As the Iran War continues to unfold, there is understandably a great deal of concern about energy prices (and the prices of things that depend on energy). We might forget that the Middle East is also crucial to the world’s fertilizer supply– though not for long, as farmers (along with everyone else in the food chain, all the way down to all of us eaters) are beginningtofeelthepain.
The world has an almost insatiable demand for nitrogen. Crops need it to grow, but although it makes up 78 percent of our atmosphere, plants can’t just pull it in from the air the way they do with oxygen. Instead, they rely on bacteria in the soil to convert it into nitrate, a form they can use; in the case of agriculture, think of fertilizer spread by humans. Leaving aside organic options like cow manure, most farmers use ammonia produced mainly from natural gas using a technique called the Haber-Bosch process, which was invented in 1909. [See also here.]
Haber-Bosch is expensive and energy-intensive, responsible for up to two percent of the world’s annual greenhouse gas emissions. It’s also spurred a global nitrogen pollution crisis; as much as two-thirds of nitrogen fertilizer applied to crops is never used, and the excess escapes into the soil, air, and water, raising the cancer risk in nearby communities and contributing to climate change.
Researchers have been trying to find an alternative way to get nitrogen to plants for decades — turning to everything from microbes to human urine. But so far, these scientific advancements haven’t translated into much practical change for farmers, who for the most part still rely on ammonia (which, granted, is getting greener, but is increasingly vulnerable to global price shocks).
That could soon change with the growth in popularity of a new technology known as plasma activated water, or PAW. Around the U.S., scientists and startups are experimenting with this high-tech solution, which uses electricity to pull nitrogen from the air, mix it with water, and create fertilizer straight on the farm. The concept, on the surface, seems suspiciously rosy — on-demand nitrogen, in a form plants can use, at just the cost of electricity (and the initial price of the machine used to make it). But early adopters have told Offrange that it genuinely works…
… PAW uses electricity to transform air into plasma — the fourth state of matter (besides gases, solids, and liquids), which typically forms at high temperatures. When the plasma comes into contact with water, it encourages chemical reactions that form nitrates — the type of nitrogen that plants need. Though this process was actually invented in 1903, even before Haber-Bosch, it required so much energy that it never achieved widespread use.
But in recent years, those energy needs have gone down thanks to the development of “cold plasma” technology, which operates at less than 60 degrees Fahrenheit. It’s also used for medical sterilization and food safety, and over the last decade researchers have worked to develop new ways to apply it for agricultural production…
As we count on creativity, we might send healthy birthday greetings to a man who explained one of the central ways in which we depend on the food that we eat, William Cumming Rose; he was born on this date in 1887. A biochemist, he researched amino acids, discovered threonine, and established the importance of the nine essential amino acids in human nutrition (that’s to say, the amino acids that our bodies cannot synthesize and that we must consume in our food). He received the National Medal of Science in 1966.
The gaming industry, fueled by platforms like Twitch and YouTube, has surged into a multi-billion-dollar powerhouse, projected to exceed $207 billion in 2026. These platforms do more than showcase gameplay—they cultivate vibrant, interactive communities where fans engage in real time, from live chats to virtual watch parties. Games like League of Legends, Call of Duty, Counter-Strike and Fortnite have become a cultural phenomenon, drawing in over 2.6 billion gamers globally, a number that continues to climb each year. Mobile gaming, accounting for over 60% of global gaming revenue, plays a significant role in this growth, making gaming accessible to a broader audience than ever before…
But as Danny Robb explains, using tecnology to play games remotely has a long history…
In 1897, the United States House of Representatives held a series of chess matches to find their most skilled players. The five winners were pitted against counterparts in the British House of Commons. But while the Americans sat down to play in Washington, D.C., their opponents sat in London. The players received moves by telegraph, and sent responses back over wires that crossed the Atlantic.
By the mid-nineteenth century, she explains, there was a growing sports culture in Europe and the US. Industrial technologies enabled more people to attend games and follow along from a distance. A growing middle class fostered this sporting culture, which came to include chess.
“Weekly,” Müller-Pohl explains, “the liberal and intellectual elites of the time assembled around chess boards in Paris, Berlin, Warsaw, Vienna, Moscow, Rome, and London.” Interest in the game spread, and chess clubs emerged. As clubs arranged tournaments and standardized chess rules, Müller-Pohl argues that chess “was gradually turned into a sport.”
Correspondence chess grew along with the game, in part thanks to cheap and efficient postal services. When the telegraph emerged on the scene, the application to chess was almost immediate.
“It was telegraphy’s fathers who pulled the strings behind the first schemes for cable chess,” Müller-Pohl explains. In 1844, inventor Samuel Morse arranged chess matches on a new telegraph line between Baltimore and Washington, D.C. “All of the 686 moves necessary for the seven games played were transmitted without mistake or interruption,” Müller-Pohl writes.
Not long after, in 1845, inventor Charles Wheatstone attended a demonstration in London. Chess legend Howard Staunton played against his rival George Walker over the South Western Railway line between Portsmouth and London. Müller-Pohl describes how witnesses found the match “rather tedious,” but it received a lot of press. This was partly the point—the matches demonstrated and advertised the capabilities and accuracy of the invention.
The Staunton match had another interesting aspect. Müller-Pohl points out that “the lines were still used for ordinary traffic during the games, allowing a group of chess players from Southampton to have every move telegraphed to them.” A bit like modern e-sports, spectators could observe the virtual match…
As we note that what’s old is new again, we might recall that it was on this date in 1958 that Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode” was released. It peaked at number two on the Hot R&B Sides chart and number eight on its pre-Billboard Hot 100 chart. Considered “the first rock & roll hit about rock & roll stardom”, it has been covered by many, many other artists and has received many, many honors and accolades, among them being ranked 33rd and 7th, respectively, on Rolling Stone’s 2021 and 2004 lists of 500 Greatest Songs of All Time. It was also included as one of the 27 songs on the Voyager Golden Record (a collection of music, images, and sounds designed to serve as an introduction and record of global humanity’s achievements, innovations and culture, to alien/otherworldly inhabitants).
Apropos the piece above, it was released by Chess Records.
Insofar as (at the risk of sounding tautological) transformative technologies are concerned, Neil Postman is surely right. But then, as Roy Amara pointed out, “we tend to overestimate the effect of a technology in the short run and underestimate the effect in the long run.” David Oks uses a common myth of technological replacement to illustrate– and more specifically, to observe that there’s a lot more to replacing labor than just automating tasks.
He begins by recounting an interview a few months ago of J. D. Vance by Ross Douthat in which (in response to a question from Douthat about the potential downsides of AI, in particular the prospect of its “obsoleting” human workers) Vance responded sanguinely, arguing that ATM machines didn’t eliminate bank tellers. Indeed, Vance suggested, “we have more bank tellers today than we did when the ATM was created, but they’re doing slightly different work…”
There are two interesting things about what Vance said, both relating to the example that he chose about bank tellers and ATMs.
The first thing is what it tells us about who J. D. Vance is. The bank teller story—how ATMs were predicted to increase bank teller unemployment, but in fact did not—isn’t a story you’ll hear from politicians; in fact, for a long time, Barack Obama would claim, incorrectly, that ATMs had decreased the number of bank tellers, in order to suggest that the elevated unemployment rate during his presidency was due to productivity gains from technology. I’ve never heard a politician cite the bank teller story before: but I have seen the bank teller story cited in a lot of blogs. I’ve seen it cited, for example, by Scott Alexander and Matt Yglesias and Freddie deBoer; and I’ve heard it, upstream of the humble bloggers, from such fine economists as Daron Acemoglu and David Autor. The story of how ATMs didn’t automate bank tellers is, indeed, something of a minor parable of the economics profession…
… But the other thing about the bank teller story that Vance cites is that it’s wrong. We do not, contrary to what Vance claims, have “more bank tellers today than we did when the ATM was created”: we in fact have far fewer. The story he tells Douthat might have been true in 2000 or 2005, but it hasn’t been true for years. Bank teller employment has fallen off a cliff. Here is a graph of bank teller employment since 2000:
So what happened to bank tellers? Autor, Bessen, Vance, and the like are right to point out that ATMs did not reduce bank teller employment. But they miss the second half of the story, which is that another technology did. And that technology was the iPhone. The huge decline in bank teller employment that we’ve seen over the last 15-odd years is mainly a story about iPhones and what they made possible.
But why? Why did the ATM, literally called the automated teller machine, not automate the teller, while an entirely orthogonal technology—the iPhone—actually did?
The answer, I think, is complementarity.
In my last piece, on why I don’t think imminent mass job loss from AI is likely, I talked a lot about complementarity. The core point I made was that labor substitution is about comparative advantage, not absolute advantage: the relevant question for labor impacts is not whether AI can do the tasks that humans can do, but rather whether the aggregate output of humans working with AI is inferior to what AI can produce alone. And I suggested that given the vast number of frictions and bottlenecks that exist in any human domain—domains that are, after all, defined around human labor in all its warts and eccentricities, with workflows designed around humans in mind—we should expect to see a serious gap between the incredible power of the technology and its impacts on economic life.
That gap will probably close faster than previous gaps did: AI is not “like” electricity or the steam engine; an AI system is literally a machine that can think and do things itself. But the gap exists, and will exist even as the technology continues to amaze us with what it can now accomplish.
But by talking about why ATMs didn’t displace bank tellers but iPhones did, I want to highlight an important corollary, which is that the true force of a technology is felt not with the substitution of tasks, but the invention of new paradigms. This is the famous lesson of electricity and productivity growth, which I’ll return to in a future piece. When a technology automates some of what a human does within an existing paradigm, even the vast majority of what a human does within it, it’s quite rare for it to actually get rid of the human, because the definition of the paradigm around human-shaped roles creates all sorts of bottlenecks and frictions that demand human involvement. It’s only when we see the construction of entirely new paradigms that the full power of a technology can be realized. The ATM substituted tasks; but the iPhone made them irrelevant…
[Oks unpacks the stories of the ATM’s and iPhone’s impact on banking, then looks ahead, by anaology, to what might be in store with AI. He concludes…]
… I am not a “denier” on the question of technological job loss; Vance’s blithe optimism is not mine. But I’m skeptical that simply slotting AI into human-shaped jobs will have the results people seem to expect. The history of technology, even exceptionally powerful general-purpose technology, tells us that as long as you are trying to fit capital into labor-shaped holes you will find yourself confronted by endless frictions: just as with electricity, the productivity inherent in any technology is unleashed only when you figure out how to organize work around it, rather than slotting it into what already exists. We are still very much in the regime of slotting it in. And as long as we are in that regime, I expect disappointing productivity gains and relatively little real displacement.
The real productivity gains from AI—and the real threat of labor displacement—will come not from the “drop-in remote worker,” but from something like Dwarkesh Patel’s vision of the fully-automated firm. At some point in the life of every technology, old workflows are replaced by new ones, and we discover the paradigms in which the full productive force of a technology can best be expressed. In the past this has simply been a fact of managerial turnover or depreciation cycles. But with AI it will likely be the sheer power of the technology itself, which really is wholly unlike anything that has come before, and unlike electricity or the steam engine will eventually be able to build the structures that harness its powers by itself.
I don’t think we’ve really yet learned what those new structures will look like. But, at the limit, I don’t quite know why humans have to be involved in those: though I suspect that by the time we’re dealing with the fully-automated organizations of the future, our current set of concerns will have been largely outmoded by new and quite foreign ones, as has always been the case with human progress.
But, however optimistic I might be about the human future, I don’t think it’s worth leaning on the history of past technologies for comfort. The ATM parable is a comforting narrative; and in times of uncertainty and fear we search naturally for solace and comfort wherever it may come. But even when it comes to bank tellers, it’s only the first half of the story…
As to whether the wisdom of Amara and Oks is widely-shared, consider this from Crunchbase:
Crunchbase data shows global venture investment totaled $189 billion in February — the largest startup funding month on record — although 83% of capital raised went to just three companies. They include OpenAI, which raised $110 billion, also in the largest round ever raised by a private, venture-backed company.
The record month for venture funding took place against the backdrop of a trillion-dollar stock market drop as AI compute and tooling unsettled leading public software companies. [See also here.]
All told, venture investment was up close to 780% year over year from the $21.5 billion raised by startups in February 2025.
OpenAI was not the only company to raise tens of billions of dollars last month. Its closest rival, Anthropic, raised $30 billion, marking the third-largest venture round on record.
Waymo, Alphabet‘s self-driving division, raised $16 billion. Together, those three rounds totaled $156 billion, representing 83% of the global venture capital raised in February.
A further four companies each raised $1 billion or more last month: Tokyo-based semiconductor manufacturer Rapidus; London-based self-driving platform Wayve; San Francisco-based AI for robotics World Labs; and Sunnyvale, California-based AI semiconductor company Cerebras Systems.
These massive rounds were led by strategic corporate investors, a host of private equity and alternative investors, as well as a few multistage venture investors and a government agency…
As we contemplate change, we might send sanitary, odor-free birthday greetings to Sir Joseph William Bazalgette; he was born on this date in 1819. A civil engineer, he became chief engineer of London’s Metropolitan Board of Works, in which role his major achievement was a response to the “Great Stink of 1858,” in July and August of 1858, during which very hot weather exacerbated the smell of untreated human waste and industrial effluent. Bazalgette oversaw the creation of a sewer network for central London which addressed the problem– and was instrumental in relieving the city from cholera epidemics, in beginning the cleansing of the River Thames, and in creating (a crucial part of) the infrastructure that underlay its extraordinary growth over the next century.
… and to the extent that we care about our democracy, that’s an issue.
In an article based on his recent Sakurada-Kai Foundation Oxbridge Lecture at Keio University, Tokyo, John Dunn argues that our democracies depend on our picking up the pace of learning. The abstract:
There cannot be a coherent democratic theory because democracy is not a determinate topic. Representative democracy is a relatively modern regime form. It now needs rehabilitation because so many instances have performed poorly for so long. Representative democracy is now also an aging regime. As a type of state, it is subject to the territorial contentiousness and contested legitimacy of any state. It claims its legitimacy from iterative popular choice, but the plausibility of that claim is increasingly strained by the drastic disparities in life chances reproduced through the property systems it protects. The inherent difficulty for citizens to judge how to advance their collective interests is aggravated by the recent transformation of the information economy. In the cumulative damage inflicted by climate change it faces a deadlier peril than any previous regime and one which only a citizenry that can enlighten itself in time can reasonably hope to nerve itself to meet…
There follows a fascinating– and provocative– elaboration of this thesis in which Dunn considers the history of democracy and the alternatives with which it has, since its inception, vied. He concludes in a bracing fashion…
… The varieties of autocracy which will be on offer wherever the rest of the world has the opportunity to take them up will be without exception the reverse of enlightened – instrumentally and compulsively bound to the extremes of obscurantism, Darkness as a full-on fideist commitment, deliberate self-blinding as a navigational strategy. Move fast, break lots, and never pause to inspect the wreckage.
Representative democracy has recently proved itself a poor structure for collective enlightenment, but the case for it depends on its at least not precluding that, its being still open to making the attempt, and responding to what it can contrive to learn. The most optimistic vision of democracy in action has always seen it as an opportunity for collective self-education on the content of shared goods and the means to achieve them. If that is scarcely a realist picture of what it has ever been, at least it is an image of the right shape. It is too late to ask who will educate the educators. At this point we must educate ourselves together and heed the lessons of that education or we must and will die – not just each of us one by one, as we were always fated to do, but soon enough all of us and for ever…
As we devote ourselves to democracy, we might spare a thought for Ludwig van Beethoven; he died on this date in 1827. A crucial figure in the transition between the Classical and Romantic eras in Western music, he remains one of the most famous and influential of all composers. His best-known compositions include 9 symphonies, 5 concertos for piano, 32 piano sonatas, and 16 string quartets. He also composed other chamber music, choral works (including the celebrated Missa Solemnis), a single opera (Fidelio), and numerous songs.
Relevantly to the piece above…
Beethoven admired the ideals of the French Revolution, so he dedicated his third symphony to Napoleon Bonaparte… until Napoleon declared himself emperor. Beethoven then sprung into a rage, ripped the front page from his manuscript and scrubbed out Napoleon’s name…
Most people consider the introduction of the Funny Pages in the late nineteenth century as the birthday of the “modern” American comic strip. Alex Beringer is not most people.
A literary historian and professor of English at the University of Montevallo, Beringer dates the history of comics earlier, to roughly the mid-1800s, a period of prolific and uninhibited experimentation. He came to this understanding by piecing together the medium’s fractured archaeological record, diving through myriad online resources and archives. In the middle of the nineteenth century, New York-based artists followed the lead of their French and Swiss colleagues, particularly Rodolphe Töpffer, the “Father of the Comic Strip,” exchanging single-image political cartoons and caricatures for multi-panel sequences that, many believe, for the first time enabled them to play around with characterization, worldbuilding, and—well—storytelling.
Coming decades before the standardization of speech bubbles and panel borders, these early American comics seem to have little in common with their modern, more streamlined counterparts; they featured sudden and purposefully jarring jump cuts reminiscent of the yet-to-be-invented film montage or musical notes instead of text. One comic artist tells a story through shadows behind the curtains of a window; another, with hieroglyphs the reader must decipher with the help of a legend.
“The audience for this first wave of US comic strips was strikingly sophisticated in its reception of this material,” Beringer writes in Lost Literacies: Experiments in the Nineteenth-Century US Comic Strip, which chronicles this oft-forgotten renaissance. Out from the Ohio State University Press, the book is one of hundreds of titles included in JSTOR’s Path to Open program, making scholarly books accessible online to wide audiences (read chapter four here, free of charge).
“The sense of flux—the idea that the visual language could turn on a dime—was often precisely the appeal,” Beringer observes in his chronicle of this oft-forgotten renaissance.
Foretelling the philosopher Martin Heidegger’s assertion that drawing is in itself a “form of knowing,” early comic strip artists and their consumers treated the medium as a philosophical exercise; Beringer quotes the observation by media scholars Hilary Chute and Patrick Jagoda that comics “enable an intense focus on how complexly woven stories unfold across time and space and, particularly, how these involve the reader…to generate meaning through interacting with, or themselves shaping, spatiotemporal form.”
While some early American artists blatantly plagiarized illustrations and formats that originated in France and Switzerland, others used them as a springboard, giving European drawings a decidedly American twist. For example, where Töpffer’s character Monsieur Vieux Bois (“Mr. Oldbuck”) satirized the European bourgeoisie, comics featuring his Yankee doppelganger, Jeremiah Oldpot (artist unknown), a New York tin merchant who leaves his family to prospect gold in California, often hinge on what Beringer defines as the contradiction between his “romantic view of himself as a rugged frontiersman and his attachment to consumer goods.”
Beringer discusses this and other critical facets of this period in comics history…
TMNT ranked number one at the box office on its opening weekend, beating 300 (the top film of the previous two weeks), The Last Mimzy, Shooter, Pride, The Hills Have Eyes 2, and Reign Over Me, grossing $25.45 million over the weekend of March 23–25, 2007. That said, the film grossed (only) $95.8 million million worldwide, including $54 million domestically during its 91-day run in the 3,120 North American theaters… as the Rotten Tomatoes consensus read: “TMNT’s art direction is splendid, but the plot is non-existent and the dialogue lacks the irony and goofy wit of the earlier Ninja Turtles movies.”
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