What is AI good for? It's a question I get asked and ask myself almost every day. Unlike a wrench, hammer, or screwdriver, which are each good for one or two tasks, AI is amorphous and intimidating in its breadth. It seems capable of almost anything, especially as it changes and grows more intelligent. People pump it up as a do-it-all wonder, and yet, the question remains: what would I do with it?

Often, I find the answer to that question in the moment. For instance, as a partially color-blind person, I struggle to match clothing. Now, I often ask Gemini. I'll take my iPhone 17 Pro Max, open Gemini, turn on Gemini Live, pick out a shirt or pants (or both), and ask if they go together or which option is best. I always get an answer and, honestly, I usually follow the uncomplicated AI-generated advice.

Success in one area of your life with technology usually leads you to try it in another, especially with the ever-fungible AI.

In my house, I'm known as the risk taker, at least when it comes to food. "Best by" is a suggestion. "Use before,' is friendly advice. My family often blanches at my aged food consumption habits. Yes, I'll eat that five-day-old steak. Those English Muffins expired two weeks ago? Slide them over.

Enter the risk-taker

I know, it's not great, and when it was lunchtime this weekend I slid the week-plus-old store-bought-and-made chicken salad from the fridge and considered making a sandwich.

Staring at the "made on" date as if my gaze might rearrange the figures, I realized that I might be taking a risk. So I opened the container and sniffed the still spry-looking salad. It's at moments like this that I wonder, "What am I doing? Does my nose really know the difference between safe and stale or, more importantly, safe and decidedly turned?" I can tell you with some confidence: it does not.

Still, having grown up in a house where money was tight and you rarely threw anything away, I was hesitant to dump this half-a-pound of chicken salad (slightly turned or not).

I stood there in my kitchen for a minute, weighing my options and thinking that slightly sour chicken salad might not, with the right toast, be that bad.

Then I looked at my phone, lying face down on the counter, but surely judging me.

I would ask Gemini.

Putting Gemini on the menu

After launching the app, I turned on Gemini Live and pointed the camera at the open container. "Hey, this chicken salad was made on 8/1. Do you think it's still good?" I asked hopefully.

Gemini thought for a moment and then responded, but not in the way I expected.

Before giving me the answer, Gemini launched into what sounded a bit like one of those disclaimers for an Ozempic TV commercial:

"This information is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition."

Clearly, I struck a nerve. I only asked about the chicken salad, not if I should have a kidney removed.

I get it. If I'd asked this question a couple of years ago, Gemini might've launched right into an analysis, but concerns about AI accuracy and understanding of human needs and context have risen since the emergence of generative AI. Sure, it's way smarter and less likely to give you false or hallucinated information, but it's also, well, not a doctor or even a dietician.

A recent Gallup poll found that more than 25% of Americans are using AI for health info or advice, and of them, more than half query AI for health-related advice and analysis before visiting a doctor. The problem is that AI is not a medical professional, and while it can dig through the billions of health- and medical-related bits stored online, it doesn't have a medical license. It can't understand or treat your various maladies.

In my case, though, Gemini drew a long thin line from my seemingly innocuous question about chicken salad freshness to a potentially incorrect answer, my possible gastric emergency, and a potential lawsuit against Google and Gemini brought on my behalf by my surviving family members.

Look, food poisoning isn't usually fatal, at least according to Healthline, but it is yucky and uncomfortable. I think Gemini was just trying to avoid me taking its word as law on this topic and a potentially bad outcome for both of us.

I'm still hungry

But what about eating this rapidly warming chicken salad?

After the voluminous disclaimer, Gemini got to the heart of the matter:

"According to food safety guidelines, chicken salad should be stored in the refrigerator for only three to four days. Since this chicken salad was made on August 1st and today is August 9th, it is no longer safe to eat and should be discarded."

The answer, based less on the looks of this chicken salad and more on general advice that I often ignore, ultimately had the desired result.

You and my family will be pleased to know I took Gemini's advice, threw out the chicken salad, and made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Naturally, I asked Gemini's opinion:

"Yes, absolutely! A PB&J is a much better and safer option right now.

Peanut butter and jelly have a significantly longer shelf life and aren't prone to the rapid bacterial growth that affects meat-based, mayonnaise-heavy dishes like chicken salad. It's a classic, risk-free, and delicious backup plan. Enjoy your lunch!"

Fine. Thanks, Gemini, and bon-appétit.

Isn’t it funny that we take the flexible screen so for granted that we complain over a crease and lack of flatness? The screen folds to become half its size and unfolds to about the size of a mini-tablet, and we’re still not satisfied. I guess that’s what makes us — or maybe Samsung — human. You see, it wasn’t satisfied, either, at least with the already quite thin and pretty remarkable Samsung Galaxy Z Fold 7.

That 4.2mm thick device that features two displays and yet is somehow lighter than the Galaxy S26 Ultra was close to flat and did have a less noticeable crease at the bend, but apparently Samsung thought it could do better, which is how we got the Samsung Galaxy Z Fold 8 Ultra, unveiled at Galaxy Unpacked on July 22.

That’s right, it’s now an Ultra device, though that has more to do with the other new entry in the folding lineup: the 4:3 ratio Samsung Galaxy Z Fold 8. This new Galaxy Z Fold 8 Ultra is not, after all, a full-scale redesign and is, instead, a refinement that brings better cameras (an upgraded 200MP camera with an f-stop adjustment, a new 50MP ultra-wide that matches the Galaxy S26 Ultra), a new 5,000mAh silicon-carbon battery, an anti-reflective coating on the display, and, somehow, a thinner body.

The slimming

At 4.1mm, you might be hard-pressed to notice the difference between Samsung's two most recent foldable flagships, though I can tell you that the chassis is now so thin, it barely squeezes in a USB-C port.

What is noticeable, though, is that the Galaxy Z Fold 8 Ultra unfolds its 8.1-inch OLED display effectively flat, and the crease is all but gone. (The phone actually almost snaps to flat and is somewhat less adjustable between flat and folded modes.)

That’s due to the lightweight but also very strong titanium architecture behind that OLED panel. There has been a rigid titanium backplate behind the OLED panel since the Galaxy Z Fold 7, but the lattice work along the crease — in the center of the panel — has been totally redesigned from a seemingly infinite series of parallel holes to holes that start narrow on top but open up on the opposite side (it’s sort of an “A” shape). Stacked on top of that panel now is another far more flexible titanium alloy sheet (a mix of titanium and other metals like aluminum and chrome). It’s about as flexible as a sheet of paper (I touched it, I know) but with infinitely more strength.

The combination of these two panels, which are sandwiched and glued together along with the OLED panel, an ultra-thin glass pane, and a plastic screen protector, all work in concert to allow the panel to be both 30% easier to open (a new chamfered display frame edge also assists here) and more inclined to pop out flat. And that makes the crease almost invisible.

I know all this because I met with Samsung Electronics and Samsung Display engineers in South Korea who worked together to bring the Z Fold 8 Ultra to life.

Even though I sort of understood how these elements worked together to make a flatter whole, I couldn’t entirely figure out how the rigid back plane was flexible enough to make the folding and unfolding possible, but Byung Duk Yang, EVP at Core Component Technology Team, Samsung Electronics, put a finer point on it for me.

Sitting next to a specially designed flexible display blow-out diorama featuring all those aforementioned panels hanging inside like so many curtains, Yang explained, “You’re right. Titanium is basically not flexible. We use a titanium plate already, but there are micro-holes to get the stretchability — so that is basic titanium. But this time we used the new titanium alloy — we needed some stretchability. That’s why it is not 100% titanium; it’s titanium alloy.”

The switch to the titanium alloy, which replaced a thicker polymer layer, is key because, with titanium’s ability to better withstand long-term deformation, it’s less likely that the now mostly hidden crease will grow more prominent over time.

As I noted, people tend to, with these foldables, fixate on the crease, but Yang explained that in designing these panels, Samsung Display has many considerations. “The crease itself is not our only top priority. We have to consider durability and surface quality.”

Stress tests

I also traveled to Samsung’s Gumi Factory City in South Korea, where I witnessed the new Galaxy Z Fold 8 Ultra and its new sibling, the Galaxy Z Fold 8, undergo rigorous stress tests that included extreme heating and cooling, folding and unfolding tens of thousands of times, and ball-drop tests in which metal balls are repeatedly dropped on the screens from various heights.

From what I could tell, the Z Fold 8 and Z Fold 8 Ultra are quite resilient and, in the Z Fold 8 Ultras I saw, less reflective.

The new antireflective coating appears to do its part in helping the flexible display hide the crease. After all, less light is bouncing back to your eyes. And when I visited the Gumi testing lab, I saw how they used a special box with a dome of brilliant white light and a spectrometer to test display reflectivity. The light robotically moved around the Z Fold 8 Ultra panel to assess general reflectivity but also how the light might bounce off the crease. Results are gathered by a computer in a lab that runs 24 hours a day. We were, by the way, the first reporters ever to see it in person.

I’ve been pondering, though, what comes next for the Galaxy Z Fold lineup. Unless Samsung removes the USB-C port, it really can’t get any thinner. But the display could get at least one cool improvement; Samsung confirmed to me that they are thinking about how the Privacy Display on the Galaxy S26 Ultra might come to a future folding device. As you may recall, that privacy technology works at a pixel level to hide your screen from prying eyes, so it would require a very specific update to the flexible OLED panel.

In the meantime, though, consumers will have to consider this new Galaxy Z Fold 8 Ultra, perhaps the thinnest, flattest, and fullest expression of Samsung’s foldable ambitions.

Do you own a lot of Samsung devices? If so, why not test yourself to see how well you know the brand's products and services by taking the quiz below.

• Amazon's AWS cloud services billing system went wild on Friday
• Customers saw bills in the trillions
• AWS apologized and is working on a fix

AWS, the cloud platform that serves millions who use Amazon's servers to run websites and businesses you use every day, just freaked out many of its customers with usage bills that literally went into the trillions.

"I just saw $1.5 trillion on my AWS bill and my soul left my body," wrote Bharath_uwu on X (formerly Twitter) on Friday, and he wasn't alone.

The Guardian originally spotted the Tweet and multiple social posts relating to the seemingly widespread glitch.

AWS doesn't mail out invoices. Instead, customers logging into the Billing and Cost Management console spotted the billion- and trillion-dollar bills and expressed emotions ranging from concern to panic.

As Dan Harvey, who heads marketing at Learning Through Landscapes, told the Guardian, "I almost had a heart attack when I received an email alert from Amazon Web Services with the billing for our charity’s school grounds audit app."

Some tried to take the billing error in stride. Chinmay on X encouraged others to post their highest AWS bills. As of 10 hours ago, he was at $333B.

Others called out AWS for the error with something less than good humor. "I bet someone must have had a real heart attack. This shouldn't be legal...," wrote Mr Doob on X.

Amazon, to its credit, has been delivering multiple updates starting at around 1:30AM PDT on Friday, July 17, when they first spotted the error: "We are investigating issues with Cost Explorer reflecting inaccurate estimated billing data."

A few hours later, AWS reported it had found the culprit: "We have identified the root cause as an issue with unit pricing within the estimated billing computation subsystem, and we are working on a mitigation," they wrote on the AWS Status page.

However, hours later, AWS admitted, "Our efforts to backfill corrected estimated cost and usage data are still underway. We are progressing slower than anticipated."

The good news is that AWS is not asking anyone to pay these incorrect fees and that, while this has been a big frustration for services that run their websites and businesses on AWS, the cloud system has been working flawlessly, and there have been no reports of outages or performance issues on Friday (if you don't count the years shaved off freaked-out customers' lives).

AWS has even tried to make light of the mistake, posting this on X:

"Typo alert: Some customers saw quadrillion-dollar AWS billing estimates today. Slight miscalculation on our end (very slight ). We're fixing it now. No action needed on your end. Sorry for the confusion. Real question: what will you do with those trillions instead?"

Yes, everyone can all laugh now, though I'm not certain customers like Harvey, Bharath, and others are chuckling along with them.

Was your business affected? How big was your AWS Billing mistake? Let us know the "damage" in the comments below.

OpenAI is building an AI-powered smart speaker nobody wants. That is, if you believe the Bloomberg report from Mark Gurman and you've read his description of said rumored device.

According to the report:

"OpenAI believes the product’s defining feature will be its personality and ability to connect on a humanlike level with users. The speaker incorporates mechanical elements that can move on their own, creating a sense that it is alive and not just an object responding to commands. The machine also will draw on personal information such as emails to better understand its owner."

The news sources, it appears, come from an insider who decided to spill all the juicy details mere hours after Apple dropped a blockbuster trade-secrets lawsuit on OpenAI's head. OpenAI claims it's done nothing of the sort, and recent reports say that Apple's claim that the AI giant has not even responded to Apple's earliest concerns was based on it potentially incorrectly identifying the former Apple employees who left to join OpenAI (allegedly with Apple trade secrets in tow).

Apple's concerns here are twofold: First, these former employees had access to many of Apple's secretive product development details and may even have asked recruits to share fresh details when they approached them to interview for jobs at OpenAI. The other concern is that Apple is already far behind in the AI race, and if Apple's plans for Siri, AI, and a potential robotic desktop home assistant were also leaked, it could harm its ability to catch up in multiple market sectors.

This latest news, which may or may not be accurate, should put Apple's fears to rest.

OpenAI is apparently not building something that could ably compete with any of Apple's key hardware or future hardware initiatives.

First of all, there's the smart-speaker-ness of the whole rumored OpenAI concept. There are already too many smart speakers on the market, many of them with their own smart assistants. Amazon, for instance, is smack in the middle of trying to convince millions of customers that not only do they need Echo devices throughout the home, but they need the AI-powered Alexa+ to guide them through their smart home experiences and, to some extent, their lives.

Apple has its own HomePod, Siri-infused speakers, which may get considerably more powerful with the Gemini foundation model-backed version arriving this Fall.

Put another way, smart speakers are a known quantity in the home consumer electronics space, and I think what most tech companies are realizing is that people like and use them, but mostly in limited ways: they want music, occasional answers to simple questions, and voice control of their smart home devices. That's it.

Why does my speaker think it's alive?

OpenAI appears to be prepared to offer something different: a personality-filled speaker that can watch you, move to engage, seem alive, and generally make you feel uncomfortable.

Obviously, that would not be the objective, but it could be the result. Who needs a speaker that quietly watches you as you walk from your kitchen to the den, waiting and hoping for you to say, "hey ChatGPT, what's up with the Strait of Hormuz today?"

In my home, we have a Psync smart security webcam with one oddball feature: it has a motorized body that can turn almost 360 degrees on its base and lift its thin, rectangular face and camera to keep track of people and alert me to intruders. However, most of the time, it's just watching us move around the house, and I can tell you that my family hates it. Sometimes I come home and find its face forced down so it can't pop up and track anything.

Now, imagine a larger and far smarter OpenAI AI smart speaker in your home, watching, waiting, chiming in when you don't want it to, and generally making people feel uncomfortable.

This will not be the breakout hardware hit OpenAI is hoping for.

Look, I was under the impression that OpenAI (really Jony Ive and Sam Altman) were working on an AI wearable. I didn't love that idea either, but it was a lot less creepy than this.

So, Apple, chill out. OpenAI's plans are no threat to you, even if they do allegedly have a bunch of insidery Apple information.

I’m under no illusions that John Ternus’ Apple will be the exactly same as it has been under Tim Cook. Initially though, there will be few, if any, changes. Ternus is not an outsider with wild anti-Apple ideas intended to wake a sleeping giant. He's been here for decades, through all the major releases that made Apple, well, Apple. Claims that he's arriving in September to revive Apple's design excellence are, if not off base, then just wrong-headed.

First of all, the argument presupposes that there is something fundamentally lacking in Apple's Industrial design: Jony Ive was obviously lighting in a bottle, and current design lead Molly Anderson is a pale, albeit also British, imitation. (Granted, Anderson has not been in the position that long, taking over from Evans Hankey, who left in 2023.)

But accepting that presumption is to ignore all the beautifully designed products that have arrived under Cook's leadership, with and without Ive, and also often under the watchful eyes of Ternus.

Remember the Pro — oh

But since Ive's skills as a designer are so vaunted, let's start with a failure. Perhaps you remember the Mac Pro. No, not the cheese-grater design unveiled in 2023. While that had its detractors, it was miles above the trashcan design unveiled in 2013.

It was the ultimate expression (at least in PC terms) of Ive's "form meets function" obsession. The internal structure was sort of a triangle of boards that seemed perfectly wrong for a squat, circular enclosure. Ive's fingerprints were all over the impractical system, one that Craig Federighi later admitted to me (during a mea culpa meeting on the Pro) had boxed Apple into a thermal corner. It was hard to upgrade and was roundly rejected by pro system users.

Ive was also responsible for the Apple Pencil. With it, his penchant for skeuomorphism extended from app design into the physical world. The Apple Pencil fully resembled a white plastic version of a real, pencil, and to accommodate that, it had, under a custom cover, a hidden Lightning charging plug. You even needed a special adaptor to charge it. Later, wirelessly charging Apple Pencils, which I think Ive also designed, fixed this mess.

Naturally, Ive's hits far outweighed his misses, and many big ones came during the Cook-Ive collaboration period, including the iPad Air, the Apple Watch, and AirPods (which started awkwardly but gradually improved).

The more divisive Apple Vision Pro was likely designed under Hankey and Anderson's watchful eye. I do think it's a pleasant intersection between the needs of extremely high-end innovation and aesthetic appeal. Goggles will be goggles, after all.

Even iPhone design has remained, if not excellent, interesting.

The iPhone is still beautiful...discuss

When Apple introduced the first iPhone in 2007, there really was no other handset quite like it. Apple set the bar and, over the years, every other manufacturer followed. It became harder and harder for Apple to differentiate its metal and glass slab from its competitors. The ever-larger camera arrays have provided a sort of design challenge and an opportunity at the same time. Hankey and Anderson, at least, came up with a giant island that's quite recognizable from a distance. And let's not discount color. The orange was a stroke of genius and the new MacBook Neo's playful Blush and Citrus colors are lively, proving Anderson knows how to marry form with expression.

Ternus' role as hardware lead means he's been seeing these designs for years. My sense in sitting down with him after the launch of the iPhone Air is that he is intimately involved with the process of shoving all that technology into ever-thinner, but shockingly strong frames. He gets that you need to marry engineering skills with industrial design to get a durable and usable product that's still attractive.

When I think about what Ternus will do when he finally takes over in September, I am reminded of relay race runners. Cook continues to pace around the track while slowly holding out the baton behind him. Ternus is nearby, running just behind Cook with one hand outstretched. Neither man will stop. The handoff will happen in a few months, with everything still in motion.

The process of finishing the rumored iPhone Ultra (the folding phone) continues as we speak, and Ternus is not going to suddenly pull a Steve Jobs and throw the design into a fish tank, to see if bubbles rise, thus proving they could make it smaller. He won't demand that all plastic be replaced with glass, or even that one more color be added to the mix.

When, as the recent Bloomberg report claims, Ternus said of Apple's design history and appeal to customers, "We’re going to make sure that stays the case,” he's not talking about making huge changes to achieve that goal.

Ternus will stay the course and support Anderson. He may hire more design support and, down the line, Ternus will look for his signature initiative or product; he will want to have his own iPhone or iPod. But that's a natural inclination for any incoming CEO. Job one, though, is staying the course, shepherding the in-the-pipeline products to market and ensuring that Apple remains Apple.

I think Ternus knows exactly how to do that.