Climate tech companies are going public. What’s next?

This year, there’s been a wave of notable energy companies going public via IPO in the US.

The solar and battery company Solv Energy went public in February, to the tune of $6 billion. X-energy, which is building small modular nuclear reactors, did the same in April, and its stocks surged on its first day of trading to hit a $11.5 billion market cap. Most recently, the geothermal company Fervo Energy went public in mid-May, and its market cap is now about $12.4 billion.

Those are all success stories in the IPO world. And it certainly doesn’t feel like a coincidence that all these companies are racing to provide electricity in an era of rising demand (partly due to data centers). Let’s take a look at how these firms are doing, what this moment says about the grid, and what’s coming next. 

Let’s start with Fervo Energy, a company we’ve covered a lot over the years that’s working to develop enhanced geothermal energy. (We included it on our 2025 list of Climate Tech Companies to Watch.) While conventional geothermal requires finding specific spots with hot rock, water, and fractures to support a power plant, Fervo essentially uses fracking techniques to create the necessary conditions.

The company was founded in 2017, and it raised about $1.5 billion from investors over the years before its IPO.

Fervo’s first commercial project, Cape Station in Utah, is expected to have a capacity of about 500 megawatts. The first unit is set to start generating power for customers by October and the next two units by January 2027.

The new funding from the IPO could help the company scale. Fervo currently has over 600 megawatts’ worth of binding power purchase agreements. And it has leases for land that could together generate more than 40 gigawatts of electricity. (As of 2024, the entire US geothermal fleet had a capacity of just 4 gigawatts.)

The company also has an eye on cutting construction and drilling costs—its Cape Station plant is expected to cost about $7 per kilowatt, which is cheaper than new nuclear power plants but over twice the expense of building a new natural-gas plant in the US. 

X-energy also aims to provide reliable clean power: it’s part of the wave of next-generation nuclear companies working on small modular reactors. The company is building high-temperature gas-cooled reactors, which flow helium over self-contained pebbles of nuclear fuel. These reactors will each generate 80 megawatts of electricity, less than one-tenth the output of larger ones like Unit 4 at Plant Vogtle in Georgia, the most recent addition to the commercial nuclear fleet in the US.  

X-energy also saw its IPO go well, and prices surged in trading after the initial offering. One interesting tidbit here—the company had previously planned to go public in 2023 but decided against it because of difficult market conditions.

The company is still years away from demonstrating its technology in a commercial project. 

You may recall a story I wrote last year about its effort to build nuclear reactors at the site of a Dow Chemical plant in Texas. The company recently received a key environmental approval for that project, though it’s still waiting for the final green light from the Nuclear Regulatory Commission to start construction.

Finally, Solv Energy builds solar and energy storage projects, mostly for utilities and independent power producers. Solar and batteries are some of the cheapest and easiest technologies to add to the grid, so this one could get a lot of capacity online, quickly. The company already has 21 gigawatts’ worth of projects operational across 35 states.

Many companies in the energy sector are pinning their hopes on the rapid growth in data center construction and operation. The AI boom has transformed the energy landscape, pushing electricity demand higher in a country where it’s been relatively flat for the last decade or so. Solv Energy mentioned data centers over a dozen times in documents filed with the Securities and Exchange Commission before its IPO. 

And Fervo and X-energy are particularly connected to the tech giants driving AI. Google has been a longtime investor in Fervo and also pioneered what it calls its clean transition tariff with the company. Amazon is a client of X-energy as well as an investor; it reportedly owns close to 20% of the company.

Fervo and X-energy are also in industries that occupy a political sweet spot. President Trump and his administration have gone after wind power and other renewables, cutting off existing support and slowing approvals for new projects. Meanwhile, geothermal and particularly nuclear power have kept favor with the federal government and enjoyed continued tax credits and grant funding.

If a few big leaders cash through these IPOs, it could help investors feel more confident about supporting the energy sector, even if that money is concentrated in later-stage ventures like these rather than earlier-stage companies. 

We could see other firms, particularly in nuclear and geothermal, attempt a similar route in the year ahead.

A key thing to watch here will be whether Fervo and X-energy in particular can succeed in scaling up and deploying their technology. If either of these companies stumbles or misses a timeline, it could have ripple effects for those hoping to follow in these very lucrative footsteps. 

This article is from The Spark, MIT Technology Review’s weekly climate newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Wednesday, sign up here

How a new extraction process could unlock the world’s lithium

Researchers say they’ve found a new way to extract lithium, a crucial metal used in the lithium-ion batteries that power electric vehicles and energy storage arrays. This new technique could be more environmentally friendly and cheaper than existing ones. 

The research was published today in Science, and a startup called Rock Zero is working to commercialize the process.

“At scale, we believe this will be the lowest-cost way of sourcing lithium in the world,” says Yet-Ming Chiang, one of the study authors, who is an MIT professor and a serial entrepreneur behind climate tech companies including Form Energy and Addis Energy.

The most economical way to get lithium currently is to extract it from brine, salty water that’s pulled the metal out of rock over the course of millennia. But this technique is geographically limited and currently requires vast tracts of land for massive evaporation pools. The more common tactic is hard-rock mining, where large bodies of ore are blasted apart, cooked at high temperatures, and processed using dangerous chemicals.

The researchers’ new method uses a weak acid to dissolve typically nonreactive silicate minerals. That frees not only the lithium but also other useful materials, including alumina and silica.

The origin story for this research, and the resulting company, came from another startup founded by Chiang, Sublime Systems, which makes cement using electrochemistry.

The team was trying to find a source of highly reactive silica in order to form stronger cement. One way to make reactive materials, which can bond easily with other materials, is to take a nonreactive material, dissolve it, and then allow it to become solid in a more reactive form. It’s not impossible to dissolve silicates, but the best-known way is to use hydrofluoric acid, an extremely dangerous chemical. Other fluorine-containing chemicals are candidates too, but some will produce hydrofluoric acid as a side product during reactions. 

Chiang drew inspiration from a previous home renovation project involving glass, which is made of silica. “I was remodeling a shower in Framingham, Massachusetts, about 25 years ago,” he says. “So when we started this project, I remembered that glass etching cream and thought, ‘What’s in that?’” 

The glass etching cream he remembered, which can be found on shelves at any craft or home improvement store, uses ammonium fluoride, a weak acid. And the MIT researchers discovered that in the right conditions, it can effectively dissolve silicate minerals without producing hydrofluoric acid in the process.

This chemistry could be useful for any silicate minerals—and there are a lot of them. But spodumene, the mineral that’s often mined for lithium, became a prime first target. (Chiang says a suggestion from Doug Wicks, one of the company’s advisors and a former ARPA-E official, pointed the team in spodumene’s direction.)

small pieces of rock next to a line of 3 capped vials of powder
From left to right: spodumene, silica, alumina and lithium salts.
ROCK ZERO

Today, a key step in processing spodumene ore is to roast it in a kiln at super-high temperatures. This causes a phase transformation, essentially puffing up the material and making the lithium more accessible.

By avoiding the need to reach these temperatures, you could save on energy costs and potentially reduce carbon emissions as well, says Camden Hunt, one of the authors of the study and the CEO and cofounder of Rock Zero.

Avoiding the kiln could also unlock the ability to use some ores that can’t be roasted properly, Hunt adds. Ore that contains too much iron won’t go through the phase change correctly, instead melting and turning into a glassy material.

The new process relies on simple stirred plastic tanks and takes place at temperatures up to about 95 °C (200 °F). The ammonium fluoride dissolves the silicates, which in earlier experiments allowed nearly all of the lithium inside the spodumene ore to be extracted within a couple of days. The researchers have since cut this time to under 12 hours, says Benjamin Mowbray, first author of the study and the CTO and cofounder of Rock Zero.  

The products (after some additional steps to clean them up) are lithium carbonate, which can be used to make batteries; alumina, which can go into a smelter to make aluminum; and cementitious silica, which can be added into concrete. And the acid can be reused in the same loop.

Chiang calls this “nose-to-tail” mining—using every part of the ore provided, like eating every part of a butchered animal.

The researchers are currently working to scale and optimize the process. The tanks in the lab in Cambridge, Massachusetts can handle three kilograms of spodumene concentrate in each batch. 

They have also estimated the cost of this process once fully scaled up. Assuming that the ammonium fluoride can be recycled at a high level, they should be able to extract lithium for less than $6,000 per metric ton. (They’ve identified a potential cheap industrial source of the acid as well, as an alternative to recycling it.) 

The total cost is projected to be lower than that of other processes used to extract lithium from hard-rock ore today, and it could be competitive with brine.

The team has designed a pilot plant and is looking for space to build it. The plan is to have construction done by the end of 2026 and start operating the facility in 2027. Talks are underway with potential partners in the mining industry.

One difficulty for new players in lithium extraction is the volatility of the market: Prices have seen huge swings in recent years, from a peak in 2022 to lows in late 2024 and a slow climb starting in early 2026. 

Rising prices might benefit new players like Rock Zero, but there are many projects that could come online if prices continue to rise, and that could bring the market right back down, says Simon Jowitt, chair of exploration geology at the University of Nevada, Reno. “People are waiting to see what happens with the lithium price,” he says. “It’s a crowded market, and there’s some big players out there.”

And even though batteries are driving up demand for lithium, the market is still relatively small, Jowitt adds: “That means it’s going to be volatile.” New lithium extraction technologies like Rock Zero’s will have to compete with methods used by existing giants, and there’s also the potential that technological alternatives, like sodium-ion batteries that don’t need lithium, could make the market more difficult to navigate, Jowitt says. He also thinks some of the company’s economic estimates could be optimistic.

For its part, Rock Zero’s team hopes not only to scale this technology for lithium, but to use it for other minerals in the future. As Mowbray says, “The Earth’s crust is made of silicates.”

A reality check on the AI jobs hysteria

Haven’t you heard? White-collar jobs are going away, decimated by AI. Waves of layoffs in the tech sector (most recently at Coinbase and Meta and Cisco) are said to presage what will soon come for all of us knowledge workers. But before you quit your job as a software developer or financial analyst—or tech journalist—and look to join the plumbers’ union, it’s worth considering today’s economic research on whether artificial intelligence has actually begun to devour white-collar work.

The short answer is: No.

Despite the warning by some of an imminent jobs apocalypse that will destroy much of if not most such work, or the rumblings about a “permanent underclass,” there’s scant evidence that AI has yet had any large-scale impact on the US labor market. 

Analysis of the data gathered for the US Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS) shows that the unemployment rate for the jobs potentially most affected by AI is actually lower than that for occupations less exposed to the technology. And, critically in the mind of economists, there are no signs that large numbers of people are shifting from jobs threatened by AI to supposedly safer ones, such as those involving mostly manual labor.

While the current labor statistics don’t preclude a sudden job upheaval in the coming years, they do throw doubt on the inevitability of the doomsday scenarios and the pace at which they’d unfold. Everyone in the AI community, it seems, is predicting that the technology will soon wipe out jobs, and everyone, it also seems, knows some young wannabe workers who can’t find one. Perhaps we haven’t seen any major disruption in the labor market statistics yet, people often say, but just wait. 

But maybe we should pay attention to what the data is showing us. And right now, the numbers paint a picture of a relatively stable labor market in which AI disruptions remain largely speculative.

“It could be disruptive, but the data is telling us right now that disruption is not yet here, and we have time to plan.”

“All of the available evidence to date suggests that AI’s impact on current labor market conditions is likely small right now,” says Erika McEntarfer, a labor economist who headed the BLS until President Trump fired her last fall after a jobs report that displeased the administration. (Not surprisingly, BLS reports of sluggish job growth have continued since her dismissal.)

McEntarfer, who is now a fellow at the Stanford Institute for Economic Policy Research, says the relatively small impact that AI is having so far on today’s labor market “surprises many people, but it shouldn’t. What we know from history is that it takes time for innovations to work their way through changes in industries and changes in occupations. AI is unlikely to transform labor markets until it first transforms businesses.”

McEntarfer points to US Census data showing that only one in five companies are using AI in any business function. “The data are a great reality check on the fear that AI will be enormously disruptive,” she says. “It could be. It likely will be disruptive, but the data is telling us right now that disruption is not yet here, and that we have time to plan.”

Things ain’t great—but the question is why

The US job market, to be sure, sucks for many, especially younger would-be workers. Unemployment rates for recent college graduates stand at around 5.6%, well above the level for all workers. It’s a rate not seen since the pandemic and the years immediately after the 2008 recession. Even more troubling is that hiring rates have been particularly dismal during the post-covid economy, a trend that hits hard at young people trying to enter the workforce. If you’re a recent college graduate and looking for a tech job, no one, it can seem, is hiring.

There are signs that AI is contributing to the pain for the 22-to-25-year-olds seeking jobs in software development and other occupations that are feeling a big impact from AI. But these professions represent just a sliver of the overall labor market. What’s more, it’s uncertain how much blame AI should get for the job woes. Similarly unknown is whether the loss of entry-level jobs in AI-exposed occupations is a harbinger of what’s coming for others or simply an isolated symptom of what economists refer to as a “low-fire, low-hire” labor market caused by a variety of macroeconomic forces.

Insights into these uncertainties will tell us much about our working fates in the transition to an AI economy. There are no shortage of confident assertions and predictions about what is about to happen; while some people forecast the end of work, others say economic history teaches us that technology advances always lead to more and better jobs eventually. 

The honest answer is that no one knows for sure what AI will bring and whether this time will be different. To help figure it out, we need better and far more comprehensive data.

The statistics gleaned from the federal government’s monthly survey of 60,000 households for the BLS provide a broad overview of the changes to the labor market, while academics and even some AI companies have begun trying to gain a more granular view of specific jobs that are being affected. But the existing data-gathering tools don’t adequately explain how AI is affecting the huge and diverse US labor market.

There’s a long list of questions that we don’t have the data to fully answer. How is AI being used in the workplace? Does the increased use of AI mean the technology will replace workers, or will it make them more productive and valuable? Which occupations and skills are most affected? Who is in most peril from the changes? As David Deming, a professor of economics at Harvard University, puts it: “We’re sort of flying blind.”

To gather more insight into some of these questions, Deming and his colleagues have been surveying several thousand people every three months since 2024, asking them basic questions: Do you use generative AI, and how often? Does it save you time at work? Tracking the answers over time gives the economists important clues (it’s used by a little over 40% of workers but adoption varies by sectors) and allows them to estimate productivity gains (they’ve found some, but nothing economy-shaking). It has also helps document how quickly AI has been adopted in the workplace and how it compares with earlier technologies such as the PC and the internet (the pace has been faster but roughly in the same ballpark).

It’s far from a complete picture of how AI is changing work. But it provides some intriguing results; for example, a fair number of workers in manufacturing and other industrial sectors have tried AI. Deming’s results show that while businesses in general might be relatively slow to formally adopt the technology, lots of their employees are using it.

Getting a picture of these early adopters and how they’re using AI provides a “crystal ball for the future of the labor market,” Deming says. “It gives you important clues about how it’s going to be used tomorrow, and who’s going to be affected, and who’s going to be harmed and how do we need to get ready for it. It’s a diagnostic of what’s coming down the road.”

But what it doesn’t tell you is the fate of various jobs.

The young are most vulnerable

Analysis of how AI will affect jobs typically begins with identifying so-called exposure of various occupations to the technology. This approach is based on the idea that any given job is a collection of tasks. By evaluating which tasks can be performed by, say, the latest large language model, researchers gauge an occupation’s overall exposure. A small army of economists have created a slew of such studies, meticulously ranking hundreds of jobs and scrambling to update the results as the capabilities of generative AI keep exploding. 

The results have often triggered a panic, with graphics showing the growing vulnerability of different jobs to AI.

But by themselves the exposure results are not a true predictor of which jobs will be lost to AI. That depends on the kinds of tasks done by the technology, the extent to which the AI is adopted, various business calculations about the value of workers, and even the costs of deploying AI. But the exposure findings are a valuable starting point. 

In a working paper called “Canaries in the Coal Mine? Six Facts about the Recent Employment Effects of Artificial Intelligence,” researchers at the Stanford Digital Economy Lab looked at 950 jobs, placing the occupations into five categories from least exposed to most. Then they used a vast data set from ADP, the world’s largest payroll provider, to look at employment growth in each of the categories. Their exclusive access to the ADP data set, which is far larger than the one available through the BLS, allows the researchers to better spot impacts by demographic. When they examined what was happening to different age groups, says Erik Brynjolfsson, the director of the lab who led the effort, “it was extremely striking.”

They spotted the drop in head count for 22-to-25-year-olds in the most exposed occupations, such as software development and customer service, beginning in late 2022, when ChatGPT was first publicly released. Other researchers reported evidence that the decline in these jobs began well before ChatGPT and questioned whether the labor market could react so quickly to the introduction of AI technology. 

But while the Stanford researchers acknowledge that other factors in addition to AI probably contributed to the early declines, they say that after controlling for those factors, they saw convincing evidence of a significant effect from AI after 2024 and growing in 2025 to a 16% decline in entry-level jobs in AI-exposed occupations. In contrast, head count grew for older workers in the same occupations, as did the number of jobs in the less exposed occupations.

Digging deeper into the data, the researchers found another important clue, though one that wasn’t totally unexpected. The impact on head counts depended on how AI was being used. It was specifically the jobs where tasks could be automated (that is, AI could do them “with minimal human involvement”) that accounted for the decrease in employment—jobs for people like software developers. In jobs where AI was mainly used but to augment human work, head counts grew faster than the average for entry-level workers.

That’s consistent with one explanation for the woes of many young would-be workers. It could be, according to the Stanford paper, that entry-level jobs depend more on the types of knowledge that people acquire through education but that can readily be mimicked by AI; the authors call this codified knowledge. It might be particularly easy to automate such tasks as entry-level coding. In contrast, older workers have more so-called tacit knowledge, the type based on their experience. That type of wisdom is harder for AI to replace.

Despite the findings about AI’s impact on young workers, Bharat Chandar, an economist at Stanford and one of the authors (along with Brynjolfsson and Ruyu Chen), stresses that it’s still early when it comes to understanding how the technology will affect jobs in the future. It could be that the job loss will spread to older workers and to less AI-exposed occupations, he says. But Chandar says it is also possible that firms and workers will adjust to shifting labor demands, and the effects will level off or even disappear.

To track how it plays out, the Stanford Digital Economy Lab is about to launch a regularly updated project providing data on how AI is transforming the economy.

The Stanford research and other work has put a particular spotlight on coding, a task at which AI is getting extremely adept. 

A recent paper by economists at the Federal Reserve Board found, not surprisingly, that annual employment growth for coders has slowed significantly—by about 3%—since the introduction of ChatGPT. But here’s a critical detail: Overall employment for coders continues to grow. Employment in coding jobs is still rising, they noted, just more slowly than before 2022. 

In short, coding jobs are not going away, at least not anytime soon. But it’s an occupation that is clearly being transformed by AI.

One of the somewhat surprising wrinkles uncovered by recent research is that wages in sectors highly exposed to AI have risen relatively fast since the introduction of ChatGPT. One explanation is that employers are still willing to pay for the kinds of knowledge and experience that are, at least for now, hard to replace with AI. If true, this suggests not the end of work in AI-exposed jobs but, more specifically, the demise of the typical career model in which young graduates are hired to do software tasks that can be automated and are slowly trained to gain that valuable tacit experience. The earn-while-you-learn model might finally be broken—at least for some occupations.

The simple truth could be that coding skills are no longer a guarantee of a job. That may help to explain the drop-off of computer science majors at schools around the country. Future canaries in the cubicles are sniffing out the dangers of looking for a job when their skills can be matched by AI.

But a closer look at the data shows that students are not necessarily turning away from AI-related careers. Rather, they appear to be tailoring their skills to the changes they see underway as AI becomes increasingly important for various disciplines. Interest is rising in AI-adjacent fields like data science and cybersecurity. One fast-growing major: artificial intelligence itself (a recent addition to many college offerings).

Is this time different?

Anxiety over the potential of AI to replace workers is nothing new. I wrote “How Technology Is Destroying Jobs” in 2013, describing how a slew of new digital technologies, including AI, were beginning to threaten white-collar work. I wasn’t alone. It was a popular theme at a time when the labor market was sluggish and jobs were scarce. 

In one of his last days in office in late 2016, President Obama issued a report written by his top economic and science advisors warning that AI was threatening workers. Among the findings was that automated vehicles—especially driverless trucks—could eliminate 2.2 million to 3.1 million existing US jobs.  Around the same time, one of the pioneers of AI, Geoffrey Hinton, said that “people should stop training radiologists” because it was “completely obvious” the occupation was soon to be replaced by AI.

None of these predictions came true, of course (nor did so-called technological unemployment occur during several earlier tech-related job panics). The forecasts were often wrong about the pace of the technological advances—we’re still waiting for fleets of driverless trucks on the highways—and failed to understand the complex portfolio of tasks that make up many jobs. AI has indeed become a tool for screening radiology images, but there are more radiologists than ever. It turns out that human radiologists perform a multitude of valuable tasks, including interpreting results and interacting with patients, that can’t be accomplished with AI (yet).

Perhaps this time is different, and we can put aside the lessons of economic history. Certainly, AI has gained unimaginable powers to do humanlike tasks. Perhaps it will devour jobs in ways that we’ve never seen before. And perhaps that will happen abruptly, without a warning buried in the labor statistics. But the previous bouts of AI job anxiety still hold a prescient lesson: Our real focus needs to be less on the dystopian fears and more on the very real transitions in the workplace that will likely affect millions of people.

“Even if there is not mass or even increased unemployment, the transition could still be very difficult,” says Jed Kolko, senior fellow at the Peterson Institute for International Economics and former undersecretary of commerce in the Biden administration. “And what does a difficult transition period mean? It means people losing jobs, or people’s jobs being redefined in ways that make those jobs pay worse or be less meaningful. And some people whose jobs are threatened may not be able to adapt.”

The more we understand this transition, the better prepared we’ll be to deal with it.  And for that we’ll need better and more complete data.

For McEntarfer, the former commissioner of the BLS, the real question is the speed of any disruption. “If it happens at the normal pace of technological change, labor markets will have time to adapt. If there is a sudden and severe disruption, then that will be a big challenge for policymakers,” she says. “That’s really the most important question facing us right now: how rapid this transformation is going to be.” And, she adds, “we’ll know by watching the data.”

Two decades ago, the country was caught flat-footed by the so-called China shock as free-trade policies led to an influx of imports and the devastation of manufacturing jobs in many parts of the country. It took years for researchers to understand the data showing how the trade policies, generally welcomed by economists, were destroying communities. Today the threat of an economic transformation brought on by AI is far larger and points to potentially far more damage for huge groups of workers.

To head off another devastating labor transition, we will need well-timed government and business policies, especially programs to train and reskill workers. If McEntarfer and other labor economists are correct, we probably have time to design deliberate and effective strategies to manage the transition. But first we need to better understand what is going on—and how fast.

It’s hard to find an economist who is more enthusiastic about AI’s future than Stanford’s Brynjolfsson, who believes that we’re likely on the brink of a huge boost that will transform the economy. “Perhaps the best productivity growth of my lifetime is coming up,” he says.

But Brynjolfsson also warns that a lack of data is severely limiting our visibility into the economic and societal impacts that are coming. At a time when hundreds of billions are being spent on rolling out the technology, he says, “we’re not investing even 1% of that on understanding the transition.”

It’s time to address the looming crisis in entry-level work.

Artificial intelligence has not so far produced a clean story of mass unemployment. Aggregate employment in developed countries remains broadly stable, and recent assessments have found limited evidence that AI has shifted the headline numbers. But a troubling change may be hiding beneath the surface: the quiet weakening of the first rung of the career ladder.

The most worrisome evidence is showing up exactly where we should expect it first: in early-career hiring. A working paper released in November 2025 by the Stanford Digital Economy Lab found that workers aged 22 to 25 in the most AI-exposed occupations experienced a 16% relative decline in employment after the spread of generative AI, even after controlling for other factors that might affect firms’ employment decisions. An Anthropic report from March 2026 provides suggestive evidence that led to a similar conclusion.

More experienced workers in those same occupations did not suffer the same decline. Employment is not also declining in the entry-level jobs with low AI exposure. The concern is specific to early-career jobs that are exposed to AI.

That is not a minor signal. It suggests that firms may be using AI to substitute for the junior tasks through which people traditionally gain their first foothold—at least for those in jobs where generative AI is used extensively, like software developers, customer service representatives, computer programmers, and information systems managers.

The time is now to make changes in the way we train, prepare, and support young people who are about to enter the workforce. Educational institutions need to reorient for the era of an AI-augmented workforce. Governments must incentivize businesses to hire and train early-career workers. Businesses, in turn, need to recognize the importance of developing a long-term workforce experienced in AI—a process that begins with entry-level workers. And students themselves should take on the responsibility of not only becoming AI fluent but learning how to apply that knowledge in various fields.

In short, we must change the way we have traditionally thought of entry-level work.

This is especially true because the broader labor market for recent graduates is also softening. The Federal Reserve Bank of New York reported that in the fourth quarter of 2025, the unemployment rate for recent college graduates rose to 5.6%, while the underemployment rate (the share of graduates working in jobs that typically do not require a college degree) reached 42.5%, its highest level since the covid pandemic. No single statistic can prove that AI is the sole cause of that deterioration. Hiring in general is way down post-pandemic, and young people are particularly vulnerable to the slowdown. But it would be a mistake to ignore the possibility that AI is accelerating an already difficult transition from school to work.

Behind these statistics is a great deal of personal distress. Recent graduates today often submit hundreds of applications before they receive a single offer, and surveys consistently find elevated rates of anxiety, financial precarity, and burnout among young workers in extended job searches. If AI quietly closes the door on typical early jobs, people will pay the price in delayed independence, postponed family formation, and the sense that their first serious professional efforts have been refused.

It also matters because entry-level jobs are part of the economy’s training system. Junior analysts learn which numbers can be trusted. Young software developers learn how production systems fail. New marketers learn how customers behave outside the neat language of dashboards. Early-career legal and financial staff learn how rules, judgment, deadlines, and human relationships actually interact. If AI absorbs more of the drafting, triage, coding, summarizing, and administrative preparation that once helped train entry-level workers, firms may become more efficient in the short run while society becomes less capable in the longer run.

The right way to improve the skills of young workers is not to tell them, “Learn to code.” That advice, which shaped more than a decade of federal initiatives and university expansion, rested on the premise that coding was a stable, scalable skill almost anyone could learn and parlay into a middle-class job. The premise no longer holds. The layer of work AI handles well—translating a specification into routine code, reproducing standard patterns, debugging predictable errors—is precisely the layer that “learn to code” programs were built around.

Supervising AI systems in their work is now a much more relevant skill. So understanding the outputs AI systems produce will become very important.

To help people develop such skills, we should require universities, community colleges, and professional programs to embed AI literacy, data literacy, prompt-based workflow skills, verification skills, and domain judgment into ordinary degrees. Every graduate should know how to use AI tools, check their output, understand their limits, and combine them with human expertise. This matters even for graduates entering occupations that look relatively safe from AI, such as those in health care. Almost every job contains tasks—drafting, summarizing, scheduling, research, basic data work, routine communication—for which AI is already a substantial productivity tool.

The competition most young workers will experience is not human versus machine but colleague versus AI-augmented colleague. For most young workers, the realistic path to making themselves valuable is not to avoid AI but to become fluent in the technology and combine that with domain judgment, contextual reasoning, and human relationship skills. To this end, schools should emphasize paid co-ops, apprenticeships, and employer-linked projects so students build judgment in real workplaces before they graduate.

Governments should also create targeted tax credits, wage subsidies, and training grants for employers that hire early-career workers into structured, AI-augmented roles. The architecture for this kind of conditional, behavior-linked subsidy already exists in US tax policy. What is missing is a version of these instruments built specifically around early-career AI-augmented work.

Firms, for their part, should stop making hiring decisions based only on short-run cost savings from AI. Young workers are not valuable only for the tasks they perform this quarter. Their value lies in learning, skill formation, institutional memory, and future productivity. Entry-level hiring is not just an expense. It is an investment in the future stock of judgment inside the firm. The most effective AI-augmented senior workforce of the late 2030s will be drawn overwhelmingly from the junior cohort of today. Firms that automate away the learning stage may improve their immediate margins but find themselves, a decade from now, without anyone who understands how their own AI-driven workflows actually behave.

Students graduating this spring and next face a tough labor market in transition. AI fluency is becoming a commodity. Domain expertise without AI fluency is being outpaced. The combination is what is genuinely scarce. The mechanical engineer with knowledge of manufacturing and AI proficiency; the software programmer with knowledge of financial services who is also a whiz at AI—these are the types of people who will be in demand.

Georgios Petropoulos is an assistant professor at the USC Marshall School of Business. His research focuses on the implications of information technologies for innovation, competition policy, and labor markets.

The Enhanced Games fit right in with the rest of 2026’s longevity vibes

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  • Drugs are the point: The inaugural Enhanced Games, held in Las Vegas this Sunday, openly encourages its 42 athletes to use performance-enhancing drugs — provided they’re FDA-approved and medically supervised — with $1 million on offer for world records broken.
  • FDA-approved doesn’t mean risk-free: Anabolic steroids, growth hormones, and other permitted substances carry serious health risks, including liver tumors, diabetes, and vision problems.
  • It fits the moment perfectly: From peptide clinics to optimized embryos, the Enhanced Games reflect a broader cultural obsession with pushing past human limits — one where just being human isn’t enough anymore

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This Sunday, a group of 42 athletes will gather in Las Vegas to compete in a somewhat unusual sporting competition. Participants in the inaugural Enhanced Games are being encouraged to take performance-enhancing drugs. The goal is to “push the boundaries of human performance.”

The games’ organizers have said that competitors will only be taking substances that have been approved by the US Food and Drug Administration, and that they are all being medically monitored and supervised. But they have also said they expect to see world records broken—and are offering substantial prizes to athletes who succeed in doing so.

As you might expect, the event is generating a mix of curiosity, excitement, and condemnation from various quarters. To me, it feels like very much a reflection of where we are today—an era of peptide-crazed looksmaxxing in which consumers are being encouraged to get thinner than ever, optimize for longevity, and have their “best baby.” It’s 2026, and if you’re not enhancing, what are you even doing?

So, these games. They’ll feature competitions in four categories: swimming, track and field, weightlifting, and strongman (which also involves lifting weights). Many of the competitors already hold national and world records, and some are Olympic medalists. They’ve been paid a salary and will compete for prizes from a $25 million pot. The money has been a major draw for at least some of the athletes.

Another draw is the opportunity to openly experiment with drugs that might boost their performance. In the world of elite sport, every microsecond and every millimeter counts. Athletes—most of whom arguably have genetics on their side already—follow meticulous diet, training, and recovery protocols and wear specially designed gear that allows them to reach for those performance bests.

But within most sporting communities, there are limits. The World Anti-Doping Agency—an international outfit that fights the use of drugs in sports—maintains a lengthy list of “non-approved substances” that are banned in international sporting events. It features many anabolic steroids (which can build muscle), hormones (such as those that stimulate testosterone production or increase the ability of blood to carry oxygen), growth factors (which can stimulate muscle growth and repair, among other things), and more.

Some of these substances have been FDA approved to treat health disorders. And that means they can be used by participants in the Enhanced Games, according to the organization’s rules.

I’ll briefly point out the obvious here—just because a drug has been approved by the FDA doesn’t mean it’s totally safe for everyone and anyone. The risks associated with use of anabolic steroids, for example, include high blood pressure, acne, depression, and liver tumors. Growth hormone use can cause weak muscles, affect vision, and even lead to diabetes.

“Technological doping,” or using improved equipment to gain advantage, has also been supported by the games’ organizers. Last year, participating swimmer Kristian Gkolomeev was reported to have broken a record in a 50-meter freestyle time trial while wearing a polyurethane “super” swimsuit. Such suits have been banned for use in the Olympics since a slew of record-breaking performances in 2008 and 2009. Back then, the swimming governing body ruled that they gave athletes an unfair advantage. But hey, this is the Enhanced Games, where the word “unfair” seems to have a completely different meaning.

Can we expect more records to be broken on Sunday? Maybe. In addition to prize money for winning an event, any athlete who manages to beat a record stands to win up to $1 million, the sum also awarded to Gkolomeev last year following his time trial. But those performances won’t be recognized by official sporting bodies.

Plenty of concerns have been raised about these games. Some argue that they are unsafe and promote risky drug use. Others see them as a “clown show,” and a slap in the face to “clean” athletes who train hard without the use of prohibited drugs. World Athletics president Sebastian Coe has said that anyone who takes part is “moronic,” and World Aquatics, which oversees international competitions in water sports, has banned Enhanced Games participants from its events and activities.

But. The games—and the participating athletes—will still get a huge amount of attention. As a result, so will performance-enhancing drugs. Enhanced, the company behind the games, also runs an online store. There, you can buy a $52 T-shirt emblazoned with the message “I am Enhanced.”

There is also a range of prescription drugs on offer, including peptides “to support recovery, vitality, and longevity.” One of these is a growth hormone that the FDA approved in 1997 for the treatment of children with “growth failure.” The compounded version offered on the Enhanced website, which is not FDA approved, is marketed for longevity, supporting deep sleep and “overall wellness and vitality.” (“Marketed” is the key word here. The drug has, again, not been approved for that purpose.)

It all fits very well with the zeitgeist. Sure, we don’t yet have any drugs that are designed to extend human lifespan. But the search for anti-aging drugs is getting more attention—and funding—than ever. People, particularly women, are seemingly not allowed to visibly age anymore—we have filters and facelifts for that now. The idea that “death is wrong” is gaining acceptance.

And self-experimentation is rife. “Biohacking” was shortlisted for Collins Dictionary’s Word of the Year in 2025. Peptides are everywhere, despite all the unknowns surrounding their safety and effectiveness. So are longevity clinics, despite the fact that most are selling unproven treatments. US states like Montana are making it easier for people to get hold of unapproved “therapies.”

Companies are even offering would-be parents the option to choose the potential future children expected to live longest. Yep—you can supposedly optimize your embryos now, too.

In this climate, the Enhanced Games don’t feel so radical. They feel entirely fitting for our era of questionable optimization despite the risks —an era when, apparently, being human is no longer enough.

Google I/O showed how the path for AI-driven science is shifting

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  • Singularity rhetoric meets real-world tools: Google DeepMind CEO Demis Hassabis declared we’re in the “foothills of the singularity” — after showing off a hurricane forecasting tool. The gap between that grand vision and current successes captures a genuine tension inside AI science right now.
  • Specialized systems are losing the spotlight: Nobel Prize-winning AlphaFold transformed biology, but Google appears to be quietly shifting resources toward general-purpose AI agents — including having AlphaFold co-creator John Jumper work on AI coding.
  • Agentic AI is making real scientific moves: An OpenAI general reasoning model just disproved a significant mathematics conjecture, suggesting that AI doesn’t need to be purpose-built for science to meaningfully advance it.
  • Google is hedging its language, if not its bets: The company calls one of its agentic systems “AI Co-Scientist” rather than “AI Scientist” — a deliberate choice — but if Hassabis is right about where this is heading, that distinction may not hold for long.

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During Tuesday’s Google I/O keynote, Demis Hassabis, the CEO of Google DeepMind, proclaimed that we are currently “standing in the foothills of the singularity.” It was a striking statement—the singularity is the theoretical future moment when AI rapidly exceeds human intelligence and dramatically transforms the world. But what struck me as I listened in the audience was the context in which he said those words. 

He was on stage to close out the session with a segment on scientific AI, the centerpiece of which was a video detailing how the company’s weather prediction software provided an advance alert about Hurricane Melissa’s catastrophic landfall in Jamaica last year—and potentially saved lives. If that software, called WeatherNext, helped anyone escape the storm or better fortify their home, that’s an enormous and meaningful achievement. But it’s hardly evidence of an impending singularity.

The juxtaposition of Hassabis’ lofty rhetoric with the real-world results of WeatherNext highlighted the tension between two very different approaches to AI for science. The first focuses on AI tools, like WeatherNext, that are designed and trained to solve specific scientific problems. The second is agentic, LLM-based systems that could one day execute cutting-edge research projects without human involvement.

This second vision powers a great deal of AI enthusiasm right now, including recent excitement around recursive self-improvement, or the idea that AI systems could eventually become the primary drivers of AI advancement—a process that would get faster and faster as the AI systems grow smarter. And agentic systems are now making real research contributions, sometimes with limited human guidance.

Just this week, Pushmeet Kohli, Google Cloud’s chief scientist, published a piece in a special AI and science issue of the journal Daedalus, writing: “We are moving toward AI that doesn’t just facilitate science but begins to do science.” With autonomous AI scientists on the horizon, it’s harder to justify massive efforts to develop super-specialized tools—even one like AlphaFold, for which DeepMind scientists won a Nobel Prize, or a potentially life-saving system like WeatherNext. It also heralds a far stranger future for science, in which humans and AI systems collaborate as peers—or AI even makes scientific progress on its own.

To be clear, Google does not appear to be abandoning its work on specialized AI for science tools. AlphaGenome and AlphaEarth Foundations, which are trained for genetics and Earth science applications respectively, were released last summer, and the newest version of WeatherNext came out in November.

What’s more, such tools remain extremely popular among scientists. Last year, for instance, Google reported that protein structure predictions from AlphaFold have been used by over three million researchers worldwide. And Isomorphic Labs, a Google subsidiary that aims to use AlphaFold and related technologies to develop new drugs, just raised a $2 billion Series B funding round.

But there are concrete signs of realignment, in both enthusiasm and resources. Last month, the Los Angeles Times reported that Google fellow John Jumper, who won the Nobel for AlphaFold, is now working on AI coding, not on science-specific AI tools. It’s not surprising that Google is assigning its best minds to the coding problem, as the company has recently taken a reputational hit because its coding tools don’t currently stand up to those offered by Anthropic and OpenAI. But it may also signal a prioritization of agentic science on Google’s part, as coding abilities are key to the success of some of those systems. 

Across the industry, agentic researcher systems are showing real potential. This week, OpenAI announced that one of their models had disproved an important mathematics conjecture—perhaps the most meaningful contribution that generative AI has made to mathematics so far, according to some mathematicians.

Importantly, the model used by OpenAI is not specialized for solving mathematical problems, or even for research; according to the company, it’s a general-purpose reasoning model in the vein of GPT-5.5. If general agents can make independent contributions to mathematical research, they might soon be able to do the same in science (though the fact that ideas in science must be verified experimentally makes it a tougher domain for AI).

Google is certainly devoting a lot of attention toward an agent-driven scientific future. The big scientific announcement at I/O was the new Gemini for Science package, which unites several of the company’s LLM-based scientific systems under one brand.

This includes the hypothesis-generating AI Co-Scientist and algorithm-optimizing AlphaEvolve, which are still not publicly available—but as Google is now allowing any researcher to apply for access to Gemini for Science, they may soon see wider adoption in the scientific community. Scientists who were involved in early testing are enthusiastic about their potential: Gary Peltz, a Stanford geneticist, compared using the AI Co-Scientist to “consulting the oracle of Delphi” in a Nature Medicine article.

Gemini for Science isn’t incompatible with specialized tools; to the contrary, agentic systems can be designed to call on such tools when they might be useful. And no agentic system can predict the structure that a protein will fold into without AlphaFold’s help (at least not yet). But the company seems to be shifting its public image—and at least some resources and personnel, such as Jumper—away from specifically developing those kinds of tools. Though it has only been five years since AlphaFold solved the protein-folding problem, both the technology and the discourse have quickly moved beyond that once-revolutionary achievement.

Google has been careful to position this new set of scientific agents as an accelerant for human scientists, rather than a replacement for them—the choice of the name AI Co-Scientist as opposed to AI Scientist, for instance, appears quite deliberate. Hassabis uses that same human-centric framing when he talks about changes in the landscape of scientific AI. “For the next decade or so, we should think about AI as this amazing tool to help scientists,” Hassabis said in an interview published in the Daedalus issue. “Beyond that timeframe, it is hard to say with any certainty, but perhaps these systems will become more like collaborators.”

But no one can be an effective scientific collaborator without also being a skilled scientist in their own right. And if Hassabis is anywhere near the mark when he talks about the “foothills of the singularity,” then AI scientists could eventually exceed the capabilities of their human counterparts.

In a discussion with the journalist Mike Allen at I/O, Hassabis spoke of how he was initially inspired to pursue AI when he observed how progress in physics had stagnated since the 1970s; he wondered whether the human mind had reached its limits in that domain, and if AI could help to overcome that barrier. Superhuman agentic scientists would certainly fit that bill. We might not ever get anywhere near there, but Google seems to be aiming itself toward that summit.

Tech researchers are suing the Trump administration over the future of online safety

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  • Researchers are fighting back: The Coalition for Independent Technology Research is suing the Trump administration over visa restrictions targeting foreign-born researchers who study content moderation and online safety, arguing the policy is unconstitutional and chills free speech.
  • A deliberately broad crackdown: The policy, announced by Secretary of State Marco Rubio, claims to target individuals that facilitate “foreign censorship.” But the lawsuit alleges that this is vague enough that anyone in fact-checking or online safety could theoretically face travel bans or deportation.
  • Real people, real consequences: As one example of the real consequences of chilling effects, online safety expert Eirliani Abdul Rahman left the US for Germany, describing the climate of government action and shifting tech company policies as untenable for her to continue her work safely or effectively
  • ,

  • The stakes go beyond researchers: The outcome could affect what the public learns about AI and social media risks; it was independent research quantifying the extent of Grok’s generation of millions of sexualized images of children that triggered government investigations worldwide.

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Since its earliest days back in office, the Trump administration has been going after researchers who study and try to counter hate speech, harassment, propaganda, and disinformation online. 

Now, some of those researchers are fighting back. Last week their lawsuit—which could have global repercussions for online safety and free speech—made its first appearance in court

This fight started a year ago, when US Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced on X what he called a “visa restriction policy” against “foreign officials and other persons” who were “complicit in censoring Americans.” Since then, a handful of foreign officials and researchers have been barred from travel to the US, and in theory, anyone working in fact-checking or online trust and safety more broadly could face the same restrictions. 

Still, the exact implications of Rubio’s announcement are unclear—purposefully so, argues Carrie DeCell, a lawyer representing the researchers. “This policy is expansive and incredibly vague, and the chilling effects are correspondingly enormous,” DeCell said outside the courthouse in Washington, DC, on May 13.  

The case has been brought by the Coalition for Independent Technology Research (CITR), an advocacy organization for tech researchers. It is suing Rubio, former US secretary of homeland security Kristi Noem, and former US attorney general Pam Bondi and asking the court to strike down the policy as unconstitutional. In their complaint, the plaintiffs say the policy violates the speech and due process rights of foreign-born tech researchers and workers whose “work supports greater moderation of content on the [tech] platforms.”

CITR is represented by Columbia University’s Knight First Amendment Institute and the legal nonprofit Protect Democracy. DeCell, a senior staff attorney at the Knight Institute, tells MIT Technology Review that they’re in court because the Trump administration is effectively “using immigration law to punish people for expressing views that it disagrees with.” 


This story is part of MIT Technology Review’s “America Undone” series, examining how the foundations of US success in science and innovation are currently under threat. You can read the rest here.


Most immediately, the plaintiffs are asking the government to halt these visa restrictions while the case proceeds. Zachariah Lindsey, the assistant US attorney representing Rubio and the other defendants, argued in last week’s hearing that the government is not targeting speech but, rather, “conduct [that] is assisting or facilitating foreign government censorship of free speech.” At the end of the week, the government filed a motion to dismiss the case.

The judge has yet to rule on either motion, and his questions so far appeared to focus on parsing what (and who) is actually affected by the State Department’s announcements, as well as other procedural issues. 

The outcome of the case may ultimately affect how much the public knows about the risks of social media and AI, says Nicole Schneidman, head of Protect Democracy’s technology and data governance team. The workers bringing this suit, she says, “serve a really, really important function in educating the public, holding tech companies accountable, doing research on the ramifications that advanced technology has on our society.” 

“A political witch hunt”

CITR’s lawsuit is the latest salvo in a yearslong battle over how the internet should be moderated, and by whom—a question that has become increasingly political and entangled in allegations of censorship. 

For years, Trump and his allies have claimed to be victims of a vast conspiracy between government agencies, civil society groups, academics, and Big Tech platforms to specifically censor conservative voices online. According to this narrative, a so-called “censorship-industrial complex” helped the Biden administration subvert First Amendment protections on speech by allegedly outsourcing censorship to these groups.

The State Department claims Rubio was able to implement the immigration policy because the Immigration and Nationality Act authorizes him to “render inadmissible any alien whose entry into the United States ‘would have potentially serious adverse foreign policy consequences for the United States.’” Before the current Trump administration, the statute was rarely invoked, and when it was, it was typically with more limited, specific criteria, rather than its current application against anyone who has participated in alleged censorship—an action that has no legal definition. 

The administration first deployed the policy in July 2025, when Rubio issued a statement announcing the revocation of visas for Alexandre de Moraes, the lead justice on the Brazilian Supreme Federal Court, and “his allies on the court” who were involved in prosecuting Jair Bolsonaro, Brazil’s former president. The prosecution was a “political witch hunt,” said Rubio, calling it evidence of a “censorship complex so sweeping that it not only violates basic rights of Brazilians, but also … targets Americans.”

Then, in early December, the State Department issued instructions to embassies to reject H-1B visa applications from individuals who had worked specifically in fact-checking, online trust and safety, and mis- or disinformation research, as Reuters first reported. 

A few weeks later, on December 23, the agency announced visa restrictions for five Europeans whom it accused of censoring Americans. This included two CITR members: Imran Ahmed, founder and CEO of the Center for Countering Digital Hate, which documents hate speech on social media platforms, and Clare Melford, cofounder of the Global Disinformation Index, which ranks websites according to how often they publish hate speech and disinformation. Also banned were the former European Union commissioner Thierry Breton, a key architect of the European Union’s Digital Services Act (which the State Department has called “Orwellian” and an example of censorship), and Josephine Ballon and Anna-Lena von Hodenberg, co-CEOs of HateAid, a German nonprofit that fights online hate speech. 

Ahmed, who lives in the US with his American wife and child, quickly filed his own lawsuit to stave off deportation and halt the policy. A preliminary injunction preventing his detention and deportation is in place as the lawsuit continues. 

The Department of Homeland Security referred questions from MIT Technology Review to the State Department, which referred “specific questions” to the Department of Justice, while also writing that “the Trump Administration believes that aliens who are or were involved or complicit in censoring American citizens must face appropriate consequences. An American visa is a privilege not a right.” The Department of Justice did not respond to a request for comment. 

“A gut punch”

Now, more tech researchers are fighting back. 

CITR represents 500 individual and institutional members in 47 countries; 40 are based in the United States, including around 30 noncitizens. The organization argues that US-based tech researchers are experiencing a widespread chilling effect and are having to change or reframe what they’re studying so that it’s less explicitly (or less obviously) about content moderation or countering disinformation. Alternatively, some are leaving the US altogether, or making plans to do so, in order to safely carry out their work. 

CITR member Eirliani Abdul Rahman, a Singaporean online safety expert and a founding member of Twitter’s Trust and Safety Council, is one of these individuals. Her experience was included, though described anonymously, in CITR’s initial legal complaint. 

Back in December 2022, shortly after Elon Musk purchased Twitter, Abdul Rahman and two other Trust and Safety Council members publicly resigned. They spoke out against “red lines” the new owner had crossed, including his reinstatement of accounts that had previously been banned, and noted the marked increase in hate speech on the platform. 

Musk disbanded the council days later, but first he retweeted a post that tagged Abdul Rahman and the others and said: “You all belong in jail.” This led to a level of online harassment, doxxing, and death threats that she had never before experienced. “I was trained as an economist, and I could just see line graphs form in my head of the stochastic jump in what happened,” Abdul Rahman says, referring to the way the dangerous attention spiked after Musk effectively endorsed the other user’s provocation. 

This experience inspired her to pursue a new area of research: using quantitative methods to study and hopefully stop social media harassment “in real time,” she says. 

“The ones that are most harassed are people [who] have historically been marginalized,” she adds. “Most of us know about this already, like it’s intuitive. But until you quantify it, sometimes it’s just not seen and taken seriously.”   

But then Trump was reelected, making the work feel untenable. The US quickly became “a funding desert” for scientific research, she says, with federal support for any research perceived by conservatives to focus on mis/disinformation getting cut. At the same time, tech companies shifted their positions on content moderation to align with the president’s, meaning that her research would be unlikely to have any practical implications: “There’s simply no guardrails around social media anymore,” she says. 

Fast-forward to December 2025, and the travel bans on the five Europeans felt like “a gut punch to the stomach,” Abdul Rahman says. She and Ahmed had both testified earlier in the year before the UK Parliament on the role social media played in spreading false claims about the supposed Muslim identity of a murderer who had killed three British girls; this online activity contributed to violent anti-immigrant and Islamophobic riots across the country in the summer of 2024. 

The targeting of Ahmed and the other Europeans “was the last straw” for Abdul Rahman. Soon after, she left the US for a six-year fellowship in Germany aimed at supporting “international academic freedom”—coincidentally arriving in the country on the same day CITR filed its lawsuit. 

“My body just calmed down,” Abdul Rahman says of landing in Germany. “I didn’t wake up in the middle of the night … always wondering about the next executive order and how it pertained to my situation.”

Abdul Rahman believes this legal battle has implications that reach beyond CITR members and their families. It “pertains to all immigrants in the US to protect our First Amendment rights,” she says.

Additionally, whether fact-checkers, online trust and safety workers, and tech researchers can continue to do their work has a broader impact on anyone who uses the internet. 

Earlier this year, for example, Ahmed’s Center for Countering Digital Hate published widely cited research that Grok’s image-editing feature had generated an estimated 3 million sexualized images, including 23,000 images of children, in an 11-day period. This led to government investigations, lawsuits, and even temporary bans for Grok’s parent company, xAI, across the United States and world. 

“The threats have really sharpened”

MIT Technology Review has reported extensively on this right-wing war on supposed censorship; one of our stories revealing that State Department leadership requested communications records from a now-shuttered office focused on countering foreign disinformation has been included as an exhibit in the CITR lawsuit. This request sought insight into communications with a slew of individuals some far-right activists allege are involved in the “censorship-industrial complex,” including journalists, the German foreign minister, and numerous researchers studying disinformation and hate speech (including Medford, Ahmed, and their organizations).

DeCell tells us that over the past year and a half, there have been more lawsuits against the Trump administration regarding free speech—because “the threats have really sharpened,” she says.

Last year, the Knight Institute sued Rubio on behalf of of university faculty and students who have been arrested, detained, and deported for their pro-Palestinian speech; this past January, a judge ruled that the administration’s deportation policy was unconstitutional. The risk to free speech rights is “palpable” when the government “decides to target people specifically with the threat of rounding them off the streets, throwing them into a detention center, and then potentially deporting them from this country,” DeCell says. 

Though Abdul Rahman is safely abroad for now, she says she’s watching the CITR lawsuit closely. Ultimately, she says, she believes it will determine whether researchers will be able to continue to do their work, “which is to take social media platforms to account,” she says—“making sure there’s actual accountability and independent oversight is critical to protecting our democracies.” 

Climate tech companies are pivoting to critical minerals

We’re over a year into the second Trump administration here in the US, and support for climate causes is weak. But climate tech companies are finding ways to survive and even thrive in this new environment, including by focusing on potential benefits outside decarbonization.

Suddenly, it feels like every climate tech company has a story to tell about topics that are politically in vogue: data centers, energy abundance, or critical minerals. In my newest story, I covered Boston Metal’s latest funding round. Largely known for its efforts to produce steel with lower greenhouse gas emissions, the company raised $75 million from new and existing investors to help support its critical metals business.

Focusing on metals like niobium and tantalum won’t have the massive climate benefit that cleaner steel would, but it could generate the cash the company needs to keep going. It’s a strategy I’m noticing more as these tough industries like steel look ever tougher to succeed in with limited federal support in the US.  

Boston Metal’s molten oxide electrolysis technology uses electricity to produce metals.

I covered the startup last year, when it announced a major milestone for its steel business, running its pilot reactor in Massachusetts and producing a literal ton of material.

Now the company’s focus has shifted, and it is going all-in on making other metals, from niobium and tantalum (used in aircraft engines and high-end steel alloys) to chromium and vanadium.

The steel industry is a difficult one: It operates at a massive scale, and the product doesn’t command too high a price. Focusing on other metals, especially ones the US government deems critical, could be a way to stay afloat, maybe even long enough to meaningfully cut emissions from the steel industry. 

“By deploying in the critical metals industry where we can go very fast, we generate the resources to continue with the development of steel,” says Tadeu Carneiro, CEO of Boston Metal.

Other companies are also hoping critical materials could help their business models.

California-based Brimstone has a new process to make cement—another heavily polluting industry that’s proving difficult to decarbonize. The company uses a new starting material to help cut down on carbon dioxide emissions. In addition to cement, it makes supplementary cementitious materials that can be added into concrete as well as smelter-grade alumina.

Last year, the US Department of Energy canceled $1.3 billion in funding that had been set aside for cement-related projects. Brimstone saw one of its awards canceled, as did Sublime Systems, another cement startup I’ve covered a lot over the years.

At the time, a Brimstone representative told me that the company saw the cancellation as a “misunderstanding” and said the facility the funding had been designated for would make not only cement, but also alumina, which would support US aluminum production.

Today, the company’s website prominently highlights that it produces critical minerals in addition to cement.

Some carbon dioxide removal companies are hoping to hop on the critical minerals train, too, aiming to work with the mining industry. Others are pitching that they can help mining operations operate more efficiently or serve as cleanup for active or abandoned mine sites.

All of this is part of a much broader messaging shift. Everyone from politicians to heads of energy companies is talking less about climate.

It’s a trend that makes me nervous, even if I understand the impulse. I worry that if we keep too quiet on climate, companies might lose the plot and make choices that won’t help cut emissions. But for some, leaning into a different priority or pushing a different message could help them stay in business long enough to make a difference. We’ll all have to wait to see how it all pans out.

This article is from The Spark, MIT Technology Review’s weekly climate newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Wednesday, sign up here

Anthropic’s Code with Claude showed off coding’s future—whether you like it or not

The vibes were strong at Code with Claude, Anthropic’s two-day event for software developers in London that kicked off on May 19, the same day as Google’s I/O in Palo Alto. (A coincidence, not a flex, Anthropic staffers assured me.)

“Who here has shipped a pull request in the last week that was completely written by Claude?” Jeremy Hadfield, an engineer at Anthropic, asked from the main stage. Almost half the people in the packed room—many sitting with laptops on their knees, coding or prompting as they watched the talks—raised their hands.

Pull requests are fixes or updates to existing software that are submitted for review before they go live. They are the bread and butter of software development, the chunks of code that most professional developers spend their lives writing—or did until now.

“Who here has shipped a pull request that was completely written by Claude where they did not read the code at all?” Hadfield asked next. Nervous laughter. Most of the hands stayed up.

It’s not news that LLM-powered tools like Anthropic’s Claude Code and OpenAI’s Codex have upended the way software gets made. Top tech companies now like to boast of how little code their developers write by hand. (“Most software at Anthropic is now written by Claude,” Hadfield said. “Claude has written most of the code in Claude Code.”) OpenAI, Google, and Microsoft make similar claims. Many others wish they could.

Even so, it is striking how normal this new paradigm already seems, and how fast it has set in. This was the second year that Anthropic has put on developer events, which also run in San Francisco and Tokyo. This time last year, the company had just released Claude 4. It could code, kind of. But with Anthropic’s latest string of updates—especially Claude 4.6 and then 4.7, released in February and April—Claude Code is a tool that more and more developers seem happy to hand their work off to.   

An 8-bit character with a chef's hat in a pixel kitchen flips food in a fry pan over a pixel stove
Let Claude cook.
ANTHROPIC (GRAPHIC) / WILL DOUGLAS HEAVEN (PHOTO)

Anthropic says its goal is to push automation as far as it will go. Instead of using AI to generate code and then having humans clean it up and fix the mistakes, it wants Claude to check and correct its own work. “The default isn’t ‘I’m going to prompt Claude’—the default is now ‘I’m going to have Claude prompt itself,’” Boris Cherny, who heads Claude Code, said in the opening keynote.

If all goes well, human developers shouldn’t even see the error messages when something doesn’t work. That will all be handled by Claude, which will test and tweak, test and tweak, until everything runs as it should. As Ravi Trivedi, an engineer at Anthropic, put it in another talk: “The key principle is getting out of Claude’s way. We like to say: ‘Let it cook.’”

Trivedi presented a new feature in Claude Code, announced two weeks ago, which Anthropic calls dreaming. Claude Code agents write notes to themselves, recording and saving useful information about specific tasks. When another coding agent later starts to work on the same code, it can use the notes to get up to speed faster and learn from any errors that previous agents may have made.

Dreaming is a system that Claude Code uses to read through all these notes and consolidate the information they contain, spotting patterns and common issues across different tasks. In theory, dreaming should help Claude Code learn about a particular code base and get better and better at working on it.

Success stories

Code with Claude is an event aimed at developers. As well as product showcases and hands-on workshops from Anthropic, there were how-tos from a range of companies that had reshaped their software development teams around Claude Code, including Spotify and Delivery Hero as well as Lovable, Base44, and Monday.com—three startups vibe-coding apps that help people vibe-code apps.

There were no signs of unease at Code with Claude. Everybody I met wanted in.

And yet outside the conference there have been a number of reports that many coders are starting to question this bright new future. Some gripe in online forums like Reddit and Hacker News that AI coding tools are being pushed by managers chasing productivity gains, when in practice the technology makes software development harder because of all the extra code developers now have to review. “The only people I’ve heard saying that generated code is fine are those who don’t read it,” a user called pron posted on Hacker News last week. 

Others claim that their coding abilities have fallen off as they hand more tasks to AI. And researchers have warned that AI tools can produce unsafe code that will make software more vulnerable to attacks.  

I sat down with Claude engineering lead Katelyn Lesse and Claude product lead Angela Jiang and asked them what they made of the concerns that a sudden flood of code generated (and shipped) without proper human oversight was kicking serious security and maintenance problems down the road.

“All of the old software development best practices still apply. They’ve applied this entire time,” said Lesse. “I think there are a lot of people and teams that may have lost sight of them in this moment.” 

And yet as Anthropic and others push for greater automation and tools like Claude Code improve, the temptation increases to offload more and more tasks, including oversight. Lesse told me that some of the technical managers at Anthropic are exhausted by keeping up with all the code their teams now produce. “Part of things happening so much more quickly is just managing your time,” she said.

“I think that right now Claude is probably as good as a midlevel engineer at writing code,” she added. You still need expert engineers to design a system and troubleshoot harder problems, she said, “But over time we want Claude to get better and better at all different types of engineering.”

Jiang agreed: “I think the absolute end state we’re trying to get to is Claude basically being able to build itself.”

Green steel startup Boston Metal is doubling down on critical metals

<div data-chronoton-summary="

  • Boston Metal has raised $75 million after a rough stretch that included an industrial incident and laying off 71 employees earlier this year.
  • The company is shifting focus to critical metals like niobium, tantalum, and chromium, which command higher prices and could help prove its technology before returning to steel.
  • Its commercial facility in Brazil, delayed by an electrolyte leak in January, is now being repaired and is expected to start up in September 2026.
  • The round includes support from Tata Steel, one of the world’s largest steelmakers, bringing Boston Metal’s total funding to over $500 million.

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The startup Boston Metal has raised a $75 million funding round to produce critical metals, MIT Technology Review can exclusively report.  

The company has been known largely for its efforts to clean up steel production, an industry that’s responsible for about 8% of global greenhouse emissions today. With the additional money, the new focus could help it survive at a time when support for industrial decarbonization has been waning in the US.

In addition to steel, Boston Metal has also worked to use its technology with other metals, and a subsidiary (Boston Metal do Brasil) is setting up a commercial facility in Brazil to produce niobium, tantalum, and tin. The funding will help support that facility’s operation as well as future efforts to produce critical metals like vanadium, nickel, and chromium, says CEO Tadeu Carneiro. The funding comes after the company faced cash-flow problems following an industrial accident at the Brazil facility earlier this year.

Boston Metal’s core technology is called molten oxide electrolysis (MOE). It involves running electric current through a reactor filled with ore dissolved in a molten electrolyte. The electricity heats everything up to about 1,600 °C (3,000 °F) and drives chemical reactions that separate the desired metal (or metals) from the ore. The metal gathers at the bottom of the reactor, where it can be siphoned off.

In early 2025, Boston Metal completed the largest run of its pilot industrial cell in Woburn, Massachusetts, producing about a ton of steel.

But the focus is currently on making other metals, which are more valuable and can command a higher price. The company’s Brazilian subsidiary is working to test and start up an industrial-scale plant that takes in a low-grade material and makes a mixture of critical metals. Niobium, for example, is used in some steel alloys, as well as in alloys used to make jet engines and the superconducting magnets of MRI scanners. Tantalum is used in aerospace applications like rocket nozzles and turbine blades, as well as medical devices and electronics.

Construction on the Brazil plant kicked off in 2024 and took about 18 months, but the company ran into some challenges that delayed official startup.

In January there was an issue with the plant’s refractory system, the equipment that insulates the reactor and prevents corrosion. That caused electrolyte to leak. Operators shut down the system and removed the metal, and there weren’t any injuries or environmental issues, Carneiro says.

But the leak did interfere with the timeline for the plant’s opening, which meant the company missed a milestone and lost out on funding that had been committed. It restructured and laid off 71 employees in April.

This new funding will help support the plant moving forward. “Because of this delay, we had a big stress in our cash flow, so the investors came very strong to support us,” Carneiro says. Boston Metal is repairing the facility in Brazil now, and it should be ready to start up in September 2026, he adds.  

The funding will also help support other critical metals projects, Carneiro says. The company plans to eventually deploy a US plant to produce chromium, a metal the country imports nearly all its supply of today. 

Boston Metal has now raised over $500 million in total. The latest round of funding includes support from existing investors and from the massive Indian steel company Tata Steel Unlimited.

Making a higher-value critical metal now could help Boston Metal prove its technology and pave the way for future steel projects, says Seaver Wang, director of climate and energy at the Breakthrough Institute. “Nobody wants to pay a green premium for steel—hence niobium,” he adds.