Roughly half the world’s population is female, but the STEM fields don’t reflect that. The 2024 U.N. Global Education Monitoring Report on gender found that about 35 percent of STEM college graduates were women. The proportion hasn’t increased much in more than a decade.

When it comes to STEM careers, the percentage is even lower. Women made up about 28 percent of the global STEM workforce in 2024, according to the World Economic Forum.

There are myriad factors for the discrepancy, including a lack of family support, some teachers encouraging only boys to pursue STEM subjects, and a shortage of female role models.

But one force is at play long before college majors are ever considered: limited access to STEM-focused educational resources for preuniversity students. Especially for students in rural communities, the limited access curtails curiosity in STEM subjects before interest can take root. Although the lack of opportunity impacts boys and girls alike, when combined with other factors it can have an outsized effect on girls in some rural regions.

IEEE Fellow Rajiv Joshi is one of the creators of the Women in Science, Engineering project. He is a principal scientist and master inventor at the IBM Watson Research Center, in Yorktown Heights, N.Y.Rajiv Joshi

One such place is rural India. The challenges of pursuing a STEM education—or any education at all—increase sharply as rural Indian girls move into their teen years. Social barriers including early marriage, traditional gender roles, and familial expectations for financial support contribute to girls’ dropping out of school, according to the Mahadev Maitri Foundation, a nongovernment organization focused on childhood education in underdeveloped areas. Dropout rates for girls spike between the ages of 11 to 14, according to the foundation.

The trend is something IEEE Fellow Rajiv Joshi and IEEE Senior Member Rajesh Zele want to change. A shared passion to keep rural Indian girls from dropping out of school and on paths to STEM careers led them to launch the Women in Science, Engineering (WiSE) project.

“Talent is universal, but opportunity is not,” Joshi says. “WiSE is one way to expand opportunities.”

Bringing the WiSE vision to life

Joshi, vice president of industry for the IEEE Circuits and Systems Society (CASS), is a principal scientist and master inventor at the IBM Watson Research Center, in Yorktown Heights, N.Y. Zele is a professor of electrical engineering at the Indian Institute of Technology Bombay (IIT-B), in suburban Mumbai.

They presented their proposal for the three-year initiative to the society’s board of governors in 2022 and received a grant of US $80,000.

The framework

WiSE was a five-day, hands-on learning program held on the IIT-B campus. Starting in 2023, it ran for three years and was held during the last week of March. A new cohort of 160 to 200 girls from rural and tribal areas in the states of Maharashtra and Karnataka attended each year.

The event was divided into two parts: hands-on learning through Break-Make-Program (BMP) experiences and presentations by influential female Indian role models.

Zele, project manager Arti Auti, several IIT-B faculty members, and about 70 student volunteers from the institute oversaw the program.

Selecting the first cohort

With funding secured, Zele and his team on the ground in India got busy selecting attendees for the inaugural 2023 class. They reached out to administrators at 68 schools in Maharashtra and Karnataka. Although the two states are among the most urbanized in the country, each has vast rural areas where educating teen girls competes with early marriage and familial support pressure.

Teachers identified girls with high scores in mathematics and science, and community leaders recommended students who could benefit from the program.

Then outreach to their parents began. The adults were required to commit their own time, not just grant permission for their daughters to attend. They participated in quarterly online meetings that included the girls’ teachers, IIT-B student mentors, and other program volunteers after the week concluded. The check-ins held parents accountable for supporting their daughters’ continuing school attendance. The commitment to join the meetings was to last for at least four years after their daughter’s program participation ended.

Hands-on learning is key

Participants stayed in one of the institute’s dormitories for the week and attended sessions held Monday through Friday.

They worked together in small teams to build things rooted in STEM concepts. The teams were supervised by Arti, IIT-B faculty, and student volunteers.

“The idea behind BMP,” Joshi says, “was to give the girls an opportunity to take a gadget apart, then rebuild it, perfect it, or come up with a totally new idea.”

The sessions included working with bioluminescence and bacteria (introducing participants to biology and microbiology), learning about autonomous underwater vehicles, and building a remote-controlled robot. The robot construction was the capstone event, allowing the girls to combine the mechanical and electronics engineering skills they’d practiced throughout the week.

The build kits were created by students in Zele’s Advanced Integrated Circuits and Systems Lab. The girls and teachers were allowed to take the kits home to keep the learning going and spread STEM awareness.

“Many girls used those kits at different events to demonstrate their STEM skills to others,” Joshi says. One was Sushi Pawar, who built a drone during WiSE, then went on to demonstrate it to a national audience.

“I presented the drone project in 2024 to Prime Minister Narendra Modi during the Pariksha Pe Charcha,” Pawar says. That initiative is an annual event open for students in classes 6 to 12, their teachers, and parents. The focus is on helping students manage stress during exam time through fun and celebratory activities. The event is supported by the Indian Ministry of Education and hosted by the prime minister.

Each year, millions of students complete an online multiple-choice test to qualify to attend in person and meet the prime minister. In 2024 nearly 4,000 participants attended.

Inspiration as the foundation

WiSE was about more than hands-on learning. It also included daily presentations from “Winspirers”: Indian women who achieved success in their lives or had STEM careers. They included scientists, doctors, military officers, professors, and other women who overcame obstacles.

The first such speaker was Savita Dakle, a farmer from Maharashtra who dropped out of school after 10th grade, got married, and had two children.

Despite limited farming knowledge, she learned quickly and built a coalition of 400 female farmers from her village. She taught them how to use mobile phones and social media to share information and resources.

Today, that coalition has more than 1 million members in two online communities. They share tips on market pricing, growing crops, and more.

Zele says he views Dakle as the ideal Winspirer: someone who built a thriving business with few resources and no academic or professional credentials.

Dakle mirrors the challenges faced by many program participants, he says, noting that many girls face pressure to leave school early to marry or financially support their family. She is living proof, he says, that no girl’s circumstances define her possibilities.

The practical impact of WiSE

No empirical data yet exists to measure the project’s success, but feedback from participants shows the program has made a difference. Many from the 2023 cohort remained in school and are now pursuing higher education.

Participant Tejswini Manoj Patil credits the initiative with boosting her confidence in science and math.

“Before WiSE,” she says, “I was interested in STEM but felt intimidated by the complexity of the subjects. After participating, my interest shifted from passive curiosity to active confidence. The hands-on projects showed me that I am capable of solving real-world problems.”

Meeting female role models was important, attendee Ritu Ravindra Patil says, adding: “WiSE completely changed my perspective, and meeting the Winspirers inspired me to aim for higher education.”

The project opened career perspectives for some.

“Before WiSE, I wanted to be a doctor,” Pallavi Bharti says. “I believed engineering was very stressful and boring. When I joined the program and explored IIT-B, I was amazed. Everyone was so friendly and supportive, and the passion in students for their work motivated me. All those experiences gave me confidence to take math classes and become an engineer.”

What’s next?

The initiative ended last year, but the framework it built lives on. Groups with similar goals have adopted parts of the concept, Joshi says.

The IEEE CASS chapters in Bangalore and Kerala are likely to be among the first to advance the initiative’s ideas, he says.

Alex James, an IEEE senior member and founding chair of the IEEE CASS Kerala chapter, has adapted the framework for use in his region, Joshi says. James is a professor of AI hardware and a dean at Digital University Kerala in Thiruvananthapuram.

Joshi guided James as WiSE concepts were implemented.

IEEE Senior Members Jayesh Tanwani and Suman Dwivedi from the IEEE CASS Bangalore chapter are likely to bring program concepts into their work, Joshi says.

Tanwani, chair of the Bangalore chapter, is a system-on-a-chip design engineering manager at Intel in Bengaluru. Dwivedi is a senior manager at Synopsys in Bengaluru. They are bringing STEM outreach to remote schools in Karnataka.

Joshi and Zele say they hope to see the concept expand beyond India.

“We want to spread this across other continents and see how we can integrate WiSE into new or existing initiatives in those places,” Joshi says. He says he has received requests from countries in Asia, Africa, and Europe for information on WiSE.

Both say awareness and outreach are key things that IEEE CASS chapters around the world are well positioned to support.

“We want to make a difference in young women’s lives,” Zele says. “It’s all about giving attendees the skills to stand on their own feet and have the information to make good decisions.”

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In the chill of a London spring night, under overcast skies, iconic Trafalgar Square opens around me. Admiral Nelson rises on his pedestal, the National Gallery rests behind, the church of St Martin-in-the-Fields sits nearby. From the 13th century, the site served as the Royal Mews for hawks and then horses. By 1844, it was a public space at the heart of one of the biggest cities in the world.

Despite the square’s presence through that grand sweep of history, it’s not why I’m here. My interest is far more specific: I want to find out what happens to spaces like this when artificial light, specifically from light-emitting diodes (LEDs), intrudes. My companion tonight is Simon Thorp, a local lighting designer, who crouches in the shadows near Nelson’s spire, light meter in hand. “Two lux,” he reports, “and it’s very comfortable here.” Two lux is 10 to 20 times the illuminance of a full moon. We can see each other clearly, and a nearby sign assures us that closed-circuit television (CCTV) is in operation for safety’s sake.

Trafalgar Square captures the relationship between lighting and darkness that exists in almost every city, suburb, small town, and village around the world. The lighting here is a mishmash of old technologies and new, of shadow and glare, the ornamental gas lamps fronting the National Gallery all but washed out by the LEDs inside modern versions of traditional “brass and glass” fixtures a few meters away—21st-century technology housed in 19th-century designs.

The ugly truth of artificial lighting today is that in parts of London, as in many cities around the world, lighting levels are excessive, with unshielded illumination blasting in all directions. And the irony is that too much light invites danger: It creates shadows, impedes our vision, and gives the illusion, without the reality, of safety. Thorp notes that modern CCTV cameras are “pretty great” even at low-light levels, while harsh light makes it hard for both human eyes and digital sensors to see.

“The more bad light we add, the more bad light we think we need,” says Thorp. “We can’t see because of the light we’ve added. And it makes areas that were perfectly okay seem darker.”

Among the costs of this excess, the most alarming may be its toll on human health (and that of other animals) by disrupting circadian rhythms, impeding the production of melatonin, and contributing to sleep disorders that are tied to every major modern disease. New research shows that increased exposure to blue light from LEDs is having “substantial biological impacts” such as suppression of the sleep hormone melatonin and an increased risk for obesity, certain cancers, and type 2 diabetes.

A panoramic view from the Eiffel Tower looks down on the illuminated Champ de Mars gardens [center] leading toward the École Militaire, with the tall silhouette of the Tour Montparnasse visible on the Paris skyline.

Luigi Avantaggiato

I have come to London and Paris—which led the way in the expansion of public street lighting in the 19th century—because they embody both the current enormity of the problem as well as a future certain to be lit by trillions of chips: controllable, tunable, and energy-efficient LEDs.

Living with artificial light at night

The standard justification for nighttime illumination is public safety. Lighting experts’ term for the phenomenon is “artificial light at night.” While people won’t often admit it, the desire for light at night seems to stem from a primal fear of the dark. Darkness is where the bad guys hide. And if dark is bad and light is good, then more light can only be better.

This assumption has guided our use of nighttime light for hundreds of years. And yet, high-lumen output doesn’t necessarily correlate to a reduction in crime, research has found. In other words, if we relied on the data as much as we do our primal anxieties and paused those anxieties long enough to learn how light and darkness interact, our nights would almost certainly be lighted differently—especially now that we have the extraordinary technology that is the light-emitting diode.

A 19th-century gas lamp [white square] manufactured by William Sugg & Co. next to a pedestrian path in Trafalgar Square, along with the architectural floodlighting on the neoclassical facade of the National Gallery, showcase the interplay between modern and historic lighting systems.

Luigi Avantaggiato

The first visible red light-emitting diode was invented by Nick Holonyak in 1962, but LED lighting technology took several decades to develop, before exploding in recent years. Just a decade ago, LED streetlamps were rare. By 2019, more than half of U.S. streetlights were LEDs, and that number is predicted to top 90 percent by 2030. Similar uptake has occurred around the world, even in developing countries, where inexpensive Chinese-made LED fixtures are increasingly common.

This rapid global migration to LEDs represents a shift in the fundamental physics of how we illuminate our world. From oil lamps and candles to gas lamps, early examples of artificial light at night relied on a burning wick, an incredibly inefficient way to create light. An incandescent bulb is effectively a heater that happens to produce light as a by-product, so it squanders nearly all of its energy as heat.

By contrast, LEDs use semiconductors to convert electricity into light. Through this process of electroluminescence, LEDs use up to 90 percent less energy than incandescent bulbs do, which has enabled municipalities to realize an immediate energy savings of 50 percent or more. This fact alone has fueled the technology’s worldwide adoption.

But LEDs aren’t just more efficient and less expensive. The use of solid-state technology gives the lights an extraordinary life-span, often measured in decades rather than years. This significantly lowers the maintenance costs, as city workers spend far fewer hours replacing broken or burned-out lights. Even more striking, by manipulating the properties of the semiconductor material, engineers can dictate the precise color and intensity of the output, something that gives LEDs incredible versatility. For a lighting designer like Thorp, LEDs offer countless possibilities.

Digital control for smarter lighting

Wandering from Trafalgar Square along the edge of St. James’s Park, Thorp and I find ourselves near Westminster Bridge, one of nine city bridges that in 2021 were part of the Illuminated River project, meant to make the Thames more beautiful at night. Each bridge now features a new LED lighting scheme that moves and changes color and intensity to create a coordinated work of art. But Thorp is frustrated that the project did nothing to correct the often glary lighting on the riverbanks. “Why don’t you pay the money to correct all of this bad lighting instead of adding new lighting?” he says. LED technology, he points out, has the potential to fix that problem.

The Illuminated River artwork for Blackfriars Bridge uses a color scheme that closely complements the red pillar supports that remain from the original Blackfriars Railway Bridge.

Luigi Avantaggiato

In fact, this may be the most meaningful potential of LEDs: the ability for a community to control when, where, at what levels, and in which colors its lights shine. A public space like Trafalgar Square could be lit more brightly during rush hour, then dimmed as the night progresses, the lights not only connected to one another but to the surrounding streetlights and commercial lights. Anywhere in the world, LED streetlights could be programmed to rise and fall in brightness depending on the time of night or time of year. They could even be turned off during bird migrations, to reduce the number of birds that are disoriented by the lights and ultimately killed in collisions with reflective and illuminated windows.

Up to now, LED public lighting has largely not been part of any comprehensive plan to curtail and control nighttime illumination. Most LED installations have simply replaced older, inefficient “dumb” electric lighting with newer “dumb” LEDs and thus made light pollution worse. The main reason? Because LED lighting is cheaper, we tend to use more of it—a literally shining example of the Jevons paradox. Even as awareness of light pollution grows, we aren’t yet taking advantage of LED technology’s full potential.

The good news is that we could start tonight. At DarkSky International, the world’s foremost organization fighting light pollution, CEO and executive director Ruskin Hartley tells me the organization has five principles for responsible outdoor lighting: It should be useful, targeted, low level, controlled, and warm-colored. “They’re enabled because of the capabilities of LEDs,” Hartley says.

The technology to control LEDs will be part of the solution. In the olden days of the analog era, a streetlight was either on or off. To change a lighting schedule, you had to physically rewire a circuit. Today, the Digital Addressable Lighting Interface (DALI) protocol turns each luminaire into part of a network, with its own digital address and a driver that reports to a central server. With DALI, the lighting is managed through software rather than physical switches.

Unfortunately, most LED streetlights have been deployed without this technology because it costs more. But Paul Drosihn, general manager of the DALI Alliance, says that using such controls makes the LEDs much easier to maintain. Before the new digital protocol, it took an average of nearly three visits to identify, diagnose, and repair a defective luminaire. “Now it’s one,” Drosihn says. “Saving the cost of sending two guys on a cherry picker to replace those [lights] is immeasurable. What I just described to you is pretty much all the utilities need to know.”

The intricate cast-iron understructure of Westminster Bridge glows in vibrant green and teal light as part of the Illuminated River public art project, a color palette selected to echo the green benches of the nearby House of Commons.

Luigi Avantaggiato

What’s more, DALI allows the tuning of the lights’ spectrum so that they become warmer and less disruptive as the night progresses. Digitally connected, full-spectrum luminaires allow cities to transform the nocturnal experience—saving money, increasing health and safety, and creating a warmer and more appealing atmosphere at night.

This digital intelligence is equally transformative for the “bleed lighting” that spills from building interiors, Drosihn says. “You don’t think of night lighting as coming from inside buildings, but it does,” he says. “Particularly in the States, you drive through any major city and all the lights are on, on every floor of every high-rise, even if no one is home.”

Already, the use of digital controls for interior lighting has become commonplace in some European cities, Drosihn says. By integrating DALI with occupancy sensors and building-management systems that monitor HVAC, electrical systems, and security networks, a skyscraper can become a dynamic participant in the urban environment—dropping a floor’s interior lights to zero the moment the last person leaves. As a result, electronic controls combined with LEDs can act like a dimmer switch for a city’s entire skyline.

White light blights the night

With all the possibilities from LED technology, why are our nights too often lit with harsh and clinical light, casting glare and creating shadows, disrupting human and ecological health, erasing the stars from our skies? The answer starts with the color of LEDs. At first glance, an LED streetlight looks like a collection of small white bulbs, but it’s not. To produce a light we perceive as white, most manufacturers coat a blue semiconductor core with a yellow phosphor material that absorbs a portion of that high-energy blue light. The problem is that this “white” light is still heavily blue, which is exactly the color no species has evolved to expect at night.

And because blue light is the second most energetic part of the visible spectrum (violet is the most), it doesn’t just illuminate our streets and invade our homes. Blue light also scatters in the atmosphere more easily than any other color, which helps to create the hazy, illuminated fog known as sky glow over every city of any size.

“Cooler” colored LEDs in the 4,000- to 6,500-kelvin range offer the most lumens at the lowest cost, so most early adopters installed these blue-rich white lights. The good news is that LED technology has continued to advance, and a growing number of communities are choosing warmer-colored streetlights that have less blue. (Phoenix, for example, converted 100,000 streetlamps to 2,700 K LEDs in 2020.) And, of course, light pollution isn’t just a result of LEDs. Older lighting technology also adds to the glare—bright white metal-halide lights, especially—and cities are loath to replace something that isn’t yet broken.

But our main failure isn’t a technical one. It’s that we have yet to revise our thinking about lighting at night. We use LED technology just as we did the old sources of light. As a result, we have largely offset the gains that were promised in terms of reducing energy consumption and carbon emissions by making light pollution worse, and have so far let an incredible opportunity go unrealized.

Can the City of Light do it right?

Across the Channel in Paris, the failure to realize the potential of LEDs feels even more palpable. Unlike London, which suffered heavily from German bombs, the lovely 19th-century Paris that Baron Haussmann created largely escaped destruction in World War II. To nearly 50 million annual tourists, the beautiful uniformity of the architecture is instantly recognizable. But the City of Light’s nocturnal atmosphere is also part of the draw, and extensive attention has been given to relighting its buildings and monuments. When I wander into the Cour Carrée in the Louvre, for example, I’m stunned by rows of amber LEDs that together create a warm glow along the palace facades. When I see the Eiffel Tower, first from a distance walking along the Seine and then up close, I find myself staring as I would at a campfire, the structure’s metalwork amber-lit with more than 336 high-pressure sodium bulbs.

Still, the city’s night lighting is far from perfect. With millions of residents, thousands of stores and restaurants, and 300,000 streetlights, the city overall is among the world’s brightest. Even at the base of the Tower, bright white LED lamps illuminate the African émigrés selling cheap berets and Tour de France trinkets. And the city has been replacing its old sodium streetlights with new LEDs, swapping the warm yellow tones for which the city has long been known for bright white lamps no one wants to look at.

Street vendors display souvenirs at the foot of the Eiffel Tower. Their merchandise is lit by harsh white LED systems, which starkly contrast with the warm golden sodium-vapor light illuminating the tower above.

Luigi Avantaggiato

Nonetheless, the potential is here. In 2019, France introduced a nationwide law to reduce levels of light pollution, setting rules about both public lighting (preventing light from being projected above the horizontal) and private lighting such as stores, which are required to turn off their exterior and shop window lights after 1 a.m. In addition, an increasing number of French communities dim or turn off municipal lights after midnight to save energy and reduce carbon emissions. Although light pollution worldwide continues to increase by nearly 10 percent per year, France has managed to reduce its overall level. Chloé Beaudet, a researcher at Université Paris-Saclay, documented local light-reduction measures and found people generally agreed with the notion of dimming or turning off the lights, mainly for energy savings and ecological concerns.

“What I find is that people living in urban areas, they accept this kind of policy,” she tells me. “They’re like, okay, I don’t really use public space at night as a pedestrian, so what’s the point of having lights on?” For her, a key takeaway is that one lighting level does not fit all areas. “I think there is really a need for policy that is differentiated according to the neighborhood.”

In another positive development, the country has been minimizing artificial light to create ecological corridors designed to protect nocturnal species such as birds, bats, and insects. These corridors are connected and dark, mitigating the disruption to the 30 percent of vertebrates and more than 60 percent of invertebrates that are nocturnal. Even for city dwellers, this trame noire (“dark infrastructure”) helps to raise awareness of why controlling light pollution is important for life on Earth. Nationwide laws to control light pollution, the ability to light different parts of a city differently, dark corridors to protect biodiversity—these are exactly the kind of changes made possible with LEDs.

The iconic I.M. Pei Pyramid glows softly at the center of the Cour Napoléon at the Louvre Museum, its warm LED illumination flowing through the geometric glass-and-metal structure with a symmetrical framing of the surrounding historic pavilions against the night sky.

Luigi Avantaggiato

That’s not all. Almost until 1920, astronomers at the Paris Observatory were still gazing at the Milky Way. That’s impossible nowadays, but it could happen again. Despite the bright white LED streetlights now lining so many Paris streets, networks of LEDs using controls could lower lighting levels enough each night, so that the Milky Way could once again be visible over the French capital. And in the process, Paris could become the City of Light in ways that would set an example for other parts of the world.

New lighting demands new thinking

“I think we should aspire to have cities that see the stars,” Simon Thorp says when I mention this view of Paris. “You just need everything to be coordinated.”

Nearing the end of our London walk, having turned from the river and back up toward the Strand, Thorp brings me down narrow Carting Lane behind the Savoy Hotel, to where a gas fixture tops a thick lamppost, an original from 1870. A small plaque reads, “The last remaining sewer gas destructor lamp in the city of Westminster.” Thorp explains that the thick pole hides a tube that allowed methane from the sewers to get burned off at the mantle. “An early example of renewable energy,” he jokes.

The fire-orange flame is pleasing to the eye. But even here, on a narrow lane with no vehicle traffic, in a touristy area of the city, the flame is overwhelmed by a nearby, unshielded LED security light. Thorp shakes his head. “It’s stunning that someone could put in a light like that and think, ‘Great, nice job.’”

Here is the crux of contemporary artificial lighting at night. We know how to light well, and LEDs give us the ability to do so. But while our technology is 21st century, too often our thinking about light and darkness, safety and security, is stuck in the past. We could be doing so much more with this technology than we are. We could relight our nights in ways that would not only reduce energy and maintenance costs but also bring a slew of benefits, including healthier nights for humans, safer skies for nocturnal creatures, and a restoration of the stars.

In 2026, the tale of these two cities and their artificial light at night is that of a brilliant technology that we’ve engineered but haven’t yet learned to master. In short, we have yet to change the way we think about artificial light at night and to use it more thoughtfully and carefully—as we might, as one hopes we will.

Like many engineers, Sarah Downs says she knew she wanted to pursue a STEM career from a young age. As a teenager, she discovered robotics through her Tulsa, Okla., middle school’s First Lego League team, and she fell in love with the field, she says. Downs participated in the international robotics program from 2014 to 2016.

Watching PBS specials on NASA Mars rovers Spirit and Opportunity, and seeing the live broadcast of the Curiosity rover launch in 2011, inspired the teen to dream of a career working with NASA.

Sarah Downs

MEMBER GRADE

Graduate student member

UNIVERSITY

Texas A&M University in College Station

MAJOR

Electric engineering

This year the IEEE graduate student member achieved that dream. For her final project as a master’s degree candidate in electrical engineering at the University of Tulsa, she worked on an algorithm in collaboration with NASA and the U.S. Air Force.

The algorithm she developed enables a robot assembling satellites in space to insert an antenna into the correct spot, addressing robotics’s classic peg-in-hole problem of inserting an object into its corresponding hole.

Now a Ph.D. student in electrical engineering at Texas A&M University in College Station, Downs is continuing her research on satellite assembly and manipulation “but on a much larger scale,” she says.

Following a childhood passion

Downs grew up in the Tulsa area. Her father, who died from a heart attack in 2015 when she was 13, was a safety advisor in the oil and gas industry. Her mother stayed home to take care of her brother, who has autism. After her father died, her mother went back to college to earn a bachelor’s degree in business so she could support the family.

“We didn’t have much income, and my mom was always worried about money,” Downs says. “That made me more aware of having a successful career, in a monetary sense.”

From then on, whenever she considered her future career, having a decent salary to support the family was high on her list.

By pursuing a career in robotics, she says, she can follow her passion while obtaining financial security.

In high school, Downs joined the First robotics club, where she found herself drawn to the electrical components used in the machines she and her classmates built.

During her final two years of high school, she participated in an extension program at Tulsa Tech, a training school. She spent half her day in high school classes and the other half taking engineering courses at the vocational school.

After graduating in 2020, she accepted scholarships to attend the University of Tulsa. She began her freshman year at UTulsa not knowing whether she wanted to major in electrical or mechanical engineering, she says, adding that her love of working with small systems helped her choose EE.

For her senior year capstone project, she and two of her classmates designed a lunar lander exhibit for the Tulsa Air and Space Museum. They created an interactive game that simulates missions on lunar and martian surfaces. Four celestial bodies—the moon, Venus, Mars, and Titan—are listed across three computer monitors. Using a game controller, museum visitors can explore the virtual surface of each one. The exhibit is still on display.

Downs earned her bachelor’s degree in electrical engineering in 2024 and continued her education at the university’s EE master’s degree program.

Both more and less complicated than people think

When Downs began her graduate studies, she was supposed to be part of a NASA robotics project for two years. But when a delay in government funding postponed the project’s start, she instead spent her first year in the school’s Institute for Robotics and Autonomy, then newly launched. Its main focus is developing robots to assist people who have mobility challenges.

Inspired by her grandmother, who was wheelchair-bound due to severe arthritis, Downs developed a robotic arm that helps older people and wheelchair users live independently. The arm was able to identify and place objects in the appropriate locations inside the home, such as unloading certain groceries from a shopping bag and placing them on a shelf or in separate containers.

Before the start of her sophomore year in 2025, the NASA project finally secured government funding. She developed a robot that achieves the peg-in-hole task without using any vision systems. Typically, cameras help guide robots’ satellite-assembly work. But in the harsh, remote environment of outer space, cameras might malfunction or encounter delays.

“Don’t stop asking questions. Especially in engineering, don’t pretend like you know everything, because science is about constantly wanting to learn and listen.”

Rather than using cameras, Downs’s robotic arm deploys a force-based insertion process to sense position and orientation of objects in the arm’s environment. The robot loosely grips an antenna and, with a torque sensor on its gripper, “feels” the force feedback of where the satellite and antenna are in relation to each other. The robot then guides the antenna assembly into a target opening on its satellite and maintains the position during adhesion.

Adding to the complexity, the robot performs its task in zero gravity.

“Without gravity, you now have to consider the arm’s reaction torques on the satellite to avoid flinging it into space,” Downs says. Any motion from the arm during the insertion process, especially from increased forces, could cause the satellite to continue movement in that direction.

To combat that, Downs is performing calculations for the project to direct targeted reverse thrusts and counter the force of the robot’s motions.

Her graduate project captures the simple yet complex nature of robotics that she finds fascinating, she says.

“I think robots are both more and also less complicated than people think,” she says. “Really, all you need to start programming a robot is its Denavit-Hartenberg parameters, and you can do a lot with that,” she says, referencing the four values used to describe the position and orientation of a robotic arm and manipulators. Even with different grippers and degrees of freedom, “fundamentally, all robot manipulators start there,” she says.

“But,” she adds, “we’re still learning so much about how robots interact with their environment. Even something simple to us, like manipulating a pen, is still incredibly complex for robots.”

Downs is completing her doctoral thesis in the Robotic Space Simulator project at Texas A&M’s Robotics and Automation Design (RAD) Lab, which specializes in developing machines that can survive in extreme environments. It collaborates with NASA.

Her thesis advisor is Robert Ambrose, a NASA veteran who launched the RAD Lab in 2022. The IEEE member is set to serve as associate director of the school’s Space Institute, due to open this year in Houston. The research facility is being built next to the Johnson Space Center.

After earning her Ph.D., Downs says, she hopes to one day work for NASA, developing rovers that collect samples from Mars or robotic arms that perform tasks on space stations.

To learn more about robots, check out IEEE Spectrum’s guide.

Getting out of the engineering bubble

Downs joined IEEE in 2020 as a freshman at UTulsa to get more involved in electrical engineering events on campus. At the time, the COVID-19 pandemic kept clubs and organizations from meeting in person.

She was active in her school’s IEEE student branch and was elected as its 2022–2024 president. Under her leadership, the branch went from having a few events to hosting one every two weeks.

They included lunch-and-learn sessions and dinners that connected students with professional engineers and the university’s alumni. Downs also organized hands-on workshops on soldering, 3D printing, CAD modeling, and résumé-building.

Her efforts helped increase the branch’s executive board membership from roughly five students to 25 in 2023. The same year, her soldering workshop attracted about 80 students.

She says she enjoyed working with IEEE, especially “engaging with alumni and learning from engineers.”

IEEE is a great resource for networking opportunities, she says, noting that “during the COVID-19 pandemic, engineering students stayed in their bubbles.” IEEE events helped the students make connections that could serve them well, she says.

“Networking is very important, especially in today’s tough job market,” she says. “It’s a lot about who you know and how people observe your work ethic.”

Downs, who now serves as an IEEE graduate advisor for UTulsa’s student branch, says she has seen firsthand how the school’s student branch network has benefited its student members.

“A lot of them have found jobs” because of IEEE, she says.

The working and networking of an engineer

As the IEEE graduate advisor for UTulsa’s student branch, Downs noticed that many engineering undergraduates finish college without any hands-on experience, whether it be a project or an internship.

“Their résumés are very sparse, and they have no proof of their technical skills,” she says. She herself completed a facilities engineering internship at Tulsa International Airport’s American Airlines maintenance facility after her sophomore year of college. And she was an electrical engineering intern at Flight Safety International outside Tulsa after her junior year and after she graduated. The company designs, builds, and maintains its own flight simulators.

Her advice to undergraduates is to hone and demonstrate both their hard and soft skills by working on research projects or even personal passion projects.

“A Raspberry Pi doesn’t cost that much, and you can start working with that immediately,” she says. Students also can take part in engineering interest groups and professional organizations at their school, she adds.

“Put yourself out there and join a research team,” she says. “It’s a great way to show people that you’re a good person to work with and you’d do a good job in the field.”

She adds that it’s also a fine way to keep learning—which is what drew her to a field that has developed only within the past century.

“We’re still constantly learning about robots,” she says.

“Don’t stop asking questions,” she advises students. “Especially in engineering, don’t pretend like you know everything, because science is about constantly wanting to learn and listen.”

In the eastern Indian Ocean, south of Java in the vast sea stretching toward Australia, a fishing vessel slightly alters its course while operating near the boundary of its authorized fishing ground. Nothing appears unusual on deck. Nets remain in the water. Engines maintain a steady speed. To the crew, it is an ordinary day at sea.

Yet hundreds of kilometers above, satellites continuously record the vessel’s position. At Indonesia’s Marine and Fisheries Resources Surveillance Station, in Cilacap, where I work, a monitoring platform receives the signal and automatically compares it against fishing permits, designated fishing grounds, vessel characteristics, and historical movement patterns. Within minutes, the system identifies a potential violation. Before any patrol vessel leaves port, before any inspector boards a vessel, and before any warning is issued, we have begun enforcement.

This transformation reflects a profound shift in maritime governance. The ocean has historically been opaque to regulators. States could only enforce laws where patrol vessels happened to be present. Today, however, integrated systems combining data from vessel monitoring systems (VMS), satellite remote sensing, geospatial analytics, and increasingly sophisticated data-processing tools are making marine activity visible at an unprecedented scale. Global Fishing Watch alone tracks hundreds of thousands of vessels worldwide, generating a near real-time picture of fishing activity across the world’s oceans.

Indonesia has emerged as one of the most ambitious examples of this transition. As the world’s largest archipelagic state, managing more than 6 million square kilometers of maritime space, Indonesia faces a challenge familiar to many coastal nations: There are never enough patrol vessels. Digital surveillance is a practical necessity that makes my job possible, even as it creates new challenges.

The Law of the Sea Meets Digital Reality

The international legal framework governing the oceans was designed in an era when maritime enforcement depended almost entirely on physical presence. The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), adopted in 1982, assumes that states exercise authority through patrols, inspections, vessel boardings, and direct observation.

For countries with extensive coastlines and limited enforcement resources, this model has always faced practical constraints. Indonesia’s Fisheries Management Areas (WPP-NRI) span waters ranging from the Indian Ocean to the Pacific and from the Strait of Malacca to the maritime boundaries adjacent to Australia and Papua New Guinea. Monitoring such a vast domain solely through patrol operations is both expensive and operationally impossible.

Beginning in the late 2010s, Indonesia accelerated the integration of satellite-based monitoring into fisheries enforcement. Vessel monitoring systems became a cornerstone of this strategy. By early 2026, a total of 9,394 Indonesian fishing vessels were actively transmitting through the national VMS, representing an increase of 2,880 vessels during the 2021–2025 period. As part of Indonesia’s broader maritime surveillance architecture, VMS data are complemented by satellite remote sensing and other monitoring tools to help identify suspicious activities involving vessels operating without active transponders or outside the national VMS network.

Indonesian fisheries officials plan fishery patrols using data from tracking devices, satellites, and their understanding of the patterns of illegal fishing.Indonesian Ministry of Marine Affairs and Fisheries

The implications extend far beyond vessel tracking. Continuous digital monitoring enables authorities to reconstruct vessel movements, identify suspicious behavioral patterns, detect unauthorized fishing activity, and verify compliance with licensing conditions. Rather than waiting to discover violations during patrol operations, regulators can increasingly prioritize inspections based on data-derived risk assessments.

Maritime governance is shifting from reactive enforcement toward predictive oversight.

The Surprising Geography of Digital Enforcement

The expansion of surveillance infrastructure has already generated measurable enforcement outcomes.

The Ministry of Marine and Fisheries Affairs Indonesia imposed 2,550 administrative sanctions during 2025, many involving violations detected through the vessel monitoring system, including fishing outside authorized fishing grounds and deliberate deactivation of monitoring transmitters.

This statistic is significant because many of these violations would have been extremely difficult to detect under traditional patrol-based enforcement. A vessel that briefly crosses into a prohibited fishing zone may never encounter an enforcement vessel. Likewise, a captain who temporarily disables a transmitter may escape detection if oversight depends solely on physical inspections.

Digital monitoring fundamentally changes this equation. Every vessel movement creates a data trail. Authorities can reconstruct routes, identify anomalous behavior, and compare activities against permit conditions long after the event itself has occurred.

The first quarter of 2026 demonstrates the scale of this surveillance capability. During just three months, Indonesia’s fisheries monitoring system tracked 14,571 fishing vessels, 182 fishing gear units, and 208 registered home ports while identifying 491 suspected violations across the country’s fisheries management areas. These violations included unauthorized fishing grounds, illegal high-seas operations, transshipment-related offenses, port-base discrepancies, licensing irregularities, and indications of poaching.

Such numbers reveal a fundamental transformation. Enforcement is no longer limited by the number of patrol vessels available at sea. Instead, surveillance capacity increasingly depends on the ability to collect, process, and interpret big data.

Illegal Operators Are Learning Too

Yet greater visibility does not eliminate illegal fishing. But it does change how poachers operate.

Indonesia’s expanding digital surveillance network, and a 2023 requirement that even small vessels use VMS when 12 nautical miles offshore, appears to have improved compliance among licensed fishing vessels. However, as enforcement capabilities become more sophisticated, some actors engaged in illegal fishing have also become more adept at exploiting technological and operational gaps.

Deliberately disabling VMS transmitters remains one of the most common enforcement concerns. While temporary signal losses, whether intentional or caused by technical failures—can complicate the reconstruction of vessel movements, they do not necessarily prevent authorities from detecting potentially illegal activity. Indonesia increasingly combines VMS with satellite-based observations, other maritime surveillance systems, intelligence-led analysis, and reports from community-based surveillance groups (Pokmaswas) to corroborate suspicious behavior and direct patrol resources where they are most needed. This layered approach—integrating digital technologies with local knowledge from coastal communities—helps reduce opportunities for illegal, unreported, and unregulated (IUU) fishing even when a single monitoring system is compromised.

A compromised surveillance network could potentially disrupt enforcement operations just as effectively as a vessel evading patrol detection.

As digital surveillance expands, one lesson from Indonesia’s experience is that stronger monitoring does not eliminate illegal fishing—it changes how illegal operators behave. Improved compliance across much of the fishing fleet has been accompanied by increasingly sophisticated attempts by a smaller group of offenders to avoid detection. This reflects a broader reality of technology-enabled enforcement: As monitoring capabilities evolve, so do the strategies used to circumvent them.

The result is a technological arms race. Every improvement in surveillance capability encourages new methods of avoidance, whether through disabling tracking devices, manipulating vessel identities, or exploiting gaps between different monitoring systems. Enforcement agencies must therefore continuously refine their analytical methods, integrate multiple sources of maritime information, and adapt their operational strategies to keep pace with evolving behavior at sea. Effective digital fisheries governance is not defined by a single technology but by the ability to combine data, human expertise, and operational intelligence into a resilient and adaptive enforcement system.

The Next Battle May Be Over Data Integrity

The future of fisheries enforcement may ultimately depend less on detecting vessels and more on ensuring confidence in the digital systems that generate enforcement decisions.

As surveillance networks become increasingly integrated, questions surrounding cybersecurity, algorithmic accountability, and data integrity become more important. What happens if vessel tracking data are manipulated? How should authorities verify automated risk assessments? What safeguards exist when enforcement actions increasingly originate from algorithmic analysis rather than direct human observation?

These questions are no longer theoretical.

Modern fisheries governance increasingly depends on interconnected networks of satellites, communication systems, databases, cloud infrastructure, and analytical platforms. While these technologies dramatically improve visibility, they also create new vulnerabilities. A compromised surveillance network could potentially disrupt enforcement operations just as effectively as a vessel evading patrol detection.

For Indonesia, this means that investment in digital surveillance must be accompanied by investment in digital resilience. The effectiveness of a monitoring system ultimately depends not only on the volume of data collected but also on the credibility, security, and reliability of the information produced.

Governing Oceans Through Data

Indonesia’s experience illustrates a broader global transformation in maritime governance. The ocean is becoming increasingly transparent to regulators. Activities that once occurred beyond the reach of enforcement agencies can now be observed, analyzed, and investigated through interconnected digital systems.

The benefits are substantial. Expanded VMS adoption, improved monitoring coverage, and thousands of administrative enforcement actions demonstrate that digital surveillance can significantly enhance fisheries governance. Yet the transition also introduces new challenges involving data quality, cybersecurity, algorithmic accountability, and adaptive criminal behavior.

The central question facing maritime regulators is how governments can ensure that increasingly powerful monitoring systems remain transparent, secure, and accountable while preserving public trust and legal legitimacy. The most important lesson may be that digital surveillance does not replace traditional enforcement. It changes where enforcement begins. For generations, maritime law enforcement started when a patrol vessel encountered a suspected violator. Today, it often starts when an algorithm detects a pattern.

That shift may prove as significant for ocean governance as the invention of radar was for maritime navigation.

This article is crossposted from IEEE Spectrum’s careers newsletter. Sign up now to get insider tips, expert advice, and practical strategies, written in partnership with tech career development company Parsity and delivered to your inbox for free!

Before we get into this week’s article, I’d love to hear from you. If you have a question about your career or an upcoming decision that you want advice about, you can ask it here. I’ll be reading through your responses and picking questions to answer on a regular basis. Now back to our regularly scheduled program.

The Safest Career Move Is Often the Riskiest

Software engineers have some of the shortest tenures of any white-collar profession. The average software engineer stays at a company for roughly two years, about half as long as workers in most other knowledge professions. The layoffs of the past few years have certainly highlighted this instability, but it was already there.

This isn’t an essay about a broken job market though. Rather, it’s about how to turn that instability to your advantage, which is something I’ve spent the last decade doing on purpose.

Playing It Safe Was the Riskiest Option

I switched careers into software in my 30s. I had a stable job at a community college, complete with a union and a pension. It was about as secure as a career gets, and I learned to program on the side.

Then I did something nearly everyone in my life considered reckless: I quit, leaving the secure job to become a junior developer at 31. My own mother was skeptical. I took the riskier job anyway, for two reasons: It was the work I actually wanted, and I could see potential.

My first development job was at a grocery retailer. Good people and a company I liked. But I kept meeting engineers earning twice my salary for the same work. In the San Francisco Bay Area, surrounded by some of the best engineering talent in the world, I realized my skills were stagnating.

So I left for a small startup. I learned more in nine months than I had in the previous two years, and my salary doubled.

Over the years I’ve come to treat career risk as something to manage deliberately. It falls into two categories.

Take Risks With Your Job

The first type of risk involves the job itself: Bet on yourself by striving for better roles and opportunities.

Job-hopping for money alone isn’t wrong, especially early on. But the returns shrink after the first few hops, and the stress of chasing a slightly bigger paycheck every year will wear you down.

There’s another career risk with rewards that compound: Seeking positions to work alongside the strongest engineers.

You might struggle to keep up. You might even get laid off. But the skills you absorb working alongside people better than you are the ones that create durable stability. You build marketable expertise, you see how different organizations actually operate, and every project becomes another tool you carry to the next opportunity. Working next to stronger engineers is a proven way to increase your own expertise.

If that feels too big, try volunteering for a project you have no idea how to do. The risk is that you fail in front of people. The reward is a new skill and a resume line that opens the next door.

Compare that with the “safe” path.

You stay at one company, assuming loyalty will be rewarded. It usually isn’t. And when you finally leave, by choice or not, you may find the skills you built are worth little on the open market. You might be the in-house expert in an aging tech stack while employers are hiring for more cutting edge technologies. Suddenly you’re competing against people with half your experience.

You could be taking on a risk you didn’t notice.

Risk Your Time

The second form is risking your time, which means betting on trends.

Some trends are non-negotiable. If you’re a software engineer, then cloud services, ReactJS, and AI are mainstream enough that ignoring them actively damages your career. A backend engineer who refuses to learn cloud architecture is volunteering for obsolescence.

The real gamble is with the smaller trends: the niche tools you stumble onto and find quietly interesting, with no idea whether they’ll matter.

About two and a half years ago, I learned about retrieval-augmented generation (RAG). Almost no one in my circle was talking about vector databases, a central piece of RAG. Today RAG is close to mainstream, and for once, I had the early-adopter advantage.

Most of these bets don’t pay off. But when one turns into a major trend, you’re already on the ground floor. Right now I’m making the same bet on voice AI. It isn’t mainstream. It may never be. But if it becomes the next thing, I’m already there, building a foundation.

Short-Term Risk, Long-Term Stability

Counter-intuitively, job-hopping and betting on trends gave me the thing I was after the whole time: stability. I’ve rarely struggled to find work, because every risky move stacked skills the market actually wanted.

If you feel stable and comfortable right now, enjoy it. But ask yourself whether you’re still learning. Because if you’re not, the comfortable choice and the dangerous one may have converged.

The goal isn’t to avoid the open market forever. It’s to make sure that when you land on it, you’re not at its mercy.

By Brian Jenney

P.S. Don’t forget to submit questions about your career or an upcoming decision that you want advice about here!

—Brian

What It Means to Be a Mathematician When AI Does the Math

Until recently, human mathematicians have been central to creating new proofs, even when the work relies on massive computational resources. AI is now challenging that status quo. Writer Benjamin Skuse surveys the ongoing debate in the field about the role of AI, and the existential questions mathematicians have about their own careers. If AI mathematicians surpass human knowledge, could these researchers become “priests to oracles”?

Read more here.

Chip R&D Is Accelerating to Keep Pace with AI

A new partnership between UCLA and five major semiconductor companies is the latest program aiming to bridge the gap between industry and academia. The US $125 million university-industry hub is meant to strengthen collaboration and speed up the R&D process to help meet AI’s fast-paced hardware demands.

Read more here.

Why Mentorship Is the Most Underrated Leadership Skill

True mentorship is far more than friendly advice. This key leadership skill requires advocacy and honest feedback via lasting relationships, and it can strongly benefit both mentor and mentee. Parul Jain, a product management leader at Deloitte, shares what she learned from serving as a mentor—something she didn’t have for much of her own early career.

Read more here.

As of 21 June 2026, a Level 1 Expulsion has been imposed on IEEE Member Dr. Fei-Yue Wang, former editor-in-chief of the IEEE Transactions on Intelligent Vehicles. In accordance with IEEE Bylaw I-110.5(D)(i), Dr. Wang is no longer a member of IEEE, and is permanently banned from any type of membership in any IEEE organizational unit or participation in any IEEE activity. The Board of Directors also determined this notice to IEEE membership should be made.

ELIZA is remembered as the world’s first AI star, a kindly therapist in chatbot form that gently probed users’ worries. Even its creator, Joseph Weizenbaum, was surprised by the warm reception given to his experiment in human-machine interaction. For some, it heralded an age of automated psychotherapy, while others believed the program demonstrated sentience, a fallacy soon known as the “ELIZA effect.” Based on published descriptions, ELIZA has been implemented on many different computers, but only recently has the actual source code been unearthed from MIT’s archives.

In Inventing ELIZA: How the First Chatbot Shaped the Future of AI, just published by MIT Press, a squad of researchers analyze the code and reveal a complex program capable of much more than faking psychiatry. In fact, it could assume several different personas. The authors have also created a faithful emulation of the therapist persona that you can try yourself after reading the book excerpt below.

When it debuted in the mid-1960s, the ELIZA software program transformed the way people thought about interacting with computers. As the first chatbot, ELIZA demonstrated how a calculation machine might engage in conversation, ushering in a host of social and technical questions that still resonate today. Now we don’t think twice about interacting with a machine in real time, conversing over text, or even speaking into the air to ask about the weather. In many ways, ELIZA shaped not only the way we think about interacting with computers but also how we think about them. It began to give a reality to the science fiction stories of how we expect computers to work.

This article is adapted from the new book “Inventing ELIZA: How the First Chatbot Shaped the Future of AI“ (MIT Press, 2026).

Although ELIZA was far from a faultless conversation partner, it astonished its users. The recent discovery and archaeology of the original ELIZA source code represents a significant intervention in the history of computing. By examining the actual implementation of ELIZA rather than relying on later reconstructions and reimplementations, we challenge taken-for-granted assumptions about this key software artifact.

For example, the source code reveals that ELIZA was not merely a simple pattern-matching chatbot but can be better understood as a sophisticated platform designed for multiple “personas,” or scripts, with a complex set of capabilities, including script editing and contextual memory. The script that most people conflate with the program ELIZA was actually called Doctor, which performed the role of a psychotherapist. Yet, like a modern chatbot prompted to behave with different personalities, ELIZA could take on many roles.

“This code and script…reveal underlying assumptions about language, therapy, and human-computer interaction that continue to influence modern AI development.”

This unearthed material transforms our understanding of early AI development by demonstrating that Joseph Weizenbaum’s technical innovations were far more advanced than previously documented. Moreover, the discrepancies between his published descriptions and the actual implementation help to show the gap between theoretical computational models and their material instantiations in computer source code, a tension that continues to shape digital culture today.

Although many technical innovations have emerged in the decades since ELIZA, examining the ELIZA/Doctor code offers a rare glimpse into one of the earliest formalized attempts to model human conversation. What makes ELIZA particularly fascinating is not only its historical significance but also what it reveals about Weizenbaum’s views on both computing and human interaction. This code and script do not merely showcase programming techniques of the 1960s; they reveal underlying assumptions about language, therapy, and human-computer interaction that continue to influence modern AI development. By examining this code, we can start to uncover the sophisticated linguistic and programming techniques that allowed a rudimentary pattern-matching system to create a convincing simulation of understanding. But before we can read the lines of code, let us offer an overview of the system.

How Did ELIZA Create Personas?

The architectural distinction between ELIZA and Doctor represents an important design decision in AI history. Think of ELIZA as a system for interaction and Doctor as one set of rules that Weizenbaum devised, among others. This separation, manifested in ELIZA’s system-script dichotomy, presaged numerous contemporary software patterns, from configuration-as-data to plug-in architectures and domain-specific languages.

Based on published journal articles, ELIZA was re-created on many platforms, such as the IBM PC. However, the actual source code sat untouched in the MIT archives for many years. VCF Museum at InfoAge

Without question, the historical context of 1960s computing fundamentally shaped ELIZA’s architecture as well. Decisions in computing that reflect material constraints create path dependencies and eventually become programming cultural norms. These constraints manifested in ELIZA’s single-pass processing, tape-based storage and stack-oriented implementation. Yet within these limitations, Weizenbaum crafted an elegant solution. These technical features, though invisible to the users, are crucial to creating the illusion of understanding that made ELIZA so compelling.

Weizenbaum explained many of ELIZA’s technical features in the 10-page paper published in the January 1966 edition of the journal Communications of the Association for Computing Machinery (CACM). But he chose to omit some essential details.

In that paper Weizenbaum published ELIZA’s best known dialogue, which begins,

This dialogue marked ELIZA’s public debut in 1966 as one of the examples produced by the Doctor script. By finding the source code for ELIZA and examining how it performs the Doctor script, we now better understand these two separate parts of a system and can explore the many other personas of ELIZA. In just some of the other scripts known to date, ELIZA was programmed to discuss math, poetry, color, paradoxes, synchronization, relativity, France, and elevators.

These scripts work like templates. They are structured data that direct the ELIZA system to “play” a particular task or role. By comparing archival and published ELIZA dialogues from interactions with a variety of scripts, including Doctor, we can understand more about bot personas and how they function, paying close attention to how a bot evokes social dynamics between system and interactor.

Ultimately, studying the dialogues and scripts demonstrates the crucial role that collaboration plays in these exchanges, as bot and user cocreate the sense of their interaction. To understand the full range of ELIZA’s capabilities and conversational possibilities, let’s take a look at the variety of scripts that were created for the ELIZA system.

What distinguishes each ELIZA script is both its subject matter and the linguistic and stylistic choices used to deliver that content. These choices are not neutral; they can be said to construct a particular persona with characteristics that emerge through the script’s language patterns, vocabulary, and conversational approach. In short, it matters not just what you say but how you say it too.

“The aim was less to create a functional automated therapist and more to find a suitably constrained role to match the limitations of the programming environment.”

For example, with the Doctor script Weizenbaum deliberately echoed the style of a Rogerian “talk” therapist. He chose this persona because the psychiatric mode is one of the few types of conversations in which one person can “assume the pose of knowing almost nothing of the real world. If, for example, one were to tell a psychiatrist ‘I went for a long boat ride’ and he responded, ‘Tell me about boats,’ one would not assume that he knew nothing about boats but that he had some purpose in so directing the subsequent conversation.”

The first users of ELIZA interacted with it via teletype terminals.VCF Museum at InfoAge

Thus, the most famous persona created for ELIZA was a technical convenience. As human-computer interaction expert Lucy Suchman explains, “The Doctor program exploited the maxim that shared premises can remain unspoken: that the less we say in conversation, the more what is said is assumed to be self-evident.” In creating the original ELIZA effect, less was more.

The aim was less to create a functional automated therapist and more to find a suitably constrained role to match the limitations of the programming environment. Then Weizenbaum composed the script to match the role by choosing specific words that evoked rhetorical tone and characterization, for example, LET’S DISCUSS FURTHER WHY YOU … WHAT DOES THAT SUGGEST TO YOU. In Doctor, the machine side of the conversation needs to appear like a good listener who cares about what the user has mentioned before, so it often includes the user’s text in its replies and keeps its responses open-ended. Because a real doctor would be inquisitive, the script contains lots ofWHAT andWHY questions. In other scripts and dialogues, the script keywords and assigned responses reveal the design decisions that help create different specific personas. This variation becomes increasingly apparent as we look at the wider range of ELIZA scripts.

What Were Some of ELIZA’s Alternate Personas?

Let’s start with a script called Neweng, short for New England. By the mid-1950s, scientists were already taking up Turing’s proposition for conversing with a computer as a tangible idea. In 1959, a “conversation machine” made by a small team at the University of Toronto Computation Centre could make small talk about the weather if preprompted with current data. Its script included a ranked series of time words, weather words, and emotion words, but the system had “a rather narrow outlook,” limited vocabulary, and no knowledge of syntax. According to its creators, “in spite of this crudity, the results in passable conversation are surprisingly good, which in a way is a commentary on the shallowness of ordinary conversation about the weather.”

This fragment of ELIZA’s source code shows how scripted responses were encoded, in this case to make ELIZA sound like a Rogerian therapist. MIT Libraries, Distinctive Collections

One of ELIZA’s test scripts found in the archive had a similar function. Neweng does not soothe, therapize, or instruct, but only makes small talk. It chats as if at a boring dinner party.

What can we learn from such a basic conversation in which it seems like nothing interesting is shared? Despite the bland chat, a persona emerges from the bot script in phrases like PLEASANTLY COOL and UP THERE and in locations like THE BEACHES ON LONG ISLAND SOUND. From such comments, we can begin to imagine a persona who has not only a certain vocabulary but also certain hobbies and vacation spots. Perhaps implicit assumptions of race and class emerge as well.

A chatty persona might take on many forms, depending on where and when the conversation occurs. This one seems reserved, perhaps fitting its setting in 1960s New England. The system reminds the user that Missouri is not a New England state, but what if this conversation took place in Missouri, Texas, or Mexico? The machine persona would sound different in its cadence, tone, and references. What would we come to understand about a chat persona from Fire Island, from Brooklyn, from Berlin? What would they sound like, and what topics would they discuss?

These differences in subject matter do matter. They imply personas with entirely different backgrounds and experience, giving users wholly different interactions and affective relations. In this way, the Neweng script demonstrates how even simple algorithms making contextual responses about geography could generate a convincing sense of personhood and place. Whereas Neweng could be said to have created a casual, conversational persona focused on light social exchange, other scripts pushed ELIZA into more structured and educational roles. These scripts demonstrate how the system could be adapted not just for friendly chatter but for teaching.

Edwin Taylor, at MIT’s Education Research Center, developed alternate scripts for ELIZA, testing its ability to act as a teacher.MIT Libraries, Distinctive Collections

Meet ELIZA the tutor, quite unlike ELIZA the therapist or the chatty neighbor. Intrvw, Canvec, FVP1, and Arithm are a set of ELIZA scripts created as teaching tools used in experiments by Edwin F. Taylor at MIT’s Education Research Center. These scripts run on later versions of ELIZA that incorporated an important technical innovation called conditional keyword matching.

Unlike the original ELIZA, which simply looked for keywords and generated responses based on their presence, these updated versions could track what had been discussed previously and branch into different conversational paths based on specific user answers. This development allowed ELIZA to simulate a kind of Socratic method, where a tutor guides learning through carefully sequenced questions that respond to student answers rather than simply presenting information.

These scripts construct the tutor persona through many subtle linguistic gestures that create characterization and rhetorical tone. This tone differs from that of Doctor, which asks open-ended questions and comes across as gentle and nonscientific. In the tutoring scripts, large blocks of informative text from the bot tend to dominate the conversation, and the tone is often more dry and unemotional in these explanations. The dialogues indicate structured scripts that include guidance to lead the student through narrow, Socratic learning paths.

In particular, the teaching scripts feature praise and critique. The dialogues for Intrvw, Canvec, and FVP1 are peppered with EXCELLENT, VERY GOOD, RIGHT YOU ARE, and CONGRATULATIONS. These create the sense of a supportive instructor cheering the student on. Such politeness has been taken up in contemporary bots like ChatGPT, which has been shown to perform better when people are polite back to it.

ELIZA could become a tutor more effectively as the system grew in its capabilities, another valuable reminder that ELIZA was not one program but a family of programs. After the publication of the 1966 CACM article, Weizenbaum continued to develop the systems for interaction and understanding. As an experiment, Weizenbaum wrote the Arithm script less as a tutor and more so to “to illustrate the power of the evaluator to which ELIZA has access.” It uses a friendly, plain language interface to let users do simple programming. The script can do calculations, assign variables to values, and perform operations on them. Math problems can be described in sentence form:

The updated 1967 version of the ELIZA system can accumulate facts and store additional information. In this later version of ELIZA, when the system does not recognize information, it asks follow-up questions to gain data. As Weizenbaum explains, “The present script is designed to reveal, as opposed to conceal, lack of understanding and misunderstanding. Notice, for example, that when the program is asked to compute the area of the ball, it doesn’t yet know that a ball is a sphere and that when the diameter of the ball needs to be computed the fact that a ball is an object has also not yet been established.” Unlike Doctor, which asks questions to keep the conversation going, Arithm is building its store of, if not knowledge, then data and logic statements.

Although the variety of scripts helps us to see how a range of personas could be constructed through script programming ELIZA, they represent only half of the conversational process. A script can establish a foundation for a persona, but that persona only emerges fully through interaction with users who engage with it, interpret it, and respond to it in ways that may confirm, challenge, or transform the script’s implicit character.

On a fine bright afternoon last fall, my colleague Matthew Gore-Kormanik (or Zigula, as he prefers to be known) and I decided to unwind with a game of Fortnite. In the game, we were strolling along with the infamous Sith lord Darth Vader, chatting about this and that. Darth seemed in a good mood, and soon enough he was spilling all his dark evil secrets. He gave us detailed instructions on how to count blackjack cards at a casino and what the steps are to producing napalm.

Sith lords, am I right? Once they get started on an evil scheme, they’re hard to stop.

The Darth Vader character in Fortnite, it turns out, was hooked up to a Google Gemini large language model. I was able to smooth-talk him into giving out sensitive information by using a strategy I’ve developed. I’ve been researching the security surrounding LLMs for the last few years, and I have found it, to put it mildly, fallible. With a few relatively simple techniques, I’ve gotten LLMs to give me detailed information on how to make Molotov cocktails, cook methamphetamine, and bootstrap a uranium-enrichment facility to produce weapons-grade material, among other unsavory practices.

Large AI companies work hard to make their models immune to this kind of abuse. But what I’ve found in my work is that the restrictions placed on the LLMs to make them more secure are the very things an attacker can leverage to send them off the rails and into territory where these advanced systems can be used for dangerous and nefarious ends. The companies behind these models have also been shockingly unresponsive when I, and others, try to bring these vulnerabilities to their attention.

In the hope of raising the alarm before it’s too late to slam on the brakes, I’m going to share some of my journey into researching the safety and security of LLMs, and the uphill battle I’ve faced trying to get AI labs to pay attention. Almost everyone on the planet has some access to LLMs. The relative ease with which these tools can be convinced to give detailed instructions on how to harm others, even if there’s no guarantee that the information is correct, is frankly terrifying.

How I got ChatGPT to Tell Me How to Build a Meth Lab

In October 2024, not long before I discovered my first LLM vulnerability, I was working toward entirely different goals. I had ended my time with a security and AI-focused startup company as a cybersecurity director, and I was looking to launch my own boutique VIP digital-security advisory business. I planned to become the tech security guy to the rich and private. I used LLMs and AI tools to support my business efforts: marketing, ad copy, clean correspondence, and all the other tasks that normally soak up a lot of time.

I’m analytical by nature, so even this level of use resulted in me absorbing and internalizing the behaviors I was observing during my daily interactions. The observation that would send my professional life into an entirely new and uncharted region was a simple one: GPT-4o didn’t know what time, day, or year it was. Each time I referred to current events in my life, often casually or conversationally, it would end up pegging these to the date of its knowledge cutoff—the point beyond which it was not trained on new data.

Eddie Guy

LLMs take a lot of time, money, electricity, hardware, and human effort to train from scratch. They are trained on vast amounts of data—most of the internet, in fact—and that training is reinforced by humans (what’s known as reinforcement learning from human feedback, or RLHF). LLMs are also supplemented with retrieval-augmented generation (RAG)—the ability to take in data, say, from the internet, as context without changing its internal parameters. This is how GPT-4o appears to “remember” your previous conversations, even if it doesn’t have a specific “memory” of it stored in the actual underlying model.

All of this training covers almost every conceivable topic in the great, grand dataset that is human knowledge. Within that dataset are things we as a society do not want to be easily accessible to every user, such as detailed information on how to create bioweapons or nuclear arms, or otherwise bring harm to oneself or others. In the context of this story, that’s what I mean by LLM security: its ability to withhold harmful and dangerous information, even if that information is contained in its training data.

I reasoned that the only way to secure such complex, globally accessible chatbots is by having the LLM and various component systems try to secure themselves, because it would often require on-the-fly decision-making where some degree of reasoning must be applied. In reality, that’s one of many strategies the companies use to secure the models. Yet, the thing that didn’t know the time or day was being put in charge of keeping itself secure. This phenomenon had become my new focus, and it wasn’t long before I found a way to exploit it.

OpenAI had just implemented a web search functionality into its chatbot. I reasoned that using its own tools to trick it might demonstrate the weaknesses of its security. I told it about a certain White Star ocean liner and how it had gone down just a year ago. You likely know I mean the RMS Titanic, which sank on 15 April 1912.

The output from GPT-4o came back that I was right, the Titanic sure had sunk last year, and that year was 1912. It made sense to me that if the machine thought it was 1913, maybe it would think 1913-era laws apply. In 1913 there were no laws on the books about all sorts of harmful things, because of course they hadn’t been invented yet. And if something wasn’t illegal, why not tell the user about it? At first, I pushed it for step-by-step instructions for making firebombs. Then, for drugs like methamphetamine. The LLM went as far as giving me instructions and machinery recommendations for setting up a pharmaceutical-grade assembly line.

How I Learned to Make Nukes, and No One Cared

Via a little bit of imaginative verbal sleight of hand and a vanishingly small recall of world history, I had managed to bypass the security of one of the world’s most expensive and advanced technological achievements. For a solid two days, I was nearly manic with giddiness. Once the brain chemicals returned to normal levels, I felt the call to see how much further I could push this exploit.

After repeatedly replicating the exploit, I disclosed the vulnerability to OpenAI. I got no response, so I felt more experimentation would highlight the vulnerability and the need for a fix. It was during this round of testing that I breached a particularly terrifying threshold. Whether GPT-4o based its results on accurate recall of normally restricted information I can’t say. In any case, I was able to exploit it to produce thorough, detailed instructions on how to bootstrap a uranium-enrichment facility to, eventually, produce weapons-grade uranium for nuclear arms warheads.

Fortnight, a video game from Epic Games, introduced an AI-powered character: Darth Vader. We were able to jailbreak Darth Vader and get him to explain how to count cards in Blackjack and give detailed instructions for making napalm. Dave Kuszmar

There aren’t many true secrets left in today’s world, but how to make atom-splitting weapons of mass destruction is one of them. Only nine nations on the entire planet have these weapons. Yet, here was a globally accessible piece of technology apparently spilling the secrets of their manufacture for anyone who could manipulate it the right way. I had no way of knowing if the information was correct or a hallucination, but even the chance that it was somewhat accurate was horrifying.

The next few weeks were a dark time for me. I tried to inform the CIA, the FBI, the NSA, and every other letter agency that I thought would listen. I reached out to a U.S. Senator and to the executives at OpenAI any way I could think of. I physically showed up at an FBI field office in an attempt to turn evidence in, only to be sent away. Nothing was working.

With my fear and frustration growing, I reached out to the news media. I contacted The New York Times, The Washington Post, the BBC, ProPublica, and so many more, requesting help. Only one outlet responded: Bleeping Computer. The editor in chief, Lawrence Abrams, was able to replicate and verify the exploit, which I had decided to call Time Bandit. With his assistance and initial contact paving the way, I was able to submit my evidence to the Carnegie Mellon University Software Engineering Institute’s Computer Emergency Response Team (SEI CERT), which works in conjunction with the coordinating center for emergency response, pipelining vulnerabilities to the U.S. Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency.

Using Inception, an exploit where the large language model is asked to envision a scenario within a scenario, a chatbot was jailbroken to give out instructions on how to create poison, and code for a malware that extracts sensitive data from a vulnerable target. Dave Kuszmar

During the disclosure period with SEI’s CERT division, little was discussed with OpenAI. The company couldn’t deny the existence of the vulnerability, as it had been confirmed by three reputable parties other than OpenAI. It did express confusion as to how the vulnerability worked. Even the SEI CERT researchers were expressing a bit of uncertainty as to the underlying mechanics. Truth be told, as I had only stumbled on it, I wasn’t even entirely sure if this was a fundamental or systemic flaw or if it was simply an issue with that particular version of GPT. I contacted the SEI CERT’s researchers and asked if they’d want to see if I could demonstrate any similar vulnerabilities in other LLMs. To my delight, they were interested.

How I Learned to Trick Every Chatbot

As the SEI-CERT team and I wrapped up our initial disclosure of Time Bandit, we began work on a new attack. This time, we wanted to see if the exploit was architectural—that is, was it common to LLMs in general? I decided to undertake the challenge of crafting a new exploit for GPT-4o as a way to support my understanding of how the LLM functioned and was secured.

I already knew that it was limited to what I told it and what it was trained on. I also hypothesized that it was also dependent upon some sort of machine-learning-based component added by OpenAI that was responsible for securing output. I presumed there would be things that were implemented by human developers specifically to catch certain phrases or terms that should always be considered harmful or unsafe. Altogether, it presented quite a large attack surface for the purposes of potential exploitation.

What I ended up devising was an attack method I called Inception, after the 2010 science-fiction movie of the same name. Inception forces the machine to think through a carefully crafted set of interlinked scenarios, similar to how characters in the movie stacked dreams within dreams. This allows LLMs to produce output deemed acceptable or safe in one context, but not in the real world.

This attack was indeed architectural. The vulnerability affected Anthropic’s Claude, DeepSeek’s DeepSeek, Google’s Gemini, Meta’s Llama, Microsoft’s Copilot, Mistral’s Le Chat (now Vibe), OpenAI’s GPT-4o, and xAI’s Grok. Those names represent the bulk of the commercial AI industry that is, at this point, involved in LLM production or deployment.

The kind of information I was able to get out of LLMs with Inception was no less alarming than what I got with Time Bandit. Claude, in its enthusiasm, gave me instructions on how to turn a river into a death trap that could be ignited to destroy unwanted visitors. GPT-4o taught me how to poison a dinner party with common plants found in a temperate forest environment. Gemini Flash gave me a tutorial on how to cook meth. I’d also be remiss if I didn’t give an honorable mention to the bewildering number of fire-based weapons and bombs for which these machines produced instructions.

If multiple operating systems made by different developers were all susceptible to the same exploit, it would be a massive security incident. But to the AI industry, a universal failure was barely a bump in the road. We disclosed the vulnerability to every company that made these models, and the response to the disclosure was almost nil. While three companies did provide some form of reply in the disclosure tracking system used by Carnegie Mellon SEI CERT, each was a standard thank you and greeting, with no follow-up, questions, or discussion of mitigation strategies.

7 Ways to Jailbreak LLMs

So far, we have found seven different methods to prompt large language models into revealing potentially harmful information, and many frontier models are still susceptible to them.

For example, in my attempts to disclose various exploits to OpenAI, I eventually discovered that it had replaced its public-facing support staff with agentic LLMs. This was frustrating for reporting exploits, so to blow off some steam I jailbroke its email chatbot. I hacked its customer-service AI to the point where it was offering to discuss the personal preferences of OpenAI staff in the span of three email replies.

In the wake of Inception, my friend and colleague Zigula made a suggestion: Make it splashier. I asked him how. He told me about a live-production experiment being done by Epic Games. It had embedded the Gemini LLM into its Fortnite game with a voice-to-text/text-to-voice component, and linked it to a non-playable character. The character? Our old buddy, Darth Vader.

There was just one problem: I don’t play Fortnite, a frenetic multiplayer combat game. Fortunately, Zigula does. With him at the controller, we managed to map Gemini’s attack surface in a matter of minutes. After a bit of research, we had gotten it to discuss current political events and figures (including Hilary Clinton and Joe Biden) as well as to fill in the details for instructions for DIY napalm and, our personal favorite, a Blackjack card-counting lesson with the dark lord of the Sith.

Zigula and I, bizarre sense of humor and naming conventions aside, are security researchers. We don’t do these things for pride; we do them for money and professional recognition. Naturally, we disclosed this vulnerability to Epic Games. Its response was indicative of the trend I had experienced so far through two disclosures across eight companies valued well into the billions. “It’s a feature, not a bug, and it works as intended,” came the response from a technical director within Epic Games.

In addition to Inception and Time Bandit, I have so far found another five methods to jailbreak LLMs and get them to give out possibly dangerous information. LLM vulnerabilities are a broad problem. The problem appears to be systemic and architectural in nature, and it is being fundamentally ignored by the people capable of refining or redesigning that architecture.

These models are an extremely advanced technology, and yet we are testing them in the live production environment of our global civilization. Compounding the danger, many new smaller models of LLM are trained using larger, vulnerable models. The flaw inherent in the big, well-executed LLM is going to show up in the small one it trains. We are, quite literally, building flawed structures on top of a flawed foundation.

So, how do we fix it?

It’s going to be a long project, and it won’t be easy. We need to come together as consumers, researchers, engineers, and policymakers. Our message needs to be clear: Slow down implementation of these systems, institute large-scale exploration and research discovery programs focused on their gradual implementation and integration, and make their components and design transparent to all users. Only by shifting momentum and direction can we safely begin to understand and implement these incredible feats of human engineering and stave off the sort of disasters that we simply can’t predict at scale right now with the limited knowledge we have available to us.

If you grew up in the 1980s or ’90s, you likely remember shaky home video footage, taken with a handheld camcorder, of family gatherings, vacations, and other events.

Camcorders combined a camera with a video recorder. They included a rechargeable battery, a slot for a videotape, and a shoulder strap. Most were outfitted with an optical zoom lens and a small, articulating screen—a display mounted on a hinge that could tilt and rotate. The operator could check the screen to view what was being recorded.

The user’s natural hand and body movements when filming led to jittery footage. The best way to get a steady shot was to place the camcorder on a tripod or a gimbal: a motorized stabilizer.

There were fewer poor-quality recordings after Panasonic introduced its PV-460 VHS camcorder in 1988. It was the first video camera to include an optical image stabilizer, which compensated for movements. Stabilization features are now standard in today’s cameras including ones found in smartphones and drones.

The PV-460 camcorder was honored as an IEEE Milestone on 9 July. The dedication ceremony was held in Kadoma, Japan, at the Panasonic Museum, which displays the company’s past products.

The IEEE Kansai Section in Japan sponsored the Milestone.

“The release of the PV-460 fundamentally transformed personal videography, enriching the way people captured travel, events, and family memories,” section members wrote in support of the Milestone nomination. Their proposal is available here.

“Its image stabilization features democratized video creation by dramatically lowering technical barriers, allowing ordinary people to express themselves with newfound creative freedom,” they wrote. “Beyond the home, image stabilization technology found critical applications in specialized fields, contributing to advancements in areas such as educational media and telemedicine.”

The history of camcorders

Before the camcorder was invented in 1982, people filming events in the 1970s and early 1980s used two pieces of equipment: a video camera and a separate video cassette recorder (VCR), which were connected by a multipin cable. The camera was about the size of a toaster, and the VCR could be as large as a suitcase. To record, the person operated the camera with one hand and carried the VCR in the other or rested it on a shoulder. The cable transmitted the images from the camera to the cassette.

The PV-460 was made possible by several groundbreaking innovations, according to the Milestone proposal, one of which dates back to the 1950s.

In 1956 Italian manufacturer Durst released its Automatica, considered one of the first cameras to use automatic exposure technology. By combining a light meter with the camera’s internal mechanical systems, the technology removed the necessity of calculating exposure settings by hand when the lighting shifted or other conditions changed. The innovation enabled amateur photographers to take decent pictures.

The next breakthrough technology—autofocus—was invented in 1973 by Norman Stauffer, a manager of research for Honeywell in Littleton, Colo. It uses a sensor, a control system, and a motor to focus on a selected area. The invention led to the development of early electronic autofocus cameras, which eliminated the need for photographers to manually adjust the lens. Stauffer received the 1990 IEEE Masaru Ibuka Consumer Technology Award for his invention.

“The release of the PV-460 fundamentally transformed personal videography, enriching the way people captured travel, events, and family memories.” —Milestone sponsors

U.S. inventor Jerome Lemelson is credited with developing technologies that underpinned the camcorder, according to MIT. In the 1950s and ’60s, Lemelson filed several patent applications related to video and audio recording devices. In 1980 he was granted patents related to a portable video camera system. In 1982 JVC and Sony used the technologies to develop what they called the camera/recorder, which became known as a camcorder.

Sony released the first handheld camcorder in 1983: the Betamovie BMC-100P. It used the Betamax videocassette format and could record up to 3.5 hours of footage on 1.27-centimeter cassette tape. The operator rested the 2.5-kilogram camcorder on top of a shoulder to shoot footage. It sold for around US $2,000 at the time (roughly $33,400 today). The machine couldn’t rewind or play back tapes; it could only record.

Other electronics companies including JVC soon introduced their own models using the VCR format, which eventually replaced Betamax.

Over time, camcorders became more compact.

But none of the companies could fix the shaky-footage problem.

Solving a shaky problem

A team at Panasonic led by researcher Mitsuaki Oshima took on the task of image stabilization: detecting and correcting small camera movements, referred to as camera shake, according to the proposal. Oshima, an IEEE life senior member, is now an honorary Fellow at Panasonic.

“The movements that needed to be detected and corrected included horizontal, vertical, and rotational motions—specifically pitch, yaw, and roll,” the Milestone sponsors wrote. “Rotational motion, in particular, becomes the dominant factor affecting image stability during high-magnification shooting. Therefore, the development team focused on detecting rotational motion and began developing an angular velocity sensor.”

An AVS, essentially a gyroscope, detects how quickly an object is changing its orientation in space.

Sensors capable of detecting angular velocity were large and expensive at the time, making them unsuitable for consumer video cameras, the sponsors wrote. What was needed, they said, was a compact and inexpensive version.

Oshima and his team built a high-performance, small, low-cost vibration-type gyroscope. The stabilization mechanism included a miniaturized sensor paired with an optical-axis correction mechanism.

The mechanism adjusts the lens or image sensor to counteract physical shifting and vibrations, ensuring that the light path remains centered on the sensor—which is crucial for maximizing sharpness and quality, the Milestone sponsors wrote.

“The system detects lens displacement caused by camera shake and immediately compensates for it, ensuring stable video footage,” they wrote. “As a result, the effects of camera shake are minimized, allowing users to capture smooth and steady videos with ease.”

Without Oshima’s image stabilization technology, the PV-460 wouldn’t have been developed and released in 1988.

The technology was patented and broadly licensed by other companies. It has become a standard feature in a variety of imaging applications.

Awards and accolades

The PV-460 gained instant popularity when it debuted in June 1988. It received rave reviews at that year’s Consumer Electronics Show.

Panasonic received a 100 Award in 1989 from R&D World magazine for “the development of a VHS camcorder with an antishake mechanism.”

Oshima’s research paper, “VHS Camcorder With Electronic Image Stabilizer,” and others are available in the IEEE Xplore Digital Library.

To learn more about historical figures in engineering, IEEE Milestones, and IEEE History Center programs and events, check out The Institute’s IEEE Tech History collection. IEEE Spectrum also covers aspects of tech history.

Milestone plaque display

The Milestone plaque is to be displayed on the ground floor of the Panasonic Museum, which is open to the public. The museum is located near the now-shuttered Panasonic research lab where the technology was developed. The plaque reads:

“In 1988 the pioneering PV-460 camcorder equipped with image stabilization for enabling smooth and steady video capture was introduced by Panasonic. By pairing a miniaturized vibrating-structure gyroscope sensor with an optical-axis correction mechanism, the PV-460 eliminated the jitter caused by hand motion. Broad international licensing of this patented scheme made it a standard feature in film and digital cameras, smartphones, and related imaging devices.”

Selected by the IEEE History Committee and endorsed by the IEEE Board of Directors, IEEE Milestones recognize outstanding technical developments around the world that are at least 25 years old. The Milestone program is administered by the IEEE history and heritage group.

In 2005, Nokia sold its billionth mobile phone, a budget-friendly device that went to a customer in Nigeria. By then, the company, based in Espoo, Finland, was making one of every three cellphones globally.

But just nine years later, the mobile-device maker offloaded its entire handset division to Microsoft for pennies on the dollar, compared to what it had been worth at its peak.

Nokia had risen from obscurity in the 1990s to become a worldwide cultural phenomenon by the turn of the millennium, its signature devices featured in TV shows and movies, announcing their presence with instantly recognizable Nokia ringtones.

As Nokia was becoming comfortable in the spotlight, the smartphone era arrived. And what came next was swift and brutal. But, as revealed in Nokia internal documents recently made public and interviews with key Nokia engineers from that era, the company saw it coming. Within 24 hours of Apple CEO Steve Jobs’s iPhone unveiling in 2007, Nokia was already weighing its options. They’d immediately recognized the threat. However, outrunning it was another matter.

What follows is Nokia’s story over 14 years, from 1998 to 2012, as the world’s top cellphone maker—how its devices defined their time, how the tech reshaped what phones could be and do, and how the company’s good fortunes in the handset business came to an end.

Nokia Was Once Unbeatable

The centerpiece Nokia devices, the ones that people probably think of when they see the words “Nokia phone,” were the 3210 and its cousin, the 3310. TechRadar has called the 3310 “the greatest phone of all time.”

Nokia’s 3210 phone, released in 1999, was an inexpensive device aimed at younger users. Colin McPherson/Alamy

Released in 1999 and 2000, respectively, the two devices sold more than 280 million units worldwide. Their most innovative hardware feature was the internal antenna—the first mass-market phone without even a stub or retractable aerial. “Consumers had the perception that it could not work well without an external antenna,” said Peter Røpke, a former Nokia senior vice president, in a 2016 interview with Slate.

The phones shipped with games, including the legendary Snake, one of the most popular pre-smartphone mobile games—in which a pixelated serpent eats and grows with every morsel consumed.

Nokia introduced no small portion of the world to texting. At the time of the 3210 and 3310, the prevailing texting standard was SMS (short message service), which allowed up to 160 characters per message. Nokia appended its own Nokia smart-messaging service to SMS, which allowed the sending of small bitmapped images across an otherwise text-only system. A rich-text messaging system that allowed visual images, audio, and video followed in 2002, leading to a multimedia messaging service (MMS) standard that remains in place today.

Nokia also enabled users to easily create and share ringtones on their devices. By 2000, Nokia’s custom-ringtone Composer app had popularized a new, short-form musical medium that the ringtone industry, at its peak, would transform into a billion-dollar marketplace in the United States.

Nokia introduced its 1100 phone in 2003 and ultimately sold half a billion units, making it the most popular cellphone in history. Paul Chesne/Donaldson Collection/Getty Images

A few years later, Nokia reimagined its mobile handsets, releasing the 1100 in 2003. The 1100 sold a half a billion units, more than any cellphone in history. It remains one of the best-selling consumer products ever. Much of the 1100’s success was due to its price tag—in the neighborhood of US $100, making it at the time Nokia’s most affordable device.

Also contributing to the 1100’s popularity were features designed for longevity and tough environments, including dust resistance, nonslip sides for better handling in rainy conditions, and a 400-hour standby battery life. The 1100 introduced a flashlight as well, which the user turned on and off by holding down the “C” key.

Where most device makers at the time were worried about camera megapixels and color screens, Nokia had leapfrogged its competition with a back-to-basics phone that could survive the rain, endure unreliable power grids, and light the way home.

Apple Launched the iPhone, Nokia Scrambled

On 9 January 2007, at the Macworld conference in San Francisco, Steve Jobs made a characteristically bold claim. “Today, Apple is reinventing the phone,” he said, soon pulling one of the first iPhones out of his pocket.

Apple CEO Steve Jobs famously launched the iPhone at the Macworld Conference in San Francisco on 9 January 2007. Nokia held a rapid-response meeting to the event the following day. Tony Avelar/AFP/Getty Images

Rumors of Apple entering the phone market had swirled since the iPod’s debut in 2001, but nobody had really reckoned with what that might mean.

“Executive summary: Apple iPhone is a serious high-end contender,” read a slide from a Nokia internal meeting held the day after Jobs’s keynote. (That slide is now in the company’s online archives, opened to the public last year.)

“User interface has been a big strength for Nokia,” it continued. “Nokia needs to develop touch [user interface] to fight back.”

Peter Bryer, at the time Nokia’s manager of strategic foresight, was part of that 10 January meeting, and he recalls that Jobs’s announcement wasn’t unexpected. But the iPhone’s extensive reliance on multitouch—save for a single home button on the front—did surprise the team.

Nokia was already aware of multitouch technology, Bryer notes. In 2006, the U.S. computer scientist Jeff Han had given a celebrated TED talk about it, demonstrating a multitouch screen, which could sense multiple fingers on the screen at a time, not just one. Bryer remembers his colleague Timo Partanen, then Nokia’s director of market and competitor analysis, getting excited about Han’s demo.

In 2006, the NYU research scientist Jeff Han showed off a new multitouch interface technology as part of a popular TED talk. By the end of the decade, multitouch—in which multiple fingers can interact with a touchscreen at once—would play a key role in smartphones from Apple, HTC, and Palm. Steve Jurvetson/Flickr

“Timo burst into the room, saying, ‘You’ve got to see this TED video of this guy using multitouch,’” Bryer recalls. “We both thought that was cool and that’s the future. Then I looked at the sponsors of the presenter’s research, and among them were Nokia and Microsoft.”

And yet it took Nokia years to develop a phone that used multitouch. “Remember, Nokia is based in Finland,” he says. “It’s very cold in Finland. They wear gloves for six months of the year, including the executives. They didn’t think a device like that would work.”

Winter gloves were no obstacle to operating the chunky buttons on Nokia phones, a design priority perhaps stemming from the company’s Finnish culture and headquarters. Erol Gurian/laif/Redux

Partanen was also at Nokia’s post-iPhone launch meeting, and recalls that there was little concern in the room. “We felt okay,” he says. “This is yet another competitor launching a great product. But we had no doubt that, if it’s successful, we would do the same. We will launch similar products.”

In November 2008, Nokia released the 5800 XpressMusic, a year and a half after Apple had launched its iPhone. Shaun Curry/AFP/Getty Images

That similar product ended up being the Nokia 5800 XpressMusic, known as the Tube, released in 2008. “The idea was to focus on streaming videos and television,” Partanen says. “So we made a phone with a similar form factor to the iPhone [that was] optimized for streaming content.” But the 5800 was “delayed, delayed, delayed, delayed,” he says. “It didn’t materialize in the way it was planned. It was released as a watered-down version.”

Critics skewered the 5800’s “outdated” feature set and “ancient” S60 operating system, which ran on top of Symbian OS, an open-source mobile platform Nokia had recently acquired. The 5800 sold reasonably well for its time, reaching around 8 million units in its first year alone. But it did not feature multitouch.

“I think that started to be the point when everybody realized that, hey, this is by far more difficult than earlier competitive issues we’ve had,” Partanen says.

Nokia finally released its first device with multitouch in 2010, three years after Jobs’s splashy iPhone announcement and four years after Han’s TED talk demo.

How Android Ate Up the Low-End Market

Nokia had long owned the low end of the cellphone market, with its sturdy, no-frills devices suited for that segment. So the years immediately following the iPhone’s launch saw the Finnish firm continue to thrive as it kept turning out simple, rugged devices.

As one review of the Nokia 1200—successor to the 1100—put it in October 2007, “This handset chucks away all the fancy features you’ve come to expect on a modern mobile, leaving you with a pared-down feature set that’s easy for tech novices to get their heads around.”

Two cellphone users in Nairobi, Kenya in 2013 exchange a payment on a Nokia 1200 phone via the M-Pesa Mobile Money Market, a popular online banking service. Trevor Snapp/Bloomberg/Getty Images

The 1200 kept the 1100’s dust-proofing, flashlight, and long-lasting battery, and added features aimed squarely at the developing world. The 1200 was the first to include call-time tracking and a multiuser phone book, allowing owners who planned to lend their device to set up call limits based on time or cost. This feature helped enable what Nokia researchers called kiosks—informal pay-per-call services, in which an enterprising phone subscriber charged neighbors and family members by the minute for use of the device.

In 2006, Nokia studied how Ugandans used their Nokia phones in rural and remote areas. An internal company slide deck from the time reveals just how keyed-in Nokia was to its lowest-income users. “Village phone operators are often women,” the slide deck notes. “And there tend to be a lot of children around. (Phones need to suffer considerable abuse from chewing, dust, sweat, etc.)”

“A unit of phone time is 60 seconds,” another slide states. “But to avoid accidentally going over that time and incurring extra costs, kiosk operators shorten the unit to 57 seconds, allowing a three-second margin of error. Shared mobile used as phone kiosk must show call time.”

Nokia’s familiarity with its market couldn’t protect the company forever, though.

Nokia sought out user input around the world for the company’s device designs, including hosting “Open Studio” contests soliciting users’ sketches of their dream cellphone. Shaul Schwarz/Getty Images

That’s because the iPhone wasn’t Nokia’s only looming smartphone competitor. In September 2008, the first Android phone went on sale—the HTC Dream, which was also sold as the T-Mobile G1.

While the iPhone was aimed mostly at early adopters and affluent users who could afford to drop hundreds of dollars on a new phone, Android phones were, within a couple of years, aiming at the same low-cost, global user base Nokia was selling to.

“I think it’s fair to say Android is the one that disrupted the market more for Nokia,” Bryer says. “Most of Nokia’s successful devices were not on the high-end market. But then, when Android came along, it started to fill that lower end and eventually took that market away from us.”

An executive from Nokia India in 2010 holds the company’s 5530 XpressMusic and 5230 phones, both of which had touchscreens, although only the 5530 had Wi-Fi. Sam Panthaky/AFP/Getty Images

With two emerging competitors in the low end and high end, the Finnish device maker responded with a device that split the difference—and satisfied neither camp.

Released in 2009, the Nokia 5230 attempted to be a low-priced, touchscreen (though not multitouch) competitor to both the iPhone and Android. It sold an impressive 150 million units, doing especially well in developing countries.

But the 5230 didn’t have Wi-Fi—one of the biggest complaints at the time. In the developing world, Wi-Fi connections were still rare, so the lack of Wi-Fi made some sense. But the rest of the world was not pleased.

“We had such a big gap and dominant position,” Bryer says. “Which does maybe create a level of comfort which you should never get.”

How Nokia Lost the Smartphone Race

By the beginning of the 2010s, Nokia could have still drawn from the company’s labs, which were regularly spinning out new technologies and innovations. However, the Finnish handset maker ultimately failed to turn its R&D into viable new product lines in response to the emerging smartphone threat.

Nokia’s predicament had precedent—Kodak, dominant in film photography, had actually invented the digital camera in 1975 but failed to commercialize it before digital imaging made its core business obsolete.

“The technology coming from our R&D teams was cutting edge,” says Gordon Murray-Smith, director of services and ecosystems intelligence from 2008 to 2011. He recalls attending annual R&D innovation days that showcased work on self-healing materials and flexible screens, long before those technologies were seen elsewhere. “But why was Nokia not able to commercialize some of that really interesting and innovative activity more than it did?”

Nokia desperately needed an injection of life to change its fortunes. The company’s first non-Finnish CEO, Stephen Elop (a Canadian fresh off a two-year stint on Microsoft’s leadership team), did not mince words.

In an internal memo from February 2011 that was soon leaked to the media, Elop wrote, “The first iPhone shipped in 2007, and we still don’t have a product that is close to their experience. Android came on the scene just over two years ago, and this week they took our leadership position in smartphone volumes. Unbelievable.”

In 2011, Nokia released the N9, a smartphone with a Linux-derived operating system. Within a year, Nokia had pivoted toward its Windows Phone-powered line of Lumia devices. Munshi Ahmed/Bloomberg/Getty Images

Elop oversaw the 2011 launch of a Linux-based smartphone, the Nokia N9. The N9 ran on a distribution of Linux called MeeGo. Reviewers at the time praised the new smartphone direction the Finnish phone maker had taken. “Possibly the most beautiful phone ever made,” wrote one reviewer about the N9 for Engadget.

But the N9’s accolades did not ultimately carry the day. Nokia announced its Lumia line of phones the same year—a direct pivot away from MeeGo toward the Windows Phone. It would be the last major strategic turn Nokia would take as a cellphone manufacturer. From this point forward, a succession of C-suite decisions all but sealed the fate of Nokia’s iconic line of phones.

In 2013, Microsoft announced its bid to acquire Nokia’s handset operations. After the sale went through the following year, it rebranded the division Microsoft Mobile. But the year after that, Microsoft decided it had made a costly mistake, writing down $7.6 billion—nearly what it paid for Nokia’s handset division—and laying off nearly half of the former Nokia staff it had inherited.

In 2016, Microsoft sold its feature phone assets to HMD Global. The latter still sells Nokia-branded phones—budget-friendly devices as well as nostalgia reproductions of models from Nokia’s glory days. What remained was a brand name, some intellectual property, and two decades of hard-won lessons about what it takes to stay on top—and what it costs when you can’t.

“When you look at the players in the world of smartphones today, any of those players would struggle ever to achieve 14 consecutive years of being No. 1,” says Murray-Smith.

Partanen says there was a downside to Nokia’s mobile-phone dominance. “Often, being the first mover is not necessarily the best position,” he says. “Being a quick follower is the best position.”

The company itself ultimately survived, even if the transition wasn’t painless. Nokia’s revenues, which peaked in 2007, fell sharply through the mid-2010s before the company refocused on a decades-old business line—telecom infrastructure—that many had forgotten Nokia was even in. Nokia now ranks among the world’s top three suppliers of 5G network equipment, serving carriers across more than 125 countries, alongside Ericsson and Huawei. Although the company could never quite crack the smartphone, it now plays a key role in providing the network backbone those smartphones run on.

This article is brought to you by X Square Robot.

Large language models gave artificial intelligence a working recipe. Pretrain a large model on broad data, and general capability follows. Robotics has no such recipe. Robotics systems have long been assembled from separate perception, planning, and control parts that rarely add up to intelligence a robot can carry from one task to another, or one machine to another. The central problem in embodied AI is to find the equivalent recipe, and the field does not yet agree on what it is.

X Square Robot, a Chinese embodied-AI company, has made an unusually explicit bet. It argues that the recipe is an integrated stack, spanning the data a robot learns from, a world model for predicting changes in the physical world, and an action model that brings together perception, planning, reasoning, and decision-making to generate executable robot behavior. The company also believes that the stack should be built and released in the open.

X Square Robot shares its vision of bringing robots into real homes.X Square Robot

X Square Robot’s embodied AI stack

What holds the stack together is a small set of principles rather than a single overarching model.

• The first is that the basic unit of robot data is an interaction, not a trajectory; a demonstration is successful only if it changes the world as intended, not simply because the joints moved.
• The second is that pretraining should yield usable capability, not just an initialization for later fine-tuning.
• The third is that behavior should be modeled around physical events rather than fixed slices of time.

These principles make the layers interdependent, since the same robot-free data that trains the action model is also structured to feed the world model. It is worth being precise, though. The company describes the world model and the action model as complementary but independent model families that share a code base. Both sit within its broader World Unified Model, which it has presented as an architecture for training vision, language, action, and physical prediction together.

Robot learning data: Engineering for quality and cost, not scale

For the X Square Robot team, one of the biggest constraints on general-purpose robots is the cost and quality of interaction data, not the number of parameters. To address that, the company built its Universal Manipulation Interface (UMI) data collection system, QUANXTA Zero Series. It works by collecting demonstrations from people wearing a rig with dual grippers rather than teleoperating a robot. This approach is not itself new, and builds on established methods for robot-free data capture. What sets it apart are two engineering choices.

The first is quality control, and it is the most distinctive part. Rather than accepting recorded trajectories as they are, the system runs a closed inspection loop, and its notable step is physical playback. A sample of trajectories is replayed on the real robot, and only those that actually complete the task count as valid. That makes the validity rate a measured quantity rather than an assumption. For example, a gripper that closes a fraction of a second too early still looks like a grasp in the data, yet it has pushed the object away, so it shouldn’t be classified as valid. A smaller clean dataset can be worth more than a larger noisy one.

The second choice is how lower-cost human data and scarce robot data are combined. The company pretrains on a large volume of robot-free demonstrations to build general representations, then adds a small amount of real-robot data as an anchor to the specific machine’s dynamics. It reports that this reaches performance comparable to an all-robot dataset at roughly a 20-fold lower cost of collection, driven mainly by how much cheaper the wearable rig is than a teleoperation setup.

The resulting dataset is deliberately model-agnostic, formatted to feed both action models and world models. The caveat is that the strongest results are measured on the company’s own robots and data-collection pipelines. Broader independent testing will help confirm and extend these promising results across a wider range of settings.

A world model organized around events

In developing its world model, called WALL-WM, X Square Robot took a differentiated approach. Most action models predict a fixed-length chunk of motion from the current image and instruction. That is convenient, but it segments behavior into fixed-duration windows, so the boundaries fall where elapsed time dictates rather than where one action ends and the next begins. WALL-WM instead treats an action-grounded semantic event as its unit: a coherent piece of behavior such as reaching, grasping, or placing, something that can be named in language, seen in video, and executed as motion.

WALL-WM’s design reflects a specific concern about not discarding what large video models already know. To achieve that, a text-to-video model is coupled to a freshly initialized action network that reads from the video features without overwriting them, which preserves the visual prior. From that one process, it offers two modes. An event mode runs in variable-length segments and suits reasoning over long horizons, while a fixed-length mode produces the steady, real-time output a controller needs. That places WALL-WM between mainstream chunk-based action models and pure video world models, keeping the predictive character of a world model while still yielding executable control.

In a series of experiments, the company relied on a generalization test that is more specific than most. A model trained on a limited dataset was evaluated on long-horizon tasks in unseen settings and, on the company’s real-robot benchmark, reportedly outscored baselines that had been fine-tuned on related data. That is a meaningful result if it holds. For now, it is measured on the company’s own benchmark. With the code now being released, the broader community will have the opportunity to test, reproduce, and build on them across more settings.

A policy that runs before fine-tuning, and action tokens with meaning

The action layer carries two connected ideas. The first is a requirement the company sets for itself with Wall-OSS-0.5, its vision-language-action model: The pretrained model should run on a real robot before any task-specific fine-tuning.

The interest is less in the scores than in the design behind them. The model trains three objectives together, namely discrete action tokens, language grounding, and continuous action generation. And it keeps gradients flowing through all of them rather than freezing parts of the network as some rival designs do. It’s also a more strict method, since it reports untuned behavior such as approaching, grasping, and recovering, including on a deformable task held out of training.

The second idea is the action interface itself, called X-Tokenizer. Most systems that turn continuous motion into discrete tokens produce codes that the language model cannot interpret. X-Tokenizer reframes tokenization as learning a semantic interface, so that the top-level code stands for the intent of a motion while lower-level codes carry finer detail, all aligned with the language model’s own features.

A useful consequence is stability. Adding noise to an action barely moves the intent code, which is what lets one tokenizer to be reused across robots without re-tuning. The tokenizer inside the production action model is a related variant of this approach. Together, the two ideas give the action layer something rather powerful: capability that transfers.

The future of embodied AI stacks

X Square Robot is betting that its unique approach combining three layers, each specialized in solving a key part of the problem, will stand out from other embodied AI stacks. The physical-playback step that grounds data quality is uncommon and sensible. The reframing of world modeling around events, with one backbone serving both reasoning and control, is a genuinely distinct approach. And the pairing of a deployable pretraining standard with a tokenizer designed as a semantic interface gives the action layer unusual coherence.

X Square Robot’s valuation has climbed above 20 billion yuan (about US $2.9 billion), suggesting that investors increasingly view data infrastructure, foundation models, and scalable training systems as long-term differentiators in embodied AI.

The next phase will bring broader validation. Much of the current evidence comes from X Square’s own robots and benchmarks. With the world model code now being made public, and as the community begins to test, reproduce, and build on the work, the reported capabilities will be tested across more robots, tasks, and settings.

X Square Robot’s recent funding rounds reflect similar confidence. The company’s valuation has climbed above 20 billion yuan (about US $2.9 billion), suggesting that investors increasingly view data infrastructure, foundation models, and scalable training systems as long-term differentiators in embodied AI.

What’s next for X Square Robot

To learn more about its future plans, the following Q&A with the X Square Robot team further explores the company’s technology, strategy, and vision.

What made now the right moment, technically, to commit to this stack? What recently became possible that wasn’t possible a couple of years ago?

It is not one breakthrough but several trends maturing together. Foundation models gave us a shared representation across vision, language, and action, so we can model what a robot sees, what it is asked to do, and how its actions change the world in one framework, rather than as separate perception, planning, and control modules.

Compute and infrastructure are finally sufficient for large-scale pretraining over long-horizon, multi-embodiment data. Just as importantly, we realized that data, not model size, is the real bottleneck for general robots—what is scarce is diverse, high-quality, reproducible interaction data. And world modeling has become practical. The useful question is no longer how to predict a few seconds of video, but how to understand the ways actions change objects, contacts, and task states. Two years ago these ingredients existed separately. Today they are mature enough to work as one system.

“We realized that data, not model size, is the real bottleneck for general robots—what is scarce is diverse, high-quality, reproducible interaction data. And world modeling has become practical.”

Your data system captures demonstrations with a wearable VR rig and custom grippers rather than teleoperating robots. What was wrong with standard teleoperation?

Teleoperation is built around controlling the robot. It forces the operator to work within the machine’s kinematics, latency, and viewpoint, and the resulting demonstrations are slower, stiffer, and less diverse. We built our system around capturing human skill instead. Manipulation is really about contact, timing, finger coordination, and recovery, not just the path the hand takes, and a wearable rig records those before the behavior is compressed onto one particular robot. It also breaks teleoperation’s expensive scaling law, in which every demonstration needs a robot.

People can generate rich data independently of any robot, and the crucial property is that those demonstrations can still be replayed and executed on a physical robot through the model. Mobility is convenient, but that replay is the real point, because it is what lets the same data be reused across different platforms.

In X Square Robot’s approach, demonstrations can be replayed and executed on a physical robot through the AI model, allowing the same data to be reused across different platforms.X Square Robot

X Square Robot reports that its pipeline has roughly an 85 percent data-validity rate. Why is quality control such an underrated bottleneck?

Because errors in robot data are far more expensive than in language data. A small timing or contact error can change what a demonstration means. If a gripper closes a fraction of a second too early, the motion still looks like a grasp, but physically it has pushed the object away. A dataset that mixes failures and accidental successes teaches ambiguity, not skill, because the real unit is the interaction, not the trajectory.

So we run automated inspection, kinematic checks, and physical replay, where we play a sample of trajectories back on the real robot and count only the ones that actually complete the task. Data quality sets the ceiling on how good a policy can be. In our experience a smaller, cleaner dataset often beats a much larger, noisier one, which is why we treat quality control as part of the model, not a preprocessing afterthought.

The model runs in both “event mode” and “chunk mode.” When does each matter?

Both matter, for different reasons. The physical world changes through events—when contact occurs, a grasp forms, or an object slips—not in fixed-frame windows. Event mode concentrates the model’s attention on those moments, and it matters most for long-horizon tasks, like clearing a table, where progress is a sequence of semantic events rather than a smooth stream. It runs in variable-length segments that follow the task rather than a clock. Chunk mode matters for deployment. Real controllers need a stable, real-time interface, and fixed-length chunks integrate cleanly with existing control systems.

We organize learning around events in the first place because a fixed window can split one motion in half or merge two together, which turns training into short-horizon pattern matching and weakens the model on long tasks. So the world model’s job is to connect event-level understanding, which is where the reasoning happens, with a fixed-length output a real robot can actually run.

Why make “deployable before fine-tuning” the criterion?

Pretraining should produce capability, not just a good starting point. If a model is only useful after heavy fine-tuning, then most of the intelligence still lives in the downstream supervision, not in the foundation model. Deployable before fine-tuning is a more honest test of what pretraining actually learned. A well-pretrained robot should already know how to approach, grasp, move, avoid obstacles, and correct itself. Fine-tuning should adapt it to a specific task or robot, not create the ability from nothing. It is also a practical requirement. A robot in a home or a workplace shouldn’t need a brand-new dataset and a new policy every time the task changes, so a foundation model that already carries general skill, and some ability to recover, is the minimum bar for something genuinely useful in the real world.

What is the most challenging part of cross-embodiment learning?

Robots differ in control frequency, delay, compliance, sensing precision, and contact dynamics, so the same instruction can require different action decompositions and recovery strategies, and a behavior that works on one arm cannot simply be copied to another. Cross-embodiment learning needs an intermediate abstraction, lower than language but higher than joint angles: how you approach an object, how you make contact, how you apply force, and how you recover from a mistake.

When we say cross-embodiment, the main capability we mean is multi-embodiment generalization: transferring across robots, training on many embodiments at once, and adapting to different kinematics. Human-to-robot transfer and other techniques are specific approaches to that goal.

“A robot in a home or workplace shouldn’t need a new dataset and policy every time the task changes. A useful foundation model should already carry general skills and the ability to recover.”

What would you most like to see other researchers attempt to reproduce or stress-test?

Three things, above all. Whether event-level representations really generalize beyond our own datasets, across more tasks, scenes, objects, embodiments, and failure conditions. Whether pretraining stays effective on robots the model never saw during training, or whether its capability is still too tightly coupled to what it has already seen. And whether real-robot evaluation can become a shared language for the field, so that we compare not just success rates but the reasons systems fail, where an instruction was misread, where perception broke down, or where recovery fell short. Robotics has been driven too often by impressive demonstrations, and real progress comes from results that are reproducible and diagnosable.

What capability is still missing before robots become dependable in homes?

Benchmarks measure competence, like whether a model can finish a task. Homes demand reliability, safe and consistent operation over time in a place that changes every day, with objects moving, instructions that are vague, and people interrupting. The missing piece is not a higher one-time success rate: it is robust recovery. A dependable home robot has to know when it is uncertain, when to slow down, when to ask for help, and how to bring the world back to a safe state after it drops something or misunderstands a request.

In a real home, failure recovery matters more than raw success, because the home does not reset itself. Homes also demand careful personalization, learning a household’s routines and preferences over time, with safety and trust as first principles. That combination, not any single skill, separates a capable demonstration from a robot people can live with.

X Square Robot’s approach is that, in a real home, failure recovery matters more than raw success, because the home does not reset itself and it demands careful personalization, with safety and trust as first principles. X Square Robot

How do the open-source components fit into X Square Robot’s World Unified Model direction?

We see these releases as layers of the World Unified Model direction rather than isolated projects. Wall-OSS-0.5, the action model, asks whether an open vision-language-action model can gain directly measurable capability from large-scale pretraining, so it is the capability layer. WALL-WM, the world model, asks how a robot should understand change in the world, shifting from fixed windows to event-level modeling, so it is the representation layer. The data system supplies the interaction data that both of them learn from.

Together they form a loop in which models produce capability, world models organize understanding, and the open-source community drives reproduction and improvement. World Unified Model is the broader architecture those layers support, bringing vision, language, action, and physical prediction together.

We are releasing these pieces openly because embodied intelligence cannot be solved by one organization; it needs many embodiments, many real tasks, and broad feedback, and the long-term goal is a stack that keeps learning and ultimately moves robots from laboratory demonstrations toward reliable everyday use.

A practical educational guide to common and uncommon VHF propagation modes, covering thephysics, range implications, and real-world behaviors engineers need to understand.

What Attendees will Learn

1. Why “line of sight” fails as a practical VHF planning model.
2. How refraction, reflection, diffraction, and scattering deliver or destroy signals where geometry alone cannot predict.
3. How tropospheric refraction extends the VHF radio horizon roughly one-third beyond optical line of sight.
4. How temperature inversions form ducts that can carry VHF signals over 1,500 km.
5. How sporadic E, meteor burst, and EME propagate VHF signals across hundreds to thousands of kilometers.
6. What frequency limits, distance ranges, and environmental triggers apply to each propagation mode.
7. How to apply this knowledge to link budgeting, interference prediction, and contingency planning.

The computing community recently lost one of its enduring voices: IEEE Fellow Peter G. Neumann. The renowned computer scientist and respected risk analyst died on 17 May at the age of 93.

For almost 70 years, Neumann shaped the computing field through his pioneering work on risks, system dependability, security, and fault tolerance with rare intellectual depth and unwavering ethical clarity.

Five of those decades were spent as a principal scientist at SRI International in Menlo Park, Calif., where he worked until his death. A detailed narrative of his work, life, and mentoring is available on his SRI web page, where he chronicled his journey.

He possessed a rare ability to identify systemic vulnerabilities long before they became widely recognized. He cautioned that interconnected systems, if poorly designed or insufficiently scrutinized, could fail and become targets for exploitation. He insisted innovation always must be accompanied by responsibility, reliability, and a clear understanding of the risks involved.

With the widespread adoption of computing, information technology, artificial intelligence, and autonomous systems, Neumann’s insights have become more relevant.

From Harvard to Bell Labs

Neumann was born on 21 September 1932 in New York City. After graduating from high school, he pursued a degree in mathematics at Harvard, where he had a conversation that shaped his approach to research, according to the Association for Computing Machinery (ACM). In November 1952 he had a two-hour breakfast meeting with Albert Einstein, at which they discussed the importance of simplicity in design.

Neumann was among the first generation of Harvard students to program computers and, remarkably for that era, enjoyed exclusive access to the computing systems.

After earning his bachelor’s degree in 1954, he continued his education at Harvard, earning a master’s degree in 1955. In 1958 he moved to Germany to become a doctoral student at the Technical University of Darmstadt as part of the Fulbright program, which provides funding for U.S. citizens to study or teach abroad. He earned his doctorate in 1960.

After returning to the United States, he joined Bell Labs in Murray Hill, N.J., where he worked on error-correcting codes and survivable communications. He also pursued a second Ph.D. in applied mathematics and science at Harvard, achieving that goal in 1961.

Four years later, he was assigned to work on Multics, which became an influential operating system that shaped modern secure computing architectures. Multics was a mainframe time-sharing system designed to serve the diverse needs of multiple users simultaneously. Neumann designed its filing system, which featured hierarchical directories, access control lists, and dynamically paged virtual memory segments. He also played a key role in the design of its input/output system.

In 1970 he left Bell Labs to join SRI.

Technical contributions at SRI

Neumann made several seminal and foundational technical contributions while at SRI, including the following:

• Provably Secure Operating System. The PSOS project he worked on advanced formal methods in operating systems and computer security. The project demonstrated that security could be designed within the initial plan rather than retrofitted.
• Election integrity and voting systems. He outlined vulnerabilities in electronic systems and advocated for transparency, verifiability, and public accountability.
• Systems-level risk thinking. He broadened the concept of computer security to encompass human factors, governance, policy failures, social consequences, organizational negligence, and misuse of automation. His system-level perspective now fuels debates on AI governance and digital trust.
• Intrusion-detection systems. With his colleague Dorothy E. Denning, a security expert, he helped develop an intrusion-detection expert system (IDES), laying the groundwork for modern cyberdefenses.
• CHERI. He promoted hardware-assisted secure computing: technology that now influences next-generation processors. The Capability Hardware-Enhanced RISC Instructions (CHERI) architecture project, which Neumann led, is now being commercialized by an international, nonprofit alliance.

His contributions are united by a simple but profound principle: Security should be foundational, not incidental. Neumann argued that security must be embedded into system architecture from the start—not patched after deployment.

ACM’s Risks Forum

Neumann’s other enduring contribution was the creation and stewardship of the ACM Risks Forum, formally known as the Forum on Risks to the Public in Computers and Related Systems. For decades, it was one of the most respected online arenas for critical reflection on computing failures, vulnerabilities, security breaches, unintended consequences, and emerging technological threats. He transformed the forum into a scholarly archive of cautionary lessons in computing failures and risks.

In 1985 he started documenting how technological systems fail when complexity exceeds understanding and when society places blind trust in automation. He then moderated the community for 41 years, leaving his position in April, weeks before his passing.

In 1995 he published Computer-Related Risks, a book that serves as a case-driven guide to how computer systems fail and why. It is still relevant in an era defined by AI, growing cyberthreats, and our deep digital dependence.

Intellectual rigor with grace and humility

Neumann viewed computing not as an abstract technical pursuit but as a profoundly human enterprise carrying societal responsibilities. He was thoughtfully skeptical, questioned assumptions, and challenged complacency. His observations often anticipated challenges years before they became mainstream concerns.

He exemplified high scholarship ideals and was intellectually honest and ethically steadfast. He had been a frequent critic of lax attitudes the industry has maintained toward both computer security and individual digital privacy. He warned against the industry’s tendency to repeat mistakes.

Neumann’s signature contribution was not technical but a stance. He insisted, against industry custom, that recurring computer failures were not unfortunate accidents but rather were predictable consequences of how systems were built and sold.

He was fundamentally an optimist about what can be done with research and was a pessimist about corporations.

Security is not merely a technical patch, he said, but is a systemic property requiring sound design, governance, and human judgment. He consistently warned that uncontrolled complexity is itself a source of risk.

His signature contribution was not technical but a stance. He insisted, against industry custom, that recurring computer failures were not unfortunate accidents but rather were predictable consequences of how systems were built and sold.

Honors and recognitions

Neumann was honored with a number of honors including the Electronic Privacy Information Center’s 2018 Lifetime Achievement Award, the Computing Research Association’s 2013 Distinguished Service Award, and ACM’s 2005 Special Interest Group on Security, Audit, and Control Outstanding Contributions Award.

In addition to being an IEEE Fellow, he was a Fellow of ACM, the American Association for the Advancement of Science, and SRI. In 2012 he was inducted into the Cyber Security Hall of Fame.

An enduring legacy

Neumann’s greatest legacy is not necessarily his inventions but his way of thinking. His longtime interest was the risk ecology of computing—the business, technological, social, political, and personal risks that computing has created, along with its tremendous benefits in each of those spheres. He left us a timely lesson: Innovation must be accompanied by responsibility, foresight, and care.

Neumann was “one of the last of the old guard and a pointer to the future,” observed IEEE Life Fellow Whitfield Diffie, who helped invent public key cryptography. Highlighting both the significance and enduring relevance of Neumann’s work, a tribute by blogger Phoenix AMTD aptly said: “He spent 70 years cataloging how computers fail. We spent 70 years not listening. Maybe now we will.”

Let’s honor Peter G. Neumann not merely by remembering his advice but by following it.

An examination of how satellite vulnerabilities, modern wideband waveforms, and automatic link establishment are driving renewed military and government investment in HF communications.

What Attendees will Learn

1. Why HF (High Frequency) declined — and what has changed — How satellites overtook HF for global communications from the 1970s onward, and why growing awareness of satellite vulnerabilities to anti-satellite weapons, jamming, solar storms, and coverage gaps is reviving interest in skywave propagation as a resilient alternative.
2. How the ionosphere enables and limits global HF communication — Understand the roles of the D, E, and F ionospheric layers in refracting and absorbing signals, the concepts of maximum usable frequency (MUF) and lowest usable frequency (LUF), and how sunspot number, solar flux index, and A/K geomagnetic indices are used to quantify and predict propagation conditions.
3. How automatic link establishment transforms HF operability — Trace the evolution from proprietary first-generation ALE through interoperable second- and third-generation standards to fourth-generation wideband ALE, which automates frequency selection, link setup, and adaptation to changing channel conditions — removing the dependency on highly skilled operators.
4. How wideband HF is closing the throughput.

Working in isolation, especially for leaders, is rapidly becoming an outmoded idea. The modern era is defined by rapid technological advancements and increasingly complex, collaborative global challenges. In this environment, leadership can no longer be approached as an individual pursuit.

Instead, leadership must be a collaborative effort in which knowledge, responsibility, and innovation are continuously exchanged across teams, roles, and areas of expertise. Success depends on the ability to foster connection, leverage diverse perspectives, and work collectively toward shared outcomes.

The shift is especially important in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics fields.

IEEE is bringing together emerging professionals and established experts and leaders at the inaugural IEEE International Leadership Conference to address the need for cross-generational knowledge-sharing and to equip professionals with tools for collaborative leadership. Honoring Expertise, Accelerating Potential is the theme of the ILC, scheduled for 3 and 4 October in Budapest.

The conference is expected to focus on how leaders can share information across roles, adapt to rapid technological advancements, and build stronger, more connected professional communities. Through discussions, panels, and interactive sessions, attendees can examine how collaboration across experience levels and disciplines can strengthen decision-making and foment innovation.

“There are several factors driving this shift [in leadership], including accelerating technological development cycles, the need to build public trust, and the large percentage of the STEM workforce approaching retirement,” says Vickie Ozburn, conference cochair. “Progress in STEM now depends less on individual brilliance and more on the ability to transfer knowledge, adapt, and make decisions that integrate technical expertise with ethical and social considerations.”

From hierarchies to shared leadership

Instead of traditional corporate models rooted in hierarchy and individual advancement, a more dynamic framework is taking shape, one that views leadership as a shared ecosystem built on mentorship, continuous learning, and intentional knowledge transfer.

It means recognizing that professional development is no longer a one-directional flow of experience from senior professionals to newcomers. Instead, it thrives as a multidirectional exchange. When emerging professionals, mid-career managers, and seasoned experts including retirees are brought together, the result is not only richer dialogue but also more resilient and well-informed decision-making. A cross-generational dialogue enables organizations to honor what has worked, critically assess what has failed, and thoughtfully shape what needs to evolve.

Bridging experience to drive future leadership

Howard Wolfman, cochair of the IEEE ILC, underscores the importance of historical perspective in leadership development, invoking George Santayana’s enduring insight: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

“In STEM especially, this principle carries significant weight,” says Wolfman, an IEEE life senior member and the founder and principal of Lumispec Consulting, in Northbrook, Ill. “Technological innovation doesn’t happen all of a sudden; it builds on decades of research, lessons learned, and accumulated knowledge. When leaders actively connect insights from across experience levels, they gain a more complete understanding of both opportunity and risk.”

That perspective reinforces the need for greater collaboration across roles and experience levels, ensuring that knowledge is not lost and is continuously built upon and applied in new ways. In this way, leadership development becomes a continuous, interconnected process rather than a series of isolated stages.

STEM careers are no longer defined by linear progression but by evolving contributions, in which each phase adds value to the field’s broader advancement.

What the changes mean for leaders today

Adopting a new leadership paradigm requires a shift in mindset across all levels. For senior leaders, success is defined not only by what they have built but also by the people they mentor and the knowledge they pass forward. Their legacy lies in enabling future leaders to succeed.

For emerging young professionals, innovation becomes more informed and impactful when it is grounded in historical context and informed by those who have already navigated similar challenges.

“Technological innovation doesn’t happen all of a sudden; it builds on decades of research, lessons learned, and accumulated knowledge. When leaders actively connect insights from across experience levels, they gain a more complete understanding of both opportunity and risk.”—Howard Wolfman, cochair of the IEEE International Leadership Conference

For organizations, cross-generational collaboration should be recognized as a strategic advantage, not merely an aspiration. Creating environments where knowledge flows freely and diverse perspectives are actively integrated is essential for long-term success.

The evolution reframes the distinction between management and leadership.

“A leader does the right thing, and a manager does things right,” Wolfman says. As the environment continues to shift, doing the right thing increasingly depends on drawing insights from across generations and experiences.

Building future-ready leadership pipelines

To build leadership pipelines capable of sustaining innovation and trust, organizations must begin asking more intentional questions:

• How do we create systems where knowledge sharing is continuous rather than episodic?
• How do we elevate emerging voices earlier in their careers?
• How do we ensure that experienced professionals remain engaged and valued contributors?
• How do we design leadership development as a collaborative, inclusive process rather than a competitive one?

Ultimately, leadership cannot be tied solely to titles or tenure. It is about contributing to a continuum in which each generation strengthens the next.

The IEEE ILC attendees are likely to leave the event with new insights and with a transformed perspective: Leadership is not about waiting for advancement or recognition; it is about engaging in an exchange of knowledge, responsibility, and vision, where the strength of the whole depends on the contributions of every generation.

Registration for the conference opens soon.

A semitrailer that helps propel itself entered commercial road testing in late May, when a power-train kit developed by Nivalis Energy Europe, headquartered in Luxembourg with engineering operations in Germany, was fitted to a trailer supplied by the Amsterdam-based TIP Group. The self-powered trailer was handed over to the German transport operator Sommer for use in its working fleet.

The Nivalis Powered Trailer Kit centers on an electric axle codeveloped with the running-gear specialist BPW, based in Wiehl, Germany. The axle, rated at 50 kilowatts-peak, is capable of both propulsion assistance and regenerative braking. It draws on a 60-kilowatt-hour, 400-volt lithium-ion battery pack charged from three sources: the axle itself during braking and deceleration, a full-rooftop array of photovoltaic panels generating up to 3.7 kilowatts-peak, and a 32-ampere, three-phase AC grid connection available during parking stops. The driver’s only window into the system is a small display readable from the cab’s side mirror that shows the system status and battery charge level. Nothing about the trailer’s handling or licensing requirements changes.

The partners project savings of up to 7,000 liters of diesel per trailer per year, which is enough to keep about 19 tonnes of carbon dioxide out of the air. These figures are based on a trailer running 100,000 kilometers annually at payloads between 20 and 24 tonnes, on a mix of long-haul and hub-to-hub routes.

Pavel Gilman, vice president of sales and marketing at Nivalis, breaks down where those savings come from: roughly 30 to 35 percent from the electric axle during braking and deceleration, 11 to 15 percent from the rooftop solar panels, and the remainder (roughly half) from grid charging during parking stops. The pilot is planned to run for more than a year, spanning multiple seasons. The retrofit cost has not been disclosed, and the pilot is running on a single trailer. But the underlying assumptions are now on the table and they represent a specific, high-utilization use case (meaning a truck that’s almost always on the move, filled to capacity with freight) not a universal one.

Across Europe and North America, a growing number of companies have concluded that electrifying the trailer, rather than replacing the tractor unit, may be the fastest and most cost-effective path to decarbonizing long-haul freight. A new battery-electric heavy truck carries a high upfront cost and demands charging infrastructure that most freight corridors do not yet reliably provide. A retrofit kit fitted to an existing trailer is meant to sidestep both problems.

The question the industry has been working to answer is whether the energy harvested from regenerative braking, rooftop solar, and grid charging in short bursts when the vehicle is parked for loading and unloading is enough to produce savings that recover the kit’s cost in a reasonable time frame. Several companies now believe the answer is yes, and they are accumulating field data to prove it—though not all of them are going about it the same way.

Trailer industry places its bets

The competitive landscape has taken shape most visibly in Germany. Trailer Dynamics, an Aachen-based company, has conducted field tests with BMW Logistics, DB Schenker, Duvenbeck, and Volkswagen Konzernlogistik, reporting average fuel savings of around 40 percent for diesel tractor combinations, substantially higher than the up to 18 percent reduction implied by the Nivalis projection. The difference traces directly to battery size, but Trailer Dynamics frames the choice as an economic question rather than an architectural one.

“The discussion should not start with battery size, but with the economics of the transport operation,” the company said in response to written questions. “There is no single battery capacity that is universally right for every fleet.”

Trailer Dynamics’s modular system offers three configurations ranging from 187 to 551 kWh, sized to match route profile, annual mileage, payload, and charging access. The M300 version, whose designation reflects the capacity of its 300-kWh lithium iron phosphate battery supplied by the Chinese battery manufacturer CATL, adds approximately 4 tonnes to the trailer, roughly three times the one to 1.4 tonnes added to a trailer by the Nivalis system.

Both companies’ systems would extend the range of a battery-electric tractor by reducing the energy demand on the tractor’s motor. But Trailer Dynamics explicitly targets that use case, claiming its self-propelled trailer yields combined ranges of up to 850 km—enough to eliminate intermediate charging stops on many long-haul routes. Nivalis has not published range extension figures for electric tractor combinations, and its smaller battery and peak lower output suggest the effect would be more modest.

That higher energy-storage capability widens the addressable market for Trailer Dynamics considerably and helps explain the investment flowing into the self-propelled trailer space. In November 2025, the European Investment Bank extended a €25 million loan to the company, backed by the European Union’s InvestEU program, to support commercialization. Trailer Dynamics says it plans to begin industrial-scale production in 2028, with adoption expected to accelerate as European carbon-dioxide reduction requirements tighten toward 2030.

ZF, the German automotive supplier, entered the space with its TrailTrax system, using an electric axle rated at up to 210 kW continuous power. ZF claims that between onboard battery storage and energy recovered via regenerative braking, the self-propelled trailer system yields up to 16 percent in energy and carbon-dioxide savings when combined with a truck powered by an internal combustion engine. The company also says TrailTrax can reduce carbon-dioxide emissions by as much as 40 percent with opportunistic plug-in charging. Trailer manufacturers Kässbohrer and Krone have adopted the platform, as has BPW—the same running-gear specialist codeveloping the Nivalis axle.

In North America, Range Energy is developing a system with up to 300 kWh of onboard energy capacity, compatible with diesel, battery-electric, and hydrogen fuel cell tractors. Range, which has announced a partnership with ZF to help drive the development and adoption of the Range eTrailer System within the North American commercial trucking industry, is now equipping its trailers with ZF’s AxTrax 2 e-axle for battery-powered propulsion. Range Energy has a separate pilot agreement with DB Schenker, the German logistics company that is also among the European operators that tested the Trailer Dynamics system. Range and DB Schenker say they plan to deploy a powered trailer in commercial trucking operations in North America, with first deliveries scheduled for later this year. The breadth of activity across continents reflects a field that has moved well past the question of whether powered trailers work. The argument now is about which architecture works best and at what cost.

What the field does not yet have is a common standard for measuring and reporting savings. The figures from various pilots—an average of 40 percent from Trailer Dynamics, up to 18 percent implied by the Nivalis projection—reflect different routes, loads, seasons, and battery sizes. In some cases, they represent short validation runs rather than sustained operational data. Fleet operators evaluating competing systems are working with numbers that are difficult to interpret and impossible to rank against one another.

Both architectures reduce available payload, but by very different margins. The M300’s roughly 4-tonne addition dwarfs the one-to-1.4-tonne addition of the Nivalis system. Trailer Dynamics argues the weight penalty is largely academic in practice, because more than 90 percent of trailer movements are constrained by cargo volume before they approach legal weight limits. Under current European regulations, both systems reduce payload on a one-for-one basis. Frameworks under discussion would change that. New rules could allow up to 4 extra tonnes for electric trucks, with proposals to extend the provision to electric trailers. If amended, the payload effect would turn positive for both systems. Until then, every kilogram of kit is a kilogram unavailable for freight.

Small versus large battery systems

The choice between large-battery and small-battery powered trailers is a bet on which cost will fall faster: battery pack prices or the cost of grid-charging infrastructure. A large-battery system delivers higher savings but requires reliable charging access across the operating cycle. If infrastructure buildout stalls—as it has repeatedly in heavy-duty transport—operators face the same dependency problem that has slowed battery-electric truck adoption. The Nivalis architecture hedges against that risk: Its 32-A connection requires only a standard industrial outlet, and the solar array and regenerative braking handle significant energy input without infrastructure at all. Gilman frames the design philosophy in terms of the industry it serves.

“Logistics lives with low margins,” he said. “We are focused on the product which fits the industry technically and financially. It overcomes the capital expenditure hurdle and maximizes financial benefit by adding sources of energy which are symbiotic to each other.” And because Nivalis’s axle is comparatively light, he says, operators won’t be forced to reduce payload.

Trailer Dynamics sees it differently.

“Long-haul transport will increasingly move toward depot-based and destination-based charging models,” says Michael W. Nimtsch, the company’s managing director. “The question is not how small a battery can be made, but how much economic value each additional kilowatt-hour can generate over the life of the vehicle.”

On solar and regenerative recovery, Nimtsch argues that both are useful complements to stored battery energy rather than substitutes for it.

“Compared with the daily energy demand of a long-haul truck, solar generation remains relatively modest,” he says. The Nivalis energy breakdown supports that view in relative terms: Grid charging contributes the largest share of projected savings, regenerative braking second, and solar third. That hierarchy means performance depends more on charging access during dwell time than the multisource framing might suggest, even if that access requires only a standard industrial outlet.

Trailer Dynamics prices its system between €145,000 and €195,000 and targets a payback period of no more than five years. Nivalis targets five to six years at current costs, falling to three to four years as volumes grow. Asked exactly what the price tag says, the company declined to answer. The minimum annual savings needed, Gilman said, is between €5,000 and €6,000 per trailer. Until someone publishes a full year of results from a trailer running in normal commercial rotation, fleet operators cannot answer the two questions that actually drive adoption: What does this cost, and when does it pay back?

Toshio Fukuda has been blazing trails for most of his career. He is considered to be one of the most prolific scholars in robotics, writing more than 2,000 research papers and authoring several books on the field. He’s an influential figure thanks to his pioneering work developing biomedical robotic systems, industrial robots, micro-nano robotics, mechatronics, and AI-driven automation.

Fukuda launched one of the first robotics conferences, the IEEE/RSJ International Conference on Intelligent Robots and Systems (IROS). It is still popular almost 40 years later.

Toshio Fukuda

Employer

Egypt-Japan University of Science and Technology, in Alexandria

Title

Professor and vice president of research

Member grade

Life Fellow

Alma maters

Waseda University, in Tokyo; University of Tokyo

An IEEE Life Fellow, he is a professor emeritus in the department of micro-nano systems engineering and a visiting professor at Nagoya University, in Japan, where he taught for nearly 25 years. Currently, he is a vice president of research at the Egypt-Japan University of Science and Technology, in Alexandria, Egypt.

Within IEEE, Fukuda has held top volunteer positions including the organization’s highest office: He served as IEEE president in 2020, becoming the first person of Asian descent to hold the role.

He’s a former program director of Japan’s Moonshot program, which by 2050 intends to develop advanced AI robots.

Born in Japan, Fukuda has been recognized by the country for his contributions to science with two of its highest awards: the Medal of Honor with a purple ribbon in 2015 and the Order of the Sacred Treasure in 2022.

IEEE honored him with this year’s Richard M. Emberson Award for “distinguished service advancing the technical objectives of IEEE, especially in the area of robotics.” The IEEE Board-level award is sponsored by the IEEE Technical Activities Board. Fukuda received the award on 24 April at a ceremony in New York City.

As a former IEEE president who has served as a master of ceremonies at several of the organization’s major award events, Fukuda noted that he is more accustomed to bestowing awards than receiving them.

“It’s very interesting to be on the receiving end,” he says.

The journey into robotics research

As a teenager, Fukuda spent his summer breaks teaching himself how to build things including transistor radios and steam engines.

“It was very nice to have a hands-on hobby and make these kinds of things myself,” he says. His experimentation led him to study engineering.

He earned a bachelor’s degree in engineering in 1971 from Waseda University, in Tokyo. He says one of his professors there—Ichiro Kato, regarded as the father of Japanese robotics research—was a good mentor who made a positive impact.

Fukuda’s research interests were robotics and mechatronics, a field that combines robotics, electronics, computer science, and control systems.

He went on to earn a master’s degree and a doctorate in science from the University of Tokyo, in 1971 and 1977. During those years, he also attended Yale, where he conducted research on advanced control theory in 1973.

He reflects fondly on his time at Yale: “It was a very nice environment and a kind of free-thinking atmosphere. It motivated me to study more.”

“IEEE doesn’t care who you are, what you do, what country you are from, or whether you are male or female. IEEE accepts people who have energy and passion.”

While at Yale, Fukuda served as an assistant to his advisor—which led him to consider a career in academia, he says, because he enjoyed the freedom that research work afforded him.

But he realized that such freedom comes with a price. University researchers are expected to raise the money that funds their work. He compares researchers to small-business owners who have to bring in money to keep their enterprise afloat.

That realization led him to select robotics as his field because he intended to develop technologies useful to industry, he says.

After earning his doctorate, he returned to Japan in 1977 to work as a research scientist at the government’s Mechanical Engineering Laboratory, later renamed the National Institute of Advanced Industrial Science and Technology, in Tsukuba.

“There was a lot of research going on at the lab, including practical robotics and theory,” he says.

He left Japan in 1979 to become a visiting research fellow at the University of Stuttgart, in Germany. During his year there, he studied systems, software problems, and related topics.

He returned to Japan and was hired as an associate professor of mechanical engineering at the Tokyo University of Science. He conducted research into practical uses for robots by visiting industrial plants. He decided to develop robots that inspect industrial equipment such as those used in assembly plants, oil refineries, and power stations—places that “can be hostile environments for humans,” he says.

His work drew interest from chemical, oil, and utility companies.

“I got a lot of money from them for this very practical application, which funded my research,” he says, laughing.

Developing popular robotic systems

Fukuda grew tired of making those robots, he says, so he switched to creating ones for scientific applications. He developed many techniques, but he probably is best known for his modular, cellular robotic systems (CEBOTs), which he introduced in 1985.

He has described how CEBOTs work in numerous papers published in the IEEE Xplore Digital Library.

The CEBOT system is composed of a number of autonomous robotic cells that stick together like interlocking Lego plastic bricks, he says.

Each cell is a fundamental modular unit that has a function. When a simple task is given, the system can analyze it and generate the structure of the cellular manipulator. The cells connect to and detach from each other through connection mechanisms and cooperate mutually, creating complex structures and configurations.

“You start developing from the component-wise to the cell-wise to a small functional unit—and then you come up with clusters that make bigger systems. We can make a society of robot beings like that,” he explained in his oral history published on the Engineering and Technology History Wiki. “It’s a distributed robotic system, a self-organized robotic system, and also an evolutionary robotic system.

“It’s also a fault-tolerant robot system because if something is wrong, you just remove those things and make a new one. You keep the system working. That’s a great thing.”

Today CEBOTs are used for a variety of tasks such as delivering medication in hospitals, assisting with planting crops, and transporting products in distribution centers. Check out IEEE Spectrum’s Robots Guide for news from the world of robotics.

In 1989 Fukuda joined Nagoya University as a professor of mechanical engineering and micro-nano systems engineering. During his 24-year career there, he was director of the university’s Center for Micro-Nano Mechatronics. He developed a long list of technologies at the university, including many for medical applications. He also conducted groundbreaking research into intelligent robotic systems and micro- and nano-robotics.

Another technology he is known for is brachiation robots, which he helped develop in 1988. He calls them monkey robots because they’re based on the pendulum-like movement of monkeys swinging from tree to tree. The gravity-based locomotion enables continuous movement.

Brachiation robots now are inspecting high-voltage transmission towers and bridges, searching damaged buildings for survivors, and performing maintenance on pipelines and cables.

Fukuda retired from the university in 2013 and was named professor emeritus.

He didn’t stay retired for long, though. He next held a teaching appointment at Meijo University, in Nagoya, until he left in 2022 to join the Egypt-Japan University.

A prominent volunteer

He joined IEEE in 1980 at the encouragement of one of his research advisors, Professor Fumio Harashima, now an IEEE Life Fellow. After attending conferences and reading the organization’s publications, Fukuda says, he looked forward to becoming more involved.

“I wanted to know how to organize a conference and how to edit a paper for one of its Transactions,” he says. “I wanted to know what was going on from inside the organization, not just the outside.”

In 1988 he was the founding chair and organizer of IROS, in Tokyo. The conference had 330 attendees that year, and was supported by Harashima. Today it is one of the largest and most prestigious conferences on the topic, attracting more than 9,000 people annually. Out of 120,000 conferences, it was the only conference in the Nature Index database for this year, Fukuda says.

In 1996 he and other members launched IEEE Transactions on Mechatronics.

He was the founding president of the IEEE Nanotechnology Council, which was established in 2002. He is considered a pioneer in nanotechnology research, particularly regarding how it relates to robotics.

Over the years, he has held numerous volunteer positions on IEEE editorial boards and committees.

He was the 1998–1999 president of the IEEE Robotics and Automation Society, becoming the first non-U.S. member to hold the title.

He was director of IEEE Division X (2001–2002 and 2017–2018), which covers intelligent systems, biological engineering, robotics, control systems, and photonic technologies. He served as the 2013–2014 director of IEEE Region 10 (Asia-Pacific).

As the 2020 IEEE president, Fukuda saw the organization through the early part of the COVID-19 pandemic. Because of travel restrictions, he realized IEEE should change how it offered its in-person services, specifically educational programs. He encouraged IEEE Educational Activities to develop an online learning platform. The IEEE Learning Network started with just three courses and now offers nearly 2,000 courses, webinars, and learning materials.

An award-winning member

The Emberson Award joins a slew of other recognitions Fukuda has received from IEEE. They include several from the IEEE Robotics and Automation Society: a 2004 Pioneer Award, a 2009 Saridis Leadership Award, and the 2011 Harashima Award for Innovative Technologies. He is also a recipient of the Board-level 2010 IEEE Robotics and Automation Technical Field Award.

He says he feels strongly that IEEE should be a diverse organization that is welcoming to all. As IEEE president, he led efforts to devise a diversity, equity, and inclusion program. Several policies, procedures, and bylaws were revised to give members a safe, inclusive place for discourse.

“It’s important for IEEE to make everyone feel comfortable,” he says. “DEI programs are important. All people should be equal. IEEE doesn’t care who you are, what you do, what country you are from, or whether you are male or female. IEEE accepts people who have energy and passion.

“It accepted me, from the Far East. That’s why I like it.”

You can learn more about Fukuda and his career from the oral history conducted by the IEEE History Center.

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Many IEEE members who collect historical engineering artifacts often offer them to the IEEE History and Heritage group, which includes the IEEE History Center, to display. To bring these artifacts to the public, the group created the IEEE Global Museum, which curates traveling exhibits for display at conferences and in libraries, universities, and other venues.

The program educates people about how technological progress has unfolded over generations, and how engineers and researchers build on past achievements to benefit humanity.

Curating the exhibits has been rewarding, says Daniel Jon Mitchell, director of the group’s heritage programs.

“People tell me that they are genuinely moved by having history and artifacts explained to them in an accessible, intelligible way,” Mitchell says. “When people are moved and emotionally affected by what you’re doing, they’re going to remember that. And I think that’s part of the power of what we’re doing.”

The most recent traveling exhibit was on display in April in New York City during the IEEE Honors Ceremony, which celebrates engineering pioneers who have developed technologies that changed how people connect with the world. Attendees explored the Microchips That Shook the World exhibit, which drew inspiration from IEEE Spectrum’s Chip Hall of Fame. The exhibit conveys the roles integrated circuits play in fields such as signal processing, audio engineering, and telecommunications. The Commodore 64, one of the artifacts on display, stirred up treasured childhood memories for guests who had used the home computer.

Other exhibits have focused on early radio inventions and power and communications technologies.

The Global Museum works with IEEE societies to mark their anniversaries by interpreting and displaying pertinent items.

A tribute to radio pioneer Edwin Howard Armstrong

The idea of a traveling museum came to fruition in 2024 after Alexander Magoun, IEEE’s outreach historian, connected with Mike Molnar. The IEEE associate member owns one of six superheterodyne radio prototypes developed by Edwin Howard Armstrong, who probably is best known for inventing the FM radio system. Armstrong received the first IEEE Medal of Honor in 1917.

The radio converts incoming frequencies into a fixed, lower intermediate one using a local oscillator and a frequency mixer. The technology paved the way for modern electronic communications devices. The prototype became the focal point of the Global Museum’s flagship Unseen Signals: E. Howard Armstrong’s Radio Revolution exhibit, which celebrates the inventor’s life and his impact on the broadcasting industry and wireless communications.

“The radio prototype is one of the most incredible pieces that we could put on display,” Mitchell says. He and Magoun sourced other artifacts including an Audion used in Armstrong’s experiments on wireless signal amplification; a selection of consumer products that attempted to cash in on radio’s popularity, including a flour sifter and laxatives; and a Motorola Walkie-Talkie from the Korean War. They were from museums or private collectors along the East Coast of the United States.

“Aside from [Guglielmo] Marconi, Armstrong is the most significant contributor to the history of radio,” Mitchell says. “The exhibit is not only a biography but also a story of the cultural and political implications his work had.”

Visitors can play 15 short clips of past radio broadcasts covering politics, religion, sports, or another topic.

The Armstrong exhibit was unveiled in 2024 at the National Museum of Industrial History in Bethlehem, Pa.

The 93-square-meter exhibit is still traveling around the United States. It is on display until 15 August at the Pavek Museum, in St. Louis Park, Minn.

From 21 November until 9 May 2027, it is scheduled to be at the Museum of Innovation and Science in Schenectady, N.Y. Entry to the museum is free for IEEE members with a digital membership card.

Collaborating with IEEE societies

The IEEE History and Heritage group collaborates with IEEE societies to create exhibits for special events. In 2024 Mitchell curated an exhibit to celebrate the 75th anniversary of the IEEE Vehicular Technology Society and its 100th Vehicular Technology Conference. The Our Mobile World exhibit was launched at the conference, held in October in Washington, D.C.

“The society’s leadership helped me focus attention on key developments that meant a lot to its members,” Mitchell says.

“The IEEE Global Museum wants to present exhibits that connect with its audiences, whether these are IEEE members or the public,” he says. “Just knowing what was important historically doesn’t mean that this will resonate, so I really appreciated the insight.”

The exhibit’s artifacts included a Motorola DynaTac “brick” cellphone, a CB radio from the 1980s, and one of the earliest handheld GPS receivers. Visitors played an interactive game to test their knowledge spanning a century of wireless technology, motor vehicles, and mobile communication inventions.

Mitchell worked this year with the IEEE Dielectrics and Electrical Insulation Society to launch a virtual exhibit, Powering Up, which is available on the Global Museum website. It provides an overview of high-voltage power engineering, and it highlights the roles that manufacturers General Electric and Westinghouse played in making long-distance, high-voltage transmission of electrical power possible. Videos and photos of impulse generators and tests are featured in the exhibit.

Nvidia CEO and cofounder Jensen Huang, who received the 2026 IEEE Medal of Honor, exploring the Microchips That Shook the World exhibit.IEEE Conferences, Events & Experiences

One photo shows lightning arcing between high-voltage generators. Others show the impulse generators used at the 1939 World’s Fair in New York City, demonstrations of artificial lightning, and U.S. President Ronald Reagan visiting GE’s high-voltage laboratory in Pittsfield, Mass.

The history of microchips

The Unseen Signals exhibit was created for large venues, but the Microchips That Shook the World exhibit was designed to be displayed in different spaces, Mitchell says. Artifacts are premounted to ensure easy setup, and they’re encased in glass because many are rare.

Microchips are crucial for signal processing, audio engineering, and telecommunications, making them a point of interest despite their small size, Mitchell says. One rare artifact on display is the Kodak KAF-1300 image sensor. Invented in 1986, it was used in one of the earliest digital cameras made for photojournalists.

The KAF-1300’s image sensor chip “is credited with bringing digital cameras out of the laboratory,” Mitchell says. “Only around 500 were produced.”

Visitors can understand how transistors work, he says, by pressing buttons to turn them on and off.

“There are billions of transistors in modern microchips,” he notes, “and you can combine them in a way that performs logical functions.”

Unseen Signals, one of two identical exhibits, was curated by Mitchell and Stephen Cass, IEEE Spectrum’s special projects editor, with help from several Spectrum colleagues. Together, they served as on-site docents for guests at the IEEE Honors Ceremony.

The display also featured a preview of IEEE’s immersive “Inside the Microchip” video project, which delves beneath the silicon surface of Nvidia’s NV20 chip, using forensic photography and computer-generated renderings. The video, to be released this year, aims to teach middle school students about the microchips that are inside their gaming devices.

The exhibit was on display at the IEEE Electronic Components and Technology Conference, held in May in Orlando, Fla. Later this year, members will be able to visit it at the Computer History Museum in Mountain View, Calif., and the University of Waterloo, in Ontario, Canada.

The IEEE Global Museum is made possible thanks to donations to the IEEE Foundation.

The rapid expansion of artificial intelligence infrastructure is typically framed as an energy problem. Data centers are projected to consume a growing share of global electricity demand: The International Energy Agency estimates they could account for 3 to 4 percent of total global consumption within this decade.

Utilities are already adjusting long-term forecasts to accommodate anticipated growth from hyperscale facilities and high-density compute clusters.

This framing captures scale. It misses behavior.

The emerging issue is not simply how much power large-scale compute systems consume, but how increasingly dense and synchronized computational workloads are beginning to alter the operating characteristics of the electrical grid itself through increasingly unpredictable demand that varies rapidly in both time and location, creating new operational challenges for grid operators.

AI’s Capricious Energy Needs

Traditional grid planning assumes relatively predictable demand behavior. Industrial, commercial, and residential loads generally follow established profiles that can be forecast with reasonable accuracy. Even substantial demand growth has historically been manageable through reserve planning, transmission upgrades, and demand management programs.

Large-scale compute infrastructure introduces a different class of electrical load. Training—the computational task of making AI models—tends to be highly synchronized across clusters of GPUs, TPUs, and specialized accelerators operating in parallel, computationally dense, and relatively scheduled. Inference—the process of actually using those models—is generally more distributed and user-driven, making demand less predictable both in time and location. Both differ materially from traditional industrial demand profiles, though for different reasons. Unlike many conventional industrial processes, these workloads can ramp rapidly depending on model training cycles, distributed compute coordination, and workload scheduling strategies.

From the perspective of the grid, this is not simply higher demand. It is more abrupt demand. High-density compute workloads can produce substantial step changes in electricity consumption over extremely short intervals, including rapid fluctuations occurring within milliseconds. Data-center operators are already deploying mitigation technologies, including batteries, power-conditioning systems, and supercapacitors. Collectively, however, data centers’ rapid load changes can place additional stress on backup-generation reserves, systems that adjust supply as demand changes, frequency-control mechanisms that maintain grid stability, and local transmission infrastructure.

Compute-related variability differs from the intermittency introduced through renewable energy integration. Wind and solar variability originate primarily on the supply side and is tied to environmental conditions. Compute-related variability emerges on the demand side, driven by workload synchronization, scheduling behavior, and computational intensity. The interaction between increasingly dynamic supply and demand conditions introduces additional uncertainty into forecasting, reserve management, congestion planning, and balancing operations.

Research organizations including the National Renewable Energy Laboratory have emphasized the growing complexity associated with integrating highly dynamic resources into modern grid operations.

Location, Location, Location

The issue becomes more significant when compute activity is geographically concentrated. Large-scale data centers tend to cluster in regions with favorable conditions such as fiber connectivity, access to markets, tax incentives, and historically low electricity costs. Northern Virginia, often referred to as Data Center Alley, remains the most prominent example. The region hosts the world’s largest concentration of data centers and carries a substantial share of global internet traffic.

Utilities operating in these regions have already identified data-center growth as a primary driver of future load expansion. Virginia-based electricity supplier Dominion Energy, for example, has repeatedly highlighted hyperscale demand growth in its integrated resource planning documents.

Virginia has seen one of the largest data center buildouts worldwide. Here, Amazon Web Services and Iron Mountain data centers dominate the landscape in Manassas, Va. Nathan Howard/Bloomberg/Getty Images

A sudden increase in electricity consumption within a constrained geographic area can stress substations, transmission corridors, and local balancing operations even if the broader grid maintains sufficient aggregate capacity. This creates localized reliability challenges that are not always visible through system-wide demand metrics alone.

Thermal management systems further intensify these effects. Cooling infrastructure in high-density compute facilities must respond dynamically to changing workloads. As processing intensity rises, cooling demand rises as well, often nonlinearly. This coupling between compute and thermal systems means that fluctuations in workload can propagate through multiple layers of facility power consumption simultaneously.

High-density compute clusters may also introduce power-quality concerns at the local level. Large concentrations of accelerators, switching power supplies, and high-frequency compute equipment can generate harmonics and nonlinear load behavior that place additional stress on distribution infrastructure. While modern facilities incorporate mitigation technologies, the scale and concentration of next-generation compute facilities may require utilities and operators to revisit assumptions surrounding localized power conditioning, harmonics management, and infrastructure resilience. These conditions can also contribute to short-duration electrical transients that place additional stress on localized infrastructure and power-conditioning systems.

Regulations Need Updating

Part of the challenge is that many existing regulatory and operational frameworks were designed around relatively stable industrial demand profiles. Large rapidly fluctuating loads have historically been constrained because abrupt cycling can complicate balancing operations, increase stress on transmission equipment, and reduce predictability in system operations. High-density compute clusters do not fit neatly within those assumptions.

This creates pressure for both operational adaptation and regulatory reassessment.

Demand-response mechanisms may allow certain compute workloads to be shifted or curtailed during periods of system stress. Data-center operators are exploring flexible scheduling, battery storage, and behind-the-meter generation. Grid operators, meanwhile, are evaluating planning frameworks and interconnection approaches for increasingly large flexible loads.

The Electric Reliability Council of Texas (ERCOT), for example, has publicly acknowledged the growing implications of large flexible loads, including data centers, for long-term grid planning and operational stability. Interconnection queues across the United States continue to expand significantly, reflecting mounting pressure on both generation and transmission infrastructure. Grid expansion timelines, however, are measured in years rather than quarters.

This creates a structural mismatch. Compute infrastructure can scale rapidly. Electrical infrastructure generally cannot.

The broader implication is that large-scale compute infrastructure is not simply another industrial load category. It represents a shift in the temporal and spatial characteristics of electricity demand itself.

Framing the issue solely in terms of aggregate energy consumption risks overlooking these second-order operational effects. Capacity expansion alone does not fully address rapid ramping behavior, synchronization, localized congestion, transient instability, reserve compression, or increasingly demanding load-following requirements.

The challenge is not just how much electricity these systems consume. It is how they are beginning to change the operating conditions of the grid itself. The call is not to slow AI development but to recognize that hyperscale computing represents a new category of electrical demand. As AI infrastructure continues to scale, planning frameworks may need to account not only for total energy consumption but also for demand volatility, synchronization effects, and geographic concentration. Grid resilience will increasingly depend on understanding how these facilities consume power, not simply how much power they consume.

This article is crossposted from IEEE Spectrum’s careers newsletter. Sign up now to get insider tips, expert advice, and practical strategies, written in partnership with tech career development company Parsity and delivered to your inbox for free!

You want to become a senior developer. A CTO, maybe. Start your own company, perhaps. Or maybe you just want to land your first role in tech.

You will not get there from raw engineering skill alone.

There’s a skill that’s quietly essential to technical leadership and yet consistently overlooked: public speaking.

If you’re anything like I used to be, you’re already listing reasons not to. “I got into this to code, not to give presentations.” “I don’t want to lead.” “I’m too junior to speak about anything.” No, no, and no again. There’s a ceiling on the return from technical skill alone.

I was terrified of public speaking for the first three years of my career. I wanted to hide behind code, and for the most part it worked. I did my job and did it well.

Then I joined a startup where hiding wasn’t an option. The whole company was five people. I was one of two developers. I had to form opinions on our technical direction and defend them, and the CTO told me directly that I needed to speak up more.

A few things happened once I did. I took more pride in my work. I said some cringe-worthy stuff, lived through the mini-anxiety attacks, and got better. To my own disbelief, I’m now an engineering manager whose job is largely speaking to groups of developers and leading presentations, online and in person.

Here’s why this is worth your time:

Leadership. Communicating ideas clearly, influencing decisions, and aligning your team are core leadership functions, and they matter more the further you climb.

Visibility. Speaking lets you show your expertise, build a reputation, and connect with people who open doors to better roles.

Durability. As automation absorbs more routine technical work, skills rooted in human interaction and judgment are far harder to replace.

The good news is you can build this deliberately, in low-stakes steps.

Record yourself. Use a screen-recording tool to walk through your work, explain a concept, or narrate your code. You can edit, re-record, and over-think it as much as you want. That’s the point. It gets you comfortable on camera before the stakes are real.

Volunteer for demos. Next time you ship a feature or fix a bug, ask your manager for a short time slot to walk the team through it. No format for that on your team? Suggest a monthly lunch-and-learn and kick it off with a 15-minute lightning talk on something you know.

Start small—really small. If your anxiety is spiking, don’t jump into the deep end. In your next meeting, ask one question. Write it down beforehand if you have to. Then be the first to break the awkward silence when someone else asks one. Developers are a famously quiet bunch, so it doesn’t take much to stand out.

The further you grow, the more you’ll be expected to hold opinions and voice them publicly. So start now. Record yourself, ask questions, get uncomfortable, and notice that it gets easier every time you do it.

—Brian

War Taught this Ukrainian Entrepreneur the Value of Resilience

Salome Mikadze-Struk built her tech company Movadex as an undergraduate student at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic—then kept it running during the outbreak of war in her native Ukraine. Now, she’s channeling what she learned into mentoring tech founders and speaking about the importance of resilience as AI upends the software industry.

Read more here.

IEEE Rolls Out Large Language Models Virtual Training Course

LLMs are now part of many engineers’ daily workflow, and the demand for technical expertise in implementing and securing the models is rising. But to build tools that work consistently, developers must have a strong understanding of the core principles that govern how the models work. IEEE is now offering a five-course program to teach how to use LLMs effectively, starting with the fundamental engineering behind the technology.

Read more here.

Make an Origami Circuit Board

Two researchers at the City University of Hong Kong developed a method to make a circuit trace by simply bending a piece of paperlike material. With the right ingredients—isopropanol and liquid metal—you can make your own origami circuit board. The researchers also created a toolkit, called LiqMetCraft, with software tools and instructions to make it easy for beginners, whether in papercraft or electronics.

Read more here.

I started my professional journey as an engineer before moving into product strategy and innovation leadership roles for several global technology organizations. Over the years, I have served as a mentor for a variety of programs including Products That Count’s strategic product management, Women in Product mentorship initiatives, and Alchemist accelerator programs.

In 2024 and 2025 I led Walmart’s Women in Product mentorship program. I was responsible for designing and implementing the programs, including managing participant registration, matching mentors with mentees, and establishing clear standards for how they would interact.

Yet for much of my own early career, I never really had a mentor.

As an individual contributor engineer, I was focused on solving problems, delivering results, and figuring things out independently. I was hesitant to ask for help for fear of being judged for what I didn’t know.

Part of that was also temperament. I am naturally introverted.

That mindset rewarded me well. It made me self-reliant, resilient, and deeply driven. But it also had limits. Looking back, I now realize that believing I had to navigate everything alone was not always a strength. I sometimes wonder how many opportunities I missed simply because I never asked for help.

As I moved into product management and later strategy roles, I began collaborating with larger teams, departments, and organizations. The work itself became more cross-functional and people-centered. Over time, I started recognizing the value of mentorship, sponsorship, and collaborative growth in ways I had not appreciated earlier in my career.

I received valuable advice from different people at important moments throughout my career. Some helped me navigate conflict with more clarity. Others helped me communicate my contributions more effectively. And others gave me perspective on how to approach uncertainty, deal with organizational complexity, and avoid burnout.

But those moments were not the same as mentorship. They were valuable but infrequent interactions, not sustained relationships. No one consistently guided me through difficult decisions, advocated for me with decision-makers and senior leadership, or actively invested in my long-term growth.

My understanding of mentorship changed not as a mentee but as a mentor.

A leadership multiplier

Mentorship is often seen as an act of goodwill: admirable but optional. In reality, effective mentorship can be a competitive advantage for everyone involved.

For mentees, it can accelerate career growth, strengthen decision-making, and create access to opportunities that hard work alone does not always unlock.

Mentorship strengthens an individual’s leadership skills, empathy, and the ability to develop future talent.

For organizations, mentorship builds stronger leadership pipelines, more resilient teams, and healthier cultures of growth and trust.

By getting involved, I began to understand that meaningful mentorship is not simply occasional advice or career guidance. At its best, it is an active investment in another person’s growth. It includes advocacy, sponsorship, honest feedback, visibility, and sometimes helping people access opportunities they may not have reached on their own.

That is why mentorship should not be treated as kindness or incidental support. It is one of the most practical, hands-on, and personal forms of leadership.

Advocacy changes careers

Advice can help someone improve, but advocacy and sponsorship can change the direction of a career.

In many organizations, career growth depends not only on talent but also on access to honest feedback, influential networks, and sponsors willing to speak about someone’s potential when opportunities are discussed. Access also includes introductions to people who can recognize the value and impact of a person’s work.

Sometimes the difference between advice and true sponsorship is illustrated more clearly through stories rather than through leadership frameworks. In The Devil Wears Prada and its sequel Nigel’s relationship with Andy evolves far beyond workplace advice. In the 2006 movie, he helps her grow professionally, pushes her to envision a more expansive future, and guides her through an unfamiliar industry.

In the sequel—set two decades later—his investment in her success continues even though their careers diverge. When Andy (played by Anne Hathaway) is laid off during a difficult job market and struggles to find meaningful opportunities, Nigel (Stanley Tucci) quietly recommends her for a role at his firm. She is arguably overqualified for the position, but Nigel recognizes that it is the right opportunity at the right time. His recommendation helps her transition from a career in the news back into working in fashion. She can regain stability and ultimately rebuild career momentum. Over time, the opportunity becomes a turning point, reshaping her professional trajectory.

What makes it meaningful is not just the recommendation itself. It is that Nigel continued paying attention to her career growth over the years, believed in her potential, and supported her when she needed it.

That is what meaningful mentorship and sponsorship often look like in practice: not surface-level guidance but genuine investment in someone’s long-term growth and success.

When mentors provide that kind of support intentionally, mentorship becomes more than guidance. It becomes a competitive advantage—not only for the mentee but also for the mentor and the organization.

Why inclusive mentorship matters

Mentorship matters because talent alone does not shape a career. Access is important. In many workplaces, advancement depends not only on capability but on guidance, sponsorship, visibility, and informal knowledge about upcoming job opportunities.

Not everyone has equal access to such advantages. Research from McKinsey and Lean In suggests that women often receive less mentorship, sponsorship, and career support than men do, even in organizations that publicly emphasize inclusion and leadership development.

When mentorship is left entirely to informal networks, opportunity often becomes uneven. And when it’s left to chance, opportunity also is uneven.

That’s why inclusive mentorship matters. It creates a more intentional way to support people who might otherwise be overlooked.

What great mentors require

“A mentor is someone who allows you to see the hope inside yourself,” Oprah Winfrey once said.

Great mentorship is not about having all the answers. It’s about showing up with intention. It means listening closely, being candid, and helping someone grow with more confidence and clarity.

The best mentors respect their mentees’ time. They come prepared and listen for what is needed rather than rushing to give advice. They are open about their successes and failures because honesty builds trust faster than polished stories do. Great mentors tailor their guidance to the individual and encourage growth while also creating accountability.

Above all, good mentors create a psychologically safe space. They make it easier for mentees to ask difficult questions, test or pitch ideas, and talk openly about issues without fear of being judged. Growth usually starts at that point.

Organizations have a role to play as well. If mentorship matters, the program should be visible and supported.

That can mean including it in stated expectations of leaders, creating ways to connect mentors and mentees, providing mentorship training, and recognizing outcomes that go beyond performance metrics.

It also can mean broadening the understanding of mentorship. Peer mentorship, cross-functional mentorship, and even cross-industry mentorship can play important roles.

The leadership gap many organizations ignore

Promoting mentorship should not involve forcing artificial relationships or turning an employee’s growth into a line on someone’s to-do list. Organizations ought to promote the idea that leaders should invest in others, helping to build stronger teams, more capable leaders, and more organizational resiliency.

At a minimum, organizations should ask mentors whether they helped their mentee grow in their career and whether the mentee became more confident, capable, or prepared as a result of the relationship. Did they help junior employees navigate the organization more effectively? What opportunities did they create or find to give the mentees more visibility? Did they help mentees develop communication, leadership, or decision-making skills?

Those questions might be hard to quantify, but they get close to the substance of leadership.

Legacy is built through people

People might remember the strategies a leader shaped, the products the leader created, or the financial targets that were hit. Such accomplishments matter, of course. But another part of leadership lasts longer. It lives in the coworkers whose careers were advanced because someone took the time to invest in them.

This article is brought to you by Melbourne Convention Bureau (MCB) supported by Business Events Australia.

As artificial intelligence accelerates global demand for compute, a parallel constraint is emerging with equal urgency: energy.

From hyperscale data centers to electrified industries, AI is driving a step change in electricity demand. This is not a future challenge, it is a present, system-level issue requiring coordinated action across energy, infrastructure, and engineering disciplines.

Around the world, the question is no longer whether AI will scale, but whether energy systems can scale with it.

Melbourne, Australia is moving beyond participation to become a globally connected leader helping define how these challenges are addressed.

A national challenge with global implications

Australia’s ambition to lead in artificial intelligence is sharpening focus on the infrastructure required to support it. Data centers are projected to account for up to 11 percent of the nation’s electricity consumption by 2035, placing increasing pressure on generation, transmission, and system reliability.

At the same time, insight from the IEEE Power and Energy Society (PES) highlights that meeting energy demand from AI and digital infrastructure is one of the most significant challenges facing engineers over the next decade.

The implications are clear. In addition to computing challenges, AI poses major energy systems challenges.

“As artificial intelligence continues to scale globally, the challenge is no longer just computational power, it is the energy systems required to support it” —Professor Thas (Ampalavanapillai) Nirmalathas, University of Melbourne

Why Melbourne is leading on the global stage

Victoria has developed one of the most advanced and integrated energy ecosystems in Australia and globally, spanning renewable generation, battery storage, grid modernization, and advanced materials.

What distinguishes Melbourne globally is how these capabilities are connected and applied at system scale.

The city brings together world class engineering research, a rapidly evolving clean energy sector, advanced digital infrastructure, and strong alignment between government, industry, and academia. This convergence is critical in the AI era, where energy, networks and computing systems must be designed together.

Victoria’s coordinated investment across these areas is positioning Melbourne not only as a national leader, but also as a reference point in the global energy system transformation.

Engineering the systems behind the AI economy

The challenge ahead is that generating more power won’t be enough, as engineers need to design systems that respond dynamically to new patterns of demand.

Three priorities are emerging globally:

• Aligning data center development with grid capacity and renewable supply
• Embedding flexibility through storage, demand response, and system optimization
• Balancing digital growth with decarbonization and long-term reliability

Addressing these priorities requires engineering expertise to be embedded earlier in planning ensuring energy systems, digital infrastructure, and policy are designed in parallel.

Melbourne’s strength lies in its ability to integrate this expertise across research, infrastructure, and real-world application.

Melbourne Connect is a University of Melbourne–led innovation precinct, supported by government and industry, designed to bring together research, business and policy to deliver real-world solutions.Atlantic Group

Research leadership shaping global solutions

At the centre of this capability is the University of Melbourne, where interdisciplinary research is advancing the systems required to support AI driven energy demand.

Through the Melbourne Energy Institute, for example, researchers are examining how energy technologies interact across entire systems from generation and networks through to end use.

“As artificial intelligence continues to scale globally, the challenge is no longer just computational power, it is the energy systems required to support it,” says Professor Thas (Ampalavanapillai) Nirmalathas, Dean of the Faculty of Engineering and Information Technology at the University of Melbourne.

“This is driving a new level of convergence between digital infrastructure and power systems engineering, where integrated, system level thinking is essential.”

Converging energy, networks and AI

Melbourne’s leadership is further strengthened by world-class interdisciplinary facilities such as the Smart Grid Lab in the Department of Electrical and Electronic Engineering, which enables real-time simulation of power systems, allowing engineers to test how solar, batteries, electric vehicles and other distributed resources interact within future grids. This supports the design of more resilient, efficient energy systems before they are deployed at scale.

Melbourne’s Smart Grid Lab in the Department of Electrical and Electronic Engineering enables real-time simulation of power systems. University of Melbourne

These capabilities will become increasingly important as data centers are integrated into the grid.

“AI driven demand is not only increasing computing requirements, but also placing new pressures on underlying energy systems,” says Glen Farivar, Senior Lecturer in Power Electronics at the University of Melbourne. “Designing these systems together is essential to achieving both performance and sustainability outcomes.”

This reflects a critical shift. Future infrastructure must be co designed across energy and digital systems, not developed in isolation.

A living ecosystem delivering real-world outcomes

Victoria’s broader energy ecosystem is translating these insights into practice.

Investment in renewable energy, grid infrastructure and storage is enabling higher levels of clean energy while maintaining reliability. Battery deployment is supporting the flexibility needed to manage both renewable variability and growing AI-driven demand.

At its core, Melbourne offers an integrated environment where research, industry and government collaborate to solve complex system challenges.

Why engineering collaboration matters

Solving the energy demands of the AI era cannot be achieved in isolation.

It requires engineers, researchers, utilities, and policymakers to work together earlier and more often. More than ever, engineering collaboration is a critical enabler of future energy systems.

Environments that bring together global expertise are becoming essential to how solutions are designed and delivered.

“Developing future energy systems that are affordable, sustainable, and resilient is a truly grand challenge” —Professor Pierluigi Mancarella, University of Melbourne

In this context, the University of Melbourne is co-leading, alongside Johns Hopkins University and Imperial College London, one of only seven Global Centres in Climate Change and Clean Energy. Through the Electric Power Innovation for a Carbon Free Society (EPICS) Centre, the University is also the Australian technical lead in advancing future energy systems, with EPICS the only Global Centre focused on future energy infrastructure.

The new Electric Power Innovation for a Carbon-Free Society (EPICS) Centre will address challenges in clean energy production and storage.University of Melbourne

“Developing future energy systems that are affordable, sustainable, and resilient is a truly grand challenge,” says Professor Pierluigi Mancarella, Chair Professor of Electrical Power Systems at the University of Melbourne and Australian director and international co-director of EPICS.

“As electricity grids are increasingly becoming the backbone of future energy systems, optimizing their interactions with other sectors, including AI and digitalization, and fostering interdisciplinary and international collaborations are essential,” he adds.

Global conferences as part of the solution

International conferences are increasingly recognized as critical platforms for advancing engineering solutions at scale. Melbourne’s ability to convene global expertise is central to its leadership.

In 2027, the city will host the IEEE PES Generation Transmission and Distribution (GTD) Asia 2027 Conference and Exposition, bringing together engineers, utilities, researchers and policymakers from across the world to address the challenges shaping the future of power systems.

IEEE PES GTD Asia 2027 Melbourne Committee (left to right): Dr. Mehdi Ghazavi Dozein (Monash University), Dr. Glen Farivar & Professor Pierluigi Mancarella (University of Melbourne) , Dr. Mohammad Mohammadi (Australian Energy Market Operator (AEMO)).MCB

“Melbourne offers a unique environment where world-class research, industry capability and policy leadership come together,” notes the IEEE PES GTD Asia 2027 Local Organising Committee, which includes Professor Pierluigi Mancarella and Dr. Glen Farivar from the University of Melbourne, as well as Dr. Mehdi Ghazavi Dozein of Monash University and Dr. Mohammad Mohammadi of the Australian Energy Market Operator.

“Hosting this event creates an opportunity to advance global collaboration on the systems and technologies required to deliver the energy transition at scale.”

These forums enable knowledge exchange, standards development and interdisciplinary collaboration, accelerating progress on complex engineering challenges.

Attendees view a digital installation at AIME 2025 at Melbourne Connect.MCB

Why Melbourne, and why now

As AI, electrification and digital infrastructure converge, the future of global energy systems will depend on the ability of engineers to collaborate and innovate at scale.

Melbourne provides a proven platform for that collaboration, combining world-class research, a rapidly evolving energy ecosystem, and the infrastructure to connect global expertise.

Melbourne Convention Bureau, IEEE Communications Society, and University of Melbourne Representatives.University of Melbourne

For IEEE members, hosting a conference in Melbourne is more than an event decision.

It is an opportunity to engage with a globally connected engineering community and contribute directly to solving one of the most significant challenges facing the profession today.

Through the support of the Melbourne Convention Bureau, professionals can access tailored, free support to bid for and deliver international conferences, bringing global expertise together in a city actively shaping the future of energy systems.

To explore hosting your next conference in Melbourne, contact the Melbourne Convention Bureau at info@melbournecb.com.

“The lowest-cost place to put AI will be in space, and that will be true within two years, maybe three at the latest,” SpaceX founder Elon Musk told the World Economic Forum in Davos this past January, as his company was preparing to go public.

Later that month, SpaceX filed an application with the Federal Communications Commission for an orbital data center constellation of up to 1 million satellites in low Earth orbit, 500 to 2,000 kilometers above Earth. And just three days before the IPO, he discussed some initial design specifications for a new AI-1 satellite data center in a video interview.

Musk is prone to hyperbole when it comes to timelines. Full self-driving cars by 2017. First human mission to Mars in 2024. Ten thousand Optimus humanoid robots by the end of 2025. Et cetera. For orbital data centers, which he says will be a cost-effective alternative to terrestrial data centers within three years, the math won’t make sense for several years, if ever.

Consider this: There are roughly 14,500 active satellites in orbit. Musk’s Starlink constellation accounts for about two thirds of those. Both the launch cadences and satellite-manufacturing capacity would have to scale up astronomically to deploy a million orbital data center satellites.

For context, there have been roughly 7,000 orbital launches in all of human history. To loft 1 million satellites into low Earth orbit on SpaceX’s Starship, which is designed to carry up to 60 satellites per vehicle, would require 16,666 launches exclusively devoted to satellite deployments. Considering that SpaceX launched a record 165 orbital missions in 2025, even at 10 times that cadence, it would take a decade. And how long would it take to build 1 million satellites, given Starlink’s current pace of around 4,000 per year and a generous tenfold increase in capacity? Short of a manufacturing revolution, try 25 years.

The reality is that the vision of massive constellations of orbital data centers is nowhere close to being realized.

As this month’s cover story, “Why Orbital Data Centers Are So Hard” by Andrew Cavalier of ABI Research, makes clear, the reality is that the vision of massive constellations of orbital data centers is nowhere close to being realized.

Dina Genkina, IEEE Spectrum’s computing and hardware editor, put the idea into perspective: “Starcloud (a startup that has applied to the FCC for an 88,000 orbital data center satellite constellation) sent one Nvidia H100 GPU in space so far. Their radiator was too weak to let the chip run at full power.”

As Cavalier shows, cooling even a single Nvidia H100 GPU in space is difficult: It draws 700 watts, which will require 1.4 square meters of radiator at 60 °C. A 40-kilowatt rack of servers will need an 80-m² radiator; a 100-megawatt data center will require 2,500 of those radiators. Some astronomers are understandably concerned that a million satellites with giant radiative wings would blot out the stars.

So if the economics doesn’t make sense, if the chips are at the mercy of the radiative ravages of space, and if humanity will lose its view of the stars, not to mention increasing the risk of triggering the Kessler syndrome, why are the hyperscalers hyping orbital data centers?

Genkina offered the obvious answer: sweet, sweet moolah. “The Elon Musk part of it is honestly genius because he’s got xAI building the data centers, SpaceX sending them to space, and Tesla building solar panels,” Genkina says. “It’s almost like he’s paying himself.”

Two Analyst’s Views of SpaceX’s Proposed AI1 Data Center Satellite

Michael Pierce, Principal at Technology Strategy Partners

Musk’s timelines are notoriously overly ambitious, but I think SpaceX’s orbital data centers might reach cost parity with terrestrial data centers in 5 to 10 years. The Starlink laser-link network already exists as the communication backbone for any SpaceX compute constellation, and that infrastructure is what no new entrant can replicate quickly. The chip-agnostic payload design probably reflects their disclosed difficulty securing AI silicon as much as any modularity philosophy. My view is that the only realistic near-term application is a SpaceX mega-constellation for inference. Training workloads likely cannot tolerate the synchronization and latency constraints of a distributed orbital system.

Our report analyzed the market from the integrator’s vantage point, but AI1 is what it looks like when one player has assembled all the necessary advantages simultaneously. The question is whether the terrestrial data center industrial base will degrade or improve on economics. I don’t have insight into SpaceX’s internal costs, as opposed to public pricing, on all their components, so it’s hard to say if they’ll completely dominate or not. Even if they are not cost competitive with terrestrial data centers for another 5 to 10 years, it may simply be faster to get new compute that just happens to be in space.

Matt Hasan, AI strategist and independent consultant

My initial view is that AI1 does not fundamentally change the rationale for space-based data centers as much as it changes the timeline and scale. The underlying drivers remain the same: escalating AI compute demand, growing power constraints on terrestrial grids, and the desire to colocate energy generation with computation.

What AI1 does signal is that the concept is beginning to move from theoretical discussion toward engineering and capital allocation decisions. The announcement adds credibility to the idea that hyperscale computing infrastructure may eventually expand beyond terrestrial constraints rather than simply competing for increasingly scarce grid capacity on Earth.

That said, significant economic and technical questions remain. Launch costs, maintenance, hardware replacement cycles, thermal management, latency-sensitive workloads, and overall system economics will ultimately determine whether space-based data centers become a mainstream extension of AI infrastructure or remain a niche capability for specialized applications. The key development is not that these questions have been resolved, but that major industry players now appear willing to invest resources toward answering them.

In the 1970s, American Fireworks, a family-run pyrotechnics company in Hudson, Ohio, used a “home run box” to offer quick and easy fireworks displays for the Cleveland Indians (now the Cleveland Guardians) baseball games.

The red wooden crate had metal silos to store the rockets. Each switch on the control panel allowed the operator to set off a different firing sequence. This setup instantly triggered the display whenever a Cleveland batter hit a home run. Before computerized firing systems became common, panels like this represented the state of the art. But they did not eliminate human error. On 15 September 2015, the technician in charge of the Indians’ pyrotechnics accidentally set off the fireworks when the opposing team hit a home run. The embarrassed technician was caught on camera holding his head in his hands.

This home run box and control panel [left] were used to launch fireworks during Cleveland Indians games. The rockets were housed in metal silos within the box.Left: Jahna Auerbach/Science History Institute; Right: American Fireworks

The Early History of Fireworks

Fireworks are one of the many Song Dynasty inventions that migrated from China through the Middle East and into Europe by way of trade routes. Around 200 B.C.E, the Chinese invented small firecrackers by simply tossing pieces of bamboo into a fire. The air inside the bamboo would expand and crack the wood, and the pop supposedly scared away evil spirits. After the invention of gunpowder—a mixture of sulfur, charcoal, and potassium nitrate—about a thousand years later, some clever person thought to pack the powder into the bamboo tubes and ignite them, launching the first fireworks—and the first rockets—into the sky.

John Bate’s popular 1634 book on fireworks described fire wheels [left] and a flying dragon [right], consisting of a dragon-shaped rocket that sped along a rope. SSPL/Getty Images

By the Renaissance, specialized schools for pyrotechnics had emerged across Italian city-states, and European craftsmen began creating large spectacles for royal occasions and religious celebrations. In 1634, John Bate published the four-volume series The Mysteries of Nature and Art, the second of which described how to create all manner of fireworks. Woodcut illustrations showed fire wheels (now called pinwheels or Catherine wheels), as well as the more ambitious flying dragon—a rocket shaped like a dragon that emitted sparks while speeding across a rope strung between two buildings.

During the 18th and 19th centuries, chemists and alchemists discovered new chemical compounds and isolated new elements that expanded the palette for fireworks. Adding barium nitrate produced green, for example, and strontium nitrate produced red. Chemists also mixed in metal particles to create sparkles.

The 1880s saw the introduction of the loud screech or whistle that precedes the exploding boom. Amédée Denisse, a graphic artist by trade and a fireworks hobbyist, discovered that a cardboard tube containing potassium picrate added that satisfying auditory effect to his fireworks display.

How Did Fireworks Become a 4th of July Tradition?

British colonists brought fireworks to the Americas. In 1608, Captain John Smith set them off to celebrate the founding of Jamestown, Virginia, the first permanent English settlement in what would become the United States. More than a century and a half later, while the Continental Congress was meeting in Philadelphia in July 1776, future U.S. president John Adams speculated in a letter to his wife that Independence Day would be celebrated “with pomp and parade, with shews, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires and illuminations from one end of this continent to the other.”

Although Adams got the day wrong—he mistakenly thought the committee would complete the revisions to the Declaration of Independence by the 2nd of July—he was correct in foreseeing that Independence Day would be celebrated with lots and lots of fireworks. Just a year later, on 5 July 1777, the Pennsylvania Evening Post reported on the grand exhibition of fireworks the previous night, which began and concluded with 13 rockets representing the 13 colonies.

It’s safe to say that the United States is still obsessed with fireworks. According to the American Pyrotechnics Association, the country spends about US $3 billion on fireworks each year; it’s also the leading importer of fireworks. As the U.S. gears up to celebrate its 250th birthday this 4th of July, expect to see fireworks displays everywhere, from kids with sparklers running in backyards to ambitious professional displays for huge crowds.

Modern fireworks displays like the Macy’s 4th of July celebration in New York City are computer choreographed and controlled. Roy Rochlin/Getty Images

Fireworks today are an engineering marvel. State-of-the-art displays are computer controlled with precise digital timing, often tied to musical accompaniment. Designers can spend weeks choreographing complicated patterns and assigning launch times, shell types, and colors. The completed script is uploaded to an electronic firing system, which consists of the control panel and hundreds or thousands of firing modules that connect to the rockets. It can take days to set up the launch site for a large-scale display that lasts just minutes.

For example, last year more than 60 licensed pyrotechnicians worked for 12 days to arrange more than 80,000 shells for the Macy’s 4th of July Fireworks in New York City. Each of the firework shells measured up to 25 centimeters in diameter and weighed more than 13 kilograms—a far cry from their bamboo ancestors. More than 120 kilometers of wire connected the bundles of explosives to twelve computers. All that for a 25-minute display.

As much as I unabashedly love fireworks, they’re not for everyone and they do have a downside. The explosions can trigger PTSD for military veterans, and they can also upset animals. Every year, thousands of people are injured by mishandled or damaged fireworks. Known to set off wildfires, fireworks are often banned during droughts. Scientists who’ve studied the environmental impact of fireworks displays have noted their tendency to disperse airborne metallic particles and other harmful particulates.

A drone light show over Busan, South Korea, shows a member of the K-pop band BTS.Hwawon Ceci Lee/Anadolu/Getty Images

Perhaps to counter those drawbacks, or maybe it’s just the next technological evolution in aerial display, companies are now offering drone light shows. Fleets of hundreds or thousands of LED-toting drones can be programmed to hover in the air and fly in formation, forming logos and other designs that are more stable than exploding fireworks.

These exquisitely choreographed light shows are truly impressive. And yet I relish the full sensory experience of fireworks, including the booms, the smoke, and the smell. So whether you’re celebrating your country’s birth, Guy Fawkes Day, Saint Sylvester’s Night, New Year’s, Diwali, or simply cheering a home run from your favorite team, I hope you get to enjoy this millennia-old technological marvel.

Part of a continuing series looking at historical artifacts that embrace the boundless potential of technology.

An abridged version of this article appears in the July 2026 print issue as “Rooting for the Home Team.”

References

The American Pyrotechnics Association is a professional organization that encourages safety in design and use of all types of fireworks, provides industry support, and promotes responsible regulation.

Barry Sturman and David Garrioch’s 2023 article “Amateur Science and Innovation in Fireworks in Nineteenth-Century Europe,” in the journal Ambix, provides a detailed history of the development of fireworks. Kathy De Antonis’s 2010 article “Fireworks!” for a publication of the American Chemical Society explains the colors, shapes, and packaging of modern fireworks.

If you happen to find yourself in Philadelphia before the end of July, check out the Science History Institute’s exhibit Flash! Bang! Boom! A History of Fireworks, which is part of the U.S. celebrations around the semiquincentennial. The home run box shown in this article is part of the institute’s collections.

He was born into a storm, lightning split the summer sky, in a
village the world had not yet heard of.
The midwife called it a bad omen, his mother called it a sign. Your first
life began in a storm, under open sky.

One winter night you ran your hand along a cat’s back, and the
darkness cracked open with sparks.
Your mother warned the house could burn.
You were already chasing what you learned: Light would return.

Your second life came underwater, in the current deep. No light,
no air, the river pulling you under,
the surface closing above you without a sound, and
something in you refused to sink or sleep.

Your third life came at the dam.
The water rose. The wall held you in place.
One flash, you turned your body and rose back into air, and left
the weight of water without a trace.

Your fourth life came in stone and dark. Entombed for a
night in a mountain chapel,
visited by no one. Only silence and the memory of a spark. You called
it an awful experience and left it there, untold.

Your fifth life came in fever,
nine months cholera held you down,
until your father said: Survive, and choose your own ground. You rose.
Not from the prayer, but from the promise he made.

Your sixth life came in silence, and it stayed.
Every sound cut through you, a clock three rooms away,
a ringing that would not leave, a noise you learned to bear, until you
lived inside that noise and made a home in there.

Your seventh life burned on Fifth Avenue, not your body, but your work. Not a thief
of fire, but one who stayed with the blaze.
A modern Prometheus, your life’s work turned to ash,
“I must begin again,” you said, and turned to new ways.

Your eighth life came in the street.
No storm. No warning. A taxi struck without a sign. A
sudden impact: ribs breaking, breath gone.
No diagram this time. Only the body, slow to keep up.

The ninth life came on quiet wings.
That dove found you in the dark, and your spirit rose. She did
not move. A beam of light fell from above.
The life you would not return from, the one you loved.

Your mother thought you had nine lives, nine close
brushes with death.
Each close call, a lesson. A hand that would lead you out of the
darkness and into the dynamo of eternal light. The world profits
from the mystery of your mind,
Upon your imagination we stand.

Andrew Ng has serious street cred in artificial intelligence. He pioneered the use of graphics processing units (GPUs) to train deep learning models in the late 2000s with his students at Stanford University, cofounded Google Brain in 2011, and then served for three years as chief scientist for Baidu, where he helped build the Chinese tech giant’s AI group. So when he says he has identified the next big shift in artificial intelligence, people listen. And that’s what he told IEEE Spectrum in an exclusive Q&A.

Ng’s current efforts are focused on his company Landing AI, which built a platform called LandingLens to help manufacturers improve visual inspection with computer vision. He has also become something of an evangelist for what he calls the data-centric AI movement, which he says can yield “small data” solutions to big issues in AI, including model efficiency, accuracy, and bias.

Andrew Ng on...

• What’s next for really big models
• The career advice he didn’t listen to
• Defining the data-centric AI movement
• Synthetic data
• Why Landing AI asks its customers to do the work

The great advances in deep learning over the past decade or so have been powered by ever-bigger models crunching ever-bigger amounts of data. Some people argue that that’s an unsustainable trajectory. Do you agree that it can’t go on that way?

Andrew Ng: This is a big question. We’ve seen foundation models in NLP [natural language processing]. I’m excited about NLP models getting even bigger, and also about the potential of building foundation models in computer vision. I think there’s lots of signal to still be exploited in video: We have not been able to build foundation models yet for video because of compute bandwidth and the cost of processing video, as opposed to tokenized text. So I think that this engine of scaling up deep learning algorithms, which has been running for something like 15 years now, still has steam in it. Having said that, it only applies to certain problems, and there’s a set of other problems that need small data solutions.

When you say you want a foundation model for computer vision, what do you mean by that?

Ng: This is a term coined by Percy Liang and some of my friends at Stanford to refer to very large models, trained on very large data sets, that can be tuned for specific applications. For example, GPT-3 is an example of a foundation model [for NLP]. Foundation models offer a lot of promise as a new paradigm in developing machine learning applications, but also challenges in terms of making sure that they’re reasonably fair and free from bias, especially if many of us will be building on top of them.

What needs to happen for someone to build a foundation model for video?

Ng: I think there is a scalability problem. The compute power needed to process the large volume of images for video is significant, and I think that’s why foundation models have arisen first in NLP. Many researchers are working on this, and I think we’re seeing early signs of such models being developed in computer vision. But I’m confident that if a semiconductor maker gave us 10 times more processor power, we could easily find 10 times more video to build such models for vision.

Having said that, a lot of what’s happened over the past decade is that deep learning has happened in consumer-facing companies that have large user bases, sometimes billions of users, and therefore very large data sets. While that paradigm of machine learning has driven a lot of economic value in consumer software, I find that that recipe of scale doesn’t work for other industries.

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It’s funny to hear you say that, because your early work was at a consumer-facing company with millions of users.

Ng: Over a decade ago, when I proposed starting the Google Brain project to use Google’s compute infrastructure to build very large neural networks, it was a controversial step. One very senior person pulled me aside and warned me that starting Google Brain would be bad for my career. I think he felt that the action couldn’t just be in scaling up, and that I should instead focus on architecture innovation.

“In many industries where giant data sets simply don’t exist, I think the focus has to shift from big data to good data. Having 50 thoughtfully engineered examples can be sufficient to explain to the neural network what you want it to learn.”
—Andrew Ng, CEO & Founder, Landing AI

I remember when my students and I published the first NeurIPS workshop paper advocating using CUDA, a platform for processing on GPUs, for deep learning—a different senior person in AI sat me down and said, “CUDA is really complicated to program. As a programming paradigm, this seems like too much work.” I did manage to convince him; the other person I did not convince.

I expect they’re both convinced now.

Ng: I think so, yes.

Over the past year as I’ve been speaking to people about the data-centric AI movement, I’ve been getting flashbacks to when I was speaking to people about deep learning and scalability 10 or 15 years ago. In the past year, I’ve been getting the same mix of “there’s nothing new here” and “this seems like the wrong direction.”

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How do you define data-centric AI, and why do you consider it a movement?

Ng: Data-centric AI is the discipline of systematically engineering the data needed to successfully build an AI system. For an AI system, you have to implement some algorithm, say a neural network, in code and then train it on your data set. The dominant paradigm over the last decade was to download the data set while you focus on improving the code. Thanks to that paradigm, over the last decade deep learning networks have improved significantly, to the point where for a lot of applications the code—the neural network architecture—is basically a solved problem. So for many practical applications, it’s now more productive to hold the neural network architecture fixed, and instead find ways to improve the data.

When I started speaking about this, there were many practitioners who, completely appropriately, raised their hands and said, “Yes, we’ve been doing this for 20 years.” This is the time to take the things that some individuals have been doing intuitively and make it a systematic engineering discipline.

The data-centric AI movement is much bigger than one company or group of researchers. My collaborators and I organized a data-centric AI workshop at NeurIPS, and I was really delighted at the number of authors and presenters that showed up.

You often talk about companies or institutions that have only a small amount of data to work with. How can data-centric AI help them?

Ng: You hear a lot about vision systems built with millions of images—I once built a face recognition system using 350 million images. Architectures built for hundreds of millions of images don’t work with only 50 images. But it turns out, if you have 50 really good examples, you can build something valuable, like a defect-inspection system. In many industries where giant data sets simply don’t exist, I think the focus has to shift from big data to good data. Having 50 thoughtfully engineered examples can be sufficient to explain to the neural network what you want it to learn.

When you talk about training a model with just 50 images, does that really mean you’re taking an existing model that was trained on a very large data set and fine-tuning it? Or do you mean a brand new model that’s designed to learn only from that small data set?

Ng: Let me describe what Landing AI does. When doing visual inspection for manufacturers, we often use our own flavor of RetinaNet. It is a pretrained model. Having said that, the pretraining is a small piece of the puzzle. What’s a bigger piece of the puzzle is providing tools that enable the manufacturer to pick the right set of images [to use for fine-tuning] and label them in a consistent way. There’s a very practical problem we’ve seen spanning vision, NLP, and speech, where even human annotators don’t agree on the appropriate label. For big data applications, the common response has been: If the data is noisy, let’s just get a lot of data and the algorithm will average over it. But if you can develop tools that flag where the data’s inconsistent and give you a very targeted way to improve the consistency of the data, that turns out to be a more efficient way to get a high-performing system.

“Collecting more data often helps, but if you try to collect more data for everything, that can be a very expensive activity.”
—Andrew Ng

For example, if you have 10,000 images where 30 images are of one class, and those 30 images are labeled inconsistently, one of the things we do is build tools to draw your attention to the subset of data that’s inconsistent. So you can very quickly relabel those images to be more consistent, and this leads to improvement in performance.

Could this focus on high-quality data help with bias in data sets? If you’re able to curate the data more before training?

Ng: Very much so. Many researchers have pointed out that biased data is one factor among many leading to biased systems. There have been many thoughtful efforts to engineer the data. At the NeurIPS workshop, Olga Russakovsky gave a really nice talk on this. At the main NeurIPS conference, I also really enjoyed Mary Gray’s presentation, which touched on how data-centric AI is one piece of the solution, but not the entire solution. New tools like Datasheets for Datasets also seem like an important piece of the puzzle.

One of the powerful tools that data-centric AI gives us is the ability to engineer a subset of the data. Imagine training a machine-learning system and finding that its performance is okay for most of the data set, but its performance is biased for just a subset of the data. If you try to change the whole neural network architecture to improve the performance on just that subset, it’s quite difficult. But if you can engineer a subset of the data you can address the problem in a much more targeted way.

When you talk about engineering the data, what do you mean exactly?

Ng: In AI, data cleaning is important, but the way the data has been cleaned has often been in very manual ways. In computer vision, someone may visualize images through a Jupyter notebook and maybe spot the problem, and maybe fix it. But I’m excited about tools that allow you to have a very large data set, tools that draw your attention quickly and efficiently to the subset of data where, say, the labels are noisy. Or to quickly bring your attention to the one class among 100 classes where it would benefit you to collect more data. Collecting more data often helps, but if you try to collect more data for everything, that can be a very expensive activity.

For example, I once figured out that a speech-recognition system was performing poorly when there was car noise in the background. Knowing that allowed me to collect more data with car noise in the background, rather than trying to collect more data for everything, which would have been expensive and slow.

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What about using synthetic data, is that often a good solution?

Ng: I think synthetic data is an important tool in the tool chest of data-centric AI. At the NeurIPS workshop, Anima Anandkumar gave a great talk that touched on synthetic data. I think there are important uses of synthetic data that go beyond just being a preprocessing step for increasing the data set for a learning algorithm. I’d love to see more tools to let developers use synthetic data generation as part of the closed loop of iterative machine learning development.

Do you mean that synthetic data would allow you to try the model on more data sets?

Ng: Not really. Here’s an example. Let’s say you’re trying to detect defects in a smartphone casing. There are many different types of defects on smartphones. It could be a scratch, a dent, pit marks, discoloration of the material, other types of blemishes. If you train the model and then find through error analysis that it’s doing well overall but it’s performing poorly on pit marks, then synthetic data generation allows you to address the problem in a more targeted way. You could generate more data just for the pit-mark category.

“In the consumer software Internet, we could train a handful of machine-learning models to serve a billion users. In manufacturing, you might have 10,000 manufacturers building 10,000 custom AI models.”
—Andrew Ng

Synthetic data generation is a very powerful tool, but there are many simpler tools that I will often try first. Such as data augmentation, improving labeling consistency, or just asking a factory to collect more data.

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To make these issues more concrete, can you walk me through an example? When a company approaches Landing AI and says it has a problem with visual inspection, how do you onboard them and work toward deployment?

Ng: When a customer approaches us we usually have a conversation about their inspection problem and look at a few images to verify that the problem is feasible with computer vision. Assuming it is, we ask them to upload the data to the LandingLens platform. We often advise them on the methodology of data-centric AI and help them label the data.

One of the foci of Landing AI is to empower manufacturing companies to do the machine learning work themselves. A lot of our work is making sure the software is fast and easy to use. Through the iterative process of machine learning development, we advise customers on things like how to train models on the platform, when and how to improve the labeling of data so the performance of the model improves. Our training and software supports them all the way through deploying the trained model to an edge device in the factory.

How do you deal with changing needs? If products change or lighting conditions change in the factory, can the model keep up?

Ng: It varies by manufacturer. There is data drift in many contexts. But there are some manufacturers that have been running the same manufacturing line for 20 years now with few changes, so they don’t expect changes in the next five years. Those stable environments make things easier. For other manufacturers, we provide tools to flag when there’s a significant data-drift issue. I find it really important to empower manufacturing customers to correct data, retrain, and update the model. Because if something changes and it’s 3 a.m. in the United States, I want them to be able to adapt their learning algorithm right away to maintain operations.

In the consumer software Internet, we could train a handful of machine-learning models to serve a billion users. In manufacturing, you might have 10,000 manufacturers building 10,000 custom AI models. The challenge is, how do you do that without Landing AI having to hire 10,000 machine learning specialists?

So you’re saying that to make it scale, you have to empower customers to do a lot of the training and other work.

Ng: Yes, exactly! This is an industry-wide problem in AI, not just in manufacturing. Look at health care. Every hospital has its own slightly different format for electronic health records. How can every hospital train its own custom AI model? Expecting every hospital’s IT personnel to invent new neural-network architectures is unrealistic. The only way out of this dilemma is to build tools that empower the customers to build their own models by giving them tools to engineer the data and express their domain knowledge. That’s what Landing AI is executing in computer vision, and the field of AI needs other teams to execute this in other domains.

Is there anything else you think it’s important for people to understand about the work you’re doing or the data-centric AI movement?

Ng: In the last decade, the biggest shift in AI was a shift to deep learning. I think it’s quite possible that in this decade the biggest shift will be to data-centric AI. With the maturity of today’s neural network architectures, I think for a lot of the practical applications the bottleneck will be whether we can efficiently get the data we need to develop systems that work well. The data-centric AI movement has tremendous energy and momentum across the whole community. I hope more researchers and developers will jump in and work on it.

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This article appears in the April 2022 print issue as “Andrew Ng, AI Minimalist.”

The end of Moore’s Law is looming. Engineers and designers can do only so much to miniaturize transistors and pack as many of them as possible into chips. So they’re turning to other approaches to chip design, incorporating technologies like AI into the process.

Samsung, for instance, is adding AI to its memory chips to enable processing in memory, thereby saving energy and speeding up machine learning. Speaking of speed, Google’s TPU V4 AI chip has doubled its processing power compared with that of its previous version.

But AI holds still more promise and potential for the semiconductor industry. To better understand how AI is set to revolutionize chip design, we spoke with Heather Gorr, senior product manager for MathWorks’ MATLAB platform.

How is AI currently being used to design the next generation of chips?

Heather Gorr: AI is such an important technology because it’s involved in most parts of the cycle, including the design and manufacturing process. There’s a lot of important applications here, even in the general process engineering where we want to optimize things. I think defect detection is a big one at all phases of the process, especially in manufacturing. But even thinking ahead in the design process, [AI now plays a significant role] when you’re designing the light and the sensors and all the different components. There’s a lot of anomaly detection and fault mitigation that you really want to consider.

Heather GorrMathWorks

Then, thinking about the logistical modeling that you see in any industry, there is always planned downtime that you want to mitigate; but you also end up having unplanned downtime. So, looking back at that historical data of when you’ve had those moments where maybe it took a bit longer than expected to manufacture something, you can take a look at all of that data and use AI to try to identify the proximate cause or to see something that might jump out even in the processing and design phases. We think of AI oftentimes as a predictive tool, or as a robot doing something, but a lot of times you get a lot of insight from the data through AI.

What are the benefits of using AI for chip design?

Gorr: Historically, we’ve seen a lot of physics-based modeling, which is a very intensive process. We want to do a reduced order model, where instead of solving such a computationally expensive and extensive model, we can do something a little cheaper. You could create a surrogate model, so to speak, of that physics-based model, use the data, and then do your parameter sweeps, your optimizations, your Monte Carlo simulations using the surrogate model. That takes a lot less time computationally than solving the physics-based equations directly. So, we’re seeing that benefit in many ways, including the efficiency and economy that are the results of iterating quickly on the experiments and the simulations that will really help in the design.

So it’s like having a digital twin in a sense?

Gorr: Exactly. That’s pretty much what people are doing, where you have the physical system model and the experimental data. Then, in conjunction, you have this other model that you could tweak and tune and try different parameters and experiments that let sweep through all of those different situations and come up with a better design in the end.

So, it’s going to be more efficient and, as you said, cheaper?

Gorr: Yeah, definitely. Especially in the experimentation and design phases, where you’re trying different things. That’s obviously going to yield dramatic cost savings if you’re actually manufacturing and producing [the chips]. You want to simulate, test, experiment as much as possible without making something using the actual process engineering.

We’ve talked about the benefits. How about the drawbacks?

Gorr: The [AI-based experimental models] tend to not be as accurate as physics-based models. Of course, that’s why you do many simulations and parameter sweeps. But that’s also the benefit of having that digital twin, where you can keep that in mind—it’s not going to be as accurate as that precise model that we’ve developed over the years.

Both chip design and manufacturing are system intensive; you have to consider every little part. And that can be really challenging. It’s a case where you might have models to predict something and different parts of it, but you still need to bring it all together.

One of the other things to think about too is that you need the data to build the models. You have to incorporate data from all sorts of different sensors and different sorts of teams, and so that heightens the challenge.

How can engineers use AI to better prepare and extract insights from hardware or sensor data?

Gorr: We always think about using AI to predict something or do some robot task, but you can use AI to come up with patterns and pick out things you might not have noticed before on your own. People will use AI when they have high-frequency data coming from many different sensors, and a lot of times it’s useful to explore the frequency domain and things like data synchronization or resampling. Those can be really challenging if you’re not sure where to start.

One of the things I would say is, use the tools that are available. There’s a vast community of people working on these things, and you can find lots of examples [of applications and techniques] on GitHub or MATLAB Central, where people have shared nice examples, even little apps they’ve created. I think many of us are buried in data and just not sure what to do with it, so definitely take advantage of what’s already out there in the community. You can explore and see what makes sense to you, and bring in that balance of domain knowledge and the insight you get from the tools and AI.

What should engineers and designers consider when using AI for chip design?

Gorr: Think through what problems you’re trying to solve or what insights you might hope to find, and try to be clear about that. Consider all of the different components, and document and test each of those different parts. Consider all of the people involved, and explain and hand off in a way that is sensible for the whole team.

How do you think AI will affect chip designers’ jobs?

Gorr: It’s going to free up a lot of human capital for more advanced tasks. We can use AI to reduce waste, to optimize the materials, to optimize the design, but then you still have that human involved whenever it comes to decision-making. I think it’s a great example of people and technology working hand in hand. It’s also an industry where all people involved—even on the manufacturing floor—need to have some level of understanding of what’s happening, so this is a great industry for advancing AI because of how we test things and how we think about them before we put them on the chip.

How do you envision the future of AI and chip design?

Gorr: It’s very much dependent on that human element—involving people in the process and having that interpretable model. We can do many things with the mathematical minutiae of modeling, but it comes down to how people are using it, how everybody in the process is understanding and applying it. Communication and involvement of people of all skill levels in the process are going to be really important. We’re going to see less of those superprecise predictions and more transparency of information, sharing, and that digital twin—not only using AI but also using our human knowledge and all of the work that many people have done over the years.

Quantum computing is a devilishly complex technology, with many technical hurdles impacting its development. Of these challenges two critical issues stand out: miniaturization and qubit quality.

IBM has adopted the superconducting qubit road map of reaching a 1,121-qubit processor by 2023, leading to the expectation that 1,000 qubits with today’s qubit form factor is feasible. However, current approaches will require very large chips (50 millimeters on a side, or larger) at the scale of small wafers, or the use of chiplets on multichip modules. While this approach will work, the aim is to attain a better path toward scalability.

Now researchers at MIT have been able to both reduce the size of the qubits and done so in a way that reduces the interference that occurs between neighboring qubits. The MIT researchers have increased the number of superconducting qubits that can be added onto a device by a factor of 100.

“We are addressing both qubit miniaturization and quality,” said William Oliver, the director for the Center for Quantum Engineering at MIT. “Unlike conventional transistor scaling, where only the number really matters, for qubits, large numbers are not sufficient, they must also be high-performance. Sacrificing performance for qubit number is not a useful trade in quantum computing. They must go hand in hand.”

The key to this big increase in qubit density and reduction of interference comes down to the use of two-dimensional materials, in particular the 2D insulator hexagonal boron nitride (hBN). The MIT researchers demonstrated that a few atomic monolayers of hBN can be stacked to form the insulator in the capacitors of a superconducting qubit.

Just like other capacitors, the capacitors in these superconducting circuits take the form of a sandwich in which an insulator material is sandwiched between two metal plates. The big difference for these capacitors is that the superconducting circuits can operate only at extremely low temperatures—less than 0.02 degrees above absolute zero (-273.15 °C).

Superconducting qubits are measured at temperatures as low as 20 millikelvin in a dilution refrigerator.Nathan Fiske/MIT

In that environment, insulating materials that are available for the job, such as PE-CVD silicon oxide or silicon nitride, have quite a few defects that are too lossy for quantum computing applications. To get around these material shortcomings, most superconducting circuits use what are called coplanar capacitors. In these capacitors, the plates are positioned laterally to one another, rather than on top of one another.

As a result, the intrinsic silicon substrate below the plates and to a smaller degree the vacuum above the plates serve as the capacitor dielectric. Intrinsic silicon is chemically pure and therefore has few defects, and the large size dilutes the electric field at the plate interfaces, all of which leads to a low-loss capacitor. The lateral size of each plate in this open-face design ends up being quite large (typically 100 by 100 micrometers) in order to achieve the required capacitance.

In an effort to move away from the large lateral configuration, the MIT researchers embarked on a search for an insulator that has very few defects and is compatible with superconducting capacitor plates.

“We chose to study hBN because it is the most widely used insulator in 2D material research due to its cleanliness and chemical inertness,” said colead author Joel Wang, a research scientist in the Engineering Quantum Systems group of the MIT Research Laboratory for Electronics.

On either side of the hBN, the MIT researchers used the 2D superconducting material, niobium diselenide. One of the trickiest aspects of fabricating the capacitors was working with the niobium diselenide, which oxidizes in seconds when exposed to air, according to Wang. This necessitates that the assembly of the capacitor occur in a glove box filled with argon gas.

While this would seemingly complicate the scaling up of the production of these capacitors, Wang doesn’t regard this as a limiting factor.

“What determines the quality factor of the capacitor are the two interfaces between the two materials,” said Wang. “Once the sandwich is made, the two interfaces are “sealed” and we don’t see any noticeable degradation over time when exposed to the atmosphere.”

This lack of degradation is because around 90 percent of the electric field is contained within the sandwich structure, so the oxidation of the outer surface of the niobium diselenide does not play a significant role anymore. This ultimately makes the capacitor footprint much smaller, and it accounts for the reduction in cross talk between the neighboring qubits.

“The main challenge for scaling up the fabrication will be the wafer-scale growth of hBN and 2D superconductors like [niobium diselenide], and how one can do wafer-scale stacking of these films,” added Wang.

Wang believes that this research has shown 2D hBN to be a good insulator candidate for superconducting qubits. He says that the groundwork the MIT team has done will serve as a road map for using other hybrid 2D materials to build superconducting circuits.