Month: July 2023
Mark Zuckerberg: Threads users down by more than a half
The rival to Twitter saw explosive growth but users have since drifted away, Meta boss acknowledges.
The rival to Twitter saw explosive growth but users have since drifted away, Meta boss acknowledges.
Chinese AI arrives by stealth, not with a bang
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Pollen is a professional development platform for tech workers, by tech workers
Meet Pollen, a new French startup that wants to provide a better way to learn new skills. Instead of working with full-time teachers, Pollen invites business executives and top performers in the tech industry so that they can host a class with a small group of people. Behind the scenes, Pollen was co-founded by Julie
Meet Pollen, a new French startup that wants to provide a better way to learn new skills. Instead of working with full-time teachers, Pollen invites business executives and top performers in the tech industry so that they can host a class with a small group of people.
Behind the scenes, Pollen was co-founded by Julie Ranty, the former managing director of Viva Technology, a popular tech conference that takes place every year in Paris, along with Olivier Xu and Vincent Huguet. And Huguet knows a thing or two about marketplaces as he’s the co-founder and co-CEO of Malt, a freelancer marketplace. He’s still very much focused on Malt but he contributes to Pollen in a non-operational role.
“I’m convinced that the best professional training courses today are given by people who aren’t trainers yet. They are working professionals and they are willing to share their secret sauce with you, their experience, their work methodology and highly actionable content – not just inspiring content, but actionable content for the next day,” Pollen CEO Julie Ranty told me.
And the reason why Pollen focuses on the tech industry is because it changes all the time. If you work for a tech company, chances are you are using — or thinking about using — generative AI in one way or another. Or you may be trying to implement a new, sophisticated sales method. Or you want to tweak your pricing and monetization strategy.
Pollen has already attracted 40 people working in the tech industry who are hosting classes on Pollen’s behalf. The typical course is a four-hour course followed by a lunch break so that you can share tips with other people in a laid-back atmosphere. It can also be an eight-hour all-day course with a lunch break.
The company also offers online classes, but most people prefer in-person courses. “With online classes, it isn’t an eight-hour Zoom tunnel, it’s two-hour blocks spread over two weeks. You get four times two hours over two weeks,” Ranty said.
A marketplace for professional development
There are four reasons why some tech workers accept to create courses for Pollen. First, Pollen takes care of all the pesky tasks that come with becoming an instructor.
“A solution like Pollen helps you develop your course and, on top of that, manages the whole admin, sales, marketing, customer relations side of things,” Ranty said. “It also teaches them – because we’ve developed a Pollen methodology with pedagogical experts – it also teaches them the fundamentals of how to share their expertise.”
The second and third reason why you would want to join Pollen’s group of trainers is that it can personally help you on a professional level as you appear as an expert in your field, and you get to meet other instructors and grow your network.
Finally, Pollen pays its trainers. “They’re paid to do this, but it’s definitely not the main reason why they choose to do it,” Ranty said.
Pollen is positioning itself as an upskilling platform for existing companies. It wants to convince HR managers that they should allocate some of their training budget toward Pollen courses.
In the coming months, the startup is going to apply for the Qualiopi certification, which means that it’s a serious professional development company that offers high-quality courses. The startup expects to be able to offer 300 different sessions in 2024 — overall, 3,000 people could attend a Pollen course in 2024.
Ford expects to reach its EV production goal a year later than planned
Ford will take just a bit longer to reach the electric vehicle production goal it set for itself. As The Washington Post reports, Ford CEO Jim Farley now expects the automaker to be able to start producing 600,000 EV units per year sometime in 2024. The company was originally aiming to reach that production level in late 2023 with the help of lithium iron phosphate battery packs, which will help Ford cut manufacturing costs and reduce its dependence on nickel and other materials prone to shortage.In the company’s earnings report, (PDF) Farley explained that the “[t]he near-term pace of EV adoption will be a little slower than expected,” but that he believes it’s going to “benefit early movers like Ford.” He added: “EV customers are brand loyal and we’re winning lots of them with our high-volume, first-generation products.” The automaker’s all-electric division did well in the second quarter of the year, with revenue from the first generation F-150 Lightning and the Mustang Mach-E vehicles increasing by 39 percent. Ford was inundated with pre-orders for the F-150 Lightning after it was announced and had to temporarily stop taking reservations due to the demand. The company has recently slashed the vehicle’s prices citing increased production capacity, though it could also be because it’s looking to entice more customers who are also eyeing models by rivals like Tesla and General Motors. Ford CFO John Lawler said “[t]he transition to EVs is happening, it just may take a little longer” and “it will be a little slower than the industry expected.” The automaker was also aiming to manufacture 2 million EVs a year by 2026, but this delay affects that goal, as well. CNBC said Ford now doesn’t know when it can reach that level of production, but Lawler assured that the company will still invest the same amount of money into its EV endeavors. This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/ford-expects-to-reach-its-ev-production-goal-a-year-later-than-planned-101804539.html?src=rss
Ford will take just a bit longer to reach the electric vehicle production goal it set for itself. As The Washington Post reports, Ford CEO Jim Farley now expects the automaker to be able to start producing 600,000 EV units per year sometime in 2024. The company was originally aiming to reach that production level in late 2023 with the help of lithium iron phosphate battery packs, which will help Ford cut manufacturing costs and reduce its dependence on nickel and other materials prone to shortage.
In the company’s earnings report, (PDF) Farley explained that the “[t]he near-term pace of EV adoption will be a little slower than expected,” but that he believes it’s going to “benefit early movers like Ford.” He added: “EV customers are brand loyal and we’re winning lots of them with our high-volume, first-generation products.” The automaker’s all-electric division did well in the second quarter of the year, with revenue from the first generation F-150 Lightning and the Mustang Mach-E vehicles increasing by 39 percent.
Ford was inundated with pre-orders for the F-150 Lightning after it was announced and had to temporarily stop taking reservations due to the demand. The company has recently slashed the vehicle’s prices citing increased production capacity, though it could also be because it’s looking to entice more customers who are also eyeing models by rivals like Tesla and General Motors.
Ford CFO John Lawler said “[t]he transition to EVs is happening, it just may take a little longer” and “it will be a little slower than the industry expected.” The automaker was also aiming to manufacture 2 million EVs a year by 2026, but this delay affects that goal, as well. CNBC said Ford now doesn’t know when it can reach that level of production, but Lawler assured that the company will still invest the same amount of money into its EV endeavors.
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/ford-expects-to-reach-its-ev-production-goal-a-year-later-than-planned-101804539.html?src=rss
VanMoof: What startups can learn from the rise and fall of an ebike superstar
Since launching in 2009, VanMoof, known for its sleek, high-tech city bikes, developed an almost cult-like following — from the streets of Amsterdam to New York. Today, what was once the world’s most-funded ebike startup is bankrupt, leaving riders angry, loyal followers depressed, and the industry wondering — what’s next? Pretty much everyone and their dog has an opinion on the matter. But we wanted to hear from those closest to the action and perhaps the most affected in the long term: ebike startups. “The VanMoof story deserved a better ending,” says Tanguy Goretti, founder of Belgian ebike company Cowboy,…This story continues at The Next Web
Since launching in 2009, VanMoof, known for its sleek, high-tech city bikes, developed an almost cult-like following — from the streets of Amsterdam to New York. Today, what was once the world’s most-funded ebike startup is bankrupt, leaving riders angry, loyal followers depressed, and the industry wondering — what’s next? Pretty much everyone and their dog has an opinion on the matter. But we wanted to hear from those closest to the action and perhaps the most affected in the long term: ebike startups. “The VanMoof story deserved a better ending,” says Tanguy Goretti, founder of Belgian ebike company Cowboy,…
This story continues at The Next Web
HBO’s ‘Last Call’ is true crime done right
Between questions of ethics and criticisms of lurid dramatizations, the true crime genre has become as much a moral minefield as it is a source of entertainment for many. After all, behind every seemingly juicy murder case are grieving family members and friends who don’t want to see their loved one’s death reduced to a cheap thrill. How can true crime documentaries or podcasts responsibly respect their subjects without exploiting them? Is this kind of ethical storytelling even possible given the genre’s tendency to resurrect past acts of brutality?
SEE ALSO:
The Last Call Killer: Everything you need to know
Enter HBO’s documentary series Last Call: When a Serial Killer Stalked Queer New York, which documents the investigation and aftermath of a ’90s killing spree that targeted gay men in New York City. While I was initially put off by the show’s subtitle, fearing sensationalized trauma in the style of Ryan Murphy’s Dahmer, director Anthony Caronna’s sensitive treatment of difficult subject matter quickly won me over. Instead of focusing its main energy on the titular serial killer, Last Call finds deeper meaning and purpose in exploring how violence against queer people fostered these killings — and crucially, foregrounds the activists who fought hard to bring the truth to light.Last Call tackles a horrifying true crime case with care.
Credit: Courtesy of HBO
Last Call — based on Elon Green’s 2021 true crime book Last Call: A True Story of Love, Lust, and Murder in Queer New York — dives into the connected murders of four gay and bisexual men: Peter Stickney Anderson, Thomas Mulcahy, Anthony Marrero, and Michael Sakara. Their bodies were found in New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania between 1991 and 1993, sparking investigations across all three states.Each of the victims led vastly different lives. For example, Mulcahy was a businessman from Massachusetts with a wife and children, while Marrero was a New York-based sex worker with deep ties to the LGBTQ community there. Yet all four frequented queer spaces in New York, including gay bars like the Townhouse and Five Oaks. Once safe havens for queer people, these bars in particular became a target for the serial killer responsible for these four men’s deaths — a murderer the media would go on to name the Last Call Killer.
SEE ALSO:
‘The Crowded Room’ is based on a disturbing true story
While these deaths stirred up fears within New York’s queer community, the police investigations lacked a sense of urgency. Investigators were less willing to collaborate with the affected community, or even to acknowledge that the victims’ sexualities were central to the case. Activist groups like the NYC Anti-Violence Project (AVP), which seeks to end bias crimes towards LGBTQ people, stepped up to try to spread awareness of and gain information about the killer. Queer-run news networks like Gay USA and Gay City News also spoke out about the murders and criticized those in power who simply were not doing enough. Last Call avoids true crime pitfalls by focusing on activism.
Credit: Courtesy of HBO
In a refreshing and rare step for true crime, the Last Call Killer is not even close to the main focus of Last Call. We certainly get answers about his identity, but Last Call spends more of its energy on organizations like AVP and its activist efforts, as well as the prejudices within the justice system that made tracking down the Last Call Killer such an uphill battle. Here, the crime becomes a vehicle through which Caronna can explore deeper systemic issues, instead of a means for spectacle.Through interviews with AVP organizers like Matt Foreman and Bea Hanson, Last Call paints a picture of the extent of violence LGBTQ people were facing in ’90s New York. The murders of Stickney Anderson, Mulcahy, Marrero, and Sakara did not happen in a vacuum. Chilling accounts of bias crimes and violent “overkill” are proof of a carefully engineered environment of homophobia that encouraged harming queer people.
SEE ALSO:
Untangling true crime: Inside the ethics of Hollywood’s greatest guilty pleasure
That bias extends to the police, the very same people who were meant to be solving these murders. We learn of homophobia and transphobia in the NYPD through harrowing descriptions of police officers entrapping and then violently arresting gay and trans sex workers. Apathy towards the gay and bisexual victims of the Last Call Killer also hindered the investigation, and even persists today. One investigator who worked on the case questions Carrona’s line of inquiry in a talking head: “Why is the emphasis on the gay part?” It would be funny if it weren’t so dreadfully sobering — it’s moments like these that hammer home just how crucial community outreach was in apprehending the Last Call Killer.Last Call works to honor the Last Call Killer’s victims.
Credit: Courtesy of HBO
On top of emphasizing the queer community’s resilience and activism during the Last Call Killer’s murder spree, Last Call also seeks to paint full portraits of Stickney Anderson, Mulcahy, Marrero, and Sakara beyond just “murder victim.”For this, Last Call turns to people who knew and cared about each man, from partners to family members to friends. Their interviews serve as touching tributes, but they can be deeply troubling as well. One of Marrero’s brothers refuses to believe he was gay, saying that he just hung out with gay people but he definitely wasn’t gay himself. However, Marrero’s grand-nephew, a bisexual man, wonders what it would have been like to march at Pride with Marrero, and how he can effectively memorialize him.There’s a deliberate care to each of these interviews with the victims’ loved ones, and to the discussion of queer activism surrounding the murder case. Unlike much press reporting at the time of the murders — which one interviewee labels as “salacious” — Last Call completely de-centers its murderer in favor of amplifying the voices and stories of those who were harmed by his actions. (Each episode is named after one of the victims.)That de-centering comes through throughout Last Call, even in its powerful upcoming finale, which details the killer’s capture and court case. Despite the more killer-focused episode, Hanson finds she can’t even remember his name, choosing, like Last Call, to focus on the victims instead.”It wasn’t about him,” she says. “You want to remember the names of the people who were lost, not the person who did the act.”The finale of Last Call airs Sunday, July 30 at 9 p.m. ET on HBO and on Max. The first three episodes are now streaming on Max.
Between questions of ethics and criticisms of lurid dramatizations, the true crime genre has become as much a moral minefield as it is a source of entertainment for many. After all, behind every seemingly juicy murder case are grieving family members and friends who don’t want to see their loved one’s death reduced to a cheap thrill. How can true crime documentaries or podcasts responsibly respect their subjects without exploiting them? Is this kind of ethical storytelling even possible given the genre’s tendency to resurrect past acts of brutality?
Enter HBO’s documentary series Last Call: When a Serial Killer Stalked Queer New York, which documents the investigation and aftermath of a ’90s killing spree that targeted gay men in New York City. While I was initially put off by the show’s subtitle, fearing sensationalized trauma in the style of Ryan Murphy’s Dahmer, director Anthony Caronna’s sensitive treatment of difficult subject matter quickly won me over. Instead of focusing its main energy on the titular serial killer, Last Call finds deeper meaning and purpose in exploring how violence against queer people fostered these killings — and crucially, foregrounds the activists who fought hard to bring the truth to light.
Last Call tackles a horrifying true crime case with care.
Credit: Courtesy of HBO
Last Call — based on Elon Green’s 2021 true crime book Last Call: A True Story of Love, Lust, and Murder in Queer New York — dives into the connected murders of four gay and bisexual men: Peter Stickney Anderson, Thomas Mulcahy, Anthony Marrero, and Michael Sakara. Their bodies were found in New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania between 1991 and 1993, sparking investigations across all three states.
Each of the victims led vastly different lives. For example, Mulcahy was a businessman from Massachusetts with a wife and children, while Marrero was a New York-based sex worker with deep ties to the LGBTQ community there. Yet all four frequented queer spaces in New York, including gay bars like the Townhouse and Five Oaks. Once safe havens for queer people, these bars in particular became a target for the serial killer responsible for these four men’s deaths — a murderer the media would go on to name the Last Call Killer.
While these deaths stirred up fears within New York’s queer community, the police investigations lacked a sense of urgency. Investigators were less willing to collaborate with the affected community, or even to acknowledge that the victims’ sexualities were central to the case. Activist groups like the NYC Anti-Violence Project (AVP), which seeks to end bias crimes towards LGBTQ people, stepped up to try to spread awareness of and gain information about the killer. Queer-run news networks like Gay USA and Gay City News also spoke out about the murders and criticized those in power who simply were not doing enough.
Last Call avoids true crime pitfalls by focusing on activism.
Credit: Courtesy of HBO
In a refreshing and rare step for true crime, the Last Call Killer is not even close to the main focus of Last Call. We certainly get answers about his identity, but Last Call spends more of its energy on organizations like AVP and its activist efforts, as well as the prejudices within the justice system that made tracking down the Last Call Killer such an uphill battle. Here, the crime becomes a vehicle through which Caronna can explore deeper systemic issues, instead of a means for spectacle.
Through interviews with AVP organizers like Matt Foreman and Bea Hanson, Last Call paints a picture of the extent of violence LGBTQ people were facing in ’90s New York. The murders of Stickney Anderson, Mulcahy, Marrero, and Sakara did not happen in a vacuum. Chilling accounts of bias crimes and violent “overkill” are proof of a carefully engineered environment of homophobia that encouraged harming queer people.
That bias extends to the police, the very same people who were meant to be solving these murders. We learn of homophobia and transphobia in the NYPD through harrowing descriptions of police officers entrapping and then violently arresting gay and trans sex workers. Apathy towards the gay and bisexual victims of the Last Call Killer also hindered the investigation, and even persists today. One investigator who worked on the case questions Carrona’s line of inquiry in a talking head: “Why is the emphasis on the gay part?” It would be funny if it weren’t so dreadfully sobering — it’s moments like these that hammer home just how crucial community outreach was in apprehending the Last Call Killer.
Last Call works to honor the Last Call Killer’s victims.
Credit: Courtesy of HBO
On top of emphasizing the queer community’s resilience and activism during the Last Call Killer’s murder spree, Last Call also seeks to paint full portraits of Stickney Anderson, Mulcahy, Marrero, and Sakara beyond just “murder victim.”
For this, Last Call turns to people who knew and cared about each man, from partners to family members to friends. Their interviews serve as touching tributes, but they can be deeply troubling as well. One of Marrero’s brothers refuses to believe he was gay, saying that he just hung out with gay people but he definitely wasn’t gay himself. However, Marrero’s grand-nephew, a bisexual man, wonders what it would have been like to march at Pride with Marrero, and how he can effectively memorialize him.
There’s a deliberate care to each of these interviews with the victims’ loved ones, and to the discussion of queer activism surrounding the murder case. Unlike much press reporting at the time of the murders — which one interviewee labels as “salacious” — Last Call completely de-centers its murderer in favor of amplifying the voices and stories of those who were harmed by his actions. (Each episode is named after one of the victims.)
That de-centering comes through throughout Last Call, even in its powerful upcoming finale, which details the killer’s capture and court case. Despite the more killer-focused episode, Hanson finds she can’t even remember his name, choosing, like Last Call, to focus on the victims instead.
“It wasn’t about him,” she says. “You want to remember the names of the people who were lost, not the person who did the act.”