so fast, and indeed, since we recorded our conversation, OpenAI, in fact, released a new evaluation metric that is directly relevant to medical applications, and that is something called HealthBench. And Microsoft Research also released a new evaluation approach or process called ADeLe.   HealthBench and ADeLe are examples of new approaches to evaluating AI models that are less about testing their knowledge and ability to pass multiple-choice exams and instead are evaluation approaches designed to assess how well AI models are able to complete tasks that actually arise every day in typical healthcare or biomedical research settings. These are examples of really important good work that speak to how well AI models work in the real world of healthcare and biomedical research and how well they can collaborate with human beings in those settings.  You know, I asked Bill and Seb to make some predictions about the future. You know, my own answer, I expect that we’re going to be able to use AI to change how we diagnose patients, change how we decide treatment options.   If you’re a doctor or a nurse and you encounter a patient, you’ll ask questions, do a physical exam, you know, call out for labs just like you do today, but then you’ll be able to engage with AI based on all of that data and just ask, you know, based on all the other people who have gone through the same experience, who have similar data, how were they diagnosed? How were they treated? What were their outcomes? And what does that mean for the patient I have right now? Some people call it the “patients like me” paradigm. And I think that’s going to become real because of AI within our lifetimes. That idea of really grounding the delivery in healthcare and medical practice through data and intelligence, I actually now don’t see any barriers to that future becoming real.  [THEME MUSIC]  I’d like to extend another big thank you to Bill and Sébastien for their time. And to our listeners, as always, it’s a pleasure to have you along for the ride. I hope you’ll join us for our remaining conversations, as well as a second coauthor roundtable with Carey and Zak.   Until next time.   [MUSIC FADES]
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  • Trump’s military parade is a warning

    Donald Trump’s military parade in Washington this weekend — a show of force in the capital that just happens to take place on the president’s birthday — smacks of authoritarian Dear Leader-style politics.Yet as disconcerting as the imagery of tanks rolling down Constitution Avenue will be, it’s not even close to Trump’s most insidious assault on the US military’s historic and democratically essential nonpartisan ethos.In fact, it’s not even the most worrying thing he’s done this week.On Tuesday, the president gave a speech at Fort Bragg, an Army base home to Special Operations Command. While presidential speeches to soldiers are not uncommon — rows of uniformed troops make a great backdrop for a foreign policy speech — they generally avoid overt partisan attacks and campaign-style rhetoric. The soldiers, for their part, are expected to be studiously neutral, laughing at jokes and such, but remaining fully impassive during any policy conversation.That’s not what happened at Fort Bragg. Trump’s speech was a partisan tirade that targeted “radical left” opponents ranging from Joe Biden to Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass. He celebrated his deployment of Marines to Los Angeles, proposed jailing people for burning the American flag, and called on soldiers to be “aggressive” toward the protesters they encountered.The soldiers, for their part, cheered Trump and booed his enemies — as they were seemingly expected to. Reporters at Military.com, a military news service, uncovered internal communications from 82nd Airborne leadership suggesting that the crowd was screened for their political opinions.“If soldiers have political views that are in opposition to the current administration and they don’t want to be in the audience then they need to speak with their leadership and get swapped out,” one note read.To call this unusual is an understatement. I spoke with four different experts on civil-military relations, two of whom teach at the Naval War College, about the speech and its implications. To a person, they said it was a step towards politicizing the military with no real precedent in modern American history.“That is, I think, a really big red flag because it means the military’s professional ethic is breaking down internally,” says Risa Brooks, a professor at Marquette University. “Its capacity to maintain that firewall against civilian politicization may be faltering.”This may sound alarmist — like an overreading of a one-off incident — but it’s part of a bigger pattern. The totality of Trump administration policies, ranging from the parade in Washington to the LA troop deployment to Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth’s firing of high-ranking women and officers of color, suggests a concerted effort to erode the military’s professional ethos and turn it into an institution subservient to the Trump administration’s whims. This is a signal policy aim of would-be dictators, who wish to head off the risk of a coup and ensure the armed forces’ political reliability if they are needed to repress dissent in a crisis.Steve Saideman, a professor at Carleton University, put together a list of eight different signs that a military is being politicized in this fashion. The Trump administration has exhibited six out of the eight.“The biggest theme is that we are seeing a number of checks on the executive fail at the same time — and that’s what’s making individual events seem more alarming than they might otherwise,” says Jessica Blankshain, a professor at the Naval War College.That Trump is trying to politicize the military does not mean he has succeeded. There are several signs, including Trump’s handpicked chair of the Joint Chiefs repudiating the president’s claims of a migrant invasion during congressional testimony, that the US military is resisting Trump’s politicization.But the events in Fort Bragg and Washington suggest that we are in the midst of a quiet crisis in civil-military relations in the United States — one whose implications for American democracy’s future could well be profound.The Trump crisis in civil-military relations, explainedA military is, by sheer fact of its existence, a threat to any civilian government. If you have an institution that controls the overwhelming bulk of weaponry in a society, it always has the physical capacity to seize control of the government at gunpoint. A key question for any government is how to convince the armed forces that they cannot or should not take power for themselves.Democracies typically do this through a process called “professionalization.” Soldiers are rigorously taught to think of themselves as a class of public servants, people trained to perform a specific job within defined parameters. Their ultimate loyalty is not to their generals or even individual presidents, but rather to the people and the constitutional order.Samuel Huntington, the late Harvard political scientist, is the canonical theorist of a professional military. In his book The Soldier and the State, he described optimal professionalization as a system of “objective control”: one in which the military retains autonomy in how they fight and plan for wars while deferring to politicians on whether and why to fight in the first place. In effect, they stay out of the politicians’ affairs while the politicians stay out of theirs.The idea of such a system is to emphasize to the military that they are professionals: Their responsibility isn’t deciding when to use force, but only to conduct operations as effectively as possible once ordered to engage in them. There is thus a strict firewall between military affairs, on the one hand, and policy-political affairs on the other.Typically, the chief worry is that the military breaches this bargain: that, for example, a general starts speaking out against elected officials’ policies in ways that undermine civilian control. This is not a hypothetical fear in the United States, with the most famous such example being Gen. Douglas MacArthur’s insubordination during the Korean War. Thankfully, not even MacArthur attempted the worst-case version of military overstep — a coup.But in backsliding democracies like the modern United States, where the chief executive is attempting an anti-democratic power grab, the military poses a very different kind of threat to democracy — in fact, something akin to the exact opposite of the typical scenario.In such cases, the issue isn’t the military inserting itself into politics but rather the civilians dragging them into it in ways that upset the democratic political order. The worst-case scenario is that the military acts on presidential directives to use force against domestic dissenters, destroying democracy not by ignoring civilian orders, but by following them.There are two ways to arrive at such a worst-case scenario, both of which are in evidence in the early days of Trump 2.0.First is politicization: an intentional attack on the constraints against partisan activity inside the professional ranks.Many of Pete Hegseth’s major moves as secretary of defense fit this bill, including his decisions to fire nonwhite and female generals seen as politically unreliable and his effort to undermine the independence of the military’s lawyers. The breaches in protocol at Fort Bragg are both consequences and causes of politicization: They could only happen in an environment of loosened constraint, and they might encourage more overt political action if gone unpunished.The second pathway to breakdown is the weaponization of professionalism against itself. Here, Trump exploits the military’s deference to politicians by ordering it to engage in undemocraticactivities. In practice, this looks a lot like the LA deployments, and, more specifically, the lack of any visible military pushback. While the military readily agreeing to deployments is normally a good sign — that civilian control is holding — these aren’t normal times. And this isn’t a normal deployment, but rather one that comes uncomfortably close to the military being ordered to assist in repressing overwhelmingly peaceful demonstrations against executive abuses of power.“It’s really been pretty uncommon to use the military for law enforcement,” says David Burbach, another Naval War College professor. “This is really bringing the military into frontline law enforcement when. … these are really not huge disturbances.”This, then, is the crisis: an incremental and slow-rolling effort by the Trump administration to erode the norms and procedures designed to prevent the military from being used as a tool of domestic repression. Is it time to panic?Among the experts I spoke with, there was consensus that the military’s professional and nonpartisan ethos was weakening. This isn’t just because of Trump, but his terms — the first to a degree, and now the second acutely — are major stressors.Yet there was no consensus on just how much military nonpartisanship has eroded — that is, how close we are to a moment when the US military might be willing to follow obviously authoritarian orders.For all its faults, the US military’s professional ethos is a really important part of its identity and self-conception. While few soldiers may actually read Sam Huntington or similar scholars, the general idea that they serve the people and the republic is a bedrock principle among the ranks. There is a reason why the United States has never, in over 250 years of governance, experienced a military coup — or even come particularly close to one.In theory, this ethos should also galvanize resistance to Trump’s efforts at politicization. Soldiers are not unthinking automatons: While they are trained to follow commands, they are explicitly obligated to refuse illegal orders, even coming from the president. The more aggressive Trump’s efforts to use the military as a tool of repression gets, the more likely there is to be resistance.Or, at least theoretically.The truth is that we don’t really know how the US military will respond to a situation like this. Like so many of Trump’s second-term policies, their efforts to bend the military to their will are unprecedented — actions with no real parallel in the modern history of the American military. Experts can only make informed guesses, based on their sense of US military culture as well as comparisons to historical and foreign cases.For this reason, there are probably only two things we can say with confidence.First, what we’ve seen so far is not yet sufficient evidence to declare that the military is in Trump’s thrall. The signs of decay are too limited to ground any conclusions that the longstanding professional norm is entirely gone.“We have seen a few things that are potentially alarming about erosion of the military’s non-partisan norm. But not in a way that’s definitive at this point,” Blankshain says.Second, the stressors on this tradition are going to keep piling on. Trump’s record makes it exceptionally clear that he wants the military to serve him personally — and that he, and Hegseth, will keep working to make it so. This means we really are in the midst of a quiet crisis, and will likely remain so for the foreseeable future.“The fact that he’s getting the troops to cheer for booing Democratic leaders at a time when there’s actuallya blue city and a blue state…he is ordering the troops to take a side,” Saideman says. “There may not be a coherent plan behind this. But there are a lot of things going on that are all in the same direction.”See More: Politics
    #trumpampamp8217s #military #parade #warning
    Trump’s military parade is a warning
    Donald Trump’s military parade in Washington this weekend — a show of force in the capital that just happens to take place on the president’s birthday — smacks of authoritarian Dear Leader-style politics.Yet as disconcerting as the imagery of tanks rolling down Constitution Avenue will be, it’s not even close to Trump’s most insidious assault on the US military’s historic and democratically essential nonpartisan ethos.In fact, it’s not even the most worrying thing he’s done this week.On Tuesday, the president gave a speech at Fort Bragg, an Army base home to Special Operations Command. While presidential speeches to soldiers are not uncommon — rows of uniformed troops make a great backdrop for a foreign policy speech — they generally avoid overt partisan attacks and campaign-style rhetoric. The soldiers, for their part, are expected to be studiously neutral, laughing at jokes and such, but remaining fully impassive during any policy conversation.That’s not what happened at Fort Bragg. Trump’s speech was a partisan tirade that targeted “radical left” opponents ranging from Joe Biden to Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass. He celebrated his deployment of Marines to Los Angeles, proposed jailing people for burning the American flag, and called on soldiers to be “aggressive” toward the protesters they encountered.The soldiers, for their part, cheered Trump and booed his enemies — as they were seemingly expected to. Reporters at Military.com, a military news service, uncovered internal communications from 82nd Airborne leadership suggesting that the crowd was screened for their political opinions.“If soldiers have political views that are in opposition to the current administration and they don’t want to be in the audience then they need to speak with their leadership and get swapped out,” one note read.To call this unusual is an understatement. I spoke with four different experts on civil-military relations, two of whom teach at the Naval War College, about the speech and its implications. To a person, they said it was a step towards politicizing the military with no real precedent in modern American history.“That is, I think, a really big red flag because it means the military’s professional ethic is breaking down internally,” says Risa Brooks, a professor at Marquette University. “Its capacity to maintain that firewall against civilian politicization may be faltering.”This may sound alarmist — like an overreading of a one-off incident — but it’s part of a bigger pattern. The totality of Trump administration policies, ranging from the parade in Washington to the LA troop deployment to Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth’s firing of high-ranking women and officers of color, suggests a concerted effort to erode the military’s professional ethos and turn it into an institution subservient to the Trump administration’s whims. This is a signal policy aim of would-be dictators, who wish to head off the risk of a coup and ensure the armed forces’ political reliability if they are needed to repress dissent in a crisis.Steve Saideman, a professor at Carleton University, put together a list of eight different signs that a military is being politicized in this fashion. The Trump administration has exhibited six out of the eight.“The biggest theme is that we are seeing a number of checks on the executive fail at the same time — and that’s what’s making individual events seem more alarming than they might otherwise,” says Jessica Blankshain, a professor at the Naval War College.That Trump is trying to politicize the military does not mean he has succeeded. There are several signs, including Trump’s handpicked chair of the Joint Chiefs repudiating the president’s claims of a migrant invasion during congressional testimony, that the US military is resisting Trump’s politicization.But the events in Fort Bragg and Washington suggest that we are in the midst of a quiet crisis in civil-military relations in the United States — one whose implications for American democracy’s future could well be profound.The Trump crisis in civil-military relations, explainedA military is, by sheer fact of its existence, a threat to any civilian government. If you have an institution that controls the overwhelming bulk of weaponry in a society, it always has the physical capacity to seize control of the government at gunpoint. A key question for any government is how to convince the armed forces that they cannot or should not take power for themselves.Democracies typically do this through a process called “professionalization.” Soldiers are rigorously taught to think of themselves as a class of public servants, people trained to perform a specific job within defined parameters. Their ultimate loyalty is not to their generals or even individual presidents, but rather to the people and the constitutional order.Samuel Huntington, the late Harvard political scientist, is the canonical theorist of a professional military. In his book The Soldier and the State, he described optimal professionalization as a system of “objective control”: one in which the military retains autonomy in how they fight and plan for wars while deferring to politicians on whether and why to fight in the first place. In effect, they stay out of the politicians’ affairs while the politicians stay out of theirs.The idea of such a system is to emphasize to the military that they are professionals: Their responsibility isn’t deciding when to use force, but only to conduct operations as effectively as possible once ordered to engage in them. There is thus a strict firewall between military affairs, on the one hand, and policy-political affairs on the other.Typically, the chief worry is that the military breaches this bargain: that, for example, a general starts speaking out against elected officials’ policies in ways that undermine civilian control. This is not a hypothetical fear in the United States, with the most famous such example being Gen. Douglas MacArthur’s insubordination during the Korean War. Thankfully, not even MacArthur attempted the worst-case version of military overstep — a coup.But in backsliding democracies like the modern United States, where the chief executive is attempting an anti-democratic power grab, the military poses a very different kind of threat to democracy — in fact, something akin to the exact opposite of the typical scenario.In such cases, the issue isn’t the military inserting itself into politics but rather the civilians dragging them into it in ways that upset the democratic political order. The worst-case scenario is that the military acts on presidential directives to use force against domestic dissenters, destroying democracy not by ignoring civilian orders, but by following them.There are two ways to arrive at such a worst-case scenario, both of which are in evidence in the early days of Trump 2.0.First is politicization: an intentional attack on the constraints against partisan activity inside the professional ranks.Many of Pete Hegseth’s major moves as secretary of defense fit this bill, including his decisions to fire nonwhite and female generals seen as politically unreliable and his effort to undermine the independence of the military’s lawyers. The breaches in protocol at Fort Bragg are both consequences and causes of politicization: They could only happen in an environment of loosened constraint, and they might encourage more overt political action if gone unpunished.The second pathway to breakdown is the weaponization of professionalism against itself. Here, Trump exploits the military’s deference to politicians by ordering it to engage in undemocraticactivities. In practice, this looks a lot like the LA deployments, and, more specifically, the lack of any visible military pushback. While the military readily agreeing to deployments is normally a good sign — that civilian control is holding — these aren’t normal times. And this isn’t a normal deployment, but rather one that comes uncomfortably close to the military being ordered to assist in repressing overwhelmingly peaceful demonstrations against executive abuses of power.“It’s really been pretty uncommon to use the military for law enforcement,” says David Burbach, another Naval War College professor. “This is really bringing the military into frontline law enforcement when. … these are really not huge disturbances.”This, then, is the crisis: an incremental and slow-rolling effort by the Trump administration to erode the norms and procedures designed to prevent the military from being used as a tool of domestic repression. Is it time to panic?Among the experts I spoke with, there was consensus that the military’s professional and nonpartisan ethos was weakening. This isn’t just because of Trump, but his terms — the first to a degree, and now the second acutely — are major stressors.Yet there was no consensus on just how much military nonpartisanship has eroded — that is, how close we are to a moment when the US military might be willing to follow obviously authoritarian orders.For all its faults, the US military’s professional ethos is a really important part of its identity and self-conception. While few soldiers may actually read Sam Huntington or similar scholars, the general idea that they serve the people and the republic is a bedrock principle among the ranks. There is a reason why the United States has never, in over 250 years of governance, experienced a military coup — or even come particularly close to one.In theory, this ethos should also galvanize resistance to Trump’s efforts at politicization. Soldiers are not unthinking automatons: While they are trained to follow commands, they are explicitly obligated to refuse illegal orders, even coming from the president. The more aggressive Trump’s efforts to use the military as a tool of repression gets, the more likely there is to be resistance.Or, at least theoretically.The truth is that we don’t really know how the US military will respond to a situation like this. Like so many of Trump’s second-term policies, their efforts to bend the military to their will are unprecedented — actions with no real parallel in the modern history of the American military. Experts can only make informed guesses, based on their sense of US military culture as well as comparisons to historical and foreign cases.For this reason, there are probably only two things we can say with confidence.First, what we’ve seen so far is not yet sufficient evidence to declare that the military is in Trump’s thrall. The signs of decay are too limited to ground any conclusions that the longstanding professional norm is entirely gone.“We have seen a few things that are potentially alarming about erosion of the military’s non-partisan norm. But not in a way that’s definitive at this point,” Blankshain says.Second, the stressors on this tradition are going to keep piling on. Trump’s record makes it exceptionally clear that he wants the military to serve him personally — and that he, and Hegseth, will keep working to make it so. This means we really are in the midst of a quiet crisis, and will likely remain so for the foreseeable future.“The fact that he’s getting the troops to cheer for booing Democratic leaders at a time when there’s actuallya blue city and a blue state…he is ordering the troops to take a side,” Saideman says. “There may not be a coherent plan behind this. But there are a lot of things going on that are all in the same direction.”See More: Politics #trumpampamp8217s #military #parade #warning
    WWW.VOX.COM
    Trump’s military parade is a warning
    Donald Trump’s military parade in Washington this weekend — a show of force in the capital that just happens to take place on the president’s birthday — smacks of authoritarian Dear Leader-style politics (even though Trump actually got the idea after attending the 2017 Bastille Day parade in Paris).Yet as disconcerting as the imagery of tanks rolling down Constitution Avenue will be, it’s not even close to Trump’s most insidious assault on the US military’s historic and democratically essential nonpartisan ethos.In fact, it’s not even the most worrying thing he’s done this week.On Tuesday, the president gave a speech at Fort Bragg, an Army base home to Special Operations Command. While presidential speeches to soldiers are not uncommon — rows of uniformed troops make a great backdrop for a foreign policy speech — they generally avoid overt partisan attacks and campaign-style rhetoric. The soldiers, for their part, are expected to be studiously neutral, laughing at jokes and such, but remaining fully impassive during any policy conversation.That’s not what happened at Fort Bragg. Trump’s speech was a partisan tirade that targeted “radical left” opponents ranging from Joe Biden to Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass. He celebrated his deployment of Marines to Los Angeles, proposed jailing people for burning the American flag, and called on soldiers to be “aggressive” toward the protesters they encountered.The soldiers, for their part, cheered Trump and booed his enemies — as they were seemingly expected to. Reporters at Military.com, a military news service, uncovered internal communications from 82nd Airborne leadership suggesting that the crowd was screened for their political opinions.“If soldiers have political views that are in opposition to the current administration and they don’t want to be in the audience then they need to speak with their leadership and get swapped out,” one note read.To call this unusual is an understatement. I spoke with four different experts on civil-military relations, two of whom teach at the Naval War College, about the speech and its implications. To a person, they said it was a step towards politicizing the military with no real precedent in modern American history.“That is, I think, a really big red flag because it means the military’s professional ethic is breaking down internally,” says Risa Brooks, a professor at Marquette University. “Its capacity to maintain that firewall against civilian politicization may be faltering.”This may sound alarmist — like an overreading of a one-off incident — but it’s part of a bigger pattern. The totality of Trump administration policies, ranging from the parade in Washington to the LA troop deployment to Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth’s firing of high-ranking women and officers of color, suggests a concerted effort to erode the military’s professional ethos and turn it into an institution subservient to the Trump administration’s whims. This is a signal policy aim of would-be dictators, who wish to head off the risk of a coup and ensure the armed forces’ political reliability if they are needed to repress dissent in a crisis.Steve Saideman, a professor at Carleton University, put together a list of eight different signs that a military is being politicized in this fashion. The Trump administration has exhibited six out of the eight.“The biggest theme is that we are seeing a number of checks on the executive fail at the same time — and that’s what’s making individual events seem more alarming than they might otherwise,” says Jessica Blankshain, a professor at the Naval War College (speaking not for the military but in a personal capacity).That Trump is trying to politicize the military does not mean he has succeeded. There are several signs, including Trump’s handpicked chair of the Joint Chiefs repudiating the president’s claims of a migrant invasion during congressional testimony, that the US military is resisting Trump’s politicization.But the events in Fort Bragg and Washington suggest that we are in the midst of a quiet crisis in civil-military relations in the United States — one whose implications for American democracy’s future could well be profound.The Trump crisis in civil-military relations, explainedA military is, by sheer fact of its existence, a threat to any civilian government. If you have an institution that controls the overwhelming bulk of weaponry in a society, it always has the physical capacity to seize control of the government at gunpoint. A key question for any government is how to convince the armed forces that they cannot or should not take power for themselves.Democracies typically do this through a process called “professionalization.” Soldiers are rigorously taught to think of themselves as a class of public servants, people trained to perform a specific job within defined parameters. Their ultimate loyalty is not to their generals or even individual presidents, but rather to the people and the constitutional order.Samuel Huntington, the late Harvard political scientist, is the canonical theorist of a professional military. In his book The Soldier and the State, he described optimal professionalization as a system of “objective control”: one in which the military retains autonomy in how they fight and plan for wars while deferring to politicians on whether and why to fight in the first place. In effect, they stay out of the politicians’ affairs while the politicians stay out of theirs.The idea of such a system is to emphasize to the military that they are professionals: Their responsibility isn’t deciding when to use force, but only to conduct operations as effectively as possible once ordered to engage in them. There is thus a strict firewall between military affairs, on the one hand, and policy-political affairs on the other.Typically, the chief worry is that the military breaches this bargain: that, for example, a general starts speaking out against elected officials’ policies in ways that undermine civilian control. This is not a hypothetical fear in the United States, with the most famous such example being Gen. Douglas MacArthur’s insubordination during the Korean War. Thankfully, not even MacArthur attempted the worst-case version of military overstep — a coup.But in backsliding democracies like the modern United States, where the chief executive is attempting an anti-democratic power grab, the military poses a very different kind of threat to democracy — in fact, something akin to the exact opposite of the typical scenario.In such cases, the issue isn’t the military inserting itself into politics but rather the civilians dragging them into it in ways that upset the democratic political order. The worst-case scenario is that the military acts on presidential directives to use force against domestic dissenters, destroying democracy not by ignoring civilian orders, but by following them.There are two ways to arrive at such a worst-case scenario, both of which are in evidence in the early days of Trump 2.0.First is politicization: an intentional attack on the constraints against partisan activity inside the professional ranks.Many of Pete Hegseth’s major moves as secretary of defense fit this bill, including his decisions to fire nonwhite and female generals seen as politically unreliable and his effort to undermine the independence of the military’s lawyers. The breaches in protocol at Fort Bragg are both consequences and causes of politicization: They could only happen in an environment of loosened constraint, and they might encourage more overt political action if gone unpunished.The second pathway to breakdown is the weaponization of professionalism against itself. Here, Trump exploits the military’s deference to politicians by ordering it to engage in undemocratic (and even questionably legal) activities. In practice, this looks a lot like the LA deployments, and, more specifically, the lack of any visible military pushback. While the military readily agreeing to deployments is normally a good sign — that civilian control is holding — these aren’t normal times. And this isn’t a normal deployment, but rather one that comes uncomfortably close to the military being ordered to assist in repressing overwhelmingly peaceful demonstrations against executive abuses of power.“It’s really been pretty uncommon to use the military for law enforcement,” says David Burbach, another Naval War College professor (also speaking personally). “This is really bringing the military into frontline law enforcement when. … these are really not huge disturbances.”This, then, is the crisis: an incremental and slow-rolling effort by the Trump administration to erode the norms and procedures designed to prevent the military from being used as a tool of domestic repression. Is it time to panic?Among the experts I spoke with, there was consensus that the military’s professional and nonpartisan ethos was weakening. This isn’t just because of Trump, but his terms — the first to a degree, and now the second acutely — are major stressors.Yet there was no consensus on just how much military nonpartisanship has eroded — that is, how close we are to a moment when the US military might be willing to follow obviously authoritarian orders.For all its faults, the US military’s professional ethos is a really important part of its identity and self-conception. While few soldiers may actually read Sam Huntington or similar scholars, the general idea that they serve the people and the republic is a bedrock principle among the ranks. There is a reason why the United States has never, in over 250 years of governance, experienced a military coup — or even come particularly close to one.In theory, this ethos should also galvanize resistance to Trump’s efforts at politicization. Soldiers are not unthinking automatons: While they are trained to follow commands, they are explicitly obligated to refuse illegal orders, even coming from the president. The more aggressive Trump’s efforts to use the military as a tool of repression gets, the more likely there is to be resistance.Or, at least theoretically.The truth is that we don’t really know how the US military will respond to a situation like this. Like so many of Trump’s second-term policies, their efforts to bend the military to their will are unprecedented — actions with no real parallel in the modern history of the American military. Experts can only make informed guesses, based on their sense of US military culture as well as comparisons to historical and foreign cases.For this reason, there are probably only two things we can say with confidence.First, what we’ve seen so far is not yet sufficient evidence to declare that the military is in Trump’s thrall. The signs of decay are too limited to ground any conclusions that the longstanding professional norm is entirely gone.“We have seen a few things that are potentially alarming about erosion of the military’s non-partisan norm. But not in a way that’s definitive at this point,” Blankshain says.Second, the stressors on this tradition are going to keep piling on. Trump’s record makes it exceptionally clear that he wants the military to serve him personally — and that he, and Hegseth, will keep working to make it so. This means we really are in the midst of a quiet crisis, and will likely remain so for the foreseeable future.“The fact that he’s getting the troops to cheer for booing Democratic leaders at a time when there’s actually [a deployment to] a blue city and a blue state…he is ordering the troops to take a side,” Saideman says. “There may not be a coherent plan behind this. But there are a lot of things going on that are all in the same direction.”See More: Politics
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  • A short history of the roadblock

    Barricades, as we know them today, are thought to date back to the European wars of religion. According to most historians, the first barricade went up in Paris in 1588; the word derives from the French barriques, or barrels, spontaneously put together. They have been assembled from the most diverse materials, from cobblestones, tyres, newspapers, dead horses and bags of ice, to omnibuses and e‑scooters. Their tactical logic is close to that of guerrilla warfare: the authorities have to take the barricades in order to claim victory; all that those manning them have to do to prevail is to hold them. 
    The 19th century was the golden age for blocking narrow, labyrinthine streets. Paris had seen barricades go up nine times in the period before the Second Empire; during the July 1830 Revolution alone, 4,000 barricades had been erected. These barricades would not only stop, but also trap troops; people would then throw stones from windows or pour boiling water onto the streets. Georges‑Eugène Haussmann, Napoleon III’s prefect of Paris, famously created wide boulevards to make blocking by barricade more difficult and moving the military easier, and replaced cobblestones with macadam – a surface of crushed stone. As Flaubert observed in his Dictionary of Accepted Ideas: ‘Macadam: has cancelled revolutions. No more means to make barricades. Nevertheless rather inconvenient.’  
    Lead image: Barricades, as we know them today, are thought to have originated in early modern France. A colour engraving attributed to Achille‑Louis Martinet depicts the defence of a barricade during the 1830 July Revolution. Credit: Paris Musées / Musée Carnavalet – Histoire de Paris. Above: the socialist political thinker and activist Louis Auguste Blanqui – who was imprisoned by every regime that ruled France between 1815 and 1880 – drew instructions for how to build an effective barricade

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

    2025-06-11
    Kristina Rapacki

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

    Elon Musk may be gone from the Trump administration — and his friendship status with President Donald Trump may be at best uncertain — but his whirlwind stint in government certainly left its imprint. The Department of Government Efficiency, his pet government-slashing project, remains entrenched in Washington. During his 130-day tenure, Musk led DOGE in eliminating about 260,000 federal employee jobs and gutting agencies supporting scientific research and humanitarian aid. But to date, DOGE claims to have saved the government billion — well short of its ambitioustarget of cutting at least trillion from the federal budget. And with Musk’s departure still fresh, there are reports that the federal government is trying to rehire federal workers who quit or were let go. For Elaine Kamarck, senior fellow at the Brookings Institution, DOGE’s tactics will likely end up being disastrous in the long run. “DOGE came in with these huge cuts, which were not attached to a plan,” she told Today, Explained co-host Sean Rameswaram. Kamarck knows all about making government more efficient. In the 1990s, she ran the Clinton administration’s Reinventing Government program. “I was Elon Musk,” she told Today, Explained. With the benefit of that experience, she assesses Musk’s record at DOGE, and what, if anything, the billionaire’s loud efforts at cutting government spending added up to. Below is an excerpt of the conversation, edited for length and clarity. There’s much more in the full podcast, so listen to Today, Explained wherever you get podcasts, including Apple Podcasts, Pandora, and Spotify.
    What do you think Elon Musk’s legacy is? Well, he will not have totally, radically reshaped the federal government. Absolutely not. In fact, there’s a high probability that on January 20, 2029, when the next president takes over, the federal government is about the same size as it is now, and is probably doing the same stuff that it’s doing now. What he did manage to do was insert chaos, fear, and loathing into the federal workforce. There was reporting in the Washington Post late last week that these cuts were so ineffective that the White House is actually reaching out to various federal employees who were laid off and asking them to come back, from the FDA to the IRS to even USAID. Which cuts are sticking at this point and which ones aren’t?First of all, in a lot of cases, people went to court and the courts have reversed those earlier decisions. So the first thing that happened is, courts said, “No, no, no, you can’t do it this way. You have to bring them back.” The second thing that happened is that Cabinet officers started to get confirmed by the Senate. And remember that a lot of the most spectacular DOGE stuff was happening in February. In February, these Cabinet secretaries were preparing for their Senate hearings. They weren’t on the job. Now that their Cabinet secretary’s home, what’s happening is they’re looking at these cuts and they’re saying, “No, no, no! We can’t live with these cuts because we have a mission to do.”As the government tries to hire back the people they fired, they’re going to have a tough time, and they’re going to have a tough time for two reasons. First of all, they treated them like dirt, and they’ve said a lot of insulting things. Second, most of the people who work for the federal government are highly skilled. They’re not paper pushers. We have computers to push our paper, right? They’re scientists. They’re engineers. They’re people with high skills, and guess what? They can get jobs outside the government. So there’s going to be real lasting damage to the government from the way they did this. And it’s analogous to the lasting damage that they’re causing at universities, where we now have top scientists who used to invent great cures for cancer and things like that, deciding to go find jobs in Europe because this culture has gotten so bad.What happens to this agency now? Who’s in charge of it?Well, what they’ve done is DOGE employees have been embedded in each of the organizations in the government, okay? And they basically — and the president himself has said this — they basically report to the Cabinet secretaries. So if you are in the Transportation Department, you have to make sure that Sean Duffy, who’s the secretary of transportation, agrees with you on what you want to do. And Sean Duffy has already had a fight during a Cabinet meeting with Elon Musk. You know that he has not been thrilled with the advice he’s gotten from DOGE. So from now on, DOGE is going to have to work hand in hand with Donald Trump’s appointed leaders.And just to bring this around to what we’re here talking about now, they’re in this huge fight over wasteful spending with the so-called big, beautiful bill. Does this just look like the government as usual, ultimately?It’s actually worse than normal. Because the deficit impacts are bigger than normal. It’s adding more to the deficit than previous bills have done. And the second reason it’s worse than normal is that everybody is still living in a fantasy world. And the fantasy world says that somehow we can deal with our deficits by cutting waste, fraud, and abuse. That is pure nonsense. Let me say it: pure nonsense.Where does most of the government money go? Does it go to some bureaucrats sitting on Pennsylvania Avenue? It goes to us. It goes to your grandmother and her Social Security and her Medicare. It goes to veterans in veterans benefits. It goes to Americans. That’s why it’s so hard to cut it. It’s so hard to cut it because it’s us. And people are living on it. Now, there’s a whole other topic that nobody talks about, and it’s called entitlement reform, right? Could we reform Social Security? Could we make the retirement age go from 67 to 68? That would save a lot of money. Could we change the cost of living? Nobody, nobody, nobody is talking about that. And that’s because we are in this crazy, polarized environment where we can no longer have serious conversations about serious issues. See More:
    #what #happens #doge #without #elon
    What happens to DOGE without Elon Musk?
    Elon Musk may be gone from the Trump administration — and his friendship status with President Donald Trump may be at best uncertain — but his whirlwind stint in government certainly left its imprint. The Department of Government Efficiency, his pet government-slashing project, remains entrenched in Washington. During his 130-day tenure, Musk led DOGE in eliminating about 260,000 federal employee jobs and gutting agencies supporting scientific research and humanitarian aid. But to date, DOGE claims to have saved the government billion — well short of its ambitioustarget of cutting at least trillion from the federal budget. And with Musk’s departure still fresh, there are reports that the federal government is trying to rehire federal workers who quit or were let go. For Elaine Kamarck, senior fellow at the Brookings Institution, DOGE’s tactics will likely end up being disastrous in the long run. “DOGE came in with these huge cuts, which were not attached to a plan,” she told Today, Explained co-host Sean Rameswaram. Kamarck knows all about making government more efficient. In the 1990s, she ran the Clinton administration’s Reinventing Government program. “I was Elon Musk,” she told Today, Explained. With the benefit of that experience, she assesses Musk’s record at DOGE, and what, if anything, the billionaire’s loud efforts at cutting government spending added up to. Below is an excerpt of the conversation, edited for length and clarity. There’s much more in the full podcast, so listen to Today, Explained wherever you get podcasts, including Apple Podcasts, Pandora, and Spotify. What do you think Elon Musk’s legacy is? Well, he will not have totally, radically reshaped the federal government. Absolutely not. In fact, there’s a high probability that on January 20, 2029, when the next president takes over, the federal government is about the same size as it is now, and is probably doing the same stuff that it’s doing now. What he did manage to do was insert chaos, fear, and loathing into the federal workforce. There was reporting in the Washington Post late last week that these cuts were so ineffective that the White House is actually reaching out to various federal employees who were laid off and asking them to come back, from the FDA to the IRS to even USAID. Which cuts are sticking at this point and which ones aren’t?First of all, in a lot of cases, people went to court and the courts have reversed those earlier decisions. So the first thing that happened is, courts said, “No, no, no, you can’t do it this way. You have to bring them back.” The second thing that happened is that Cabinet officers started to get confirmed by the Senate. And remember that a lot of the most spectacular DOGE stuff was happening in February. In February, these Cabinet secretaries were preparing for their Senate hearings. They weren’t on the job. Now that their Cabinet secretary’s home, what’s happening is they’re looking at these cuts and they’re saying, “No, no, no! We can’t live with these cuts because we have a mission to do.”As the government tries to hire back the people they fired, they’re going to have a tough time, and they’re going to have a tough time for two reasons. First of all, they treated them like dirt, and they’ve said a lot of insulting things. Second, most of the people who work for the federal government are highly skilled. They’re not paper pushers. We have computers to push our paper, right? They’re scientists. They’re engineers. They’re people with high skills, and guess what? They can get jobs outside the government. So there’s going to be real lasting damage to the government from the way they did this. And it’s analogous to the lasting damage that they’re causing at universities, where we now have top scientists who used to invent great cures for cancer and things like that, deciding to go find jobs in Europe because this culture has gotten so bad.What happens to this agency now? Who’s in charge of it?Well, what they’ve done is DOGE employees have been embedded in each of the organizations in the government, okay? And they basically — and the president himself has said this — they basically report to the Cabinet secretaries. So if you are in the Transportation Department, you have to make sure that Sean Duffy, who’s the secretary of transportation, agrees with you on what you want to do. And Sean Duffy has already had a fight during a Cabinet meeting with Elon Musk. You know that he has not been thrilled with the advice he’s gotten from DOGE. So from now on, DOGE is going to have to work hand in hand with Donald Trump’s appointed leaders.And just to bring this around to what we’re here talking about now, they’re in this huge fight over wasteful spending with the so-called big, beautiful bill. Does this just look like the government as usual, ultimately?It’s actually worse than normal. Because the deficit impacts are bigger than normal. It’s adding more to the deficit than previous bills have done. And the second reason it’s worse than normal is that everybody is still living in a fantasy world. And the fantasy world says that somehow we can deal with our deficits by cutting waste, fraud, and abuse. That is pure nonsense. Let me say it: pure nonsense.Where does most of the government money go? Does it go to some bureaucrats sitting on Pennsylvania Avenue? It goes to us. It goes to your grandmother and her Social Security and her Medicare. It goes to veterans in veterans benefits. It goes to Americans. That’s why it’s so hard to cut it. It’s so hard to cut it because it’s us. And people are living on it. Now, there’s a whole other topic that nobody talks about, and it’s called entitlement reform, right? Could we reform Social Security? Could we make the retirement age go from 67 to 68? That would save a lot of money. Could we change the cost of living? Nobody, nobody, nobody is talking about that. And that’s because we are in this crazy, polarized environment where we can no longer have serious conversations about serious issues. See More: #what #happens #doge #without #elon
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    What happens to DOGE without Elon Musk?
    Elon Musk may be gone from the Trump administration — and his friendship status with President Donald Trump may be at best uncertain — but his whirlwind stint in government certainly left its imprint. The Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), his pet government-slashing project, remains entrenched in Washington. During his 130-day tenure, Musk led DOGE in eliminating about 260,000 federal employee jobs and gutting agencies supporting scientific research and humanitarian aid. But to date, DOGE claims to have saved the government $180 billion — well short of its ambitious (and frankly never realistic) target of cutting at least $2 trillion from the federal budget. And with Musk’s departure still fresh, there are reports that the federal government is trying to rehire federal workers who quit or were let go. For Elaine Kamarck, senior fellow at the Brookings Institution, DOGE’s tactics will likely end up being disastrous in the long run. “DOGE came in with these huge cuts, which were not attached to a plan,” she told Today, Explained co-host Sean Rameswaram. Kamarck knows all about making government more efficient. In the 1990s, she ran the Clinton administration’s Reinventing Government program. “I was Elon Musk,” she told Today, Explained. With the benefit of that experience, she assesses Musk’s record at DOGE, and what, if anything, the billionaire’s loud efforts at cutting government spending added up to. Below is an excerpt of the conversation, edited for length and clarity. There’s much more in the full podcast, so listen to Today, Explained wherever you get podcasts, including Apple Podcasts, Pandora, and Spotify. What do you think Elon Musk’s legacy is? Well, he will not have totally, radically reshaped the federal government. Absolutely not. In fact, there’s a high probability that on January 20, 2029, when the next president takes over, the federal government is about the same size as it is now, and is probably doing the same stuff that it’s doing now. What he did manage to do was insert chaos, fear, and loathing into the federal workforce. There was reporting in the Washington Post late last week that these cuts were so ineffective that the White House is actually reaching out to various federal employees who were laid off and asking them to come back, from the FDA to the IRS to even USAID. Which cuts are sticking at this point and which ones aren’t?First of all, in a lot of cases, people went to court and the courts have reversed those earlier decisions. So the first thing that happened is, courts said, “No, no, no, you can’t do it this way. You have to bring them back.” The second thing that happened is that Cabinet officers started to get confirmed by the Senate. And remember that a lot of the most spectacular DOGE stuff was happening in February. In February, these Cabinet secretaries were preparing for their Senate hearings. They weren’t on the job. Now that their Cabinet secretary’s home, what’s happening is they’re looking at these cuts and they’re saying, “No, no, no! We can’t live with these cuts because we have a mission to do.”As the government tries to hire back the people they fired, they’re going to have a tough time, and they’re going to have a tough time for two reasons. First of all, they treated them like dirt, and they’ve said a lot of insulting things. Second, most of the people who work for the federal government are highly skilled. They’re not paper pushers. We have computers to push our paper, right? They’re scientists. They’re engineers. They’re people with high skills, and guess what? They can get jobs outside the government. So there’s going to be real lasting damage to the government from the way they did this. And it’s analogous to the lasting damage that they’re causing at universities, where we now have top scientists who used to invent great cures for cancer and things like that, deciding to go find jobs in Europe because this culture has gotten so bad.What happens to this agency now? Who’s in charge of it?Well, what they’ve done is DOGE employees have been embedded in each of the organizations in the government, okay? And they basically — and the president himself has said this — they basically report to the Cabinet secretaries. So if you are in the Transportation Department, you have to make sure that Sean Duffy, who’s the secretary of transportation, agrees with you on what you want to do. And Sean Duffy has already had a fight during a Cabinet meeting with Elon Musk. You know that he has not been thrilled with the advice he’s gotten from DOGE. So from now on, DOGE is going to have to work hand in hand with Donald Trump’s appointed leaders.And just to bring this around to what we’re here talking about now, they’re in this huge fight over wasteful spending with the so-called big, beautiful bill. Does this just look like the government as usual, ultimately?It’s actually worse than normal. Because the deficit impacts are bigger than normal. It’s adding more to the deficit than previous bills have done. And the second reason it’s worse than normal is that everybody is still living in a fantasy world. And the fantasy world says that somehow we can deal with our deficits by cutting waste, fraud, and abuse. That is pure nonsense. Let me say it: pure nonsense.Where does most of the government money go? Does it go to some bureaucrats sitting on Pennsylvania Avenue? It goes to us. It goes to your grandmother and her Social Security and her Medicare. It goes to veterans in veterans benefits. It goes to Americans. That’s why it’s so hard to cut it. It’s so hard to cut it because it’s us. And people are living on it. Now, there’s a whole other topic that nobody talks about, and it’s called entitlement reform, right? Could we reform Social Security? Could we make the retirement age go from 67 to 68? That would save a lot of money. Could we change the cost of living? Nobody, nobody, nobody is talking about that. And that’s because we are in this crazy, polarized environment where we can no longer have serious conversations about serious issues. See More:
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  • Cape to Cairo: the making and unmaking of colonial road networks

    In 2024, Egypt completed its 1,155km stretch of the Cairo–Cape Town Highway, a 10,228km‑long road connecting 10 African countries – Egypt, Sudan, South Sudan, Ethiopia, Kenya, Tanzania, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and South Africa.  
    The imaginary of ‘Cape to Cairo’ is not new. In 1874, editor of the Daily Telegraph Edwin Arnold proposed a plan to connect the African continent by rail, a project that came to be known as the Cape to Cairo Railway project. Cecil Rhodes expressed his support for the project, seeing it as a means to connect the various ‘possessions’ of the British Empire across Africa, facilitating the movement of troops and natural resources. This railway project was never completed, and in 1970 was overlaid by a very different attempt at connecting the Cape to Cairo, as part of the Trans‑African Highway network. This 56,683km‑long system of highways – some dating from the colonial era, some built as part of the 1970s project, and some only recently built – aimed to create lines of connection across the African continent, from north to south as well as east to west. 
    Here, postcolonial state power invested in ‘moving the continent’s people and economies from past to future’, as architectural historians Kenny Cupers and Prita Meier write in their 2020 essay ‘Infrastructure between Statehood and Selfhood: The Trans‑African Highway’. The highways were to be built with the support of Kenya’s president Jomo Kenyatta, Ghana’s president Kwame Nkrumah and Ghana’s director of social welfare Robert Gardiner, as well as the United Nations Economic Commission for Africa. This project was part of a particular historical moment during which anticolonial ideas animated most of the African continent; alongside trade, this iteration of Cape to Cairo centred social and cultural connection between African peoples. But though largely socialist in ambition, the project nevertheless engaged modernist developmentalist logics that cemented capitalism. 
    Lead image: Over a century in the making, the final stretches of the Cairo–Cape Town Highway are being finished. Egypt completed the section within its borders last year and a section over the dry Merille River in Kenya was constructed in 2019. Credit: Allan Muturi / SOPA / ZUMA / Alamy. Above: The route from Cairo to Cape Town, outlined in red, belongs to the Trans‑African Highway network, which comprises nine routes, here in black

    The project failed to fully materialise at the time, but efforts to complete the Trans‑African Highway network have been revived in the last 20 years; large parts are now complete though some links remain unbuilt and many roads are unpaved or hazardous. The most recent attempts to realise this project coincide with a new continental free trade agreement, the agreement on African Continental Free Trade Area, established in 2019, to increase trade within the continent. The contemporary manifestation of the Cairo–Cape Town Highway – also known as Trans‑African Highway4 – is marked by deepening neoliberal politics. Represented as an opportunity to boost trade and exports, connecting Egypt to African markets that the Egyptian government view as ‘untapped’, the project invokes notions of trade steeped in extraction, reflecting the neoliberal logic underpinning contemporary Egyptian governance; today, the country’s political project, led by Abdel Fattah El Sisi, is oriented towards Egyptian dominance and extraction in relation to the rest of the continent. 
    Through an allusion to markets ripe for extraction, this language brings to the fore historical forms of domination that have shaped the connections between Egypt and the rest of the continent; previous iterations of connection across the continent often reproduced forms of domination stretching from the north of the African continent to the south, including the Trans‑Saharan slave trade routes across Africa that ended in various North African and Middle Eastern territories. These networks, beginning in the 8th century and lasting until the 20th, produced racialised hierarchies across the continent, shaping North Africa into a comparably privileged space proximate to ‘Arabness’. This was a racialised division based on a civilisational narrative that saw Arabs as superior, but more importantly a political economic division resulting from the slave trade routes that produced huge profits for North Africa and the Middle East. In the contemporary moment, these racialised hierarchies are bound up in political economic dependency on the Arab Gulf states, who are themselves dependent on resource extraction, land grabbing and privatisation across the entire African continent. 
    ‘The Cairo–Cape Town Highway connects Egypt to African markets viewed as “untapped”, invoking notions steeped in extraction’
    However, this imaginary conjured by the Cairo–Cape Town Highway is countered by a network of streets scattered across Africa that traces the web of Egyptian Pan‑African solidarity across the continent. In Lusaka in Zambia, you might find yourself on Nasser Road, as you might in Mwanza in Tanzania or Luanda in Angola. In Mombasa in Kenya, you might be driving down Abdel Nasser Road; in Kampala in Uganda, you might find yourself at Nasser Road University; and in Tunis in Tunisia, you might end up on Gamal Abdel Nasser Street. These street names are a reference to Gamal Abdel Nasser, Egypt’s first postcolonial leader and president between 1956 and 1970. 
    Read against the contemporary Cairo–Cape Town Highway, these place names signal a different form of connection that brings to life Egyptian Pan‑Africanism, when solidarity was the hegemonic force connecting the continent, coming up against the notion of a natural or timeless ‘great divide’ within Africa. From the memoirs of Egyptian officials who were posted around Africa as conduits of solidarity, to the broadcasts of Radio Cairo that were heard across the continent, to the various conferences attended by anticolonial movements and postcolonial states, Egypt’s orientation towards Pan‑Africanism, beginning in the early 20th century and lasting until the 1970s, was both material and ideological. Figures and movements forged webs of solidarity with their African comrades, imagining an Africa that was united through shared commitments to ending colonialism and capitalist extraction. 
    The route between Cape Town in South Africa and Cairo in Egypt has long occupied the colonial imaginary. In 1930, Margaret Belcher and Ellen Budgell made the journey, sponsored by car brand Morris and oil company Shell
    Credit: Fox Photos / Getty
    The pair made use of the road built by British colonisers in the 19th century, and which forms the basis for the current Cairo–Cape Town Highway. The road was preceded by the 1874 Cape to Cairo Railway project, which connected the colonies of the British Empire
    Credit: Library of Congress, Geography and Map Division
    This network of eponymous streets represents attempts to inscribe anticolonial power into the materiality of the city. Street‑naming practices are one way in which the past comes into the present, ‘weaving history into the geographic fabric of everyday life’, as geographer Derek Alderman wrote in his 2002 essay ‘Street Names as Memorial Arenas’. In this vein, the renaming of streets during decolonisation marked a practice of contesting the production of colonial space. In the newly postcolonial city, renaming was a way of ‘claiming the city back’, Alderman continues. While these changes may appear discursive, it is their embedding in material spaces, through signs and maps, that make the names come to life; place names become a part of the everyday through sharing addresses or giving directions. This quality makes them powerful; consciously or unconsciously, they form part of how the spaces of the city are navigated. 
    These are traces that were once part of a dominant historical narrative; yet when they are encountered in the present, during a different historical moment, they no longer act as expressions of power but instead conjure up a moment that has long passed. A street in Lusaka named after an Egyptian general made more sense 60 years ago than it does today, yet contextualising it recovers a marginalised history of Egyptian Pan‑Africanism. 
    Markers such as street names or monuments are simultaneously markers of anticolonial struggle as well as expressions of state power – part of an attempt, by political projects such as Nasser’s, to exert their own dominance over cities, towns and villages. That such traces are expressions of both anticolonial hopes and postcolonial state power produces a sense of tension within them. For instance, Nasser’s postcolonial project in Egypt was a contradictory one; it gave life to anticolonial hopes – for instance by breaking away from European capitalism and embracing anticolonial geopolitics – while crushing many parts of the left through repression, censorship and imprisonment. Traces of Nasser found today inscribe both anticolonial promises – those that came to life and those that did not – while reproducing postcolonial power that in most instances ended in dictatorship. 
    Recent efforts to complete the route build on those of the post‑independence era – work on a section north of Nairobi started in 1968
    Credit: Associated Press / Alamy
    The Trans‑African Highway network was conceived in 1970 in the spirit of Pan‑Africanism

    At that time, the routes did not extend into South Africa, which was in the grip of apartheid. The Trans‑African Highway initiative was motivated by a desire to improve trade and centre cultural links across the continent – an ambition that was even celebrated on postage stamps

    There have been long‑standing debates about the erasure of the radical anticolonial spirit from the more conservative postcolonial states that emerged; the promises and hopes of anticolonialism, not least among them socialism and a world free of white supremacy, remain largely unrealised. Instead, by the 1970s neoliberalism emerged as a new hegemonic project. The contemporary instantiation of Cape to Cairo highlights just how pervasive neoliberal logics continue to be, despite multiple global financial crises and the 2011 Egyptian revolution demanding ‘bread, freedom, social justice’. 
    But the network of streets named after anticolonial figures and events across the world is testament to the immense power and promise of anticolonial revolution. Most of the 20th century was characterised by anticolonial struggle, decolonisation and postcolonial nation‑building, as nations across the global south gained independence from European empire and founded their own political projects. Anticolonial traces, present in street and place names, point to the possibility of solidarity as a means of reorienting colonial geographies. They are a reminder that there have been other imaginings of Cape to Cairo, and that things can be – and have been – otherwise.

    2025-06-13
    Kristina Rapacki

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    #cape #cairo #making #unmaking #colonial
    Cape to Cairo: the making and unmaking of colonial road networks
    In 2024, Egypt completed its 1,155km stretch of the Cairo–Cape Town Highway, a 10,228km‑long road connecting 10 African countries – Egypt, Sudan, South Sudan, Ethiopia, Kenya, Tanzania, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and South Africa.   The imaginary of ‘Cape to Cairo’ is not new. In 1874, editor of the Daily Telegraph Edwin Arnold proposed a plan to connect the African continent by rail, a project that came to be known as the Cape to Cairo Railway project. Cecil Rhodes expressed his support for the project, seeing it as a means to connect the various ‘possessions’ of the British Empire across Africa, facilitating the movement of troops and natural resources. This railway project was never completed, and in 1970 was overlaid by a very different attempt at connecting the Cape to Cairo, as part of the Trans‑African Highway network. This 56,683km‑long system of highways – some dating from the colonial era, some built as part of the 1970s project, and some only recently built – aimed to create lines of connection across the African continent, from north to south as well as east to west.  Here, postcolonial state power invested in ‘moving the continent’s people and economies from past to future’, as architectural historians Kenny Cupers and Prita Meier write in their 2020 essay ‘Infrastructure between Statehood and Selfhood: The Trans‑African Highway’. The highways were to be built with the support of Kenya’s president Jomo Kenyatta, Ghana’s president Kwame Nkrumah and Ghana’s director of social welfare Robert Gardiner, as well as the United Nations Economic Commission for Africa. This project was part of a particular historical moment during which anticolonial ideas animated most of the African continent; alongside trade, this iteration of Cape to Cairo centred social and cultural connection between African peoples. But though largely socialist in ambition, the project nevertheless engaged modernist developmentalist logics that cemented capitalism.  Lead image: Over a century in the making, the final stretches of the Cairo–Cape Town Highway are being finished. Egypt completed the section within its borders last year and a section over the dry Merille River in Kenya was constructed in 2019. Credit: Allan Muturi / SOPA / ZUMA / Alamy. Above: The route from Cairo to Cape Town, outlined in red, belongs to the Trans‑African Highway network, which comprises nine routes, here in black The project failed to fully materialise at the time, but efforts to complete the Trans‑African Highway network have been revived in the last 20 years; large parts are now complete though some links remain unbuilt and many roads are unpaved or hazardous. The most recent attempts to realise this project coincide with a new continental free trade agreement, the agreement on African Continental Free Trade Area, established in 2019, to increase trade within the continent. The contemporary manifestation of the Cairo–Cape Town Highway – also known as Trans‑African Highway4 – is marked by deepening neoliberal politics. Represented as an opportunity to boost trade and exports, connecting Egypt to African markets that the Egyptian government view as ‘untapped’, the project invokes notions of trade steeped in extraction, reflecting the neoliberal logic underpinning contemporary Egyptian governance; today, the country’s political project, led by Abdel Fattah El Sisi, is oriented towards Egyptian dominance and extraction in relation to the rest of the continent.  Through an allusion to markets ripe for extraction, this language brings to the fore historical forms of domination that have shaped the connections between Egypt and the rest of the continent; previous iterations of connection across the continent often reproduced forms of domination stretching from the north of the African continent to the south, including the Trans‑Saharan slave trade routes across Africa that ended in various North African and Middle Eastern territories. These networks, beginning in the 8th century and lasting until the 20th, produced racialised hierarchies across the continent, shaping North Africa into a comparably privileged space proximate to ‘Arabness’. This was a racialised division based on a civilisational narrative that saw Arabs as superior, but more importantly a political economic division resulting from the slave trade routes that produced huge profits for North Africa and the Middle East. In the contemporary moment, these racialised hierarchies are bound up in political economic dependency on the Arab Gulf states, who are themselves dependent on resource extraction, land grabbing and privatisation across the entire African continent.  ‘The Cairo–Cape Town Highway connects Egypt to African markets viewed as “untapped”, invoking notions steeped in extraction’ However, this imaginary conjured by the Cairo–Cape Town Highway is countered by a network of streets scattered across Africa that traces the web of Egyptian Pan‑African solidarity across the continent. In Lusaka in Zambia, you might find yourself on Nasser Road, as you might in Mwanza in Tanzania or Luanda in Angola. In Mombasa in Kenya, you might be driving down Abdel Nasser Road; in Kampala in Uganda, you might find yourself at Nasser Road University; and in Tunis in Tunisia, you might end up on Gamal Abdel Nasser Street. These street names are a reference to Gamal Abdel Nasser, Egypt’s first postcolonial leader and president between 1956 and 1970.  Read against the contemporary Cairo–Cape Town Highway, these place names signal a different form of connection that brings to life Egyptian Pan‑Africanism, when solidarity was the hegemonic force connecting the continent, coming up against the notion of a natural or timeless ‘great divide’ within Africa. From the memoirs of Egyptian officials who were posted around Africa as conduits of solidarity, to the broadcasts of Radio Cairo that were heard across the continent, to the various conferences attended by anticolonial movements and postcolonial states, Egypt’s orientation towards Pan‑Africanism, beginning in the early 20th century and lasting until the 1970s, was both material and ideological. Figures and movements forged webs of solidarity with their African comrades, imagining an Africa that was united through shared commitments to ending colonialism and capitalist extraction.  The route between Cape Town in South Africa and Cairo in Egypt has long occupied the colonial imaginary. In 1930, Margaret Belcher and Ellen Budgell made the journey, sponsored by car brand Morris and oil company Shell Credit: Fox Photos / Getty The pair made use of the road built by British colonisers in the 19th century, and which forms the basis for the current Cairo–Cape Town Highway. The road was preceded by the 1874 Cape to Cairo Railway project, which connected the colonies of the British Empire Credit: Library of Congress, Geography and Map Division This network of eponymous streets represents attempts to inscribe anticolonial power into the materiality of the city. Street‑naming practices are one way in which the past comes into the present, ‘weaving history into the geographic fabric of everyday life’, as geographer Derek Alderman wrote in his 2002 essay ‘Street Names as Memorial Arenas’. In this vein, the renaming of streets during decolonisation marked a practice of contesting the production of colonial space. In the newly postcolonial city, renaming was a way of ‘claiming the city back’, Alderman continues. While these changes may appear discursive, it is their embedding in material spaces, through signs and maps, that make the names come to life; place names become a part of the everyday through sharing addresses or giving directions. This quality makes them powerful; consciously or unconsciously, they form part of how the spaces of the city are navigated.  These are traces that were once part of a dominant historical narrative; yet when they are encountered in the present, during a different historical moment, they no longer act as expressions of power but instead conjure up a moment that has long passed. A street in Lusaka named after an Egyptian general made more sense 60 years ago than it does today, yet contextualising it recovers a marginalised history of Egyptian Pan‑Africanism.  Markers such as street names or monuments are simultaneously markers of anticolonial struggle as well as expressions of state power – part of an attempt, by political projects such as Nasser’s, to exert their own dominance over cities, towns and villages. That such traces are expressions of both anticolonial hopes and postcolonial state power produces a sense of tension within them. For instance, Nasser’s postcolonial project in Egypt was a contradictory one; it gave life to anticolonial hopes – for instance by breaking away from European capitalism and embracing anticolonial geopolitics – while crushing many parts of the left through repression, censorship and imprisonment. Traces of Nasser found today inscribe both anticolonial promises – those that came to life and those that did not – while reproducing postcolonial power that in most instances ended in dictatorship.  Recent efforts to complete the route build on those of the post‑independence era – work on a section north of Nairobi started in 1968 Credit: Associated Press / Alamy The Trans‑African Highway network was conceived in 1970 in the spirit of Pan‑Africanism At that time, the routes did not extend into South Africa, which was in the grip of apartheid. The Trans‑African Highway initiative was motivated by a desire to improve trade and centre cultural links across the continent – an ambition that was even celebrated on postage stamps There have been long‑standing debates about the erasure of the radical anticolonial spirit from the more conservative postcolonial states that emerged; the promises and hopes of anticolonialism, not least among them socialism and a world free of white supremacy, remain largely unrealised. Instead, by the 1970s neoliberalism emerged as a new hegemonic project. The contemporary instantiation of Cape to Cairo highlights just how pervasive neoliberal logics continue to be, despite multiple global financial crises and the 2011 Egyptian revolution demanding ‘bread, freedom, social justice’.  But the network of streets named after anticolonial figures and events across the world is testament to the immense power and promise of anticolonial revolution. Most of the 20th century was characterised by anticolonial struggle, decolonisation and postcolonial nation‑building, as nations across the global south gained independence from European empire and founded their own political projects. Anticolonial traces, present in street and place names, point to the possibility of solidarity as a means of reorienting colonial geographies. They are a reminder that there have been other imaginings of Cape to Cairo, and that things can be – and have been – otherwise. 2025-06-13 Kristina Rapacki Share #cape #cairo #making #unmaking #colonial
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    Cape to Cairo: the making and unmaking of colonial road networks
    In 2024, Egypt completed its 1,155km stretch of the Cairo–Cape Town Highway, a 10,228km‑long road connecting 10 African countries – Egypt, Sudan, South Sudan, Ethiopia, Kenya, Tanzania, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and South Africa.   The imaginary of ‘Cape to Cairo’ is not new. In 1874, editor of the Daily Telegraph Edwin Arnold proposed a plan to connect the African continent by rail, a project that came to be known as the Cape to Cairo Railway project. Cecil Rhodes expressed his support for the project, seeing it as a means to connect the various ‘possessions’ of the British Empire across Africa, facilitating the movement of troops and natural resources. This railway project was never completed, and in 1970 was overlaid by a very different attempt at connecting the Cape to Cairo, as part of the Trans‑African Highway network. This 56,683km‑long system of highways – some dating from the colonial era, some built as part of the 1970s project, and some only recently built – aimed to create lines of connection across the African continent, from north to south as well as east to west.  Here, postcolonial state power invested in ‘moving the continent’s people and economies from past to future’, as architectural historians Kenny Cupers and Prita Meier write in their 2020 essay ‘Infrastructure between Statehood and Selfhood: The Trans‑African Highway’. The highways were to be built with the support of Kenya’s president Jomo Kenyatta, Ghana’s president Kwame Nkrumah and Ghana’s director of social welfare Robert Gardiner, as well as the United Nations Economic Commission for Africa (UNECA). This project was part of a particular historical moment during which anticolonial ideas animated most of the African continent; alongside trade, this iteration of Cape to Cairo centred social and cultural connection between African peoples. But though largely socialist in ambition, the project nevertheless engaged modernist developmentalist logics that cemented capitalism.  Lead image: Over a century in the making, the final stretches of the Cairo–Cape Town Highway are being finished. Egypt completed the section within its borders last year and a section over the dry Merille River in Kenya was constructed in 2019. Credit: Allan Muturi / SOPA / ZUMA / Alamy. Above: The route from Cairo to Cape Town, outlined in red, belongs to the Trans‑African Highway network, which comprises nine routes, here in black The project failed to fully materialise at the time, but efforts to complete the Trans‑African Highway network have been revived in the last 20 years; large parts are now complete though some links remain unbuilt and many roads are unpaved or hazardous. The most recent attempts to realise this project coincide with a new continental free trade agreement, the agreement on African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA), established in 2019, to increase trade within the continent. The contemporary manifestation of the Cairo–Cape Town Highway – also known as Trans‑African Highway (TAH) 4 – is marked by deepening neoliberal politics. Represented as an opportunity to boost trade and exports, connecting Egypt to African markets that the Egyptian government view as ‘untapped’, the project invokes notions of trade steeped in extraction, reflecting the neoliberal logic underpinning contemporary Egyptian governance; today, the country’s political project, led by Abdel Fattah El Sisi, is oriented towards Egyptian dominance and extraction in relation to the rest of the continent.  Through an allusion to markets ripe for extraction, this language brings to the fore historical forms of domination that have shaped the connections between Egypt and the rest of the continent; previous iterations of connection across the continent often reproduced forms of domination stretching from the north of the African continent to the south, including the Trans‑Saharan slave trade routes across Africa that ended in various North African and Middle Eastern territories. These networks, beginning in the 8th century and lasting until the 20th, produced racialised hierarchies across the continent, shaping North Africa into a comparably privileged space proximate to ‘Arabness’. This was a racialised division based on a civilisational narrative that saw Arabs as superior, but more importantly a political economic division resulting from the slave trade routes that produced huge profits for North Africa and the Middle East. In the contemporary moment, these racialised hierarchies are bound up in political economic dependency on the Arab Gulf states, who are themselves dependent on resource extraction, land grabbing and privatisation across the entire African continent.  ‘The Cairo–Cape Town Highway connects Egypt to African markets viewed as “untapped”, invoking notions steeped in extraction’ However, this imaginary conjured by the Cairo–Cape Town Highway is countered by a network of streets scattered across Africa that traces the web of Egyptian Pan‑African solidarity across the continent. In Lusaka in Zambia, you might find yourself on Nasser Road, as you might in Mwanza in Tanzania or Luanda in Angola. In Mombasa in Kenya, you might be driving down Abdel Nasser Road; in Kampala in Uganda, you might find yourself at Nasser Road University; and in Tunis in Tunisia, you might end up on Gamal Abdel Nasser Street. These street names are a reference to Gamal Abdel Nasser, Egypt’s first postcolonial leader and president between 1956 and 1970.  Read against the contemporary Cairo–Cape Town Highway, these place names signal a different form of connection that brings to life Egyptian Pan‑Africanism, when solidarity was the hegemonic force connecting the continent, coming up against the notion of a natural or timeless ‘great divide’ within Africa. From the memoirs of Egyptian officials who were posted around Africa as conduits of solidarity, to the broadcasts of Radio Cairo that were heard across the continent, to the various conferences attended by anticolonial movements and postcolonial states, Egypt’s orientation towards Pan‑Africanism, beginning in the early 20th century and lasting until the 1970s, was both material and ideological. Figures and movements forged webs of solidarity with their African comrades, imagining an Africa that was united through shared commitments to ending colonialism and capitalist extraction.  The route between Cape Town in South Africa and Cairo in Egypt has long occupied the colonial imaginary. In 1930, Margaret Belcher and Ellen Budgell made the journey, sponsored by car brand Morris and oil company Shell Credit: Fox Photos / Getty The pair made use of the road built by British colonisers in the 19th century, and which forms the basis for the current Cairo–Cape Town Highway. The road was preceded by the 1874 Cape to Cairo Railway project, which connected the colonies of the British Empire Credit: Library of Congress, Geography and Map Division This network of eponymous streets represents attempts to inscribe anticolonial power into the materiality of the city. Street‑naming practices are one way in which the past comes into the present, ‘weaving history into the geographic fabric of everyday life’, as geographer Derek Alderman wrote in his 2002 essay ‘Street Names as Memorial Arenas’. In this vein, the renaming of streets during decolonisation marked a practice of contesting the production of colonial space. In the newly postcolonial city, renaming was a way of ‘claiming the city back’, Alderman continues. While these changes may appear discursive, it is their embedding in material spaces, through signs and maps, that make the names come to life; place names become a part of the everyday through sharing addresses or giving directions. This quality makes them powerful; consciously or unconsciously, they form part of how the spaces of the city are navigated.  These are traces that were once part of a dominant historical narrative; yet when they are encountered in the present, during a different historical moment, they no longer act as expressions of power but instead conjure up a moment that has long passed. A street in Lusaka named after an Egyptian general made more sense 60 years ago than it does today, yet contextualising it recovers a marginalised history of Egyptian Pan‑Africanism.  Markers such as street names or monuments are simultaneously markers of anticolonial struggle as well as expressions of state power – part of an attempt, by political projects such as Nasser’s, to exert their own dominance over cities, towns and villages. That such traces are expressions of both anticolonial hopes and postcolonial state power produces a sense of tension within them. For instance, Nasser’s postcolonial project in Egypt was a contradictory one; it gave life to anticolonial hopes – for instance by breaking away from European capitalism and embracing anticolonial geopolitics – while crushing many parts of the left through repression, censorship and imprisonment. Traces of Nasser found today inscribe both anticolonial promises – those that came to life and those that did not – while reproducing postcolonial power that in most instances ended in dictatorship.  Recent efforts to complete the route build on those of the post‑independence era – work on a section north of Nairobi started in 1968 Credit: Associated Press / Alamy The Trans‑African Highway network was conceived in 1970 in the spirit of Pan‑Africanism At that time, the routes did not extend into South Africa, which was in the grip of apartheid. The Trans‑African Highway initiative was motivated by a desire to improve trade and centre cultural links across the continent – an ambition that was even celebrated on postage stamps There have been long‑standing debates about the erasure of the radical anticolonial spirit from the more conservative postcolonial states that emerged; the promises and hopes of anticolonialism, not least among them socialism and a world free of white supremacy, remain largely unrealised. Instead, by the 1970s neoliberalism emerged as a new hegemonic project. The contemporary instantiation of Cape to Cairo highlights just how pervasive neoliberal logics continue to be, despite multiple global financial crises and the 2011 Egyptian revolution demanding ‘bread, freedom, social justice’.  But the network of streets named after anticolonial figures and events across the world is testament to the immense power and promise of anticolonial revolution. Most of the 20th century was characterised by anticolonial struggle, decolonisation and postcolonial nation‑building, as nations across the global south gained independence from European empire and founded their own political projects. Anticolonial traces, present in street and place names, point to the possibility of solidarity as a means of reorienting colonial geographies. They are a reminder that there have been other imaginings of Cape to Cairo, and that things can be – and have been – otherwise. 2025-06-13 Kristina Rapacki Share
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  • An excerpt from a new book by Sérgio Ferro, published by MACK Books, showcases the architect’s moment of disenchantment

    Last year, MACK Books published Architecture from Below, which anthologized writings by the French Brazilian architect, theorist, and painter Sérgio Ferro.Now, MACK follows with Design and the Building Site and Complementary Essays, the second in the trilogy of books dedicated to Ferro’s scholarship. The following excerpt of the author’s 2023 preface to the English edition, which preserves its British phrasing, captures Ferro’s realization about the working conditions of construction sites in Brasília. The sentiment is likely relatable even today for young architects as they discover how drawings become buildings. Design and the Building Site and Complementary Essays will be released on May 22.

    If I remember correctly, it was in 1958 or 1959, when Rodrigo and I were second- or third year architecture students at FAUUSP, that my father, the real estate developer Armando Simone Pereira, commissioned us to design two large office buildings and eleven shops in Brasilia, which was then under construction. Of course, we were not adequately prepared for such an undertaking. Fortunately, Oscar Niemeyer and his team, who were responsible for overseeing the construction of the capital, had drawn up a detailed document determining the essential characteristics of all the private sector buildings. We followed these prescriptions to the letter, which saved us from disaster.
    Nowadays, it is hard to imagine the degree to which the construction of Brasilia inspired enthusiasm and professional pride in the country’s architects. And in the national imagination, the city’s establishment in the supposedly unpopulated hinterland evoked a re-founding of Brazil. Up until that point, the occupation of our immense territory had been reduced to a collection of arborescent communication routes, generally converging upon some river, following it up to the Atlantic Ocean. Through its ports, agricultural or extractive commodities produced by enslaved peoples or their substitutes passed towards the metropolises; goods were exchanged in the metropolises for more elaborate products, which took the opposite route. Our national identity was summed up in a few symbols, such as the anthem or the flag, and this scattering of paths pointing overseas. Brasilia would radically change this situation, or so we believed. It would create a central hub where the internal communication routes could converge, linking together hithertoseparate junctions, stimulating trade and economic progress in the country’s interior. It was as if, for the first time, we were taking care of ourselves. At the nucleus of this centripetal movement, architecture would embody the renaissance. And at the naval of the nucleus, the symbolic mandala of this utopia: the cathedral.
    Rodrigo and I got caught up in the euphoria. And perhaps more so than our colleagues, because we were taking part in the adventure with ‘our’ designs. The reality was very different — but we did not know that yet.

    At that time, architects in Brazil were responsible for verifying that the construction was in line with the design. We had already monitored some of our first building sites. But the construction company in charge of them, Osmar Souza e Silva’s CENPLA, specialized in the building sites of modernist architects from the so-called Escola Paulista led by Vilanova Artigas. Osmar was very attentive to his clients and his workers, who formed a supportive and helpful team. He was even more careful with us, because he knew how inexperienced we were. I believe that the CENPLA was particularly important in São Paulo modernism: with its congeniality, it facilitated experimentation, but for the same reason, it deceived novices like us about the reality of other building sites.
    Consequently, Rodrigo and I travelled to Brasilia several times to check that the constructions followed ‘our’ designs and to resolve any issues. From the very first trip, our little bubble burst. Our building sites, like all the others in the future capital, bore no relation to Osmar’s. They were more like a branch of hell. A huge, muddy wasteland, in which a few cranes, pile drivers, tractors, and excavators dotted the mound of scaffolding occupied by thousands of skinny, seemingly exhausted wretches, who were nevertheless driven on by the shouts of master builders and foremen, in turn pressured by the imminence of the fateful inauguration date. Surrounding or huddled underneath the marquees of buildings under construction, entire families, equally skeletal and ragged, were waiting for some accident or death to open up a vacancy. In contact only with the master builders, and under close surveillance so we would not speak to the workers, we were not allowed to see what comrades who had worked on these sites later told us in prison: suicide abounded; escape was known to be futile in the unpopulated surroundings with no viable roads; fatal accidents were often caused by weakness due to chronic diarrhoea, brought on by rotten food that came from far away; outright theft took place in the calculation of wages and expenses in the contractor’s grocery store; camps were surrounded by law enforcement.
    I repeat this anecdote yet again not to invoke the benevolence of potential readers, but rather to point out the conditions that, in my opinion, allowed two studentsstill in their professional infancy to quickly adopt positions that were contrary to the usual stance of architects. As the project was more Oscar Niemeyer’s than it was our own, we did not have the same emotional attachment that is understandably engendered between real authors and their designs. We had not yet been imbued with the charm and aura of the métier. And the only building sites we had visited thus far, Osmar’s, were incomparable to those we discovered in Brasilia. In short, our youthfulness and unpreparedness up against an unbearable situation made us react almost immediately to the profession’s satisfied doxa.

    Unprepared and young perhaps, but already with Marx by our side. Rodrigo and I joined the student cell of the Brazilian Communist Party during our first year at university. In itself, this did not help us much: the Party’s Marxism, revised in the interests of the USSR, was pitiful. Even high-level leaders rarely went beyond the first chapter of Capital. But at the end of the 1950s, the effervescence of the years to come was already nascent: this extraordinary revivalthe rediscovery of Marxism and the great dialectical texts and traditions in the 1960s: an excitement that identifies a forgotten or repressed moment of the past as the new and subversive, and learns the dialectical grammar of a Hegel or an Adorno, a Marx or a Lukács, like a foreign language that has resources unavailable in our own.
    And what is more: the Chinese and Cuban revolutions, the war in Vietnam, guerrilla warfare of all kinds, national liberation movements, and a rare libertarian disposition in contemporary history, totally averse to fanaticism and respect for ideological apparatuses ofstate or institution. Going against the grain was almost the norm. We were of course no more than contemporaries of our time. We were soon able to position ourselves from chapters 13, 14, and 15 of Capital, but only because we could constantly cross-reference Marx with our observations from well-contrasted building sites and do our own experimenting. As soon as we identified construction as manufacture, for example, thanks to the willingness and even encouragement of two friends and clients, Boris Fausto and Bernardo Issler, I was able to test both types of manufacture — organic and heterogeneous — on similar-sized projects taking place simultaneously, in order to find out which would be most convenient for the situation in Brazil, particularly in São Paulo. Despite the scientific shortcomings of these tests, they sufficed for us to select organic manufacture. Arquitetura Nova had defined its line of practice, studies, and research.
    There were other sources that were central to our theory and practice. Flávio Império was one of the founders of the Teatro de Arena, undoubtedly the vanguard of popular, militant theatre in Brazil. He won practically every set design award. He brought us his marvelous findings in spatial condensation and malleability, and in the creative diversion of techniques and material—appropriate devices for an underdeveloped country. This is what helped us pave the way to reformulating the reigning design paradigms. 

    We had to do what Flávio had done in the theatre: thoroughly rethink how to be an architect. Upend the perspective. The way we were taught was to start from a desired result; then others would take care of getting there, no matter how. We, on the other hand, set out to go down to the building site and accompany those carrying out the labor itself, those who actually build, the formally subsumed workers in manufacture who are increasingly deprived of the knowledge and know-how presupposed by this kind of subsumption. We should have been fostering the reconstitution of this knowledge and know-how—not so as to fulfil this assumption, but in order to reinvigorate the other side of this assumption according to Marx: the historical rebellion of the manufacture worker, especially the construction worker. We had to rekindle the demand that fueled this rebellion: total self-determination, and not just that of the manual operation as such. Our aim was above all political and ethical. Aesthetics only mattered by way of what it included—ethics. Instead of estética, we wrote est ética. We wanted to make building sites into nests for the return of revolutionary syndicalism, which we ourselves had yet to discover.
    Sérgio Ferro, born in Brazil in 1938, studied architecture at FAUUSP, São Paulo. In the 1960s, he joined the Brazilian communist party and started, along with Rodrigo Lefevre and Flávio Império, the collective known as Arquitetura Nova. After being arrested by the military dictatorship that took power in Brazil in 1964, he moved to France as an exile. As a painter and a professor at the École Nationale Supérieure d’Architecture de Grenoble, where he founded the Dessin/Chantier laboratory, he engaged in extensive research which resulted in several publications, exhibitions, and awards in Brazil and in France, including the title of Chevalier des Arts et des Lettres in 1992. Following his retirement from teaching, Ferro continues to research, write, and paint.
    #excerpt #new #book #sérgio #ferro
    An excerpt from a new book by Sérgio Ferro, published by MACK Books, showcases the architect’s moment of disenchantment
    Last year, MACK Books published Architecture from Below, which anthologized writings by the French Brazilian architect, theorist, and painter Sérgio Ferro.Now, MACK follows with Design and the Building Site and Complementary Essays, the second in the trilogy of books dedicated to Ferro’s scholarship. The following excerpt of the author’s 2023 preface to the English edition, which preserves its British phrasing, captures Ferro’s realization about the working conditions of construction sites in Brasília. The sentiment is likely relatable even today for young architects as they discover how drawings become buildings. Design and the Building Site and Complementary Essays will be released on May 22. If I remember correctly, it was in 1958 or 1959, when Rodrigo and I were second- or third year architecture students at FAUUSP, that my father, the real estate developer Armando Simone Pereira, commissioned us to design two large office buildings and eleven shops in Brasilia, which was then under construction. Of course, we were not adequately prepared for such an undertaking. Fortunately, Oscar Niemeyer and his team, who were responsible for overseeing the construction of the capital, had drawn up a detailed document determining the essential characteristics of all the private sector buildings. We followed these prescriptions to the letter, which saved us from disaster. Nowadays, it is hard to imagine the degree to which the construction of Brasilia inspired enthusiasm and professional pride in the country’s architects. And in the national imagination, the city’s establishment in the supposedly unpopulated hinterland evoked a re-founding of Brazil. Up until that point, the occupation of our immense territory had been reduced to a collection of arborescent communication routes, generally converging upon some river, following it up to the Atlantic Ocean. Through its ports, agricultural or extractive commodities produced by enslaved peoples or their substitutes passed towards the metropolises; goods were exchanged in the metropolises for more elaborate products, which took the opposite route. Our national identity was summed up in a few symbols, such as the anthem or the flag, and this scattering of paths pointing overseas. Brasilia would radically change this situation, or so we believed. It would create a central hub where the internal communication routes could converge, linking together hithertoseparate junctions, stimulating trade and economic progress in the country’s interior. It was as if, for the first time, we were taking care of ourselves. At the nucleus of this centripetal movement, architecture would embody the renaissance. And at the naval of the nucleus, the symbolic mandala of this utopia: the cathedral. Rodrigo and I got caught up in the euphoria. And perhaps more so than our colleagues, because we were taking part in the adventure with ‘our’ designs. The reality was very different — but we did not know that yet. At that time, architects in Brazil were responsible for verifying that the construction was in line with the design. We had already monitored some of our first building sites. But the construction company in charge of them, Osmar Souza e Silva’s CENPLA, specialized in the building sites of modernist architects from the so-called Escola Paulista led by Vilanova Artigas. Osmar was very attentive to his clients and his workers, who formed a supportive and helpful team. He was even more careful with us, because he knew how inexperienced we were. I believe that the CENPLA was particularly important in São Paulo modernism: with its congeniality, it facilitated experimentation, but for the same reason, it deceived novices like us about the reality of other building sites. Consequently, Rodrigo and I travelled to Brasilia several times to check that the constructions followed ‘our’ designs and to resolve any issues. From the very first trip, our little bubble burst. Our building sites, like all the others in the future capital, bore no relation to Osmar’s. They were more like a branch of hell. A huge, muddy wasteland, in which a few cranes, pile drivers, tractors, and excavators dotted the mound of scaffolding occupied by thousands of skinny, seemingly exhausted wretches, who were nevertheless driven on by the shouts of master builders and foremen, in turn pressured by the imminence of the fateful inauguration date. Surrounding or huddled underneath the marquees of buildings under construction, entire families, equally skeletal and ragged, were waiting for some accident or death to open up a vacancy. In contact only with the master builders, and under close surveillance so we would not speak to the workers, we were not allowed to see what comrades who had worked on these sites later told us in prison: suicide abounded; escape was known to be futile in the unpopulated surroundings with no viable roads; fatal accidents were often caused by weakness due to chronic diarrhoea, brought on by rotten food that came from far away; outright theft took place in the calculation of wages and expenses in the contractor’s grocery store; camps were surrounded by law enforcement. I repeat this anecdote yet again not to invoke the benevolence of potential readers, but rather to point out the conditions that, in my opinion, allowed two studentsstill in their professional infancy to quickly adopt positions that were contrary to the usual stance of architects. As the project was more Oscar Niemeyer’s than it was our own, we did not have the same emotional attachment that is understandably engendered between real authors and their designs. We had not yet been imbued with the charm and aura of the métier. And the only building sites we had visited thus far, Osmar’s, were incomparable to those we discovered in Brasilia. In short, our youthfulness and unpreparedness up against an unbearable situation made us react almost immediately to the profession’s satisfied doxa. Unprepared and young perhaps, but already with Marx by our side. Rodrigo and I joined the student cell of the Brazilian Communist Party during our first year at university. In itself, this did not help us much: the Party’s Marxism, revised in the interests of the USSR, was pitiful. Even high-level leaders rarely went beyond the first chapter of Capital. But at the end of the 1950s, the effervescence of the years to come was already nascent: this extraordinary revivalthe rediscovery of Marxism and the great dialectical texts and traditions in the 1960s: an excitement that identifies a forgotten or repressed moment of the past as the new and subversive, and learns the dialectical grammar of a Hegel or an Adorno, a Marx or a Lukács, like a foreign language that has resources unavailable in our own. And what is more: the Chinese and Cuban revolutions, the war in Vietnam, guerrilla warfare of all kinds, national liberation movements, and a rare libertarian disposition in contemporary history, totally averse to fanaticism and respect for ideological apparatuses ofstate or institution. Going against the grain was almost the norm. We were of course no more than contemporaries of our time. We were soon able to position ourselves from chapters 13, 14, and 15 of Capital, but only because we could constantly cross-reference Marx with our observations from well-contrasted building sites and do our own experimenting. As soon as we identified construction as manufacture, for example, thanks to the willingness and even encouragement of two friends and clients, Boris Fausto and Bernardo Issler, I was able to test both types of manufacture — organic and heterogeneous — on similar-sized projects taking place simultaneously, in order to find out which would be most convenient for the situation in Brazil, particularly in São Paulo. Despite the scientific shortcomings of these tests, they sufficed for us to select organic manufacture. Arquitetura Nova had defined its line of practice, studies, and research. There were other sources that were central to our theory and practice. Flávio Império was one of the founders of the Teatro de Arena, undoubtedly the vanguard of popular, militant theatre in Brazil. He won practically every set design award. He brought us his marvelous findings in spatial condensation and malleability, and in the creative diversion of techniques and material—appropriate devices for an underdeveloped country. This is what helped us pave the way to reformulating the reigning design paradigms.  We had to do what Flávio had done in the theatre: thoroughly rethink how to be an architect. Upend the perspective. The way we were taught was to start from a desired result; then others would take care of getting there, no matter how. We, on the other hand, set out to go down to the building site and accompany those carrying out the labor itself, those who actually build, the formally subsumed workers in manufacture who are increasingly deprived of the knowledge and know-how presupposed by this kind of subsumption. We should have been fostering the reconstitution of this knowledge and know-how—not so as to fulfil this assumption, but in order to reinvigorate the other side of this assumption according to Marx: the historical rebellion of the manufacture worker, especially the construction worker. We had to rekindle the demand that fueled this rebellion: total self-determination, and not just that of the manual operation as such. Our aim was above all political and ethical. Aesthetics only mattered by way of what it included—ethics. Instead of estética, we wrote est ética. We wanted to make building sites into nests for the return of revolutionary syndicalism, which we ourselves had yet to discover. Sérgio Ferro, born in Brazil in 1938, studied architecture at FAUUSP, São Paulo. In the 1960s, he joined the Brazilian communist party and started, along with Rodrigo Lefevre and Flávio Império, the collective known as Arquitetura Nova. After being arrested by the military dictatorship that took power in Brazil in 1964, he moved to France as an exile. As a painter and a professor at the École Nationale Supérieure d’Architecture de Grenoble, where he founded the Dessin/Chantier laboratory, he engaged in extensive research which resulted in several publications, exhibitions, and awards in Brazil and in France, including the title of Chevalier des Arts et des Lettres in 1992. Following his retirement from teaching, Ferro continues to research, write, and paint. #excerpt #new #book #sérgio #ferro
    An excerpt from a new book by Sérgio Ferro, published by MACK Books, showcases the architect’s moment of disenchantment
    Last year, MACK Books published Architecture from Below, which anthologized writings by the French Brazilian architect, theorist, and painter Sérgio Ferro. (Douglas Spencer reviewed it for AN.) Now, MACK follows with Design and the Building Site and Complementary Essays, the second in the trilogy of books dedicated to Ferro’s scholarship. The following excerpt of the author’s 2023 preface to the English edition, which preserves its British phrasing, captures Ferro’s realization about the working conditions of construction sites in Brasília. The sentiment is likely relatable even today for young architects as they discover how drawings become buildings. Design and the Building Site and Complementary Essays will be released on May 22. If I remember correctly, it was in 1958 or 1959, when Rodrigo and I were second- or third year architecture students at FAUUSP, that my father, the real estate developer Armando Simone Pereira, commissioned us to design two large office buildings and eleven shops in Brasilia, which was then under construction. Of course, we were not adequately prepared for such an undertaking. Fortunately, Oscar Niemeyer and his team, who were responsible for overseeing the construction of the capital, had drawn up a detailed document determining the essential characteristics of all the private sector buildings. We followed these prescriptions to the letter, which saved us from disaster. Nowadays, it is hard to imagine the degree to which the construction of Brasilia inspired enthusiasm and professional pride in the country’s architects. And in the national imagination, the city’s establishment in the supposedly unpopulated hinterland evoked a re-founding of Brazil. Up until that point, the occupation of our immense territory had been reduced to a collection of arborescent communication routes, generally converging upon some river, following it up to the Atlantic Ocean. Through its ports, agricultural or extractive commodities produced by enslaved peoples or their substitutes passed towards the metropolises; goods were exchanged in the metropolises for more elaborate products, which took the opposite route. Our national identity was summed up in a few symbols, such as the anthem or the flag, and this scattering of paths pointing overseas. Brasilia would radically change this situation, or so we believed. It would create a central hub where the internal communication routes could converge, linking together hithertoseparate junctions, stimulating trade and economic progress in the country’s interior. It was as if, for the first time, we were taking care of ourselves. At the nucleus of this centripetal movement, architecture would embody the renaissance. And at the naval of the nucleus, the symbolic mandala of this utopia: the cathedral. Rodrigo and I got caught up in the euphoria. And perhaps more so than our colleagues, because we were taking part in the adventure with ‘our’ designs. The reality was very different — but we did not know that yet. At that time, architects in Brazil were responsible for verifying that the construction was in line with the design. We had already monitored some of our first building sites. But the construction company in charge of them, Osmar Souza e Silva’s CENPLA, specialized in the building sites of modernist architects from the so-called Escola Paulista led by Vilanova Artigas (which we aspired to be a part of, like the pretentious students we were). Osmar was very attentive to his clients and his workers, who formed a supportive and helpful team. He was even more careful with us, because he knew how inexperienced we were. I believe that the CENPLA was particularly important in São Paulo modernism: with its congeniality, it facilitated experimentation, but for the same reason, it deceived novices like us about the reality of other building sites. Consequently, Rodrigo and I travelled to Brasilia several times to check that the constructions followed ‘our’ designs and to resolve any issues. From the very first trip, our little bubble burst. Our building sites, like all the others in the future capital, bore no relation to Osmar’s. They were more like a branch of hell. A huge, muddy wasteland, in which a few cranes, pile drivers, tractors, and excavators dotted the mound of scaffolding occupied by thousands of skinny, seemingly exhausted wretches, who were nevertheless driven on by the shouts of master builders and foremen, in turn pressured by the imminence of the fateful inauguration date. Surrounding or huddled underneath the marquees of buildings under construction, entire families, equally skeletal and ragged, were waiting for some accident or death to open up a vacancy. In contact only with the master builders, and under close surveillance so we would not speak to the workers, we were not allowed to see what comrades who had worked on these sites later told us in prison: suicide abounded; escape was known to be futile in the unpopulated surroundings with no viable roads; fatal accidents were often caused by weakness due to chronic diarrhoea, brought on by rotten food that came from far away; outright theft took place in the calculation of wages and expenses in the contractor’s grocery store; camps were surrounded by law enforcement. I repeat this anecdote yet again not to invoke the benevolence of potential readers, but rather to point out the conditions that, in my opinion, allowed two students (Flávio Império joined us a little later) still in their professional infancy to quickly adopt positions that were contrary to the usual stance of architects. As the project was more Oscar Niemeyer’s than it was our own, we did not have the same emotional attachment that is understandably engendered between real authors and their designs. We had not yet been imbued with the charm and aura of the métier. And the only building sites we had visited thus far, Osmar’s, were incomparable to those we discovered in Brasilia. In short, our youthfulness and unpreparedness up against an unbearable situation made us react almost immediately to the profession’s satisfied doxa. Unprepared and young perhaps, but already with Marx by our side. Rodrigo and I joined the student cell of the Brazilian Communist Party during our first year at university. In itself, this did not help us much: the Party’s Marxism, revised in the interests of the USSR, was pitiful. Even high-level leaders rarely went beyond the first chapter of Capital. But at the end of the 1950s, the effervescence of the years to come was already nascent:  […] this extraordinary revival […] the rediscovery of Marxism and the great dialectical texts and traditions in the 1960s: an excitement that identifies a forgotten or repressed moment of the past as the new and subversive, and learns the dialectical grammar of a Hegel or an Adorno, a Marx or a Lukács, like a foreign language that has resources unavailable in our own. And what is more: the Chinese and Cuban revolutions, the war in Vietnam, guerrilla warfare of all kinds, national liberation movements, and a rare libertarian disposition in contemporary history, totally averse to fanaticism and respect for ideological apparatuses of (any) state or institution. Going against the grain was almost the norm. We were of course no more than contemporaries of our time. We were soon able to position ourselves from chapters 13, 14, and 15 of Capital, but only because we could constantly cross-reference Marx with our observations from well-contrasted building sites and do our own experimenting. As soon as we identified construction as manufacture, for example, thanks to the willingness and even encouragement of two friends and clients, Boris Fausto and Bernardo Issler, I was able to test both types of manufacture — organic and heterogeneous — on similar-sized projects taking place simultaneously, in order to find out which would be most convenient for the situation in Brazil, particularly in São Paulo. Despite the scientific shortcomings of these tests, they sufficed for us to select organic manufacture. Arquitetura Nova had defined its line of practice, studies, and research. There were other sources that were central to our theory and practice. Flávio Império was one of the founders of the Teatro de Arena, undoubtedly the vanguard of popular, militant theatre in Brazil. He won practically every set design award. He brought us his marvelous findings in spatial condensation and malleability, and in the creative diversion of techniques and material—appropriate devices for an underdeveloped country. This is what helped us pave the way to reformulating the reigning design paradigms.  We had to do what Flávio had done in the theatre: thoroughly rethink how to be an architect. Upend the perspective. The way we were taught was to start from a desired result; then others would take care of getting there, no matter how. We, on the other hand, set out to go down to the building site and accompany those carrying out the labor itself, those who actually build, the formally subsumed workers in manufacture who are increasingly deprived of the knowledge and know-how presupposed by this kind of subsumption. We should have been fostering the reconstitution of this knowledge and know-how—not so as to fulfil this assumption, but in order to reinvigorate the other side of this assumption according to Marx: the historical rebellion of the manufacture worker, especially the construction worker. We had to rekindle the demand that fueled this rebellion: total self-determination, and not just that of the manual operation as such. Our aim was above all political and ethical. Aesthetics only mattered by way of what it included—ethics. Instead of estética, we wrote est ética [this is ethics]. We wanted to make building sites into nests for the return of revolutionary syndicalism, which we ourselves had yet to discover. Sérgio Ferro, born in Brazil in 1938, studied architecture at FAUUSP, São Paulo. In the 1960s, he joined the Brazilian communist party and started, along with Rodrigo Lefevre and Flávio Império, the collective known as Arquitetura Nova. After being arrested by the military dictatorship that took power in Brazil in 1964, he moved to France as an exile. As a painter and a professor at the École Nationale Supérieure d’Architecture de Grenoble, where he founded the Dessin/Chantier laboratory, he engaged in extensive research which resulted in several publications, exhibitions, and awards in Brazil and in France, including the title of Chevalier des Arts et des Lettres in 1992. Following his retirement from teaching, Ferro continues to research, write, and paint.
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  • Paper Architecture: From Soviet Subversion to Zaha’s Suprematism

    Architizer’s Vision Awards are back! The global awards program honors the world’s best architectural concepts, ideas and imagery. Submit your work ahead of the Final Entry Deadline on July 11th!
    Behind the term “paper architecture” hides a strange paradox: the radical act of building without, well, building. Paper architecture is usually associated with speculative design projects, presented in the form of drawings, which can also be considered art pieces. However, even though it is often dismissed as a mere utopian or academic exercise, paper architecture has historically served as a powerful form of protest, advocating against political regimes, architectural orthodoxy or cultural stagnation.
    Unbound by real-world limitations such as materials, regulations and budgets, paper architects are free to focus on the messages behind their designs rather than constantly striving for their implementation. In parallel, due to its subtleness, paper architecture has become a platform that enables radical commentary via a rather “safe” medium. Instead of relying on more traditional forms of protestthis powerful visual language, combined with scrupulous aesthetics and imagination can start a more formidable “behind-the-scenes rebellion”.
    Unearthing Nostalgia by Bruno Xavier & Michelle Ashley Ovanessians, A+ Vision Awards, 2023
    Perhaps the most well-known paper architects, Archigram was a radical British collective that was formed in the 1960s in London. Their work Walking City or Plug-In City showcased visions of a playful, technologically driven architecture that deeply contrasted and, by extent, protested against the rigid regime of post-war modernism and its extensive bureaucracy. This pop-art-style architecture served as a powerful critique towards the saturated idea of functional monotony.
    Additionally, the Russian architect, artist, and curator, Yuri Avvakumuv introduced the term “paper architecture” within the restrictive cultural and political climate of late Soviet Russia. Having to deal with heavy censorship, Avvakumuv turned to competitions and speculative drawings in an attempt resist that dominance of totalitarian architecture. Poetic, deeply allegorical and oftentimes ironic architectural renderings, critiqued the bureaucratic sterility of Soviet planning and the state-mandated architectural principles architects had to follow. Consequently, this profound demonstration of un-built architecture within the specific setting, turned into a collective cultural wave that advocated artistic autonomy and expression for the built environment.
    Klothos’ Loom of Memories by Ioana Alexandra Enache, A+ Vision Awards, 2023
    The Amerian architect Lebbeus Woods was also one of the most intellectually intense practitioners of paper architecture, whose work touches upon global issues on war zones and urban trauma. His imaginative, post-apocalyptic cities opened up discussions for rebuilding after destruction. Works such as War and Architecture and Underground Berlin, albeit “dystopic”, acted as moral propositions, exploring potential reconstructions that would “heal” these cities. Through his drawings, he rigorously investigated and examined scenarios of ethical rebuilding, refusing to comply to the principles of popular commerce, and instead creating a new architectural practice of political resistance.
    Finally, operating within a very male-dominated world, Zaha Hadid’s earlier work — particularly on Malevich — served as a protesting tool on multiple levels. Influenced by Suprematist aesthetics, her bold, dynamic compositions stood against the formal conservatism of architectural ideas, where the design must always yield to gravity and function. In parallel, her considerable influence and dominance on the field challenged long-standing norms and served as a powerful counter-narrative against the gender biases that sidelined women in design. Ultimately, her images – part blueprints, part paintings – not only proved that architecture could be unapologetically visionary and abstract but also that materializing it is not as impossible as one would think.My Bedroom by Daniel Wing-Hou Ho, A+ Vision Awards, 2023
    Even though paper architecture began as a medium of rebellion against architectural convention in the mid-20th century, it remains, until today, a vital tool for activism and social justice. Operating in the digital age, social media and digital platforms have amplified its reach, also having given it different visual forms such as digital collages, speculative renders, gifs, reels and interactive visual narratives. What was once a flyer, a journal or a newspaper extract, can now be found in open-source repositories, standing against authoritarianism, climate inaction, political violence and systemic inequality.
    Groups such as Forensic Architecture carry out multidisciplinary research, investigating cases of state violence and violations of human rights through rigorous mapping and speculative visualization. Additionally, competitions such as the eVolo Skyscraper or platforms like ArchOutLoud and Design Earth offer opportunities and space for architects to tackle environmental concerns and dramatize the urgency of inaction. Imaginative floating habitats, food cities, biodegradable megastructures etc. instigate debates and conversations through the form of environmental storytelling.
    The Stamper Battery by By William du Toit, A+ Vision Awards, 2023
    Despite being often condemned as “unbuildable”, “impractical” or even “escapist,” paper architecture acts as a counterweight to the discipline’s increasing instrumentalization as merely a functional or commercial enterprise. In architecture schools it is used as a prompt for “thinking differently” and a tool for “critiquing without compromise”. Above all however, paper architecture matters because it keeps architecture ethically alive. It reminds architects to ask the uncomfortable questions: how should we design for environmental sustainability, migrancy or social equality, instead of focusing on profit, convenience and spectacle? Similar to a moral compass or speculative mirror, unbuilt visions can trigger political, social and environmental turns that reshape not just how we build, but why we build at all.
    Architizer’s Vision Awards are back! The global awards program honors the world’s best architectural concepts, ideas and imagery. Submit your work ahead of the Final Entry Deadline on July 11th!
    Featured Image: Into the Void: Fragmented Time, Space, Memory, and Decay in Hiroshima by Victoria Wong, A+ Vision Awards 2023
    The post Paper Architecture: From Soviet Subversion to Zaha’s Suprematism appeared first on Journal.
    #paper #architecture #soviet #subversion #zahas
    Paper Architecture: From Soviet Subversion to Zaha’s Suprematism
    Architizer’s Vision Awards are back! The global awards program honors the world’s best architectural concepts, ideas and imagery. Submit your work ahead of the Final Entry Deadline on July 11th! Behind the term “paper architecture” hides a strange paradox: the radical act of building without, well, building. Paper architecture is usually associated with speculative design projects, presented in the form of drawings, which can also be considered art pieces. However, even though it is often dismissed as a mere utopian or academic exercise, paper architecture has historically served as a powerful form of protest, advocating against political regimes, architectural orthodoxy or cultural stagnation. Unbound by real-world limitations such as materials, regulations and budgets, paper architects are free to focus on the messages behind their designs rather than constantly striving for their implementation. In parallel, due to its subtleness, paper architecture has become a platform that enables radical commentary via a rather “safe” medium. Instead of relying on more traditional forms of protestthis powerful visual language, combined with scrupulous aesthetics and imagination can start a more formidable “behind-the-scenes rebellion”. Unearthing Nostalgia by Bruno Xavier & Michelle Ashley Ovanessians, A+ Vision Awards, 2023 Perhaps the most well-known paper architects, Archigram was a radical British collective that was formed in the 1960s in London. Their work Walking City or Plug-In City showcased visions of a playful, technologically driven architecture that deeply contrasted and, by extent, protested against the rigid regime of post-war modernism and its extensive bureaucracy. This pop-art-style architecture served as a powerful critique towards the saturated idea of functional monotony. Additionally, the Russian architect, artist, and curator, Yuri Avvakumuv introduced the term “paper architecture” within the restrictive cultural and political climate of late Soviet Russia. Having to deal with heavy censorship, Avvakumuv turned to competitions and speculative drawings in an attempt resist that dominance of totalitarian architecture. Poetic, deeply allegorical and oftentimes ironic architectural renderings, critiqued the bureaucratic sterility of Soviet planning and the state-mandated architectural principles architects had to follow. Consequently, this profound demonstration of un-built architecture within the specific setting, turned into a collective cultural wave that advocated artistic autonomy and expression for the built environment. Klothos’ Loom of Memories by Ioana Alexandra Enache, A+ Vision Awards, 2023 The Amerian architect Lebbeus Woods was also one of the most intellectually intense practitioners of paper architecture, whose work touches upon global issues on war zones and urban trauma. His imaginative, post-apocalyptic cities opened up discussions for rebuilding after destruction. Works such as War and Architecture and Underground Berlin, albeit “dystopic”, acted as moral propositions, exploring potential reconstructions that would “heal” these cities. Through his drawings, he rigorously investigated and examined scenarios of ethical rebuilding, refusing to comply to the principles of popular commerce, and instead creating a new architectural practice of political resistance. Finally, operating within a very male-dominated world, Zaha Hadid’s earlier work — particularly on Malevich — served as a protesting tool on multiple levels. Influenced by Suprematist aesthetics, her bold, dynamic compositions stood against the formal conservatism of architectural ideas, where the design must always yield to gravity and function. In parallel, her considerable influence and dominance on the field challenged long-standing norms and served as a powerful counter-narrative against the gender biases that sidelined women in design. Ultimately, her images – part blueprints, part paintings – not only proved that architecture could be unapologetically visionary and abstract but also that materializing it is not as impossible as one would think.My Bedroom by Daniel Wing-Hou Ho, A+ Vision Awards, 2023 Even though paper architecture began as a medium of rebellion against architectural convention in the mid-20th century, it remains, until today, a vital tool for activism and social justice. Operating in the digital age, social media and digital platforms have amplified its reach, also having given it different visual forms such as digital collages, speculative renders, gifs, reels and interactive visual narratives. What was once a flyer, a journal or a newspaper extract, can now be found in open-source repositories, standing against authoritarianism, climate inaction, political violence and systemic inequality. Groups such as Forensic Architecture carry out multidisciplinary research, investigating cases of state violence and violations of human rights through rigorous mapping and speculative visualization. Additionally, competitions such as the eVolo Skyscraper or platforms like ArchOutLoud and Design Earth offer opportunities and space for architects to tackle environmental concerns and dramatize the urgency of inaction. Imaginative floating habitats, food cities, biodegradable megastructures etc. instigate debates and conversations through the form of environmental storytelling. The Stamper Battery by By William du Toit, A+ Vision Awards, 2023 Despite being often condemned as “unbuildable”, “impractical” or even “escapist,” paper architecture acts as a counterweight to the discipline’s increasing instrumentalization as merely a functional or commercial enterprise. In architecture schools it is used as a prompt for “thinking differently” and a tool for “critiquing without compromise”. Above all however, paper architecture matters because it keeps architecture ethically alive. It reminds architects to ask the uncomfortable questions: how should we design for environmental sustainability, migrancy or social equality, instead of focusing on profit, convenience and spectacle? Similar to a moral compass or speculative mirror, unbuilt visions can trigger political, social and environmental turns that reshape not just how we build, but why we build at all. Architizer’s Vision Awards are back! The global awards program honors the world’s best architectural concepts, ideas and imagery. Submit your work ahead of the Final Entry Deadline on July 11th! Featured Image: Into the Void: Fragmented Time, Space, Memory, and Decay in Hiroshima by Victoria Wong, A+ Vision Awards 2023 The post Paper Architecture: From Soviet Subversion to Zaha’s Suprematism appeared first on Journal. #paper #architecture #soviet #subversion #zahas
    ARCHITIZER.COM
    Paper Architecture: From Soviet Subversion to Zaha’s Suprematism
    Architizer’s Vision Awards are back! The global awards program honors the world’s best architectural concepts, ideas and imagery. Submit your work ahead of the Final Entry Deadline on July 11th! Behind the term “paper architecture” hides a strange paradox: the radical act of building without, well, building. Paper architecture is usually associated with speculative design projects, presented in the form of drawings, which can also be considered art pieces. However, even though it is often dismissed as a mere utopian or academic exercise, paper architecture has historically served as a powerful form of protest, advocating against political regimes, architectural orthodoxy or cultural stagnation. Unbound by real-world limitations such as materials, regulations and budgets, paper architects are free to focus on the messages behind their designs rather than constantly striving for their implementation. In parallel, due to its subtleness, paper architecture has become a platform that enables radical commentary via a rather “safe” medium. Instead of relying on more traditional forms of protest (such as strikes or marches) this powerful visual language, combined with scrupulous aesthetics and imagination can start a more formidable “behind-the-scenes rebellion”. Unearthing Nostalgia by Bruno Xavier & Michelle Ashley Ovanessians, A+ Vision Awards, 2023 Perhaps the most well-known paper architects, Archigram was a radical British collective that was formed in the 1960s in London. Their work Walking City or Plug-In City showcased visions of a playful, technologically driven architecture that deeply contrasted and, by extent, protested against the rigid regime of post-war modernism and its extensive bureaucracy. This pop-art-style architecture served as a powerful critique towards the saturated idea of functional monotony. Additionally, the Russian architect, artist, and curator, Yuri Avvakumuv introduced the term “paper architecture” within the restrictive cultural and political climate of late Soviet Russia (1984). Having to deal with heavy censorship, Avvakumuv turned to competitions and speculative drawings in an attempt resist that dominance of totalitarian architecture. Poetic, deeply allegorical and oftentimes ironic architectural renderings, critiqued the bureaucratic sterility of Soviet planning and the state-mandated architectural principles architects had to follow. Consequently, this profound demonstration of un-built architecture within the specific setting, turned into a collective cultural wave that advocated artistic autonomy and expression for the built environment. Klothos’ Loom of Memories by Ioana Alexandra Enache, A+ Vision Awards, 2023 The Amerian architect Lebbeus Woods was also one of the most intellectually intense practitioners of paper architecture, whose work touches upon global issues on war zones and urban trauma. His imaginative, post-apocalyptic cities opened up discussions for rebuilding after destruction. Works such as War and Architecture and Underground Berlin, albeit “dystopic”, acted as moral propositions, exploring potential reconstructions that would “heal” these cities. Through his drawings, he rigorously investigated and examined scenarios of ethical rebuilding, refusing to comply to the principles of popular commerce, and instead creating a new architectural practice of political resistance. Finally, operating within a very male-dominated world, Zaha Hadid’s earlier work — particularly on Malevich — served as a protesting tool on multiple levels. Influenced by Suprematist aesthetics, her bold, dynamic compositions stood against the formal conservatism of architectural ideas, where the design must always yield to gravity and function. In parallel, her considerable influence and dominance on the field challenged long-standing norms and served as a powerful counter-narrative against the gender biases that sidelined women in design. Ultimately, her images – part blueprints, part paintings – not only proved that architecture could be unapologetically visionary and abstract but also that materializing it is not as impossible as one would think. (Your) My Bedroom by Daniel Wing-Hou Ho, A+ Vision Awards, 2023 Even though paper architecture began as a medium of rebellion against architectural convention in the mid-20th century, it remains, until today, a vital tool for activism and social justice. Operating in the digital age, social media and digital platforms have amplified its reach, also having given it different visual forms such as digital collages, speculative renders, gifs, reels and interactive visual narratives. What was once a flyer, a journal or a newspaper extract, can now be found in open-source repositories, standing against authoritarianism, climate inaction, political violence and systemic inequality. Groups such as Forensic Architecture (Goldsmiths, University of London)  carry out multidisciplinary research, investigating cases of state violence and violations of human rights through rigorous mapping and speculative visualization. Additionally, competitions such as the eVolo Skyscraper or platforms like ArchOutLoud and Design Earth offer opportunities and space for architects to tackle environmental concerns and dramatize the urgency of inaction. Imaginative floating habitats, food cities, biodegradable megastructures etc. instigate debates and conversations through the form of environmental storytelling. The Stamper Battery by By William du Toit, A+ Vision Awards, 2023 Despite being often condemned as “unbuildable”, “impractical” or even “escapist,” paper architecture acts as a counterweight to the discipline’s increasing instrumentalization as merely a functional or commercial enterprise. In architecture schools it is used as a prompt for “thinking differently” and a tool for “critiquing without compromise”. Above all however, paper architecture matters because it keeps architecture ethically alive. It reminds architects to ask the uncomfortable questions: how should we design for environmental sustainability, migrancy or social equality, instead of focusing on profit, convenience and spectacle? Similar to a moral compass or speculative mirror, unbuilt visions can trigger political, social and environmental turns that reshape not just how we build, but why we build at all. Architizer’s Vision Awards are back! The global awards program honors the world’s best architectural concepts, ideas and imagery. Submit your work ahead of the Final Entry Deadline on July 11th! Featured Image: Into the Void: Fragmented Time, Space, Memory, and Decay in Hiroshima by Victoria Wong, A+ Vision Awards 2023 The post Paper Architecture: From Soviet Subversion to Zaha’s Suprematism appeared first on Journal.
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  • FBC: Firebreak developers discuss the inspiration and challenges creating their first multiplayer title

    Things are warming up as Remedy’s FBC: Firebreak approaches its June 17 launch on PlayStation 5 as part of the PlayStation Plus Game Catalog. We chatted with Communications Director Thomas Puha, Lead Level Designer Teemu Huhtiniemi, Lead Designer/Lead Technical Designer Anssi Hyytiainen, and Game Director/Lead Writer Mike Kayatta about some of the fascinating and often hilarious development secrets behind the first-person shooter.

    PlayStation Blog: First, what PS5 and PS5 Pro features did you utilize?

    Thomas Puha: We’ll support 3D Audio, and we’re prioritising 60 FPS on both formats. We’re aiming for FSR2 with an output resolution of 2560 x 1440on PS, and PSSR with an output resolution of 3840×2160on PS5 Pro.

    Some of the DualSense wireless controller’s features are still a work in progress, but we’re looking to use haptic feedback in a similar way to our previous titles, such as Control and Alan Wake 2. For example, we want to differentiate the weapons to feel unique from each other using the adaptive triggers.

    Going into the game itself, were there any other influences on its creation outside of Control?

    Mike Kayatta: We looked at different TV shows that had lots of tools for going into a place and dealing with a crisis. One was a reality show called Dirty Jobs, where the host Mike Rowe finds these terrible, dangerous, or unexpected jobs that you don’t know exist, like cleaning out the inside of a water tower.

    We also looked at PowerWash Simulator. Cleaning dirt is oddly meditative and really fulfilling. It made me wish a zombie attacked me to break the Zen, and then I’d go right back to cleaning. And we were like, that would be pretty fun in the game.

    Play Video

    Were there specific challenges you faced given it’s your first multiplayer game and first-person shooter?

    Anssi Hyytiainen: It’s radically different from a workflow point of view. You can’t really test it alone, necessarily, which is quite a different experience. And then there are times when one player is missing things on their screen that others are seeing. It was like, “What are you shooting at?”

    What’s been your favorite moments developing the game so far?

    Teemu Huhtiniemi: There were so many. But I like when we started seeing all of these overlapping systems kind of click, because there’s a long time in the development where you talk about things on paper and have some prototypes, but you don’t really see it all come together until a point. Then you start seeing the interaction between the systems and all the fun that comes out of that.

    Kayatta: I imagine there’s a lot of people who probably are a little skeptical about Remedy making something so different. Even internally, when the project was starting. And once we got the trailer out there, everyone was so nervous, but it got a pretty positive reaction. Exposing it to the public is very motivating, because with games, for a very long time, there is nothing, or it is janky and it’s ugly and you don’t find the fun immediately.

    Were there any specific ideals you followed while you worked on the game?

    Kayatta: Early on we were constantly asking ourselves, “Could this only happen in Control or at Remedy?” Because the first thing you hear is, “Okay, this is just another co-op multiplayer shooter” – there’s thousands of them, and they’re all good. So what can we do to make it worth playing our game? We were always saying we’ve got this super weird universe and really interesting studio, so we’re always looking at what we could do that nobody else can.

    Huhtiniemi: I think for me it was when we chose to just embrace the chaos. Like, that’s the whole point of the game. It’s supposed to feel overwhelming and busy at times, so that was great to say it out loud.

    Kayatta: Yeah, originally we had a prototype where there were only two Hiss in the level, but it just didn’t work, it wasn’t fun. Then everything just accidentally went in the opposite direction, where it was super chaos. At some point we actually started looking at Overcooked quite a bit, and saying, “Look, just embrace it. It’s gonna be nuts.”

    How did you finally decide on the name FBC: Firebreak, and were there any rejected, alternate, or working titles?

    Kayatta: So Firebreak is named after real world firebreaks, where you deforest an area to prevent a fire from spreading, but firebreaks are also topographical features of the Oldest House. And so we leaned into the term being a first responder who stops fires from spreading. The FBC part came from not wanting to put ‘Control’ in the title, so Control players wouldn’t feel like they had to detour to this before Control 2, but we didn’t want to totally detach from it either as that felt insincere.

    An external partner pitched a title. They were very serious about talking up the game being in the Oldest House, and then dramatically revealed the name: Housekeepers. I got what they were going for, but I was like, we cannot call it this. It was like you were playing as a maid!  

    FBC: Firebreak launches on PS5 June 17 as a day on PlayStation Plus Game Catalog title.
    #fbc #firebreak #developers #discuss #inspiration
    FBC: Firebreak developers discuss the inspiration and challenges creating their first multiplayer title
    Things are warming up as Remedy’s FBC: Firebreak approaches its June 17 launch on PlayStation 5 as part of the PlayStation Plus Game Catalog. We chatted with Communications Director Thomas Puha, Lead Level Designer Teemu Huhtiniemi, Lead Designer/Lead Technical Designer Anssi Hyytiainen, and Game Director/Lead Writer Mike Kayatta about some of the fascinating and often hilarious development secrets behind the first-person shooter. PlayStation Blog: First, what PS5 and PS5 Pro features did you utilize? Thomas Puha: We’ll support 3D Audio, and we’re prioritising 60 FPS on both formats. We’re aiming for FSR2 with an output resolution of 2560 x 1440on PS, and PSSR with an output resolution of 3840×2160on PS5 Pro. Some of the DualSense wireless controller’s features are still a work in progress, but we’re looking to use haptic feedback in a similar way to our previous titles, such as Control and Alan Wake 2. For example, we want to differentiate the weapons to feel unique from each other using the adaptive triggers. Going into the game itself, were there any other influences on its creation outside of Control? Mike Kayatta: We looked at different TV shows that had lots of tools for going into a place and dealing with a crisis. One was a reality show called Dirty Jobs, where the host Mike Rowe finds these terrible, dangerous, or unexpected jobs that you don’t know exist, like cleaning out the inside of a water tower. We also looked at PowerWash Simulator. Cleaning dirt is oddly meditative and really fulfilling. It made me wish a zombie attacked me to break the Zen, and then I’d go right back to cleaning. And we were like, that would be pretty fun in the game. Play Video Were there specific challenges you faced given it’s your first multiplayer game and first-person shooter? Anssi Hyytiainen: It’s radically different from a workflow point of view. You can’t really test it alone, necessarily, which is quite a different experience. And then there are times when one player is missing things on their screen that others are seeing. It was like, “What are you shooting at?” What’s been your favorite moments developing the game so far? Teemu Huhtiniemi: There were so many. But I like when we started seeing all of these overlapping systems kind of click, because there’s a long time in the development where you talk about things on paper and have some prototypes, but you don’t really see it all come together until a point. Then you start seeing the interaction between the systems and all the fun that comes out of that. Kayatta: I imagine there’s a lot of people who probably are a little skeptical about Remedy making something so different. Even internally, when the project was starting. And once we got the trailer out there, everyone was so nervous, but it got a pretty positive reaction. Exposing it to the public is very motivating, because with games, for a very long time, there is nothing, or it is janky and it’s ugly and you don’t find the fun immediately. Were there any specific ideals you followed while you worked on the game? Kayatta: Early on we were constantly asking ourselves, “Could this only happen in Control or at Remedy?” Because the first thing you hear is, “Okay, this is just another co-op multiplayer shooter” – there’s thousands of them, and they’re all good. So what can we do to make it worth playing our game? We were always saying we’ve got this super weird universe and really interesting studio, so we’re always looking at what we could do that nobody else can. Huhtiniemi: I think for me it was when we chose to just embrace the chaos. Like, that’s the whole point of the game. It’s supposed to feel overwhelming and busy at times, so that was great to say it out loud. Kayatta: Yeah, originally we had a prototype where there were only two Hiss in the level, but it just didn’t work, it wasn’t fun. Then everything just accidentally went in the opposite direction, where it was super chaos. At some point we actually started looking at Overcooked quite a bit, and saying, “Look, just embrace it. It’s gonna be nuts.” How did you finally decide on the name FBC: Firebreak, and were there any rejected, alternate, or working titles? Kayatta: So Firebreak is named after real world firebreaks, where you deforest an area to prevent a fire from spreading, but firebreaks are also topographical features of the Oldest House. And so we leaned into the term being a first responder who stops fires from spreading. The FBC part came from not wanting to put ‘Control’ in the title, so Control players wouldn’t feel like they had to detour to this before Control 2, but we didn’t want to totally detach from it either as that felt insincere. An external partner pitched a title. They were very serious about talking up the game being in the Oldest House, and then dramatically revealed the name: Housekeepers. I got what they were going for, but I was like, we cannot call it this. It was like you were playing as a maid!   FBC: Firebreak launches on PS5 June 17 as a day on PlayStation Plus Game Catalog title. #fbc #firebreak #developers #discuss #inspiration
    BLOG.PLAYSTATION.COM
    FBC: Firebreak developers discuss the inspiration and challenges creating their first multiplayer title
    Things are warming up as Remedy’s FBC: Firebreak approaches its June 17 launch on PlayStation 5 as part of the PlayStation Plus Game Catalog. We chatted with Communications Director Thomas Puha, Lead Level Designer Teemu Huhtiniemi, Lead Designer/Lead Technical Designer Anssi Hyytiainen, and Game Director/Lead Writer Mike Kayatta about some of the fascinating and often hilarious development secrets behind the first-person shooter. PlayStation Blog: First, what PS5 and PS5 Pro features did you utilize? Thomas Puha: We’ll support 3D Audio, and we’re prioritising 60 FPS on both formats. We’re aiming for FSR2 with an output resolution of 2560 x 1440 (1440p) on PS, and PSSR with an output resolution of 3840×2160 (4K) on PS5 Pro. Some of the DualSense wireless controller’s features are still a work in progress, but we’re looking to use haptic feedback in a similar way to our previous titles, such as Control and Alan Wake 2. For example, we want to differentiate the weapons to feel unique from each other using the adaptive triggers. Going into the game itself, were there any other influences on its creation outside of Control? Mike Kayatta: We looked at different TV shows that had lots of tools for going into a place and dealing with a crisis. One was a reality show called Dirty Jobs, where the host Mike Rowe finds these terrible, dangerous, or unexpected jobs that you don’t know exist, like cleaning out the inside of a water tower. We also looked at PowerWash Simulator. Cleaning dirt is oddly meditative and really fulfilling. It made me wish a zombie attacked me to break the Zen, and then I’d go right back to cleaning. And we were like, that would be pretty fun in the game. Play Video Were there specific challenges you faced given it’s your first multiplayer game and first-person shooter? Anssi Hyytiainen: It’s radically different from a workflow point of view. You can’t really test it alone, necessarily, which is quite a different experience. And then there are times when one player is missing things on their screen that others are seeing. It was like, “What are you shooting at?” What’s been your favorite moments developing the game so far? Teemu Huhtiniemi: There were so many. But I like when we started seeing all of these overlapping systems kind of click, because there’s a long time in the development where you talk about things on paper and have some prototypes, but you don’t really see it all come together until a point. Then you start seeing the interaction between the systems and all the fun that comes out of that. Kayatta: I imagine there’s a lot of people who probably are a little skeptical about Remedy making something so different. Even internally, when the project was starting. And once we got the trailer out there, everyone was so nervous, but it got a pretty positive reaction. Exposing it to the public is very motivating, because with games, for a very long time, there is nothing, or it is janky and it’s ugly and you don’t find the fun immediately. Were there any specific ideals you followed while you worked on the game? Kayatta: Early on we were constantly asking ourselves, “Could this only happen in Control or at Remedy?” Because the first thing you hear is, “Okay, this is just another co-op multiplayer shooter” – there’s thousands of them, and they’re all good. So what can we do to make it worth playing our game? We were always saying we’ve got this super weird universe and really interesting studio, so we’re always looking at what we could do that nobody else can. Huhtiniemi: I think for me it was when we chose to just embrace the chaos. Like, that’s the whole point of the game. It’s supposed to feel overwhelming and busy at times, so that was great to say it out loud. Kayatta: Yeah, originally we had a prototype where there were only two Hiss in the level, but it just didn’t work, it wasn’t fun. Then everything just accidentally went in the opposite direction, where it was super chaos. At some point we actually started looking at Overcooked quite a bit, and saying, “Look, just embrace it. It’s gonna be nuts.” How did you finally decide on the name FBC: Firebreak, and were there any rejected, alternate, or working titles? Kayatta: So Firebreak is named after real world firebreaks, where you deforest an area to prevent a fire from spreading, but firebreaks are also topographical features of the Oldest House. And so we leaned into the term being a first responder who stops fires from spreading. The FBC part came from not wanting to put ‘Control’ in the title, so Control players wouldn’t feel like they had to detour to this before Control 2, but we didn’t want to totally detach from it either as that felt insincere. An external partner pitched a title. They were very serious about talking up the game being in the Oldest House, and then dramatically revealed the name: Housekeepers. I got what they were going for, but I was like, we cannot call it this. It was like you were playing as a maid!   FBC: Firebreak launches on PS5 June 17 as a day on PlayStation Plus Game Catalog title.
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