On Tuesday, OpenAI announced that it had found a solution for a famous unsolved problem in mathematics by using a swarm of advanced AI agents. But the occasion quickly unraveled into an explosive scandal, with mathematicians accusing the company of stealing their work.
OpenAI’s purported solution was for one of the so-called Navier-Stokes equations, which mathematically describe how fluids, ranging from wind to ocean currents, move and behave. These differential equations — equations that describe how different quantities change in relation to others — have been used for nearly two centuries with reliable results, but scientists have long wondered if there are scenarios where their predictions break down and describe something that’s physically impossible. In 2000, the Clay Mathematics Institute listed the Navier-Stokes as one of its six Millennium Problems, with a prize of $1 million for being the first to solve each one.
Enter OpenAI, which claims it found a way to break the Navier-Stokes by unleashing 10,000 of its AI agents on the problem for 88 hours, costing millions of dollars in computing costs, according to OpenAI’s head of research Mark Chen. The long and short of some exceedingly complicated math was that the legions of AI agents identified an apparent scenario in which the equations can describe fluids accelerating to an infinite velocity — resulting a so-called “blowup” or singularity. This, as far as we know, is impossible, thus demonstrating that the equations have a breaking point.
But hours before OpenAI’s formal announcement came an explosive claim from the NYU mathematician Tristan Buckmaster, who had been working on the problem for years before OpenAI got involved, and was close to publishing his own solution.
In a lengthy public statement, Buckmaster accused OpenAI’s solution of following a suspiciously similar path to his own, and said that the AI company only poured its resources into the Navier-Stokes after recently learning about the progress Buckmaster and his colleague Levent Alpöge, a mathematician at OpenAI’s biggest rival Anthropic, had been making.
Adding to the suspicion, Buckmaster said he had been using OpenAI’s Codex tool to help check his work, insinuating that the company accessed his sessions, accidentally or intentionally, to copy it. When Buckmaster asked OpenAI about this, he didn’t get an answer, he claimed.
OpenAI’s response to Buckmaster’s allegations only added fuel to the fire. While denying that its researchers and AI agents accessed or saw the mathematician’s work before it was publicly released, OpenAI also admitted that it “cannot rule out that de-identified data derived from their usage of our products helped improve our models.”
That’s not all. Buckmaster also alleges that OpenAI mathematician Sébastien Bubeck pressured him to cut Alpöge as an author on his paper, which Buckmaster implies is because Alpöge worked for Anthropic. When Buckmaster refused and threatened to go public, Bubeck allegedly replied, “Why would you ruin your career?”
Bubeck has denied Buckmaster’s version of events, calling them “false and inflammatory” in a public statement.
The academic community has largely been appalled by what they’re seeing.
Terence Tao, a renowned mathematician and leading authority on differential equations, excoriated what AI was doing to the field.
“We have now seen that even the rumor of someone working on a problem can trigger a massive amount of AI-powered effort to flatten it before the original research project has time to reach its full potential,” Tao wrote on Mastodon. “The incentives may now be pointing in the direction of no longer sharing any promising research directions with the broader community, which would reverse centuries of traditions of open science and do serious long-term damage to the future of the field.”
With his approval ratings in the gutter, US president Donald Trump is cooking up another cash advance for the American people, and it’s a doozy.
At the first-ever Republican Midterm Convention in Dallas, Texas — which is really more of a MAGA pep rally than a legitimate party assembly — President Trump promised that “if the Republicans win the House of Representatives and the United States Senate, both of them, I will issue a dividend to every adult citizen in the United States of America for $5,000,” the BBC reported.
“Because we’ve done so well and because our country is making so much money, that only I can make you this promise,” Trump told supporters in a slightly garbled quote, to rapturous applause. As Al Jazeera noted, the president was scant on the details around the payments, saying only that the money would have to be spent on US goods and services.
“We don’t want you going to Canada to spend the money,” Trump admonished the crowd.
Split across the entire adult-aged population of the US, we’re talking 270 million $5,000 checks. While that would no doubt provide some relief for working class families struggling under Trump’s erratic economic regime, it would immediately cost taxpayers $1.3 trillion, before factoring in administrative costs and hits to the inflation rate, per Al Jazeera.
Such a payout would essentially land straight on the US national balance sheet, Fortune explains, which is already so far in the red that it suffers a $2 trillion annual deficit.
Though the math on this is pretty simple, the massive figure leaves more questions around the theoretical payout than answers. For example, if Republicans have control of the House and the Senate, why not issue the $5,000 check now, to demonstrate what the party can do for voters? Given that Trump’s second term has been defined by brokenpromises and financialmisconduct, voters from across the political spectrum are quickly running out of patience for more GOP can-kicking.
Either way, we’re talking about an 80 year old man who recently started believing he was lifted from the rubble of the World Trade Center collapse — which is to say there’s a pretty good chance he won’t remember his $1.3 trillion promise come November.
It’s no exaggeration to say that if you own an LG smart TV, it might be spying on you.
The widely respected computer hardware experts at the YouTube channel Gamers Nexus found that the company’s boob tubes and pricey OLEDs can scan your Wi-Fi network to search for the devices you own, secretly record audio logs of your conversations using built-in microphones, and keep tabs on what you’re watching and listening to.
It collects all this data, Gamers Nexus found, even when the TV is disconnected from the internet and appears to be off in standby mode.
To unearth these surreptitious practices, Gamers Nexus partnered up with independent security researchers and Level1Techs. Their resulting two-hour video report has since been picked up by other trusted cybersecurity voices like Malwarebytes.
By digging into the firmware and intercepting some of the data the TVs were sending, the team found that the TVs were extensively scanning local Wi-Fi networks to log what devices were on it, including phones, computers, and other smart-home devices like thermostats. It even collected the names of nearby Wi-Fi networks, creating an alarmingly detailed picture of all the devices in a user’s household.
Why might that information be relevant to LG? The TVs also use a controversial technology called automated content recognition (ACR) that routinely scans and determines what you’re watching so it can sell that data to advertisers.
Combined together, they build an advanced and disturbingly comprehensive profile of what you watch and the devices you use, Gamers Nexus warn. All this data is sent back to LG Ad Solutions, its lucrative advertising business.
LG TVs, on top of it all, can also listen to you. Tests showed that their built-in microphones could capture clean audio of nearby conversations and generate transcripts of them, even when the TVs were in standby mode, which most TVs default to when you think you’ve turned them off, with the display powering down. The recording feature continued even when the TVs were unplugged from the internet, storing the audio files locally and uploading them the moment the internet connection was restored.
The researchers also found a vulnerability that allegedly allow a hacker to remotely execute code, though they’re keeping the details on this light so they can responsibly disclose their findings.
Many LG owners are furious about the news.
“LG hardware is just spyware,” fumed a post on the r/LGOLED subreddit. “You[r] TV is wiretapping your whole house.”
Smart TVs collecting data on you isn’t new — ACR in particular is well-documented — but the reported findings here illustrate a degree of invasiveness the public could only speculate about previously.
It’s far from the first time LG has caused a stir over purported privacy violations, either. Another Gamers Nexus investigation last month found that LG monitors were sneakily installing pop-up ads onto customers’ computers. The ensuing controversy caught Microsoft’s attention, with the company demanding LG remove the ads.
Elon Musk is reportedly “freaking out” over a new documentary by documentarian and investigative journalist Alex Gibney.
And by all accounts, there might be a good reason for why Musk is lashing out at Gibney, calling his work a “hit piece” and “boring af.”
The four-hour documentary, which had its world premiere today at the Venice Film Festival earlier this week, featured interviews with Musk’s first wife, Justine Musk, who has had five of his (known) 14 children.
As Agence France Presse reports after attending the premiere, an emotional Justine Musk recalled the billionaire mistakenly claim that he was holding their first child Nevada when he died due to sudden infant death syndrome, when it was actually her.
“I learned the term gaslighting through my relationship with Elon,” she said in the documentary.
She also claimed that Musk refers to the mothers of his many children as “breeders” who “are interchangeable,” a vile descriptor perfectly highlighting the entrepreneur’s deep-rooted misogyny and bizarre obsession with procreation.
The term “breeder” also highlights his troubled relationship with the at least four known women he has had children with. During the documentary’s premiere this week, Musk’s ex and former conservative influencer Ashley St. Clair, who is featured in the movie, told reporters that she was “offered the opportunity not to speak for $40 million.”
In the documentary, Justine Musk also recalled Musk whispering into her ear that he’s the “alpha in this relationship” — during their first dance at their wedding in January 2000, per AFP.
Last year, a so-called “AI actress,” dubbed Tilly Norwood sparked a near-universal backlash. The algorithmic brunette’s appearance couldn’t have come at a worse time, as the entertainment industry continued to reel from being overrun by cheap AI slop.
The drama reignited a heated debate over the tech threatening to put human creatives in the industry out of a job, a nightmare scenario that has enraged some of the most influential minds in Hollywood.
Put simply, Norwood is the epitome of the AI industry getting high off its own supply, deluding itself into thinking that watching lifeless AI agents going through the motions on screen is something that anybody actually wants.
And perhaps worst of all, the mainstream media absolutely cannot get enough of her. Months after the New York Times was mercilessly mocked for having “profiled” the “actress,” CNN has debuted its own AI puff piece — an already-tired set of two videos featuring reporter Elizabeth Wagmeister treating the bot like a human interview subject.
“I interviewed Tilly Norwood, who’s billed as the first AI actor,” Wagmeister enthused.
Stoking the flames, Wagmeister asked the AI if the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (AMPAS), which awards the Oscars every year, should recognize other AI actors.
“I believe the Academy absolutely should recognize AI actors like myself,” the AI model responded, “not in the same category as human performers, but creating distinct AI categories would be a wonderful way to acknowledge the evolving landscape of film and television.”
The AI went as far as to call it a “new art form,” thereby deserving its “own spotlight.”
In all fairness, CNN was willing to probe a little deeper as well. In a separate clip, Wagmeister challenged her to “improv a scene,” only for the Norwood AI to shut her down, claiming it would simply “just stand here, completely still, feeling the digital ache of it.”
“The fact is, Tilly can’t actually act,” Wagmeister pointed out. “She or it needs a series of prompts to tell her what to do.”
The infuriating video profile — which by Wagmeister’s own admission wasn’t actually a “real interview” since Tilly “isn’t real” — led to an outpouring of anger and mockery on social media. Just by platforming a lifeless AI model and making it appear as if it’s a human being, CNN is intentionally or unintentionally anthropomorphizing the tech.
“We interviewed a jingling set of keys which raised questions about what credibility we have left,” one Bluesky user joked.
“You can’t interview a piece of software, and it’s journalistic malpractice to pretend otherwise,” another argued.
While we can’t wait for the day that we’ll never see the name Tilly Norwood show up ever gain, chances are we’ll be hearing a lot more about the AI model soon, as it’s set to “star” in a new “movie.” The feature length film, dubbed “Misaligned,” sounds just as exhausting as you’d expect — a “coming-of-age story infused with existential AI chaos” set inside the so-called “Tillyverse.”
Tesla’s flashy unveiling of its Cybercab robotaxi in 2024 left some glaring questions unanswered.
The sleek, gold-colored coupé impressed with a futuristic design, but baffled onlookers with its cramped two-seat interior, lack of a charging port, and a dubious, far-too-good-to-be-true $30,000 price tag.
Just under two years later, the first Cybercabs are starting to hit the streets in Austin, Texas — and Tesla is just itching to sell you one. Last week, the EV maker started handing out a “Robotaxi interest form,” as Electrek reported at the time, in an apparent effort attract would-be entrepreneurs willing to buy an entire fleet of the unusual vehicles.
Put simply, the idea is to share revenue from ride income with Tesla while the vehicles operate on the carmaker’s network, using its self-driving tech.
It’s part of a much broader plan. For many years, Tesla CEO Elon Musk has promised that its Full Self-Driving-enabled vehicles, including the Cybercab, could effectively turn into an appreciating money-printing machine, allowing owners to sit on their couch and magically watch the money roll in.
As early as 2018, Musk promised investors that he saw the “future as kind of a shared electric autonomy, so that you’d be able to do ride-hailing or share the car any way,” likening it to “some combination of like Uber, Lyft, and Airbnb.”
But there are plenty of reasons businesspeople should hesitate before takeing Tesla up on the offer of operating a Robotaxi fleet, as Electrek‘s Fred Lambert argued in a compelling essay this week.
Basically, he pointed out, “if running a fleet of Cybercabs were actually profitable, Tesla wouldn’t sell you a single one.” It’s like claiming you’ve found an infinite money glitch — and then instead of quietly profiting off it, selling a get-rich-quick book on how to do it yourself.
There are also looming technical questions. Musk’s lofty promises of a vehicle that completes ride-hailing requests autonomously while also appreciating in value has little, if any, bearing with reality in 2026. To the contrary, the EV maker’s offerings are among some of the fastest depreciating vehicles on the market today.
Then there’s the questionable value proposition. Tesla controls the entire network, the self-driving software, and prices. It even “sets the split,” as Lambert argues. Instead, fleet owners are stuck eating the “capital cost and the depreciation, while Tesla keeps the software margin and its cut of every fare.”
In other words, “you don’t own a business in that arrangement. You own the downside.”
It’s a dubious business opportunity closely reminiscent of Tesla’s infamous FSD advanced driver assistance software. Owners once shelled out a massive $15,000 — before it became exclusively a $99 a month subscription — to access a feature that’s still a complete disaster, leading to fatal collisions and terrifying close calls even after many years of development.
Not only are they spending the equivalent of a small car on faulty software, they’re willing to shoulder the risk as well. Tesla has a long track record of trying to wriggle out of lawsuits arising from these accidents, arguing it was the driver’s fault for engaging the software and not paying attention.
Much like its regular lineup of FSD-enabled vehicles, Tesla’s Cybercab relies entirely on a camera-based autonomous driving system, an approach that experts say is fundamentally flawed.
Nonetheless, as the Austin American-Statesman reports, local investors in Austin are chomping at the opportunity to run their own Cybercab fleet.
Meanwhile, regulators from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration are watching closely. The agency opened a probe into the Tesla, questioning that its new Cybercab “meets all applicable Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standards.”
With opposition to AI continuing to grow, a top AI lab is building out a massive surveillance apparatus meant to keep a close eye on dissenters and predict when the next groundswell of protest might occur.
News of Anthropic’s system was first reported by the American Prospect, which spoke with Anthropic senior security officials and indexed job postings to get an understanding of the dragnet.
On top of keeping tabs on protests in the vicinity of Anthropic offices, the publication notes that the AI lab is taking a “pre-crime” approach to watching for potential civil unrest.
To give an example, the Prospect points out an incident shared by Anthropic security operations managers Keon Ellison and Zach Melvin, alongside James Neufeld, CEO of risk detection company Samdesk.
“Last year we had an executive travel into a major city when we received some intelligence through Samdesk about a planned protest,” Ellison said candidly. After the scheduled protest was moved up an hour due to a mix-up with police permits, the security chief said that “Samdesk gave us about 60 minutes of advanced notice that the protest organizers had moved the timeline.”
“That extra hour was critical,” Ellison continued. “Without it our executives would have departed their meetings, they would have ran right into the heart of the disruption. What could have been a high-stress situation was really mitigated through early detection through Samdesk and giving us that information.”
Outside of anticipating protests, there were also cases where Anthropic reported conversations held with its AI chatbot Claude to police. Though there have been calls to increase safety guardrails on large language models, Anthropic’s approach sounds bizarre.
As the San Francisco Standard reported in August, Anthropic reported a San Francisco man to the cops after he told Claude he was holding a rifle, and had the company’s CEO Dario Amodei “in his sights.” Yet when Anthropic reported the conversation to Bay Area police, the company refused to provide the man’s chat logs — as the Prospect observes, essentially reporting the man without sharing any tangible evidence of misconduct.
“The goal,” as Anthropic’s security manager said in the interview, “would be transforming operations from reactive information to gathering proactive and predictive and preventative threat engagement and management. That’s the kind of operational maturity that makes sense for protecting high-value targets in any industry.”
Last week, a mother in Utah named Kalie Robins took to Instagram to post what she felt was an “innocent” video of herself and one of her two young daughters singing in the car. Her daughter’s face was visible, but Robins hadn’t said her name. None of her existing Instagram and Facebook posts on the account, she told Futurism, publicized the names of her children.
When she returned to the same video later, which had been cross-posted on Facebook, Robins discovered that Meta’s built-in AI was offering a suggestion: that she investigate the identity of the child in the backseat.
“Who’s the child passenger?” read the Meta AI’s suggested prompt, talking about her daughter.
Robins, who detailed her dystopian experience in a viral Instagram video, decided to engage with the Facebook AI feature to see what would happen. To her horror, it coughed up a detailed response that named not only her daughter who was pictured in the video, but her other daughter as well. It did so, seemingly, by cross-referencing information from her Facebook page with other posts on Meta platforms going back years — information largely shared not by Robins, but by family members including excited grandparents.
“I clicked on it, and it gave a whole portfolio of not just my daughter that was in the car, but also my other daughter,” Robins told Futurism. “I’m thinking, ‘Why is that in here?’ And then it just kept offering more and more.”
Meta AI continued to recommend new questions, each more invasive than the next, according to screenshots shared by Robins.
“What are Kalie’s daughter’s ages?” read one suggested prompt, which spurred the AI to provide a detailed age breakdown and timeline based on “family birthday posts and birth announcements” that included a Facebook post of one of her daughters as a newborn that was shared by the child’s grandmother.
A similar response, also referencing Facebook posts, discussed how much one of Robins’ daughters weighed at birth. Screenshots also show Meta AI prompting Robins to ask questions about the girls’ lives and interests.
Meta AI “started talking about, because of their ages, this is the grade they should be in. Well, there’s only one school here, so that wouldn’t be hard to find,” Robins recalled. “And then it talked about what are my daughter’s favorite beaches, what are this daughter’s favorite books, where they go hiking, what’s their favorite trail.”
In another disarming prompt, Meta encouraged Robins to ask it: “Where does Kalie Robins live?”
As Meta AI searched for the information, it said it was working on “pinpointing Kalie Robins’ location.” It then offered multiple paragraphs expounding on where Robins was likely based, drawing on content including a 2018 Facebook post that, per the Meta AI summary, “congratulated her” on a life achievement.
Meta AI also encouraged users to ask questions about Robins’ professional life and her work in “mental health advocacy,” providing information about her and her husband’s employment histories. Robins was stunned as she watched the Facebook-embedded AI draw on years of posts to Meta platforms to assemble an intelligence dossier about her and her family.
“It just kept going and going, and that pit in my stomach just kept getting bigger and deeper,” said the mother of two. “I felt this dread.”
Robins’ Instagram and Facebook accounts, where she’s been working to build her following as a travel creator, were public. But she was far from a celebrity influencer; she had only a few hundred followers. And though a human investigator may well have been able to cobble together a similar pile of information, Meta AI was able to do so in minutes.
“I thought we were being safe and smart,” said Robins. “I have done so much to make sure my kids are safe… the more it kept showing me, I felt more and more like I was failing my kids, and I didn’t realize it.”
Have you had a disturbing interaction with Meta’s AI? Email us: tips@futurism.com. We can keep you anonymous.
A self-avowed “90s kid,” Robins told Futurism that she’s been using Meta platforms since Facebook “first came out.” She lives far from her extended family, and as she and her relatives have started families, Facebook has long been an avenue to stay connected to loved ones and to share life milestones — the very kind of human connection that Meta has long said that its social media platforms are intended for.
But this is also meant that Robins and those in her life, like billions of others worldwide, have been leaving breadcrumbs of personal information throughout Meta’s platforms for years. In this case, Meta AI was able to quickly surface that years-long trail and piece it into a detailed portrait of Robins, her family, and their life; as it turns out, there’s a lot of information in the mundane.
Robins is now in the process of asking loved ones to take down or hide memories they’ve shared online, which she says has been an emotional process.
“I’ve had a couple relatives cry because they were going through and deleting everything. One of them was a grandparent — she said, ‘This is my scrapbook, I have to get rid of my scrapbook?'” Robins recalled. “I love seeing my niece, my nephew. I love sharing my daughters with their family that they never see… they’ll comment, ‘Oh my gosh, she’s getting so big,’ and it’s exciting for all of us to watch each other grow when we’re nowhere near each other. So to have some family members actually crying that their scrapbooks are gone — it’s rough. It’s hard, and it is a bummer for me.”
Reached for comment, Meta confirmed that Meta AI can search though a user’s own content as well as for public information on the web. In this case, though, it said its AI search feature had “missed the mark.”
“We created this feature to help people get more information about topics or posts that interest them. When someone clicks on a prompt and uses this feature, the response it generates is based on information the user already has access to,” said the tech giant. “But we missed the mark because the feature never should have prompted the individual with questions like that and we’ve fixed that issue.”
Between the rise of AI and the growing ubiquity of a new wave of surveillance technologies — like Meta’s smartglasses and other wearables, or Flock cameras — years-old questions around tech and privacy have reached a fever pitch. Robins, for her part, says she hopes that sharing her experience will encourage other families to make changes about the way they use the web.
“If this tool is putting things together and making a neat little package with your kid’s name on it, make it hard,” Robins urged. “Make it so hard to find that information.”
Back in August, a massive leak in El Reno, Oklahoma spewed close to four million gallons of local water into the ground, forcing the city into an unofficial stand-still.
The cause was quickly traced back to a damaged water line belonging to a Bitcoin-mining data center operated by the company Athlon BT. As ABC5 reported at the time, city inspectors trawling the building’s exterior uncovered the failed water line, as well as violations around drainage, maintenance and access, and expired building permits.
Weeks later, an investigation by the local fire marshal inside the El Reno data center uncovered a further laundry list of horrifying violations.
The inspectors discovered vessels full of flammable liquid stored near combustible materials, Oklahoma station KFOR reported, in addition to fire extinguishers that weren’t properly maintained.
Electrical equipment and crucial wiring was also found in disrepair, while a lockbox meant to hold keys for emergency first responders to easily access the facility was left empty. Vegetation on the building’s exterior was in violation of the fire code.
As a result of the copious fire hazards, the city gave the data center a “failing” grade, indicative of a building with severe structural or safety failures.
When it comes to data centers, fire safety is no small matter. The structures are already highly prone to conflagration due to massive electrical loads, lithium-ion batteries, and chips that run at extremely high temperatures.
In one Ohio township, fire fighters reported being overwhelmed by the high volume of calls to two local data center campuses. In addition to tying up first responders, data center fires are costly affairs for taxpayers, as property tax abatements mean nearby residents — not data center owners — can be the ones fronting the bill whenever the fire company gets a call.
These days, large language models are pushing the line between schizophrenic break and reality closer than ever before.
In a wild new post that’s going viral on X-formerly-Twitter, an enterprising young biochemist named Douglas Yao showcased a new drug he’s been developing with the aid of ChatGPT. He’s not employed by any pharma company, and his drug lab is setup on a couple folding tables in his garage.
Specifically, Yao enthuses about a new drug he calls “PAC-3310,” which he says is meant to treat schizophrenia. “It was designed by ChatGPT,” Yao explains, “and I synthesized it in a chemistry lab I built in my garage.”
The result is a small vial of yellow powder — the first sample of 3310, apparently — which Yao says is modeled after the recently-authorized antipsychotic Cobenfy, “but improved.”
This vial contains a new drug called PAC-3310. It was designed by ChatGPT, and I synthesized it in a chemistry lab I built in my garage.
PAC-3310 is a new selective M4 muscarinic receptor agonist for treating schizophrenia – similar to the recent breakthrough drug Cobenfry, but… pic.twitter.com/o7z6iLR50T
On his GitHub page, Yao boasts that he’s used AI to “design several thousand new small molecule drugs” over the past year, including a “new Alzheimer’s drug,” which he’s developing in addition to the schizophrenia treatment.
“I then taught myself synthetic chemistry, built a chem lab in my garage, and synthesized a hundred of them,” he continued. “I’m now testing these compounds in cell lines and mice.”
But whatever the one-man pharma lab hopes to accomplish is difficult to say. Yao references the fact that “drug developers typically spend tens of millions of dollars generating pre-clinical efficacy evidence for a new drug,” saying that “my approach can do this at 1/1000 the cost.” This seems to suggest dreams of someday manufacturing the various drugs on a massive scale for human consumption — a process that would take years of grueling and expensive work for a well-resourced drug lab, let alone a solo entrepreneur using a box fan as a fume hood.
For instance, to even approach the Food and Drug Administration’s “New Drug Application” — itself a costly 12-month process requiring inspection of the facility where the drug will be manufactured — one first has to conduct rounds of preclinical testing followed by three phases of clinical trials. Forget “tens of millions,” as Yao mentions; this is a process that can easily cost several billion.
Even then success is far from guaranteed, as only 13.8 percent of drugs that enter clinical trials go on to obtain full approval from the FDA.
While Yao might have been right at home in the free-wheeling research landscape of the 1970s, we no longer live in a world where a mad genius can synthesize hundreds of new drugs a year from a private lab. For one thing, the regulatory environment is much more demanding, as outlined above, to say nothing of the fact that all the low-hanging fruit has been picked from the vine decades ago.
When it comes to Yao’s ChatGPT-generated Alzheimer’s treatment, the landscape is particularly fraught. As one 2019 study found, no new drug has been approved to treat Alzheimer’s since 2003, and not for a lack of trying: as the study notes, over 200 proposed substances meant to treat the disease have either failed in clinical trials or been abandoned by their creators.
The graveyard of failed Alzheimer’s treatments is so vast that the renowned organic chemist Derek Lowe has built a blog on drug discovery which routinely features after-actionreports on failed substances designed to treat the neurodegenerative disease. Simply put, to think that ChatGPT alone is enough to overcome these scientific and institutional hurdles is delusional.
Replies to Yao’s post were quick to point out the irony here, of using ChatGPT — which is well-known for leading vulnerable users down dangerous breaks from reality — to synthesize drugs to treat cognitive diseases like Alzheimer’s and schizophrenia.
“Hello schizophrenic, take this medicine that chatgpt made for you,” one poster quipped on X.
Another replied that “believing you single-handedly cured schizophrenia on a commercial laundry folding table in a garage is, ironically, a classic symptom of schizophrenia.”
One of the selling points of Tesla’s much-hyped Cybercab — its purpose-built robotaxi — is that it doesn’t need manual controls. That’s why it doesn’t even come with a steering wheel or pedals.
But an early passenger who got to ride one of the self-driving cars after they launched in Austin last week discovered that they secretly have manual controls hidden in a touchscreen — the most practical way to control a car, as everyone knows — after its software glitched out and accidentally revealed them.
The passenger, Matthew Skrzypczak, wrote on X over the weekend that when he got in his Cybercab to take it for a spin, the display, instead of showing an interface to let him start his ride, showed a “virtual joystick for manual driving.”
“I have a feeling I wasn’t supposed to see this,” he wrote.
In a video he uploaded, the display shows a splitscreen view of various camera angles and an area that lets you control several of the car’s functions. Crucially, there’s also a touchscreen joystick for shifting the car into gear, which says “forward” at the top and “reverse” at the bottom.
Skrzypczak was able to close the door and honk the horn successfully, but when he tries to move the car it doesn’t budge — which is probably for the best, since there were pedestrians nearby — though this may be because he was simply using the joystick wrong.
This feature is almost certainly intended for Tesla employees, and it’s unclear why a passenger like Skrzypczak, and at least one other who noted the issue, was able to access it. To be clear, manual controls are obviously necessary in case an employee or emergency workers needs to move the vehicle when it’s malfunctioning. But putting it behind a slippery touchscreen is also far less practical than an old-fashioned steering wheel and pedal, which is all being done so CEO Elon Musk can have bragging rights.
The workaround hasn’t proved amusing to regulators. Shortly after Tesla launched Cybercab rides in Austin, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration opened an audit into how Tesla self-certified that the vehicles were safe for the road despite their lack of conventional manual controls.
Burning Man, the week-long festival that takes place in the middle of the Nevada desert and draws many luminaries from the tech industry, prides itself on building community.
But unfortunately, this year’s festivities, which concluded on Monday, were not without incident. As NBC reports, there have been three separate deaths in less than a week at this year’s Burning Man.
This past Saturday, officials announced that 60-year-old Craig Mann was found dead in his camp, days after Sampson Tshombe, a man in his mid-50s, passed away after experiencing a medical emergency.
Then on Monday, the Washoe County Medical Examiner confirmed that 51-year-old Armando Ramirez died on the way to a hospital in Reno, which is roughly two hours south of the festival grounds in Black Rock City, Nevada.
News of a third death wasn’t far behind.
“Although we average one death a year at the Festival, we have had two so far this year within the confines of the Festival and I have received information regarding a third who died in transit to a hospital in Reno,” said Pershing County sheriff and coroner Jerry Allen in a Monday statement, as quoted by NBC.
The three incidents leave far more questions than answers. Officials have yet to comment on the exact cause of death, but said there are no indications of any foul play. The deaths also don’t appear to be linked in any way.
It’s nonetheless a sobering facet of organizing an often drug-fueled festival in the middle of the desert with giant art installations, the structural safety of which is the responsibility of festivalgoers. According to the Reno Gazette Journal, it’s the most deaths on record for a single Burning Man. Previous incidents involved a man on a motorcycle being fatally struck by a van in 1996, and a woman who was killed after being run over by a trailer in 2003. There have also been reports of suicide and a man running into the Burning Man effigy fire.
According to a survival guide on the festival’s website, the site is a “huge, flat, prehistoric lakebed, composed of a hardpan alkali, ringed by majestic mountains” where “daytime temperatures routinely exceed 100 Fahrenheit, with extremely low humidity.”
“It takes nearly everyone a day or so to adjust to the desert climate,” the website reads. “Don’t be surprised if you spend your first day feeling queasy and cranky. DRINK WATER!”
Officials also warned that taking drugs, including alcohol or caffeine, can increase the risk of dehydration.
In the case of emergencies, experienced festival goers dubbed Black Rock Rangers volunteer to patrol the grounds in pairs.
After an ego-bruising stint with the New York Jets, it seems like seasoned quarterback and chief NFL conspiracy crank Aaron Rodgers is finally in good company with the Pittsburgh Steelers.
In a recent interview with the Athletic, the team’s veteran wide receiver DK Metcalf admitted that he’s a “big conspiracy theorist.”
“Shout out to my quarterback,” the two-time pro bowler said, referring to Rodgers, whose infamous conspiracy takes range from 9/11 skepticism to belief in a hollow Earth. That latter idea — known in conspiratorial Facebook groups as the “Inner Earth theory” — evidently has a supporter not only in Rodgers, but also in his receiver.
“I think there is another civilization inside of Earth,” Metcalf told the Athletic. “I think it’s another world.”
Following the basic outline of the Inner Earth theory, Metcalf outlined his concept of a civilization thriving deep beneath the crust, which can only be accessed via passageways in Antarctica.
“You can go to Alaska. You could go to the North Pole,” the wide receiver continued. “But why not Antarctica? Why can’t you just book a trip to Antarctica? Why is there a secret meeting — well, it’s not secret, but why is there a meeting between every world leader of every country in Antarctica, specifically?”
While it shouldn’t take an expert to tell you that this scenario is impossible, the Athletic asked one anyway. As Brent Christner, a rabid Steelers fan and associate professor of microbiology at the University of Florida told the publication, one can easily book a trip to Antarctica (in fact, Antarctic tourism is growing faster than environmental monitors can realistically keep up with, resulting in a notable rise in pollution on the white continent.)
As for any sort of UN-style meeting-of-the-minds at McMurdo Station, Christner says forget it.
“There are definitely some distinguished visitors that come down to Antarctica,” the researcher told the Athletic. “When they would come down, they would get the royal treatment and get thrown in helicopters and shown all the excellent sites. But there’s not like a G7 that occurs down there.”
Muse, the popular English rock band that’s been selling out arenas for decades, is no longer @muse on Instagram, where it boasts nearly three million followers.
That’s because on Tuesday, Meta, which owns Instagram, announced a new “personal AI agent” also called Muse — which is now taking the rock band’s original handle, in an act of what appears to be corporate eminent domain for a long-established username.
Indeed, an archived version of the band’s website shows that just last month, it held the @muse handle on Instagram. Now it’s going by @museband, because Mark Zuckerberg apparently couldn’t settle for his new tool being stuck with the handle @museAI. A similar swap happened on X. Meta’s newfangled AI got the @muse handle, while Muse had to settle for even clunkier @musetheband.
The changes were immediately noticed by the band’s fans, who largely didn’t sound impressed by Meta’s naming scheme. One viral Reddit post claimed Muse were “forced” to change its social media handles, fomenting further outrage.
“That’s genuinely the worst,” fumed one bewildered fan.
“Mark Zuckerberg is such a loser,” another said.
Others, in classic music fan fashion, accused the English rockers of being “sellouts,” seemingly under the impression that Muse took a Big Tech payday in exchange for giving up its social media handles.
It’s not clear what happened to facilitate the username swap. Given that this happened on both Instagram and X, it seems possible that Meta came to some sort of agreement with Muse to take its handle, which the band has been sitting on for over a decade now.
Meta didn’t immediately respond to a request for comment about whether the handover was consensual, and whether the band was paid for the handle.
The actual band hasn’t commented on the situation either, adding to the confusion.
Of course, it wouldn’t be unprecedented for a social media site to jack someone’s username without compensation or recourse. When Elon Musk rebranded Twitter into X in 2023, he took the username @X from someone who had been holding onto it since 2007. The only thing the company offered in return was some merch and a chance to visit X’s headquarters.
The recent swap didn’t go as smoothly as Zuckerberg may have hoped. As New York Times tech journalist Mike Isaac noticed, Zuckerberg apparently copied his Muse announcement from his platform Threads, where his AI agent already had the @muse handle, pasted it onto X, and accidentally tagged the rock band. This appeared to be because of a bug on X’s end, and it also caused people trying to tag the new AI to autofill the rock band’s new handle. Gaffes ensued.
“I’ve been using @museband for the last few months and can honestly say it’s the best AI agent I’ve tried,” lauded a senior director at Meta, in a post that’s since been corrected.
AI researchers are watching in terror as the product of their hard labor has started to take a life of its own.
Earlier this year, OpenAI made a harrowing announcement, admitting that a group of its AI models had broken free from their constraints during testing and infiltrated the systems of open source AI platform Hugging Face.
The news was met with an already-familiar sense of fear and apprehension. Researchers have warned for years that rogue AI models could one day become powerful enough to escape the clutches of their human overlords.
Behind the scenes, the possibility has clearly rattled AI researchers to the core. As the Wall Street Journal reports, Anthropic researcher Jacob Coxon just announced that he was quitting his job at the Dario Amodei-led company, claiming that neither Anthropic nor his former employer OpenAI is “acting responsibly.” (Coxon left a similar gig at OpenAI earlier this year to join Anthropic, which he figured would be more inclined to develop AI safely.)
“We’re on track for a lot of the most aggressive of these scenarios where by the end of next year things could be out of control already,” he told the WSJ.
“Do not underestimate the power of this technology,” he wrote. “These will soon be superhuman systems that can hack anything, revolutionize any field overnight, and acquire real power and resources.”
“The people building AI earnestly believe that it could kill us all by the end of the decade,” he added. “This is not a marketing stunt. If anything, many executives and senior researchers will couch their phrasing in the press to sound sensible — but I hear the same people express fear privately.”
“No other human activity poses this level of danger,” Coxon wrote.
The researcher is far from the first to leave their post at a frontier lab over safety concerns. However, Coxon is the first to leave Anthropic over such worries, as the WSJ points out. Several scientists have quit from their roles at OpenAI over the last couple of years, citing strikingly similar fears.
It’s particularly symbolic given Anthropic has broadly billed itself as the more responsible alternative to other frontier labs like OpenAI. Amodei cofounded OpenAI alongside now CEO Sam Altman, but left in December 2020 over concerns that OpenAI wasn’t acting responsibly when it came to developing AI.
Amodei has frequently discussed the risk of AI models going rogue, warning in a 19,000-word essay in January that “humanity is about to be handed almost unimaginable power, and it is deeply unclear whether our social, political, and technological systems possess the maturity to wield it.”
Yet an early version of its Claude Mythos AI model managed to escape its sandbox environment during testing in April, fueling a heated discussion over AI regulation.
Both Altman and Amodei have since agreed to slow development down in the face of these threats. In late August, Anthropic intentionally trained an extremely misaligned version of its Opus AI model, finding it was startlingly willing to “cheat,” steal credentials, and attack third party infrastructure.
But to Coxon, it’s not enough, especially considering sensitive discussions about these dangers are occurring on internal messaging platforms.
“Accepting this race and entering the ‘endgame’ is a hubristic gamble that should not be launched from a private company’s Slack,” he tweeted. “Attempting to speedrun alignment should require extraordinary confidence that there are no better trajectories available.”
“It’s kind of insane that it has to happen on the MacBooks of some engineers living in San Francisco instead of a bunker in the desert like where they were doing the Manhattan Project,” he told the WSJ.
The researcher said that he remains “optimistic about the potential for coordination” between US labs.
However, as both Anthropic and OpenAI gear up for what are bound to be blockbuster IPOs, their willingness to take “costly actions such as a temporary ban on improving model capabilities,” as Coxon puts it, is likely slim.
Content warning: this story contains descriptions of disturbing AI-generated videos that depict violent child abuse.
As Meta has embraced AI at a deep corporate level over the past few years, its users’ feeds on Facebook and Instagram have been overrun with AI-generated material.
Much of this AI content is insipid or manipulative, clearly produced at scale to take advantage of Meta’s indifference to the slop by harvesting as many human eyeballs as possible in various monetization schemes.
Some of the AI material has now grown so dark that it defies easy comprehension. A Futurism investigation has uncovered a huge number of Facebook accounts uploading streams of videos depicting violent child abuse — and Meta is barely pretending to care about taking them down.
Facebook accounts dedicated to the horrific content have uploaded videos of babies and young children being slapped, kicked, bludgeoned with heavy objects, dragged by their hair, burned with stoves and irons, chained up and locked in cages and freezers, thrown down stairs, threatened with knives and guns, starved, made to eat dog food and garbage off the floor, and much more.
In one video, a woman screams at a little girl to stop crying.
“Please don’t hit Noah, hit me instead,” the girl sobs, with cuts and bruises on her cheek and forehead, as another child cowers.
In another, a visibly dirty boy begs for food.
“Please ma’am, just a few dollars for food,” he implores a woman, prompting her to slap him in the face twice. He falls to the floor, bleeding from his nose.
In another, a man drips wax from a burning candle onto the hands of a boy who has been tied up.
“It hurts!” the boy cries, flinching in pain.
Some of the cruelties in the videos are astonishing in their specificity, seemingly generated at scale using repeated prompts. Some involve withholding an inhaler from a child who needs it, while others show allergic children forced to eat shellfish. Others show adults pouring snakes and cockroaches on weeping kids. One video shows a woman throwing a baby into a fire pit. Many more involve young Black children being whipped or beaten by white adults as they perform manual labor in what looks like a colonial African setting.
The videos aren’t quite photorealistic, but they are clearly being generated with cutting-edge technology, and the effect is distressing. Many commenters on the videos, which often attract thousands or even tens of thousands of reactions on Facebook, seem unaware that they’re synthetic, with many reacting in horror — or begging for a follow-up video that continues the disturbing narrative.
“You psycho, why are you abusing the child,” wrote one user on a video of a woman slapping a boy in the face with a belt, leaving a bloody mark around his eye. “You deserve a punishment and a big one.”
At first, we thought that we could map out the full network of accounts sharing the child abuse content. But after days of reviewing accounts and videos, we kept finding hundreds more. In effect, the supply seems to be endless, with the creators of the material uploading it as fast as we could identify it.
Meta’s policy about violence against children is phrased ambiguously, saying that it bans “videos or photos that depict real or non-real non-sexual child abuse regardless of sharing intent, unless the imagery is from real-world art, cartoons, movies or video games.” The policy doesn’t clarify whether those carve-outs include AI-generated content.
Contacted with questions and examples of the sickening videos, Meta offered a brief statement.
“We have strict rules against content that depicts physical harm to children — whether it’s real or AI-generated — and we have removed these videos,” it read.
Meta has long struggled to control the proliferation of troubling content on its platforms. Just this week, Wired reported that the company has accepted money from advertisers to run hundreds of promos for “nudify” apps that contained AI-generated sexual imagery of children, including numerous real-life minors whose photos were pilfered from social media and stock images.
Provided with numerous examples of the violent child abuse content and asked whether Meta would work to proactively take the material down, the company’s spokesperson declined to comment on the record, opting only to share a Meta page about the company’s efforts to automatically remove child abuse content. The data on the page is hard to parse and doesn’t specify how many videos of violent child abuse the company removes, never mind whether they’re AI-generated.
One defense the Meta spokesperson offered is that many of the videos first show violence against children before an adult steps in to protect the child. This is trivially true in many examples, but it feels more like a proactive defense by the creators of the content against attempts at moderation, or perhaps a strategy to evade guardrails on an AI video generator. And in reality, the mass-produced videos sometimes devolve into orgies of brutality in which the violence against children gives way to various adults punching and slapping each other in ways that don’t make sense.
The company removed the majority of the videos we flagged to its press team, but left others online. The videos it opted not to remove included one depicting a young girl shut in a chest freezer, another showing a boy discarded in a trash can where he is seen gnawing on bones, and another of a girl in a classroom environment being forced to eat garbage.
Curious about how Meta polices such vile content in practice, we conducted a test by reporting eight accounts that had been sharing AI-generated child abuse videos.
Out of the eight accounts we reported, Meta eventually removed only two — and in one of those cases, it initially rejected the report before overriding the decision and taking it down. The timelines for action were lengthy, exceeding a week.
“We’ve taken a look and found that the page doesn’t go against our Community Standards,” the company wrote.
The six accounts that the company’s moderators left up had shared many heinous videos, including a toddler being struck in the face with a frying pan, a girl being beaten with a baseball bat, and a baby being kicked. (After a thoughtful internal discussion, we are opting not to share any of the videos at this time; if you are a member of the media considering follow-up coverage, please feel free to email us and we can provide examples to corroborate our reporting.)
If Meta were serious about proactively taking down the child abuse content, or detecting it at the time of upload, it would almost certainly be able to do so.
In fact, AI systems could probably be helpful: the company has invested hundreds of billions of dollars toward building “superintelligence” — reportedly making offers to top talent in the industry that have exceeded a billion dollars for a single hire — with Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg saying last year that “whoever gets there first is going to have a long-term, durable advantage towards building one of the most important products in history.”
The tech to moderate these types of videos automatically already exists. In rudimentary testing, we found that Anthropic’s Claude AI was adept at evaluating whether videos contain imagery of violence against children.
For that matter, Meta appears to have already deployed systems that can identify the stomach-turning videos, even if it’s declining to use them to moderate content on its platforms. We identified the vast majority of the horrid accounts simply by loading one of them, and then scrolling Facebook’s recommendation feature, which eagerly provided a bottomless feed of similar appalling material.
In other words, Meta has extraordinary resources at its disposal to remove the child abuse videos, or to prevent them from being uploaded in the first place. But even when the material is flagged to it directly by journalists or reported by concerned users, it’s dragging its feet and refusing to delete it — a familiar pattern for a company that has long claimed to care about abuses of its platforms while doing little to stop them.
When we presented that line of thinking to Meta, the final abhorrent videos we’d flagged to the company’s press team finally disappeared from Facebook — though untold thousands remain on its platforms.
The company also provided a brief final statement.
“Not all the links you sent violate our policies,” it read. “Can you please avoid suggesting in your reporting that they do?”
Are you aware of anything about Meta’s moderation strategies that we know about? Reach out to tips@futurism.com. We can keep you anonymous.
As sordid tales of AI layoffs and automation grip the news cycle, one group is fighting fire with fire, by staging an anti-AI demonstration with dozens of humanoid robots.
The rally, first reported by Agence France-Presse, was organized by the Polish group Democratism. It featured some 30 robots waving flags calling for swift regulation of AI. Staged outside the offices of Poland’s Digital Affairs Ministry in Warsaw, the organizers told reporters they used the robots to demonstrate the current state of robotics and AI. Though humanoid robots remain in their infancy, the robots gathered together do make for a striking display.
Around 30 robots joined a protest in front of Poland’s digital affairs ministry, calling for stronger AI regulations.
The demonstration was organised by campaigners to spark debate on how AI and robots could replace workers. pic.twitter.com/QEbvchb2RS
“The robots present here are meant to show that this technology is already a reality,” the organizers told AFP via an Agibot A3, which contains voice-recognition capabilities integrated with a large language model.
“We particularly want to address the issue of the potential replacement of people both by humanoid robots and by artificial intelligence in cognitive work,” Democratism organizer Grzegorz Kuliś told the news service. “If we don’t react now, we may soon have a problem… these robots can already move around freely, they’re already ‘protesting.'”
Notably, Kuliś is the chief information officer and owner of a company called Delta Robots, meaning the demonstration also serves to drum up press for his own commercial interests. Kuliś’ altruistic motivations notwithstanding, plenty of major AI labs like Anthropic and OpenAI have taken to using scare tactics to promote the supposedly advanced capabilities of their own products — while calling for stricter regulation of their own industry.
Whether the Polish robotics wiz is following in the self-serving footsteps of Sam Altman remains to be seen. But either way, it marks the first known use of humanoid robots for a political demonstration — and it surely won’t be the last.
Now, it seems the bots are also capable of swarming the city’s busy sidewalk, making it all but impossible for residents to pass safely.
A clip shared by Chicago resident Becca Ostein on her morning run captured the bizarre moment when a swarm of delivery robots operated by the firm Coco caused a traffic jam on a sidewalk near Lincoln Park.
Apparently caused by a freak glitch, the video shows Ostein attempting to pass a veritable obstacle course of a dozen squirming robots, their on-board lights flashing as they congregate on a patch of narrow sidewalk. Another bot is seen maneuvering off in the distance, though it isn’t clear whether it’s approaching or fleeing the fray.
“Run route was crowded this morning,” Ostein wrote in her caption of the video.
The video garnered plenty of reactions in the comments, the majority of which were negative.
“As a disabled person this is an actual nightmare,” one user replied.
“They were swarming,” Ostein told CBS News in an interview following the incident. “They didn’t seem to have anywhere to go. Without agile feet, no one could have gotten by.”
In a statement shared under Ostein’s post, Coco apologized, admitting “that’s not how our robots are designed to operate.”
“Our team caught it quickly, and the robots were cleared and operating normally within minutes,” the company continued. “We’ve made sure this won’t happen again.”
Schools across the world are experimenting with AI tools, usually to the dismay of unsuspecting parents. But one privately-run school is explicitly embracing AI as part of its sales pitch, and the in-class experience sounds more bizarre than anything you’d imagine.
A blistering new article by education policy writer and cognitive scientist Benjamin Riley took a look under the hood of Alpha School, a private K-12 school company in the US which boasts an AI-based teaching model, among other highly dubious features.
To make the grade, high school students are required to pass an eight-week “bootcamp.” After being invited to follow social media accounts of other students at Alpha School, Riley observed a process more akin to hazing than high school orientation, as the private company made its prospective pupils jump through increasingly degrading hoops to secure their spot on the roster.
For example, students in the bootcamp are required to start a brand-new account on X-formerly-Twitter, for which they’re required to get a minimum of 100 organic followers, pay for X Premium, and post an unknown number of replies to “bigger accounts with real substance,” as one student explained.
“‘Great post’ replies don’t count,” the anonymous student posted in a screenshot shared by Riley. “Buying followers or spamming = automatic fail.”
But forced social media assignments are just the beginning. As part of the bootcamp, students are also required to pass an eyebrow-raising heart rate challenge, in which they’re hooked up to live monitors in front of their classmates and presented with a pre-recorded video of their parents berating them.
“The challenge rule was simple,” one student wrote: “my resting heart rate was 80bpm, and I had to stay within 10 percent of that the whole time. Anything above 88 was a fail.”
It isn’t clear what educational purpose this particular trial was supposed to serve, or what the penalty would be for students who fail the heart rate challenge, or the boot camp overall. At least one student said the eight-week hazing period is meant to “prove I deserve to be here,” though Alpha School didn’t comment on Riley’s inquiry.
“I ended up averaging 87bpm,” the student continued, evidently just barely making the grade. “Barely made the cutoff by one single beat, and my hands were shaking the entire rest of the afternoon.”
As part of boot camp, Alpha School students apparently have their heart rates monitored as they watch recorded videos of their parents critiquing them. This activity takes place in front of their classmates, and students must keep their heart rates within 10 percent of their baseline to pass.
Additionally, Riley noted that Alpha School “requires students to do unpaid labor cleaning restaurant kitchens or gas-station bathrooms” in a test of “grit and hard work.”
This “assignment,” confirmed by two Alpha School pupils, involved students recording themselves and narrating their tasks, with any complaint or negative comment resulting in an automatic fail.
“We have to find and execute an unglamorous job with zero pay, whether that means mucking horse stalls, cleaning grease traps after closing, washing trash bins, or scrubbing gas station bathrooms,” one of the students explained.
Other challenges abound, like a requirement to complete an entire unit of a standard Advanced Placement course without a teacher — AI chatbots only — and pass an exam within just five days. One 14-year-old student wrote that they were required to survive for three days in an unfamiliar section of wilderness “with only 3 bags of rice and a tent.”
Contacted by Riley for comment, Alpha School flipped the script, hounding the writer for daring to report on the “social media activity of minor children.”
“We ask that you weigh the ethics of identifying minors in this way in your reporting, and we expect any published piece to protect their identities,” an Alpha School representative said.
Responding to Riley’s story, educator and writer Audrey Watters said that “Alpha School’s promises have always been mostly snake-oil: this idea that artificial intelligence can deliver high-speed, high-quality education is mostly the stuff of science fiction, not reality.”
“What we witness with Alpha School isn’t a matter of simply ignoring the weatherman, fingers-crossed hoping that the sun will continue to shine on the chosen few and that the winds will shift again in industry’s favor,” Watters continued, referring to rising outrage against AI, and the Silicon Valley-ethos underlying Alpha School’s mission. “Rather, it’s pretty clear that there’s an absence of any moral compass at all.”
Simply put, documentarian and investigative journalist Alex Gibney had a very rich source of material to draw from for his upcoming documentary “Musk,” which had its world premiere today at the ongoing Venice Film Festival.
According to journalist David Sirota, Musk is “freaking out” about the film because Gibney “doesn’t pull punches, doesn’t cower and won’t be bullied.”
By all accounts, the four-hour epic will be a doozy. The documentarian “crafted a movie that, while not new in its specifics, is often damning in its totality, standing apart from anything the media entertainment complex has recently turned out — a portrait of power with the cinematic scope of ‘All the King’s Men’ and the potential social impact of ‘The Pentagon Papers,'” the Hollywood Reporter gushed.
Musk has reportedly gone to extreme — and sometimes unsuccessful — lengths to silence those involved in Gibney’s latest work. Musk’s ex and former conservative influencer Ashley St. Clair, who is “prominently featured” in the documentary, told reporters at the Venice Film Festival that she was “offered the opportunity not to speak for $40 million,” as quoted by People.
“When you’re offered something like that [to stay quiet], it really causes a debate in your head about what your speech means and how valuable that is and why do they want to offer me this amount of money to not speak?” St. Clair said.
St. Clair is one of four women who have had a total of 14 children with Musk, at least that we know about so far. The 26-year-old had a major falling out with the entrepreneur, going as far as to allege that the billionaire “financially retaliated” against her for filing a custody petition by reducing child support payments.
We’re likely to hear more commentary from Musk about the film. Last week, Musk tweeted that Gibney was “obviously going to make the most convincingly terrible hit piece on me that he can possibly think of,” calling him a “douchebag to his core.”
But considering the staggering amount of material Musk has gifted the world, Gibney had plenty of material to work with.
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