The impact of Japanese RPGs on pop and gaming culture cannot be overstated. From Final Fantasy and Phantasy Star to Chrono Trigger, NieR, and Fire Emblem — JRPGs have spanned console generations, bridged the Japanese and North American markets, spawned entire universes of IP and delivered critical commercial hits for nearly four decades. Modern gaming simply wouldn't exist as it does today if not for the influence of JRPGs. 

In his newest book, Fight, Magic, Items: The History of Final Fantasy, Dragon Quest, and the Rise of Japanese RPGs, Aidan Moher takes a wondrous in-depth look at the history of Japanese role playing games, their initial rise in the East, the long road to acceptance in the West and ultimate cultural impact the world over. In the excerpt below, Moher explores how Pokemon grew from Gameboy screens to become a multi-billion dollar entertainment juggernaut.

Running Press

Excerpted from Fight, Magic, Items: The History of Final Fantasy, Dragon Quest, and the Rise of Japanese RPGs by Aidan Moher. Published by Running Press. Copyright © 2022 by Aidan Moher. All rights reserved.

Pokémon, Go

Though it takes many cues from Japanese games like The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, Genshin Impact was developed and published by Chinese developer/ publisher miHoYo. Thanks to gorgeous visuals, free-to-play accessibility, multi-platform release, and easy-to-pick-up-impossible-to-put-down gacha-based gameplay, it took the gaming world by storm after its 2020 release.

Game Boy not only provided greater access to video games thanks to its low price, but it subsequently changed the way we play games. About the size of a mass-market paperback novel, and just barely pocketable, the Game Boy leaned heavily on Nintendo franchises, including Mario and Donkey Kong, and—equally important for a device marketed for children—a ton of tie-in games for popular television shows and movies like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Jurassic Park, and Star Trek.

The appeal for kids? Gaming where mom and dad couldn’t see the action — a private world of adventure. The appeal for adults? Appealing puzzle games, fewer back spasms from sitting cross-legged on the floor two feet from the TV, and a smaller, quieter way to keep the kids distracted before dinner.

“Game Boy had the advantage of being the first on the market before other major competitors,” explained Smithsonian Magazine. Though Sega and Atari soon followed with their own consoles, complete with color screens, they faced an uphill battle against Nintendo’s aggressive strategy of leaning into tech that was older, but also more efficient, affordable, and reliable. Like many ’90s kids, my first game console was the Game Boy. I was a computer game fiend, and we’d rent a NES with a couple of games now and then, but those were ephemeral promises of living room gaming that wouldn’t become reality for a few more years.

After its debut, the Game Boy was rife with puzzle games and character platformers, but by 1993, it had blossomed into a full-fledged adventuring machine thanks to familiar franchises like Final Fantasy, Dragon Quest, and even Wizardry. The game that really sold the system’s capabilities, however, was a new entry in Nintendo’s ambitious The Legend of Zelda series. And, like many others, I was already a big Zelda fan by the time Link’s Awakening released in August 1993 thanks to its Super NES predecessor The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past.

What living room game consoles offered in scope, visual pop, and impressive technology, portables matched with their flexibility, bite-sized content, and on-the-go possibilities. Every morning, my friend and I would meet under a blanket of dew at our elementary school. Sitting side by side for warmth, Game Boys clutched in chilled fingers, we’d explore Koholint Island on individual journeys to waken the Wind Fish. The intimacy of this youthful bonding cemented Link’s Awakening as a core gaming experience in my life, all made possible by the Game Boy.

Though A Link to the Past and the entire Legend of Zelda series no doubt influenced a lot of JRPGs, especially puzzle-based games like Wild Arms or Lufia II: Rise of the Sinistrals, its categorization as a JRPG is debatable. Personally, I don’t quite consider it a JRPG due to its lack of customizability, but there’s definitely enough overlap in mechanics, pacing, story construction, and so on to create an overlapping Venn diagram of fans.

Imagine the giddy power rush of being a kid with a whole universe in your pocket, out of sight of parents and siblings, with no lobbying for TV screen time required. At first blush, the handheld’s small screen might be considered a flaw, but the paradoxical reality was that the smallness leant to the understanding that it was a personal-sized portal to another world. Only room for one. Plus, you could pop in the cheap Nintendo-provided headphones and the world outside disappeared entirely.

Link’s Awakening was a revelation, a journey into the unknown that belonged only to me.

Wake up.

A dream.

Wake up.

It was euphoric.

Wake up.

And then . . . there was Pokémon.

In a video review of Final Fantasy Mystic Quest (discussed in Chapter 6), YouTube channel Austin Eruption examined Square’s failed attempts at catalyzing the Western JRPG market during the early ’90s. “The concept of the entry RPG would be more successful . . . not with Square, but with Nintendo’s wildly popular Pokémon,” they said. “It turns out kids are super down to play RPGs, they just gotta have cute and cool monsters to collect.”

In 1996, Japanese schoolyards were buzzing thanks to the new Game Boy game published by Nintendo called Pocket Monsters. Kids traded tips, creatures, and blows across Game Boys connected by a link cable. These newly trained Pokémon trainers, as they’re called in the game, couldn’t get enough of the 151 unique, cute, and catchable creatures.

Before it was about catching monsters, however, Pocket Monsters was conceptualized by its insect-obsessed creator, Satoshi Tajiri, as a bug-catching simulator. Known to his classmates as “Mr. Bug,” Tajiri spent his childhood dreaming of becoming an entomologist and studying bugs for a living . . . that is until he discovered arcade games like Space Invaders. Though his professional ambitions shifted focus to bits, bytes, and programming scripts, his love for bug collecting remained, and at just twenty-four years old he came up with the idea for what would eventually become Pocket Monsters.

Before his buggy dreams became a reality, Tajiri founded Game Freak in 1989 with Masuda and artist Ken Sugimori, and released his first game, Mendel Palace, the same year. A grid-based puzzler, this game was completely unlike Pocket Monsters, but its success encouraged Tajiri and helped solidify Game Freak. The following year, Tajiri saw two Game Boys tethered by a link cable, and his concept for a bug-catching simulator sprang to life. He saw opportunity not only for players to be able to share and collect bugs, but to competitively face off against one another on their linked Game Boys.

It took over two years after its Japanese release for Pocket Monsters to reach western shores, finally releasing in September 1998 as Pokémon. With its release on the ten-year-old handheld and with the more powerful Game Boy Advance on the horizon, Nintendo released Pokémon on a whim, expecting the series to arrive as a chunky, but relatively unnoticed, oddity before the Game Boy Advance took over. Then, to everyone’s surprise, the weird little Japanese phenomenon appealed to kids in the West just as much as it had to children in its home country. Playgrounds across the United States and Canada were suddenly crawling with kids obsessing over Pikachus, Charmanders, and Mewtwos.

“Although it was made in Japan,” wrote culture writer Matt Alt for the BBC, “for a moment at the turn of the 21st Century, no corner of the world was immune from what came to be called ‘Pokémania.’” Scrambling in the wake of this unexpected success, Nintendo quickly localized the anime spinoff for an American audience to further capitalize on the video game’s hype. A short year later, the follow-up movie adaptation was so popular that phone boards were overwhelmed as tens of thousands of parents and fans sought tickets.

Pokémon’s defining feature was its dual-cartridge release: PokémonRed Version and PokémonBlue Version. The catch was that while each version had most of the same Pokémon available to catch, there were a few dozen available only in one version or the other. To “catch ’em all,” as the game’s tagline implored young Pokémon trainers, you had to find another player who owned the other cartridge. I chose PokémonBlue, and with a set of fully charged AA batteries powering my Game Boy, I started a new game and settled on Bulbasaur as my starting companion. What followed was an experience that made Link’s Awakening feel like The Hobbit—and now I was playing Lord of the Rings. I soon caught more Pokémon for my party: a cute bird called Pidgey, a caterpillar that ensnared foes in silk webbing, and a bucktooth rodent known as Rattata. By the end of my first play session, these little critters became so much more than characters in a game; they tapped into that Tamagotchiesque sense of ownership and quickly became as beloved as my childhood pets.

This wasn’t a party of adventurers; it was a family.

Pokémon put players in the role of a newly minted trainer named Red. (Or anything else they chose to name him within the seven-character limit. My first name fit with room to spare.) Alongside rival Blue, Red arrives at Professor Oak’s Pokémon lab to choose one of the three starter Pokémon: the aforementioned Bulbasaur and Charmander, and the terrapin-like Squirtle. New Pokémon in tow, you leave your hometown on an adventure through Kanto region—a fictional game universe based loosely on Japan’s own Kanto region. With the goal of becoming the region’s greatest Pokémon trainer, you visit Kanto’s eight gyms, wherein you challenge their leaders, powerful Pokémon trainers who focus on particular types of Pokémon, like water-type or electric-type, to earn badges. Conquering the gym leaders then gives you the right to challenge the Elite Four. Defeat them, and the title of Pokémon Champion awaits.

Pokémon combined the sprawling adventure of the JRPG with a narrative focused on personal conflict and growth—not the end of the world. If anything, Kanto felt idyllic, a Star Trek–esque utopia where humans had moved beyond such pettiness as war or raising vengeful gods to destroy their enemies. With nothing else to do, Kanto’s inhabitants could spend their days training the critters crawling through tall grass, prowling in dark caves, and lurking beneath the waves.

Link’s Awakening felt like a limitless adventure at the time, but in reality, there was one critical path to victory, and each player solved the game by following the same steps in roughly the same order. Pokémon was different. Placing the player in a vast world populated by 151 collectable Pokémon, it created an experience that was as unique and individualized as each of its players. Love cute Pokémon and want to fill your team with Pikachus and Eevees? It’s possible. Want to overpower your starter Pokémon, grind your way through the game, and defeat the Elite Four through brute force? Go for it. Obsessed with Psyduck? Um, sure. I guess.

Pokémon offered so much variety and customization for how the player approached building and training their team that each kid could play it in their own way, opening the door to a new style of accessibility lacking in similar games. Kids cared for their Pokémon, and being able to show off a rare or powerful catch on the playground was a badge of honor. And because of its portable nature, Pokémon was able to experience the same social dynamics that drove other popular schoolyard phenomena. It was like Tamagotchi—without the midnight wake-up calls. While other JRPGs gave the player some customization options for their party characters, it was nowhere near the endless possibility of Pokémon’s gotta-catch-’em-all depth.

Frictions exerted during atmospheric reentry are enough to rend spacecraft into comets of glowing slag if not properly mitigated — that’s a good thing, when intentional, but otherwise nearly always very bad. The Space Shuttle, when it was still in service, was designed to hit the outermost edges of Earth’s atmosphere traveling at around Mach 25 (~17,000 MPH), then ride a wave of superheated plasma — generated because frictional forces are so great that they literally tear the surrounding air apart at the molecular level — down into the atmosphere until aerodynamic surfaces regain their effectiveness.

“Utilizing atmospheric drag is the most mass-efficient method to slow down a spacecraft,” NASA notes. To survive those intense 3000-degree F temperatures, the Shuttle relied on layers of ablative heat shielding tiles that would melt and slough off, carrying extra heat away with them, but for tomorrow’s reusable spacecraft, NASA has something better in mind, something inflatable.

NASA has scheduled a launch window beginning November 9th for the LOFTID mission. It will fly out of Vandenberg Space Force Base aboard a ULA Atlas rocket, alongside a new NOAA “polar weather satellite.” After the satellite separates from the Atlas rocket’s upper stage, the LOFTID will unfurl and inflate in low earth orbit ahead of its reentry.

“One of the biggest differences is before we were doing suborbital tests, coming in at roughly 5,600 miles per hour or 2.5 kilometers per second, which is already difficult,” Steve Hughes, LOFTID aeroshell lead at NASA's Langley Research Center said in a press release. “But with LOFTID, we’ll be coming in at nearly 18,000 miles per hour, or 8 kilometers per second. That is about three times as fast, but that means nine times more energy.”

NASA

The LOFTID heatshield offers four layers of protection against all that energy. The outermost layer is made from ceramic and silicon carbide yarn woven into cloth on the same sorts of industrial weavers that make denim. The second and third layers are two kinds of insulation, they’re there to protect the fourth layer — the actual inflatable bits. Everything is stacked into a series of concentric rings — themselves constructed from a woven polymer ten times stronger than steel by weight — that will help guide the shield’s expansion.

NASA has been developing Hypersonic Inflatable Aerodynamic Decelerator (HIAD) technology for more than a decade. LOFTID (Low-Earth Orbit Flight Test of an Inflatable Decelerator) is the latest iteration of that tech, a new kind of heat shield that potentially avoids many of the issues NASA has with the current generation of rigid aeroshells. These hard shields have a hard limit on their size, dictated by the diameter of the rocket’s shroud. Soft aeroshells don’t face that limitation and can be extended far past the shroud’s edge, enabling NASA to protect larger and heavier payloads as they enter atmo.

This is especially important to our future solar system exploration plans, because the other issue with current heat shields is that they only work in Earth’s atmosphere. You try to set something the size of the Space Shuttle down on the surface of Mars and that exercise is going to end with your spacecraft a very long streak smeared across the Red Planet — or one very short crater if you’re especially unlucky. Mars’ atmosphere simply isn’t thick enough to generate sufficient friction against modern-sized heat shields to safely slow the Shuttle’s descent. So, NASA is testing out an inflatable one that is.

When it begins its descent, LOFTID will be traveling at more than 25 times the speed of sound. NASA hopes that by the end, LOFTID will be crawling along at a relatively pokey 609 MPH. Throughout its flight, the test shield’s onboard data recorder will transmit the most pertinent sensor and video data while storing as much as possible onboard in an ejectable recorder. Should everything go according to plan, the LOFTID shield will slow sufficiently to deploy a landing chute before setting down in the Pacific Ocean ahead of retrieval by the ULA.

Life on Earth would not exist as we know it, if not for the protein molecules that enable critical processes from photosynthesis and enzymatic degradation to sight and our immune system. And like most facets of the natural world, humanity has only just begun to discover the multitudes of protein types that actually exist. But rather scour the most inhospitable parts of the planet in search of novel microorganisms that might have a new flavor of organic molecule, Meta researchers have developed a first-of-its-kind metagenomic database, the ESM Metagenomic Atlas, that could accelerate existing protein-folding AI performance by 60x.

Metagenomics is just coincidentally named. It is a relatively new, but very real, scientific discipline that studies "the structure and function of entire nucleotide sequences isolated and analyzed from all the organisms (typically microbes) in a bulk sample." Often used to identify the bacterial communities living on our skin or in the soil, these techniques are similar in function to gas chromatography, wherein you're trying to identify what's present in a given sample system.

Similar databases have been launched by the NCBI, the European Bioinformatics Institute, and Joint Genome Institute, and have already cataloged billions of newly uncovered protein shapes. What Meta is bringing to the table is "a new protein-folding approach that harnesses large language models to create the first comprehensive view of the structures of proteins in a metagenomics database at the scale of hundreds of millions of proteins," according to a TK release from the company. The problem is that, while advances of genomics have revealed the sequences for slews of novel proteins, just knowing what those sequences are doesn't actually tell us how they fit together into a functioning molecule and going figuring it out experimentally takes anywhere from a few months to a few years. Per molecule. Ain't nobody got time for that.  

"The ESM Metagenomic Atlas will enable scientists to search and analyze the structures of metagenomic proteins at the scale of hundreds of millions of proteins," the Meta research team wrote on TK. "This can help researchers to identify structures that have not been characterized before, search for distant evolutionary relationships, and discover new proteins that can be useful in medicine and other applications."

Like languages, proteins are made up of their constituent atoms (think, words) which can all be smashed together as you wish but will only make a functional molecule (ie a coherent thought) if assembled in a specific order (a molecular sentence). Meta's system drastically accelerates our capabilities to uncover organic chemistry's syntax and grammar, however the analogy isn't perfect. "A protein sequence describes the chemical structure of a molecule, which folds into a complex three-dimensional shape according to the laws of physics," the team explained. "Protein sequences contain statistical patterns that convey information about the folded structure of the protein."

Specifically, Meta's Evolutionary Scale Modeling AI treats gene sequences like a Mad Libs for O-Chem using a self-supervised learning called masked language modeling. "We trained a language model on the sequences of millions of natural proteins," the research team wrote. "With this approach, the model must correctly fill in the blanks in a passage of text, such as 'To __ or not to __, that is the ________.' We trained a language model to fill in the blanks in a protein sequence, like 'GL_KKE_AHY_G' across millions of diverse proteins." 

The resulting "protein language model" is named ESM-2 and operates across 15 billion parameters, making it the largest model of its kind to date. The "new structure prediction capability enabled us to predict sequences for the more than 600 million metagenomic proteins in the atlas in just two weeks on a cluster of approximately 2,000 GPUs." So much for months and years.

As the 2022 Specialty Equipment Market Association (SEMA) trade show kicks off Monday in Las Vegas, Mopar — Stellantis' OEM accessory division — unveiled a trio of intriguing concept vehicles, led by an electrified Jeep CJ. Even more exciting, the battery electric technology behind it could portend a restomod revival of classic American muscle cars.

Stellantis

“The Jeep CJ Surge concept explores a future zero-emission propulsion system kit and supports the Jeep brand’s mission to become the leading electrified SUV brand in the world," Mark Bosanac, North America senior vice president, Mopar service, parts and customer care, said in a prepared statement Monday. "Separately, our Ram 1500 Backcountry X and TRX Gold Shot concepts showcase a truckload of innovative Mopar accessories for our award-winning full-size trucks."

The CJ Surge is what's known as a restomod (a portmanteau of "restoration" and "modification"), in that they cleaned up an late model CJ7 (the resto part) and swapped out the internal combustion engine for battery-electric propulsion (the mod part). Restomods aren't strictly electrifications — we've been doing them with crate engines for decades — but with automakers swiftly transitioning to battery power from gas, demand from the classic car community for similar capabilities has grown in recent years. In response, Ford has begun prototyping a BEV restomod system called the Eluminator. The Surge is Mopar's first steps in the same direction.

Stellantis

So rather than an inline-six or v-eight that the CJ7s originally came with, Mopar has dropped in a "scalable 400-volt, 200-kW Electric Drive Module" that provides four-wheel drive capabilities. That powerplant is backed by a 24-module Li-ion battery that sits in a "custom shell mounted in the rear of the passenger cabin," which you can see as the giant silver box dominating the trunk space in the image above. And rather than a traditional manual transmission, the Surge replaces the stick shift with a Wrangler JK center console and rotary shifter knob. 

Stellantis

There's no word on performance numbers, much less when — or even if — this will ever come to market. If you want to check out the Surge for yourself, you'll need to get to the Las Vegas Convention Center before November 4th.

Women have faced gender-based discrimination in the workforce throughout history, denied employment in all but a handful of subservient roles, regularly ignored for promotions and pay raises — and rarely ever compensated at the same rates as their male peers. This long and storied socioeconomic tradition of financially screwing over half the population continues largely unabated into the 21st century where women still make 84 cents on the dollar that men do. In her new book, The Equality Machine: Harnessing Digital Technology for a Brighter, More Inclusive Future, Professor of Law and founding member of the Center for Intellectual Property Law and Markets at the University of San Diego, Dr. Orly Lobel, explores how digital technologies, often maligned for their roles in exacerbating societal ills, can be harnessed to undo the damage they've caused.  

Public Affairs

This article has been excerpted from The Equality Machine: Harnessing Digital Technology for a Brighter, More Inclusive Future by Orly Lobel. Copyright © 2022. Available from PublicAffairs, an imprint of Perseus Books, LLC, a subsidiary of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

For years, the double standard was glaring: employers demanded secrecy about salaries while asking prospective employees for their salary histories. Now, we can tackle both ends of this asymmetry. Just as digitization is helping to reverse information flows to foster more transparency in the market about employees’ worth, new laws are also directing employers to not rely as much on past pay levels, which can be tainted by systemic inequality. In 2016, Massachusetts became the first state to pass a law prohibiting employers from asking job candidates about their salary histories. Since then, more than a dozen states have followed suit.

Barring employers from asking prospective job candidates about their salary histories has two goals. The first is breaking the vicious pay gap cycle, which emerges when women are paid less at a previous job and that gap is then replicated by the next employer. The second is addressing gender differences in the negotiation process Salary figures are plagued by gender disparity, and they can perpetuate and further exacerbate existing market disparities. When a woman discloses that she currently earns less than a man, she could be harming her salary trajectory — both in the applied-for position and for the rest of her career. Each time she discloses her current salary to a potential employer, that gap is likely to grow, as recruitment efforts and promotions are often offered as a percentage increase in relation to current base salary. Rather than relying on biased figures, bans on salary history inquiry induce employers to use other ways to determine a potential employee’s worth, including a shift to automated computation. Employers using market and internal data can consider merit-related characteristics when determining pay, such as experience, training, education, skill, and past performance.

And yet, as we have seen, human bias can creep into our algorithms, and an algorithm that is fed data tainted by salary bias is likely to perpetuate that bias itself. Feedback loops are digital vicious cycles that can result in self-fulfilling outcomes. Once again: bias in, bias out. The risk is that an algorithm will learn that certain types or categories of employees are on average underpaid, and then calculate that into salary offers. This is the wrong that recent policy has been designed to eliminate — and that we can program AI to avoid. Removing the anchored numerical figure encourages employers to proactively assess pay based on the company’s needs and the candidate’s fit rather than on a tainted number. At the same time, having pay scale information for a job but not having a salary history on the table can embolden women to ask for more.

What’s more, AI can also help in the future — maybe not even the distant future — by replacing some of the negotiation that takes place in unequal settings. Empirical studies on negotiation differences between men and women have repeatedly shown that women on average negotiate less, and that when they do, employers react negatively. Women don’t ask for higher salaries, better terms, promotions, or opportunities nearly as frequently as men do. In my research, I’ve called this the negotiation deficit. In one study at Carnegie Mellon University, 93 percent of female MBA students accepted an initial salary offer, while only 43 percent of men did. In another study, female participants simulating salary negotiations asked for an average of $7,000 less than male participants. Economists Andreas Leibbrandt and John List have also found that while women are much less likely to negotiate with employers over salary, this difference disappears when all job seekers are explicitly told that pay is negotiable, mitigating the pay gap. My own experimental research with behavioral psychologist and law professor Yuval Feldman, my longtime collaborator, has found that women in some work environments act less as “homo economicus” — that is, as rational economic actors — and more as altruistic social actors, such that women do not demand for themselves as much as men, and are more likely to value non-monetary benefits, such as good corporate culture.

Can these research insights offer us clues for developing new software tools that will spur women to negotiate? Digital platforms can serve employees by providing advice and information on asking for a raise or preparing for an interview. Information on pay—and especially an explicit expectation that pay can and should be negotiated—can empower applicants to negotiate higher salaries before accepting job offers. The digital platform PayScale conducts annual surveys asking thousands of job seekers whether they disclosed their pay at previous jobs during the interview process. PayScale’s 2018 survey found that women who were asked about their salary histories and refused to disclose were offered positions 1.8 percent less often than women who were asked and disclosed. By contrast, men who refused to disclose when asked about salary history received offers 1.2 percent more often than men who did disclose.

Even when women do negotiate, they are treated differently. In my research, I call this phenomenon the negotiation penalty. Women are told to “lean in” and make demands, but the reality is that for centuries, women have been universally viewed as weaker negotiators than their male counterparts. In one series of experiments, participants evaluated written accounts of candidates who did or did not initiate negotiations for higher salaries. The results in each experiment showed that participants penalized female candidates more than male candidates for initiating negotiations, deeming women who asked for more not “nice” or too “demanding.” While qualities such as assertiveness, strength, and competitiveness culturally benefit male negotiators, women who display such characteristics are often considered too aggressive. Another study looked at data from a group of Swedish job seekers and found not only that women ended up with lower salaries than equally qualified male peers, but also that they were often penalized for negotiating like them. Nick Yee and Jeremy Bailenson have shown that attractive avatars lead to more intimate behavior with a confederate in terms of self-disclosure and interpersonal distance. In a second study, they also observed that tall avatars lead to more confident behavior than short avatars in a negotiation task. They term it the Proteus Effect (the Greek god Proteus was known to have the ability to take on many self-representations). The Proteus Effect suggests that the visual characteristics and traits of an avatar are associated with correlating behavioral stereotypes and expectations, including those that affect the way we negotiate.

The eleventh annual competition for artificial intelligence that has been trained to negotiate — the Hagglebot Olympics, as it’s been termed in the popular media — was held in January 2021. Universities from Turkey and Japan won this time. In some experiments involving negotiations with bots, most people did not even realize they were talking to a bot rather than another person — the bots had learned to hold fluent conversations that completely mimicked humans. Using game theory, researchers are increasingly improving the ways bots can negotiate on behalf of humans, eliminating some of the aspects in which we humans are fallible, like trying to factor in and weigh many different aspects of the deal. AI can now predict the other side’s preferences quite fast. For example, an AI listening by microphone to the first five minutes of negotiation is learning to predict much of the eventual deal just from the negotiators’ voices. Following these speech patterns through machine learning, it turns out that when the voice of a negotiator varies a lot in volume and pitch, they are being a weak player at the negotiation table. When the negotiating sides mirror each other, it means they are closer to reaching an agreement. Using AI also has helped uncover the ways in which women are penalized at the negotiation table. A new study out of the University of Southern California used a chatbot that didn’t know the gender identities of participants to evaluate negotiation skills. The study showed that most of us — both men and women — do quite badly at negotiating salaries. Over 40 percent of participants didn’t negotiate at all, and most people left money on the table they could have received. Women valued stock options less than men did as part of their compensation package, affecting women’s likelihood to accumulate wealth over time. These advances can also help with negotiation disparities across different identities. A group of Israeli and American researchers looked at how a smart computer can negotiate with humans from different cultural backgrounds. Without telling the machine anything about the characteristics of people from three countries — Israel, Lebanon, and the United States — they let the AI learn about the patterns of cultural negotiation differences by engaging in negotiation games. They found that the computer was able to outperform people in all countries. These developments are promising. We can envision bots learning about negotiation differences and ultimately countering such differences to create more equitable exchanges, level the playing field, and achieve fair outcomes. They can be designed to tackle the specific distributive goals we have.

Shortly after news broke Wednesday afternoon that its self-driving subsidiary Argo AI would be wound down, Ford CEO Jim Farley joined in on the company's Q3 earnings call and spoke at length about how senior management came to that decision. "It's estimated that more than a hundred billion has been invested in the promise of level four autonomy," he said during the call, "And yet no one has defined a profitable business model at scale."

In short, Ford is refocusing its investments away from the longer-term goal of Level 4 autonomy (that's a vehicle capable of navigating without human intervention though manual control is still an option) for the more immediate short term gains in faster L2+ and L3 autonomy. L2+ is today's state of the art, think Ford's BlueCruise or GM's SuperCruise technologies with hands-free driving along pre-mapped highway routes, L3 is where you get into the vehicle handling all safety-critical functions along those routes, not just steering and lane-keeping. 

"Commercialization of L4 autonomy, at scale, is going to take much longer than we previously expected," Doug Field, chief advanced product development and technology officer at Ford, said during the call. "L2+ and L3 driver assist technologies have a larger addressable customer base, which will allow it to scale more quickly, and profitability."

"It’s taking that investment and putting it towards a business where we think we will have a sizable return in the near term relative to one that’s going to have a long arc," he added. The company didn't elaborate on a specific timeframe for when it would potentially be ready, thought Farley did stress that developing the foundational technologies needed for Level 4 will not be won quickly. "We don’t expect a single ‘Aha!’ moment like we used to,” he said.

Farley anticipates updated L2+ and L3 systems to arrive in the coming years alongside the company's second cycle of EVs in 2023 - 2025. "Ford is completely refreshing it's EV lineup globally, introducing fully updatable electrical architectures and in-house software development for controlling the vehicle," Farley noted. 

Fields stressed the importance of keeping much of the back end functions of these evolving ADAS technologies in-house. "We will have a core team that can integrate a system, understand its performance at the system level," he said. "And we will own the software. It is really important that we also own the connection to these vehicles. L3 is a connected technology, so the ability to have a pipeline that collects data and makes the system better and better — we must own that."

"That's a problem that actually doesn't exist in L4 and is a huge opportunity for us to create a Ford experience that's really unique." Fields said.

General Motors has been in business for more than a century, but in its 112 years, the company has never faced such challenges as it does in today's rapidly electrifying and automating industry. The assembly line jobs from Detroit's heyday have been replaced by legions of automated industrial arms, almost as quickly as the era of internal combustion engines has been supplanted by EVs. Since 2014, it's been Mary Barra's job as CEO of GM to help guide America's largest automaker into the 21st century. 

In Charging Ahead: GM, Mary Barra, and the Reinvention of an American Icon, author and Bloomberg automotive journalist, David Welch, recounts Barra's Herculean efforts to reinvent a company that has been around since horses still pulled buggies, reimagine the brand's most iconic models and bring EVs to the masses — all while being a woman in the highest echelons of a male dominated industry. In the excerpt below, Welch examines some of GM's earliest electric initiatives, like the popular but short-lived EV1 or the loss leader Bolt, without which we likely wouldn't have many of Ultium-based vehicle offerings. 

HarperCollins

Taken from Charging Ahead by David Welch. Copyright © 2022 by David Welch. Used by permission of HarperCollins Leadership, a division of HarperCollins Focus, LLC.

Battery-powered cars had captured the imagination of wealthy, tech-minded drivers. Tesla was the first to tap into that, becoming a hot brand in the process. Its cars began stealing customers away from the likes of Mercedes-Benz and BMW. But in 2017, when Barra was weighing up her own plug-in play, EVs were still only about 1 percent of car sales. They were still too expensive for most consumers and even at fat prices, they lost money. EVs sold by Tesla, GM, and Nissan could take hours to charge and only Tesla models could go more than 300 miles on a charge.

GM had been working on electric batteries and developing vehicles that would run on them. In no way was Barra flat-footed. But spending billions on cars with an uncertain group of buyers was seen as speculative and risky. Internally at major car companies, there were still voices saying that EVs were a costly science project. They assumed Tesla would run out of cash one day and carmakers could carry on as they always had.

Internally, GM was weighing uncertain demand for EV sales against the risk that Tesla and Germany’s Volkswagen group and even Ford would capture the buyers who made the switch. That threatened to completely reset customer loyalties and shake up the industry. Tesla already sold most of the electric vehicles on the market. Elon Musk threatened to upend the auto industry the way Apple’s iPhone did to ’90s mobile phone kingpins Nokia, Motorola, Ericsson, and Siemens. GM’s future hinged not only on Barra’s courage to make a move, but also on her being wise enough to get the timing right.

Caution was understandable. At the time, Tesla was by far the top seller of electric vehicles with 100,000 sold globally and losses of about $2 billion on sales of its Model S sedans and Model X SUVs. Those Teslas typically sold for more than $100,000 apiece, which is triple the price of the average gasburning family SUV. With Tesla’s $100,000 cars losing money the challenge for companies to make a buck selling EVs was daunting.

GM knew it all too well. In the 1990s, the company had sold the famous EV1, an aerodynamic two-seater priced at $34,000 that was leased to EV enthusiasts from 1996 to 1999. That was an expensive car back then. GM spent $1 billion developing it and would lose more money selling the vehicles, said [then-GM CEO G. Richard] Wagoner in an interview. I remember seeing a presentation for the car at the Detroit Auto Show in 1997. GM’s then vice chairman, Harry Pearce, talked about electric cars like the EV1 and also about hybrids that ran on gasoline engines and electric motors. For GM, it was a display of what the company’s engineers could do and a glimpse of the future, he told me. But it would be decades before it would be a real business.

The EV1 would bring GM serious credibility with environmentalists, but after leasing 1,100 of them, the company lost a lot of money. A few Hollywood actors like Ed Begley Jr. leased one and promoted it as often as he could. Francis Ford Coppola had one, and when GM ended the program and demanded that lessees return the cars, he refused to give it up and kept it. The company crushed all the cars that it had leased after retrieving them, which then made GM a pariah with the same environmentalists who loved the car.

The economics of electric cars weren’t very good twenty years later. Chevrolet started selling the Bolt in 2016 and lost a whopping $9,000 on every one of the $38,000 plug-in cars it sold. Before that, GM sold the Volt plug-in hybrid, which uses a gasoline engine and an electric motor in tandem to get forty-two miles per gallon. The Volt lost even more. Those nasty numbers would drive serious resistance to electric cars inside GM and at other major carmakers, too.

One big reason GM sold the Bolt was to meet government regulations. In California and a dozen coastal states that followed its lead, automakers had to sell electric vehicles or other super-efficient cars like hybrids to be able to sell their profitable gas guzzlers. Selling green vehicles earned ZEV credits. GM could also buy ZEV credits from Tesla, which many automakers did. But that just meant that they were helping fund Musk’s effort to eat their lunch.

In the EV race, Tesla already had the advantage of a tremendous amount of investor patience for Musk’s losses. Even though Tesla lost $2 billion that year, his company’s market capitalization ended 2017 with a total value of $52 billion. That was just $4 billion less than GM’s even though Barra brought in near record profits that year. In other words, the market would continue to fund Musk’s money-losing operation, but Barra had to fund her own vehicle development with profits from the very gas guzzlers she was seeking to replace.

That put GM and the mainstream car companies under pressure from three sides. Shareholders wanted profits from pickup trucks and sport utility vehicles. But in the car market, Tesla was stealing buyers, gaining a technological advantage in battery development, and building an Apple-like brand for making the cars of tomorrow. Meanwhile, governments were putting the squeeze on with new clean-air rules.

Despite being the wealthiest nation on the face of the planet, the United States chronically runs short of transplantable organs. Kidneys are far and away the most sought-after organ for transplantation, followed by livers. While the liver is the only human organ known capable of regenerating itself, if you damage yours badly enough for long enough — as some 30 million Americans have — then the only treatment is a transplant. Assuming you can even acquire one for doctors to stick in you. Every year demand for replacement livers outstrips supply by a scope of tens of thousands.

“Only one-third of those on the liver transplant waiting list will be transplanted, and the demand for livers is projected to increase 23 percent in the next 20 years,” a multidisciplinary team of researchers observed in 2016’s Liver-Regenerative Transplantation: Regrow and Reset. “Exacerbating the organ shortage problem, the donor pool is expected to shrink further because of the obesity epidemic. Liver steatosis [aka fatty liver disease] is increasingly common in donors and is a significant risk factor in liver transplantation.”

To address this critical shortage, the study authors note that doctors have explored a variety of cutting-edge regimens, from cell repopulation and tissue engineering, nanoparticles to genomics, mechanical aids to porcine-derived xenotransplantation, all with varying degrees of success. Cellular repopulation has been used for years, a process that injects healthy liver cells into the patient’s damaged organ through a portal vein where they adhere themselves to the existing cellular scaffolding and grow into new, functional liver tissue.

Fabian Bimmer / reuters

“Creating an immediately available and inexhaustible supply of functioning liver cells from autologous tissue would allow early intervention in patients with hepatic failure and would allow liver cells to be infused over a longer period of time,” the 2016 study’s authors note. “Combined with recent advances in genome-editing technology, such liver cells could be used widely to treat devastating liver-based inborn errors of metabolism and to eliminate the need for a life-long regimen of immunosuppressive drugs and their complications.” The downside to this technique is the pace at which the donor cells proliferate, making it a poor tool against acute liver failure.

Extracellular Vesicle-based therapies, on the other hand, leverage the body’s intracellular communications pathways to deliver drugs with, “high bioavailability, exceptional biocompatibility, and low immunogenicity,” according to 2020’s Extracellular Vesicle-Based Therapeutics: Preclinical and Clinical Investigations. “They provide a means for intercellular communication and the transmission of bioactive compounds to targeted tissues, cells, and organs” including “fibroblasts, neuronal cells, macrophages, and even cancer cells.”

EVs are the postal letters that cells send one another. They come in a variety of sizes from 30 to 1000 nm and have exterior membranes studded with multiple adhesive proteins that grant them entry into any number of different types of cells. Exploiting the biological equivalent to a janitor’s key ring, researchers have begun tucking therapeutic nanoparticles into EVs and using them to discreetly inject treatments into the targeted cells. However, these treatments are still in the experimental stages and are most effective against acute liver failure and inborn metabolic diseases rather than end-stage liver failure.

Mayo Clinic

Mechanical aids, the hepatocytic equivalent to a dialysis machine, like the Mayo Spheroid Reservoir Bioartificial Liver (SRBAL, above) are ideal for treating cases of acute liver failure, able to take over the entirety of the patient’s liver function externally and immediately. However, such procedures are both expensive and temporary. The SRBAL can only support a patient for up to two weeks, making it more suitable for keeping someone alive until a donor can be located rather than as a permanent, pacemaker-like solution.

The bioprinting and implantation of replacement livers has also shown promise, though they too are still in early development and largely not near ready for widespread adoption. Interspecies transplantation using genetically-engineered pig organs are a bit closer to clinical use, with surgeons successfully transplanting a porcine heart into a human patient for the first time this past January (though he died of complications two months later). Pig kidneys and livers have similarly been transplanted into human recipients, often with less drastic side effects than death.

No matter where the transplanted organ comes from, getting it into the patient is invariably going to involve a significant surgical procedure. However, the Lygenesis company recently unveiled its non-invasive solution: tricking the patient’s body into growing a series of miniature, ectopic liver “organoids” in its own lymphatic system like a crop of blood-scrubbing potatoes.

For those of you who dozed through high school bio, a quick recap of terms. The lymphatic system is a part of the immune system that serves to circulate some 20 liters of lymph throughout your body, absorb excess interstitial fluids back into the bloodstream, and incubate critical lymphocytes like T-cells. Organoids, on the other hand, are biological masses artificially grown from stem cells that perform the same functions as natural organs, but do so ectopically, in that they function in a different part of the body as a regular liver. Blood-scrubbing potatoes are self-explanatory.

“Fundamentally, Lygenesis uses the lymph node, your body's natural bio reactors typically used for T-cells,” company CEO and co-founder Michael Hufford, told Engadget. “We hijacked that same biology, we engraft our therapies into the lymph nodes to grow functioning ectopic organs.”

“We use an outpatient endoscopic ultrasound procedure where we're going down through the mouth of the patient using standard endoscopic equipment,” Hufford continued. “We engraft ourselves there in minutes under light sedation, so it's very low medical risk and also is really quite inexpensive.” He notes that the average cost for a proper, in-hospital liver transplant will set you back around a million dollars. Lygenesis’ outpatient procedure “is billed at a couple of thousand or so,” he said.

More importantly, the Lygenesis technique doesn’t require a full donated liver, or even a large fraction of one. In fact, each donated organ can be split among several dozen recipients. “Using our technology a single donated liver can reach 75 or more patients,” Hofford said. The process of converting a single donated liver into all those engraftable samples takes a team of three technicians more than six hours and 70 steps to complete. The process does not involve any gene manipulation, such as CRISPR editing.

This process is quite necessary as patients cannot donate culturable liver cells to themselves. “Once you have end-stage liver disease, you typically have a very fibrotic liver,” Hofford noted. “It will bleed at the slightest sort of intervention.” Even the simple act of collecting cellular samples can quickly turn deadly if the wrong bit of organ is bisected.

And it’s not only the transplant recipients themselves who are unable to donate. Hofford estimates between 30 and 40 percent of donated livers are too worn to be successfully transplanted. “One of the benefits of our technology is we're using organs that have been donated but will otherwise be discarded,” he said.

Once engrafted into a lymph node, the liver organoid will grow and vascularize over the course of two to three months, until it is large enough to begin supporting the existing liver. Hufford points out that even with end-stage disease, a liver can retain up to 30 percent of its original functionality, so these organoids are designed to augment and support the existing organ rather than replace it outright.

Lygenesis is currently in Phase 2A of the FDA approval process, meaning that a small group of four patients have each received a single engraftment in a lymph node located in their central body cavity near the liver itself (the body has more than 500 lymph nodes and apparently this treatment can technically target any of them). Should this initial test prove successful subsequent study groups will receive increasing numbers of engraftment, up to a half dozen, to help the company and federal regulators figure out the optimal number of organoids to treat the disease.

While the liver’s inherent regenerative capabilities make it an ideal candidate for this procedure, the company is also developing similar treatments for the kidneys, pancreas and thymus gland as well as inborn metabolic liver ailments like maple syrup urine disease. These efforts are all at much earlier points in development than the company’s end stage liver work. “Within the next five years, we would love to see our liver program submitted to the FDA as a new biologic therapy and be commercially available,” Hufford said. “I think that'd be a realistic timeframe.”

Twitter is gearing up for layoffs no matter whether Elon Musk purchases the company, which could happen as soon as this Friday, according to a report from The Washington Post.

On one hand, Musk has told prospective investors that he plans to axe 75 percent of the Twitter's 7,500-member staff upon completion of the deal, a move that would likely cripple the site's operations and kneecap its ability to moderate content and ensure users' security. On the other hand, internal documents obtained by The Post reveal that, prior to the Musk deal, current company leadership planned to "pare the company's payroll" by around $800 million, a relatively modest 25 percent reduction in the workforce that would only see around 1,900 people left unemployed, along with "major" infrastructure cuts and data center closures.

Musk's cuts would be "unimaginable" Edwin Chen, a data scientist formerly in charge of Twitter’s spam and health metrics, told The Post. “It would be a cascading effect,” he said, “where you’d have services going down and the people remaining not having the institutional knowledge to get them back up, and being completely demoralized and wanting to leave themselves.”

When asked about potential layoffs at a Twitter Town Hall meeting in June, Musk came out in favor of staffing cuts, arguing that he didn't see why low-performing workers should remain employed. Musk has also advocated for loosening content moderation restrictions and allowing formerly banned accounts to be reactivated.  

GM's goal to sell nothing but EVs by 2035 is well on its way with massive demand already for the GMC Hummer EV and the Chevy Silverado. The automaker took to social media on Thursday to unveil its third electrified offering and the burly-looking Sierra Denali EV that the company revealed does not disappoint.

Officially, it's named the GMC Sierra EV Denali Edition 1 and it'll start shipping in early 2024 with an MSRP of $107,000 plus dealer fees. The Sierra is built on the same Ultium battery technology as the Hummer and Silverado so GM estimates the Sierra will have 400-plus miles of range on a full charge (80 miles more than the 2024 Blazer EV announced in July), offer 574 HP/785 lb-ft torque, 22-inch rims and the ability to tow up to 9,500 pounds. 

On a DC fast charge, the Sierra should be able to tack on 100 miles of range with every ten minutes of station time — assuming you spring for the 800W electrical architecture, which is looking to be an optional feature along with four-wheel steering and crab walking capabilities. Like other Ultium vehicles, the Sierra will offer bidirectional charging, enabling it to power household appliances for up to 21 days, GM's product site reads. A subscription for GM's SuperCruise hands-free ADAS system will be included for three years as well.

The Denali is the first of three Sierra EV variants slated for release in the next few years. The standard edition Sierra EV Elevation will arrive in early 2025 with 18-inch rims. The off-road ready AT4 will arrive a year earlier in 2024 and offer two additional inches of ground clearance from the base Elevation.